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Summary: Camila assigns you as James Valdez’s new partner to test loyalty and control.
Chapter 3
By morning, your face was everywhere.
James saw the first one taped to a streetlight two blocks from the warehouse.
A grainy photo. Your name — or the old one.
And a number underneath.
REWARD.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just tore it down.
But by the time he reached the truck, he’d seen three more.
You weren’t just being looked for.
You were being hunted.
Camila didn’t hesitate.
“They’re organized,” she said coolly from behind her desk. “That man was not acting alone.”
Teresa stood nearby, watching you carefully.
Camila’s gaze shifted to James.
“You will take her to the safe house outside the city. No contact. No public movement. Lay low until I know who is behind this.”
James nodded once.
“And if they find us?” you asked.
Camila’s expression didn’t change.
“Then make sure they regret it.”
The safe house was quiet. Too quiet.
Small. Remote. One bedroom.
You stepped inside and scanned it automatically.
“One bed,” you muttered.
James set his bag down without reacting. “We’ve dealt with worse.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Comforting.”
There was no argument about who slept where.
You both knew neither of you would be sleeping much anyway.
The first night was quiet.
You cleaned guns at the small kitchen table while James disassembled a rifle across from you.
“You ever think about leaving?” you asked without looking up.
“Leaving what?”
“All of it.”
He slid a cloth down the barrel of the weapon. “No.”
That was it.
You finished reassembling your pistol and reached into your duffel bag.
James glanced up when you pulled something longer out.
A case.
He frowned slightly. “What’s that?”
You unzipped it calmly.
Your bow.
Custom grip. Reinforced limbs. Compact but powerful.
James stared at it for a second.
“You’ve been carrying that this whole time?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“You planning on going medieval?”
“It’s quiet. Precise. Doesn’t jam.”
He considered that.
“You’re full of surprises.”
“So are you.”
It happened just after midnight.
The first shot shattered the front window.
Glass exploded inward.
You were already moving before the second shot rang out.
“Down!” James shouted.
More bullets tore into the walls.
They’d found you.
James sprinted toward the bedroom for the larger weapons stash. You grabbed your pistol — and in one smooth motion, strapped your bow across your back.
Gunfire continued ripping through the house.
You slid behind the lounge, steadying your breathing.
James took position behind the refrigerator in the kitchen, rifle in hand.
“We move forward together,” he called.
“Copy.”
He leaned out, firing controlled bursts toward the front door.
You popped up briefly, firing twice through the broken window.
A body dropped outside.
James moved first — advancing toward the hallway.
“Move!” he ordered.
You rolled out from behind the lounge and followed.
Another attacker appeared at the side of the house.
The side window shattered.
A shot rang out—
You felt something slam into the side of your head.
Not a full hit.
A scrape.
But enough.
Your vision flashed white.
Your knees buckled.
The world tilted.
You hit the floor hard.
Sound muffled.
Distant.
“Y/N!” James’ voice ripped through the room.
He saw you drop.
For one split second —
He thought it had killed you.
Something in him snapped.
He stepped fully into the open, ignoring cover, and fired with ruthless precision. The shooter at the side window dropped instantly.
James reloaded the larger rifle without hesitation and advanced, firing again toward movement near the porch. Two more fell back.
Silence came in fragments.
Heavy.
Breathing.
Smoke.
He turned to you immediately.
You weren’t moving.
“Y/N,” he said again, but this time it was different.
Lower.
Tight.
He dropped beside you and pulled you into his arms carefully.
There was blood at your temple — but shallow. A graze.
Your chest was rising.
Relief hit him like impact.
“Hey,” he said firmly, brushing your hair back from your face. “Stay with me.”
Your eyes fluttered faintly.
He exhaled once — shaky, controlled.
“You’re not done,” he muttered.
He lifted you easily, one arm under your back, the other under your legs.
Protective.
Careful.
He carried you toward the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
He laid you gently on the bed — the only bed — and grabbed a clean cloth from the bathroom.
“You’re okay,” he said quietly, pressing the cloth against the scrape on your head. “It didn’t go through.”
Your hand twitched.
He leaned closer.
“Y/N.”
Your eyes opened slowly.
Blurry.
But alive.
“You look stressed,” you murmured weakly.
The tension in his jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
You tried to sit up.
He stopped you gently but firmly. “Stay down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You hit the floor.”
“I’ve hit worse.”
His hand remained at the side of your face, steadying you.
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Summary: Camila assigns you as James Valdez’s new partner to test loyalty and control.
Chapter 2
The deal was supposed to be simple.
That’s what James said when you pulled into the abandoned cannery near the docks. Neutral ground. Two buyers. Quick exchange. In and out.
Nothing about tonight felt simple.
“You recognise anyone?” James asked quietly as you stepped out of the truck.
You scanned the perimeter. Three men by the loading door. One leaning against a black sedan. Another pacing.
