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Bunny (P15)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s 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: only took me half a year to post x

warnings: SMUT!!!, angst, alcohol, mentions of drugs, heavy violence, mentions of past abuse (bruises ect), soft!rafe and Soft!bunny (they're so domestic)

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The sunlight was soft when it filtered through the curtains of Rafe’s room, casting pale light over the walls and bed. Y/N stirred, her lashes fluttering open as her eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar light. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The sheets beneath her were expensive and smooth, not like the ones at home, or now what used to be home. Then her gaze drifted, and she saw him.

Rafe

Lying on his side, one arm slung carelessly over his torso, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His face, usually set in a smirk or a tense scowl, was soft in sleep, he looked peaceful.

Vulnerable even.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

She stayed still just watching him, too afraid to move in fear of waking him. There was something painfully human about the way his lips were parted slightly in slumber. She remembered the way she’d slipped into his bed hours ago; quiet, hesitant and desperate for comfort. How she’d whispered “I love you too” to his sleeping back with her heart thudding so loud in her ears she was sure it would wake him up.

But he hadn’t stirred.

Now in the light of day, the weight of everything settled heavy on her chest. Her body ached from the bruises, from exhaustion but there was another ache too... a quieter one.

She shouldn’t be here.

He’d broken his promise. He'd told the one person she'd asked him not to her deepest most sacred secret and yet he came when she called.

Held her.

Helped her.

And even now dead asleep by her side he was giving her the only peace she’d known in days. She needed to breathe. To think. To be away from him for just a little while but even the idea of leaving the warmth of this bed sent a cold pang through her chest. Carefully, Y/N slipped back from him and rolled onto her side. The mattress dipped slightly as she moved but Rafe didn’t wake. She paused, watching him once more, her eyes lingering on the way the sunlight kissed his cheekbone, then she pushed the covers back and stood. Her bare feet hit the hardwood floor with a soft tap. She moved gently, trying not to make a sound as she crossed the room. Her hand brushed the doorframe on her way out. The hall was quiet the echoes of her footsteps felt loud in the silence, she padded down the stairs slowly, one hand trailing the banister.

In the kitchen, the early light spilled across the counters. She moved toward the sink, resting her hands on either side of it, gripping the edge like it might keep her steady. She didn’t cry- she’d done enough of that. But her chest rose and fell with a sharpness that lingered because here she was, in Rafe Cameron’s kitchen, in one of his T-shirts, with his scent still clinging to her skin and his care hanging in the air like smoke she couldn’t get rid of.

She didn’t know what to do.

So she did the one thing she did know how to do... provide.

Her hands moved on instinct, like her body remembered before her mind caught up. She opened the cabinets trying to figure out where things are, she found a boxed pancake mix shoved near the back of the top shelf and stood on her tip-toes to grab it. Then the fridge creaked open, humming low as she grabbed eggs, milk, and a pack of bacon. It was strange, how easily she fell into the rhythm of it. She cracked eggs into a glass bowl, the sound splitting the otherwise silent house. Her fingers whisked the yolks into a golden puddles and the sizzle of bacon followed not long after, curling in the pan as the smell filled the air.

She didn’t know why she was doing it.

Maybe it was habit?

Maybe it was all these years of survival. She flipped a pancake onto the griddle, her movements automatic now, and for a moment her mind drifted, pulling her back. Y/N smiled faintly, a tired little tug at the corner of her mouth as she stood over the stove, flipping another pancake. The bacon crackled beside her and the smell made her chest ache in a bittersweet way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, what’s that smell?”

A groggy voice called from the hallway of the home, the sound of feet padding against the floorboards following swiftly after. “Bacon,” she called back without looking up, standing on her tiptoes to reach the back burner.

“Don’t touch it!”

JJ, barefoot and messy-haired, shuffled into the kitchen like a zombie. He was still in the oversized T-shirt he wore to bed, the neckline too loose meaning on elf his shoulders was on the edge of slipping out, he rubbed one eye with the back of his hand. “Don’t touch what?” he asked, already grabbing a slice of bacon straight from the paper towel it was placed on.

“JJ!” she shrieked, swatting at him with the spatula. “You’re gonna burn your mouth are you crazy!”

“Worth it,” he mumbled between chews, grinning widely. She rolled her eyes a she shoves the last few rashers of bacon on to the pan looking over her shoulder to him, “Go do the pancakes if you wanna eat so bad.”

“Yes chef.”

He saluted lazily as he spoke. Of course, giving JJ pancake duty had been a mistake. The first one came out raw in the middle, gooey and sticky as he slapped it enthusiastically onto the plate. The second one, burnt to a crisp so badly it resembled charcoal.

The third?

Somehow both...?

By the time she turned around, the kitchen smelled like smoke, and he was fanning the pan with a paper plate.

“Seriously Jay?” she deadpanned trying to suppress a giggle as she snatched the spatula from his hand.