“No,” you said. “But they’re nervous.”
James noticed it too. The pacing. The way one of them kept adjusting his jacket.
“Stay behind me until I say otherwise,” he murmured.
“I thought you don’t protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
His eyes flicked to yours briefly. “This isn’t about that.”
You didn’t push it.
The buyers approached slowly. Handshakes were exchanged. Product was shown. Money was counted.
Routine.
Until it wasn’t.
One of the men by the sedan stepped forward.
You looked at him — and nothing clicked.
Different haircut. Beard. Thinner. Harder around the eyes.
You didn’t know him.
Then he smiled.
And something in your chest tightened.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said loudly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
James turned slightly, positioning himself between you and him without making it obvious.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” James said calmly.
The man laughed. “Oh no. I’ve got the right one.”
Your pulse picked up — but you still couldn’t place him.
“You disappear without a word,” he said to you. “Thought you could just walk away?”
And then it hit.
Not his face.
His voice.
Your blood ran cold.
James felt the shift instantly.
“You know him?” he asked low.
You swallowed. “I… didn’t. He looks different.”
The man stepped closer.
“This is business,” he snapped suddenly.
And then it happened fast.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled a gun — not at James.
At you.
Time sharpened.
As he raised the weapon, you stepped in — not back.
Your hand slammed against his wrist, forcing the barrel upward just as his finger tightened on the trigger. The shot fired into the air, loud and wild.
You twisted hard, pivoting your body under his arm. The gun slipped loose.
You ripped it from his hand.
In the same motion, you threw it across the concrete. It skidded under a parked truck.
Before he could react—
You punched him.
Hard.
Your fist connected clean with his jaw, snapping his head sideways.
He staggered.
You grabbed his collar and forced him to look at you.
“I’m not the same girl I was,” you said coldly.
James exploded into motion.
He grabbed the man and slammed him against the hood of the sedan with controlled force. The other buyers scrambled backward.
“You okay?” James demanded without looking at you.
“I’m fine.”
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
The man struggled under James’ grip, breath ragged, blood at the corner of his mouth.
“You don’t get to leave!” he shouted at you.
Something inside you hardened further.
“I already did.”
James’ hold tightened.
“You knew him,” he said.
You nodded once.
“From before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t think he’d find me. I didn’t even recognize him at first.”
James glanced down at the man pinned beneath his hand.
“It’s not over if they can find you.”
That landed.
You forced your breathing steady.
“He was small-time. Desperate. I didn’t think he’d—”
“Thinking gets people killed,” James cut in sharply.
The edge in his voice wasn’t anger.
It was fear.
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.
“We have to move,” James said.
He shoved the man away, sending him to the ground.
As you reached the truck, James stopped you.
“You don’t step in like that again.”
“He was about to shoot me.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“And I did.”
For a second, it looked like he might argue.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Too close.
“You don’t get reckless with your life,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Not on my watch.”
You met his gaze steadily.
“It wasn’t reckless.”
“It was personal.”
That was true.
You didn’t deny it.
The sirens grew louder.
James opened the passenger door but didn’t let you get in yet.
“From now on,” he said, “anything from your past — you tell me.”
“You don’t tell people things.”
“I’m telling you.”
The weight of that settled between you.
Trust.
Fast. Forced. Real.
You nodded once.
“Fine.”
He held your gaze a second longer — confirming, measuring.
Then he finally let you get in.
As the truck sped away from the docks, city lights blurred past.
James kept one hand on the wheel.
The other rested briefly — almost unconsciously — on your knee.
Grounding.
Checking.
Still here.
He didn’t remove it immediately.
And you didn’t comment on it.
Behind you, the deal had collapsed.
But something else had solidified.
You weren’t the same girl you were.
And now James knew it too.
If you want Chapter 3:
Camila interrogates you about your past
Teresa defends you privately
The guy was working for someone bigger
Or James opens up about his own past
Tell me the energy 👀🔥
change it to the guy has been looking for you everywhere, did you really think you could hide from me
Yesss — that line raises the stakes perfectly. I’ll adjust his dialogue and the tension so it feels more obsessive and threatening, while keeping everything else flowing naturally.
Chapter Two
“Trust Me Now”
The deal was supposed to be simple.
That’s what James said when you pulled into the abandoned cannery near the docks. Neutral ground. Two buyers. Quick exchange. In and out.
Nothing about tonight felt simple.
“You recognize anyone?” James asked quietly as you stepped out of the truck.
You scanned the perimeter. Three men by the loading door. One leaning against a black sedan. Another pacing.
“No,” you said. “But they’re nervous.”
James noticed it too. The pacing. The way one of them kept adjusting his jacket.
“Stay behind me until I say otherwise,” he murmured.
“I thought you don’t protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
His eyes flicked to yours briefly. “This isn’t about that.”
You didn’t push it.
The buyers approached slowly. Handshakes were exchanged. Product was shown. Money was counted.
Routine.
Until it wasn’t.
One of the men by the sedan stepped forward.
You looked at him — and nothing clicked.
Different haircut. Beard. Thinner. Colder.
You didn’t know him.
Then he smiled.
And something in your chest tightened.
“Did you really think you could hide from me?” he called out.
Your stomach dropped.
The voice.
That’s what did it.
James shifted slightly in front of you. “You’ve got the wrong person.”
The man laughed softly. “No. I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”
Your pulse hammered now.
“You disappear,” he continued, eyes locked on you. “New city. New people. New name. Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”
James’ voice lowered. “You know him?”
You swallowed. “I didn’t at first. He looks different.”
The man stepped closer.
“This is business,” he snapped suddenly.
And then it happened fast.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled a gun — not at James.
At you.
Time sharpened.
As he raised the weapon, you stepped in — not back.
Your hand slammed against his wrist, forcing the barrel upward just as his finger tightened on the trigger. The shot fired into the air, loud and wild.
You twisted hard, pivoting under his arm. The gun slipped loose.
You ripped it from his grip and threw it across the concrete. It skidded under a parked truck.
Before he could recover—
You punched him.
Hard.
Your fist cracked against his jaw, snapping his head sideways. He staggered.
You grabbed his collar and forced him to look at you.
“I’m not the same girl I was,” you said, voice steady and cold.
James moved instantly.
He grabbed the man and slammed him against the hood of the sedan, controlled but brutal. The other buyers backed away fast.
“You okay?” James demanded without looking at you.
“I’m fine.”
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
The man struggled under James’ grip, breathing heavy.
“You can’t hide forever!” he spat at you. “I told you I’d find you!”
Something inside you went still.
“I wasn’t hiding,” you said evenly. “I moved on.”
James’ hold tightened.
“You knew him,” he said.
You nodded once.
“From before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t think he’d actually find me.”
James glanced down at the man beneath him.
“It’s not over if they’ve been looking for you.”
That landed.
You steadied your breathing.
“He was small-time. Obsessive. I didn’t think he had the reach.”
“Thinking gets people killed,” James cut in sharply.
The edge in his voice wasn’t anger.
It was fear.
Sirens began wailing faintly in the distance.
“We have to move,” James said.
He shoved the man away, sending him to the ground.
As you reached the truck, James stopped you.
“You don’t step in like that again.”
“He was about to shoot me.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“And I did.”
For a second, it looked like he might argue.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Too close.
“You don’t get reckless with your life,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Not on my watch.”
You met his gaze steadily.
“It wasn’t reckless.”
“It was personal.”
That was true.
You didn’t deny it.
The sirens grew louder.
James opened the passenger door but didn’t let you get in yet.
“From now on,” he said, “anything from your past — you tell me.”
“You don’t tell people things.”
“I’m telling you.”
The weight of that settled between you.
Trust.
Fast. Real.
You nodded once.
“Fine.”
He held your gaze a second longer — confirming.
Then he let you get in.
As the truck sped away, city lights streaked past.
James kept one hand on the wheel.
The other rested briefly — almost unconsciously — on your knee.
Grounding.
Checking.
Still here.
Behind you, someone had just proven your past wasn’t buried.
And James had just shown you that if anyone came for you—
Summary: Camila assigns you as James Valdez’s new partner to test loyalty and control.
Chapter 1
The first thing you learned about power was this:
It never announces itself.
It just walks into a room and everyone adjusts.
And when Camila Vargas entered the warehouse office that night, the air shifted instantly.
Teresa followed two steps behind her.
Not beside her.
Not yet.
You stood near the far wall, arms folded, watching carefully. You always watched carefully. That’s how you survived long enough for Camila to pull you out of the life you had before — the one you never talked about.
She saved you.
And that meant something.
Camila stopped in the center of the room. “Power,” she said smoothly, removing her gloves, “is not about fear. Fear is temporary. Respect lasts.”
Teresa nodded, absorbing every word like oxygen.
You caught her eye briefly. She gave you the smallest look — the one that meant Are you seeing this?
You were.
Camila turned toward you next.
“Y/N.”
Your spine straightened automatically. “Yes.”
“James needs a new partner.”
The room went still.
Your stomach dropped just slightly — but your face stayed neutral.
James.
You hadn’t worked directly with him before. You’d seen him, of course. Everyone had.
Quiet. Controlled. Loyal.
Dangerous in a way that didn’t require volume.
“He works better alone,” Teresa said carefully.
Camila smiled — not warmly.
“Everyone works better with the right person.”
Her eyes stayed on you.
“You’re disciplined. You don’t panic. And you owe me.”
It wasn’t cruel. It was factual.
“Yes,” you said evenly.
Camila walked closer, heels echoing softly. “James is efficient. But he trusts very few people. You will earn that trust.”
“And if I don’t?” you asked.
Camila’s gaze sharpened.
“Then you won’t be working here long.”
Silence settled.
Teresa shifted slightly, uncomfortable — but she didn’t speak. She was learning. Watching how decisions were made.
Camila placed a hand lightly on Teresa’s shoulder.
“Observe this,” she said to her. “I assign. They adapt.”
And just like that, it was done.
You found James downstairs near the loading dock.
He was leaning against a steel pillar, cleaning his gun with slow precision. He didn’t look up when you approached.
“I hear we’re partners now,” you said.
“I heard,” he replied.
His voice was calm. No excitement. No resistance.
Just assessment.
You stopped a few feet away. “You don’t look thrilled.”
“I don’t work well with surprises.”
“You don’t work well with people.”
That made him glance up.
Dark eyes. Measuring.
“You volunteered?” he asked.
“No.”
He studied you for a second longer. “You panic?”
“No.”
“You hesitate?”
“No.”
“You follow orders?”
“If they make sense.”
A flicker of something crossed his expression — approval? Maybe.
“Good,” he said simply.
That was it.
No speech. No bonding moment.
Just terms.
A truck engine rumbled outside.
James stood smoothly, holstering his weapon. “We leave in five.”
“For what?”
“Test run.”
You didn’t ask more questions. If this was an evaluation, you’d pass it.
As you turned to grab your jacket, his voice stopped you.
“If you’re nervous,” he said without looking at you, “don’t show it.”
You almost smiled.
“I’m not nervous.”
He finally faced you fully.
“Everyone’s nervous the first time.”
“Not my first time.”
There was something in your tone that made him pause.
A history you didn’t explain.
He didn’t push.
Instead, he stepped closer — not threatening, just close enough to lower his voice.
“I don’t protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
“I don’t need protecting.”
A beat.
The faintest edge of tension sparked between you — not romantic.
Competitive.
Challenging.
Good.
Headlights flashed across the warehouse walls.
James moved first. You followed without being told.
Outside, rain threatened the skyline. The city felt restless.
“You ride with me,” he said.
You slid into the passenger seat without hesitation.
As the truck pulled away from the warehouse, you glanced back once.
Upstairs, in the office window, Camila and Teresa were watching.
Teaching.
Testing.
Teresa met your eyes through the glass for half a second.
You gave her the slightest nod.
You’re learning.
So am I.
Inside the truck, silence filled the space.
James drove like he did everything — controlled.
After a few minutes, he spoke.
“Why’d she pull you out?”
You kept your gaze forward. “Because I was useful.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
You turned to him slowly. “Why do you stay?”
That hit.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“I asked first.”
“And I declined.”
For a second, something almost like amusement touched his expression.
Almost.
“You don’t scare easy,” he said.
“No.”
“You should.”
You leaned back slightly in your seat.
“I’ve already lived through worse.”
The truck slowed as you approached a dimly lit industrial lot.
James cut the engine.
The air changed.
Business mode.
He looked at you one last time before stepping out.
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Summary: You move into your new apartment and get more than you bargained for.
You had just moved into your new apartment, the moving trucks had come and gone, leaving a mountain of boxes scattered across your living room. After signing the paperwork and watching them drive off, you stood still, taking in the mess before you. There was a lot to be done—but first, coffee.
Luckily, there was a cozy little café tucked right beneath your apartment block. You stepped inside, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You ordered a latte and leaned against the counter, waiting for your drink.
As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on someone—a guy across the way who instantly captured your attention. He had that effortlessly rugged charm that made your heart skip a beat.
There was something about him, a quiet confidence that made your cheeks flush. And when his eyes met yours, a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It was the kind of look that sent a rush of warmth through you, making your breath hitch just a little.
You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to focus on the barista calling out orders, but your heart pounded as if you'd sprinted a marathon.
-
“Latte for…?” The barista’s voice trailed off as they glanced down at the name on the cup. You stepped forward at the same time as the mystery guy, both reaching for the same cup.
“Oh, sorry,” you stammered, pulling your hand back, warmth spreading across your face.
“No worries,” he replied smoothly, his voice deep and relaxed. “I think this one’s yours.” He handed you the cup, and as your fingers brushed against his, a spark shot through you.
“Thanks,” you managed, offering a nervous smile.
“Moving in upstairs?” he asked, nodding toward the building.
You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by his presence. “How’d you know I just moved in?”
“Good instincts,” he said, flashing a playful smirk. “Or maybe I saw the trucks earlier. Either way, welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Thanks,” you said, still trying to regain some composure.
“I’m Rafe,” he added, extending a hand.
You hesitated for just a second before shaking it, his grip warm and firm, sending an unexpected jolt through you. “Nice to meet you, Rafe. I’m Y/N.”
He leaned casually against the counter, as if he had all the time in the world. “So, need a hand with those heavy boxes? I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”
Your first instinct was to decline politely—after all, you’d just met the guy—but something about the way he looked at you made it hard to say no.
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you…” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a grin.
“No trouble at all,” he said, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “I’ve got nothing better to do, and besides, I’m all for doing good deeds. What do you say?”
After a brief pause, you nodded before you could second-guess yourself. “Alright. If you’re sure, I wouldn’t mind the help.”
“Perfect,” he said, his grin widening. “Lead the way, beautiful.”
You tried to focus as you led him to the chaos of boxes. Rafe didn’t hesitate, picking up one after another with effortless ease. Each time he moved, the muscles in his arms flexed, his t-shirt stretching taut against his strong physique. You couldn’t help but sneak glances, completely captivated by the smooth, powerful movements.
“Enjoying the view?” he teased, his voice low as he caught you watching.
Your face flushed a deep red. “What? No, I was just—uh—making sure you didn’t drop anything,” you stammered.
“Right,” he said, smirking as he set down another box. “But hey, I don’t mind being admired once in a while.”
You chuckled nervously, trying to mask the growing tension. You led him into your bedroom, where boxes of clothes awaited. Rafe immediately began unpacking, his movements fluid and deliberate. You couldn’t help but notice how his muscles stretched with every task. Every now and then, he would catch your eye, that mischievous grin never far from his lips.
Then, Rafe opened a box labeled lingerie. His gaze lingered on the delicate fabrics as he pulled out a few items, holding them up to examine them closely.
“Hmm, these are nice,” he murmured, sniffing one of the pieces before almost absentmindedly pressing it to his face.
The air between you two grew thicker, charged with an undeniable tension. Rafe’s eyes met yours, and his mischievous smile returned. “Feel like giving me a private show?” he asked, his voice teasing yet full of intent. “I’d love to get a better sense of your style if I got to see these on you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. It was bold, and though a part of you hesitated, another part of you felt the stirrings of excitement. You bit your lip, trying to steady your racing pulse. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
With a hesitant glance at him, you grabbed the box and retreated to the ensuite. Your body tingled with anticipation as you closed the door behind you.
When you emerged, clad in a red lace corset that hugged your curves perfectly, Rafe’s gaze locked onto you with intensity. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you—every inch of you. There was no mistaking the hunger in his look, but it was tempered with a palpable respect.
“Well, looks like I’m getting more than I bargained for,” Rafe said, his voice low and full of appreciation. “Helping you unpack and getting a private show all at once. Lucky me.”
You stepped closer, closing the space between you, the heat between you two growing with every breath you shared. His eyes were fixed on you, but there was a trace of uncertainty, as if he was waiting for you to make the next move. You reached out, your fingers lightly grazing his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tense at your touch.
“You’re not getting away without a reward for all this help,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You traced the outline of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your fingertips.
Rafe’s hand found your waist, pulling you in closer as his thumb brushed along the exposed skin above your corset. “I’m more than happy to work for it,” he said, his voice dropping into a husky murmur.
Without another word, he leaned in. His lips brushed yours softly at first, teasing, as though he was savoring the moment. The kiss quickly deepened, the connection between you undeniable. His lips were insistent, warm, and he kissed you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands slid to your back, fingers grazing the skin above your corset, making you gasp as heat shot through you.
You kissed him back with equal intensity, your body pressing against his, every nerve in your body alight. His hands slid around your waist and up your back, pulling you even closer, his muscles flexing under your touch. You could feel the weight of his body, the strength in his grip, and the need in the way he kissed you.
Rafe’s lips trailed along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on unpacking with you looking like that,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his hands roamed down your back.
You let out a soft laugh, the air thick with desire. “You don’t have to focus on anything else,” you whispered back, your voice playful yet full of intent. “Just focus on me.” 😜
Summary: Rafe is music is always to loud, you go over and tell him to turn it down.
You had just settled into bed, the soothing quiet of the night finally wrapping around you when the thudding bass from next door started vibrating the walls again. It was already well past midnight, and your patience had run dry. You'd had enough of Rafe’s late-night music sessions. It wasn’t the first time, but tonight was the tipping point.
With a deep sigh, you grabbed your slippers and marched out into the hallway. You’d tried ignoring it before, but tonight the music was so loud it felt like it was practically in your room. You knocked on Rafe’s door, knocking three times before you heard any movement inside.
The door swung open with a creak, revealing Rafe standing there, wearing nothing but a towel, the dampness from his hair dripping onto his bare shoulders. His chest was bare, and despite the late hour, he looked like he had all the time in the world.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice groggy, but the music still blaring in the background as if nothing had changed.
You tried to keep your frustration in check, forcing yourself to stay calm. “Could you please turn the music down? Or off? It’s the middle of the night.”
Rafe let out a low chuckle, clearly amused, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “You want me to turn it off? Well, here’s the deal. If I turn it down, you’re gonna have to give me something in return.”
You blinked, taken aback by his words. “What do you mean, give you something?”
Rafe’s smirk grew wider as he leaned closer, clearly enjoying this interaction “If I have to turn the music down, you have to give me a blowjob”. His eyes flicked down briefly, then back to your face, clearly testing your reaction. You felt your stomach tighten, not sure if he was serious or just messing with you. “What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your mind was racing.
“Well,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, almost teasing tone, “if you’re really going to be this bold and come knock on my door at midnight, maybe I’ll need a little compensation
How about you make it worth my while?”
You looked at him, your cheeks flaming. "Fine, but this is the only time." Rafe smirked and stepped aside to allow you enter. He sat casually on the bed and waited. You knelt in front of him, unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down; his cock flipped up, and you heard Rafe mutter "anytime this year," prompting you to hurry up. You took his length into your mouth, sucking and slurping on it, he moaned in delight, you could feel pre cum filling your mouth, you looked up at him, and he drove your head lower down into him, you gauged, and he laughed, forcing you down again. You couldn't pretend you didn't hate this; you just wanted more. You raised your head, pumped him with your hand.
He saw it in your eyes. He lifted you up and threw you on the bed, he pulled your pants off and pushed your panties to the side, he teased you sliding his cock up and down, getting you nice and wet before he pushed all the way, you both moaned together, he started pounding into you faster and harder, you could hardly breathe, it felt so good, "fuck you feel so good, love this pussy" he said, grabbing a hold of your tits under your shirt, your legs were on his shoulders, cum was dripping out of you and He pulled out and turned you on your stomach, then pushed in again. He pushed in again, this time only skin slapping and loud moans could be heard from both sides. He repeatedly slapped your ass, making you wetter with each push. He came inside you several times, and you found it difficult to get up, so you slept in his room instead.
The third trimester had come faster than you anticipated, and with it came a series of emotions, both overwhelming and beautiful. You were now heavily pregnant, your body changing in ways that made you feel like you were barely holding onto yourself, but all the while, Rafe was there, supporting you through every step. The two of you had recently moved into a new house, a small but cozy place where you could begin your life together as a family. It was everything you’d dreamed of—well, almost everything.
-
There was still the issue of Rafe’s father, who hadn’t made it easy on you. From the moment you found out you were pregnant, he’d been openly critical of your decision to start a family so young.
“I don’t know why you’d want to keep the baby. You’re barely out of high school,” his voice echoed in your mind as you sat on the couch in your new home, wrapping your arms around your belly. “And you think you’re ready to raise a child? Wait until you see what comes out of her, Rafe. She won’t even look the same, and it’s not like she’ll go back to being skinny after all that. You really want to deal with that?”
You could still feel the sting of his words, even now. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something hurtful about your pregnancy, but it always hit hard. Rafe had defended you every time, but it never seemed to be enough to quiet the doubts you had. His dad’s comments made you second-guess everything, even your own self-worth, even when you knew deep down it wasn’t true.
Rafe had been there, as always, but that didn’t stop the growing anxiety within you. Every time his father would make a comment, it would take everything inside you not to cry or snap back. But today, something inside you broke. You had been unpacking boxes when you overheard another comment from Rafe’s dad, and it sent you spiraling. You knew Rafe wasn’t home, so you found yourself collapsing on the couch in tears, holding your belly as your emotions threatened to take over.
Just as the pain of the words sank deeper, the door to the living room opened, and Rafe stepped in, looking concerned. His eyes softened as soon as he saw your face, tears streaking down your cheeks, your hands clutching your stomach in distress.
“Baby?” he whispered, kneeling down in front of you. “What happened?”
Through shaky breaths, you tried to explain. “I just... I just can’t take it anymore. He keeps saying I’m too young, and it’s like he doesn’t believe I can do this. He’s always saying that things are going to change after labor, that you won’t even look at me the same way... I feel like I’m not good enough for this baby.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched with anger, but his face softened as he gently cupped your face in his hands. “Listen to me, okay? You are everything I could ever need. You’re the mother of my child, and nothing—nothing—will change that. Not the way you look, not what happens after labor. You could go through the toughest thing in the world, and I would still love you with everything I have. Don’t let him get in your head.”
You looked into Rafe’s eyes, your heart aching at his words, but the anxiety and emotional turmoil didn’t subside. You couldn’t stop crying. You wanted to be strong, but everything just felt so heavy. The emotional strain was overwhelming, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get a grip on yourself.
Rafe’s protective instincts kicked in. His voice was steady but urgent as he pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing your back soothingly. “It’s okay, baby. Take a few deep breaths. We’re okay. I’m here. The baby’s okay.”
But as you tried to steady your breathing, it felt impossible. You couldn’t calm down. The tears kept coming, and your chest tightened painfully. The stress had taken its toll, and you could feel it radiating through your body. Your heartbeat was erratic, and your baby seemed to be reacting too. The panic only deepened.
“I can’t breathe,” you gasped, clutching your chest, the pain intensifying. You were hyperventilating, tears streaming down your face. “Rafe, it hurts. I don’t know what to do.”
Rafe’s eyes widened in fear as he frantically grabbed his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. It’s going to be okay, just stay with me.”
Within minutes, the paramedics arrived and rushed into the house. They assessed the situation quickly, asking questions and checking on both you and the baby. Rafe was by your side the whole time, holding your hand tightly, his face pale with worry.
Once you were in the ambulance, the pain started to subside, but your body still felt weak and shaky. The journey to the hospital felt long and suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep fear of what might be happening to you and the baby.
At the hospital, the doctors quickly ran tests, checking the baby’s heartbeat and your vitals. They explained that what you were experiencing was likely a panic attack, brought on by stress and the emotional pressure you had been under. It wasn’t something to be alarmed about, but they strongly advised you to stay calm in the coming weeks to prevent any further stress on the baby.
“You need to take care of yourself, both physically and emotionally,” the doctor said gently. “The next few weeks are crucial for both you and the baby. Stress can affect your health and the baby’s development. You need to avoid any situations that could increase that anxiety.”
Rafe was at your side, holding your hand tightly as the doctor finished speaking. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll make sure she’s calm. I’ll keep her safe.”
You felt the sincerity in his voice, and although you still felt a little shaken, hearing him promise to be there for you made everything feel a bit more manageable.
As you were discharged and brought back to your new home, Rafe stayed close, making sure to comfort you and help you get settled back on the couch. He insisted that you rest, assuring you that everything would be okay. You couldn’t help but smile faintly at his care, feeling more grateful than ever that he was by your side.
“Don’t worry about anything else, baby,” Rafe said softly as he kissed the top of your head. “We’re in this together. I won’t let anything happen to you or our little one.”
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The evening was perfect for a surprise, and tonight, you had the best one planned. After months of trying, it had finally happened. You were pregnant. The news was both exciting and nerve-wracking, but you couldn’t wait to share it with Rafe, to see his reaction.
You had kept it a secret from him, not out of doubt, but because you wanted to surprise him in the most special way. As you carefully wrapped the pregnancy test in a small gift box, your heart raced in anticipation. This was the moment. This was everything you had been waiting for.
-
You found him outside, sitting on the porch of his family’s house, his usual relaxed posture, one leg propped up on the railing as he watched the sunset. When he saw you approach, his smile widened.
"Hey, you," he called, his voice deep and full of affection. "What’s this?"
You handed him the small, wrapped box, your hands shaking just a little, despite your excitement. "Open it."
Rafe raised an eyebrow, curious but clearly thrilled. He pulled the ribbon, and the paper fell away. When he opened the box and saw the pregnancy test inside, his eyes widened in surprise, and he froze for a moment, the joy on his face so clear that it nearly took your breath away.
"Wait," he started, his voice hushed as he looked at you. "Are you serious? Is this... real?"
You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment hit both of you at once. "It’s real. I’m pregnant."
The moment you said those words, Rafe stood up quickly, his arms immediately pulling you into an embrace so tight you could feel the excitement and happiness radiating from him. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice full of emotion. "I can’t believe this. I’m gonna be a dad."
You could feel his heart racing as he held you close. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his grin wide. "I love you," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I love you so much. We’re gonna be a family."
Tears welled up in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear. They were from the overwhelming joy of knowing that this was exactly what you both wanted. You weren’t alone in this—you had each other.
Rafe’s excitement only grew as he started rambling about everything he couldn’t wait to do. "I can’t wait to build a nursery," he said, his voice bubbling with excitement. "We’ll make it perfect for our little one. And when it’s a boy, I’ll teach him everything about bikes. If it’s a girl, I’ll spoil her rotten."
You laughed softly at his enthusiasm, but his eyes never left yours. "We’re gonna be amazing parents," he continued. "I’ll be there for every moment. You need special cravings at 3 AM? I’m on it. Foot rubs, back rubs, whatever you need. I promise, I won’t get frustrated when you want something ridiculous in the middle of the night."
His words were so genuine, so full of love that you couldn’t help but smile. You could see the future unfolding in his eyes. And it was beautiful.
"I can't wait to tell my sisters," he said suddenly, his excitement growing even more. "They’re going to be so excited. Wheezie and Sarah—" He paused, a thought crossing his mind. "Are you feeling okay, though? You’re not feeling sick, are you?" His tone softened, his protective instincts kicking in.
You nodded, reassured by his concern. "I’m okay," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just a little nervous, but mostly excited."
Rafe’s hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your skin as he leaned in, kissing you gently. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft, filled with adoration. "I’m so happy," he whispered, holding you close again. "We’re going to make this work. You and me. Together."
You held onto him, your heart racing as you sank into the warmth of his embrace. There was no doubt in your mind anymore that this was the right path. Rafe was going to be an incredible father, and you were both going to navigate this journey side by side.
Rafe’s arms tightened around you, and you could feel the smile on his face as he whispered again, "I’m so glad we’re doing this together. I can’t wait to experience every single moment with you."
And as the night stretched on, you knew that everything would be okay. With Rafe by your side, you had everything you needed to face this new chapter in your life.
something with rude customers degrading reader who is waitress, rafe overhears and steps in, they aren't friends, but she is sarahs best friend. lets pretend sarah and rafe get on ahahah
JUST ANOTHER DAY
Word Count: 0.8K
Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe
Warnings: Sexual harassment
Summary: Rude customers degrading you
You had been working at the restaurant for what felt like hours, serving drinks and food to a rowdy crowd, when the group of teenage boys arrived. They weren't the worst customers, but tonight they were making you feel uncomfortable with every word they said.
You placed their drinks on the table, trying to ignore the way they stared at you as you moved around. One of them, a guy in a hoodie and cap, leaned back in his chair, eyeing you up and down with an obnoxious grin. "Hey, babe, how about you join us for a drink later, huh?" he asked, his voice oozing with smugness. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you tried to focus on the task at hand.
-
Before you could answer, another one of them, the guy in a leather jacket, reached across the table, brushing his hand against your arm as you placed their drinks down. "We could have a little fun, you know. You’d be a lot more fun without all that serving nonsense," he said, his smirk growing wider.
You tried to pull away, discomfort rising in your chest. “I really just need to get back to work, guys,” you said, forcing a smile. But the comments kept coming, the air thick with their uninvited attention.
One of them, a kid with messy hair, reached up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to the table. “C’mon, babe, sit with us,” he said, tugging lightly. “You’re cute. Why don’t you take a break with us?”
You stepped back, clearly uncomfortable, but the guy in the leather jacket wasn’t backing off. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, his voice dripping with entitlement. “I’m sure you could use a little fun, huh? Come on, let’s make this night interesting.”
The pressure of their touch and the uncomfortable proximity made your heart race. You opened your mouth to say something, but then you heard a voice from across the room—calm, yet firm.
“Hey, let her go.”
You looked up to see Rafe Cameron standing at the edge of the table, his expression hard and his stance purposeful. He wasn’t looking at you—he was looking directly at the group of teenage boys who were still gripping at you.
“Let her stand up,” Rafe added, his voice steady, but there was an edge to it. He didn’t wait for them to respond, instead stepping forward as the group reluctantly let go of you.
You took a step back, instinctively moving behind Rafe. His presence was enough to break the tension. The boys exchanged uncertain glances, clearly thrown off by Rafe’s appearance, but one of them, the one in the hoodie, scoffed.
“Whatever, man. We were just having a little fun,” he muttered, his words laced with annoyance but tinged with a trace of fear at Rafe’s authoritative stance.
Rafe didn’t flinch. He locked eyes with the guy who had touched you earlier. “Apologize to her,” he demanded, his gaze sharp.
The boys hesitated for a moment, exchanging uncomfortable looks. Finally, the guy in the leather jacket let out an exaggerated sigh, looking at you with a forced smile. “Sorry, alright? Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, but the way he said it made it clear he didn’t mean a word of it.
As if on cue, the guy in the hoodie added, “Yeah, we’ll see you later, babe.”
Rafe’s expression darkened at the implication of their words. He stepped closer, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t say anything. He simply stared them down with an intensity that made the boys falter.
After a few moments of silence, they gathered their things and reluctantly stood up, slowly making their way toward the door. As they left, the guy in the leather jacket gave one last look back, but Rafe didn’t move an inch. His stare was enough to make them walk out the door without another word.
When they were gone, Rafe turned to you, his expression softening slightly, though his eyes still held the same protective edge. He made sure you were alright before turning back to the rest of the restaurant, as though nothing had happened.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, glancing at you from over his shoulder. You nodded, still shaken but grateful for his intervention.
“Yeah. Thanks, Rafe. You didn’t have to do that,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering tension.
Rafe gave you a quick glance, his lips curving into a slight smile. “I don’t like seeing people get treated like that,” he said simply. “Next time, just let me know if they get out of line again.”
You smiled back, feeling a little more at ease now that Rafe was around. You had always known him as Sarah’s older brother, but there was something about his calm, protective demeanor that made you feel safe. And right now, that’s exactly what you needed.
Rafe nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned back to his seat. The rest of the night passed without incident, but you couldn’t help but think back to how easily Rafe had stepped in for you. It was hard not to feel grateful.