“Eh- I’m more of a bacon guy anyway”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe blinked against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, his brows furrowed in confusion as the scent of bacon reached him. It threaded through the halls, faint but enough to coax him from the comfort of his sheets. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair and for a second his mind wandered to a dream he'd had- Y/N showing up at his door in the middle of the night, slipping into bed behind him, her arm wrapped around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. He raised his hand rubbing his eyes and blinking to focus his vision, then he looked over at the other side of the bed.

The sheets were slightly rumpled.

He got up.

The wood floor was cool under his bare feet as he walked toward the stairs. He didn’t rush but he didn’t even realise he was holding his breath until he reached the landing and heard the soft clatter of a pan being set in the sink.

And then he saw her.

Her back was facing towards him and she was standing at the stove in one of his T-shirts. She was plating breakfast like it was something she’d done a hundred times before; stack of golden pancakes was already layered onto two plates alongside scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. She moved carefully like she was still trying not to wake the house.

For a moment Rafe just stood there.

There was something about her face- calm and focused, her mouth pressed into a neutral line even though he knew her whole world had crumbled just hours ago. The night before was still etched into the bruises on her arms. He watched the curve of her cheek as she reached for a spatula, the small crease between her brows as she concentrated on stacking the pancakes just right. Her movements were so thoughtful. She looked like a woman trying to hold herself together with butter and the smell of bacon.

She turned, pan in one hand, and as she moved to the sink she froze mid-step eyes landing on him standing there, watching her. Her eyes widened, but only for a second. Then she looked down, fumbling slightly as she set the pan in the sink, her voice coming quiet and a little uneven, “...Oh. I, uh—” she cleared her throat and her eyes flicked to his for the briefest second before darting away again,

“I made you breakfast.”

Rafe just stood there, throat tight for another second before stepping further into the kitchen, barefoot on the tile, the morning light brushing across his shoulders. He moved slowly, like if he made a wrong move she might bolt, disappear all over again. His voice was soft when he spoke, a quiet rasp still dusted with sleep.

“Shouldn’t I be the one making you breakfast?”

She didn’t turn right away. Just stood there at the sink, fingers pressing into the edge of the counter like she needed something to ground her.

“I mean-” he added gently, “cause you're my guest and all...”

She exhaled a shaky little breath, then turned to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to his long enough for him to see the way her walls were trying to stay up. “Well,” she said, voice light but brittle,

“I didn’t know how else to thank you.”

Rafe’s brow softened as the words slipped past her lips,

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

She looked down at the plates then, the golden pancakes stacked perfectly, eggs fluffed just right, bacon crisped at the edges. It wasn’t as fancy as she first thought it was when she was making it, so undeniably a sense of doubt started to creep into the corner of her mind- did he think this was dumb? Did she make a mistake cooking all this in the first pla-

He reached out and took the plate she’d made for him.

“Thanks,” he said simply, “It looks great.”

The two of them sat at the kitchen island, forks clinking gently against ceramic plates. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable but at the same time it felt like they were both walking barefoot across something fragile. Y/N cut into her pancake slowly, eyes flicking down then across at Rafe for a moment before lowering again. Rafe took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. He glanced at her just once, then leaned back slightly in his chair.

“This is good”

He hummed mouth half-full. She didn’t lift her head, just gave a small nod, nudging a piece of bacon into the yolk of her egg before mumbling,

“You’ve got good produce.”

That made him let out a short laugh- dry and a little surprised. His fork scraped against the plate as he looked at her.

“Right- It’s the produce.”

“Hey, I’m being serious.”

She looked up then almost frowning. His grin deepened just slightly as he leaned his elbow on the counter, watching her with quiet amusement.

“Sure thing”

He replied, still warm and teasing. She didn’t smile, not really, but there was a subtle softening at the edge of her mouth. Just a flicker, but he noticed. The way she kept her movements controlled, like she was trying to convince herself she was okay or at least that she could pass for it. He saw through it but he didn’t push Instead, he played along and let her have this one bit of normal. Because if sitting here eating pancakes and talking about produce helped her feel even a little bit safe, then he’d keep pretending. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodded slowly as she ate. Then she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to her plate.

“I used to make breakfast for JJ,” she said after a pause, thumb brushing a syrup trail from the side of her plate. “Back when we were kids...”

Rafe stayed quiet, listening to her speak.

“He would always sleeping in late… but I’d still get up early, I don’t even know why. Habit, I guess.” She shrugged a little, then chuckled. “Used to put him on pancake duty sometimes just to make him help. But he’d burn every single one, every time. Like charcoal... and the fat ass would still eat them.”

Rafe smiled, soft and genuine.

“He used to steal all the bacon before I even finished cooking. I’d turn around and half the plate would be gone, and he’d be pretending to look innocent with bacon grease on his face.”

She went quiet for a second, staring down at the food on her plate. The memory had started sweet but the weight of the present hung heavy in the space between now and then. JJ wasn't stealing bacon anymore… he could barely look at her. Her throat tightened, and she looked away like she was suddenly embarrassed for sharing.

For letting him in.

His fork scraped softly across the plate as he reached for a piece of bacon and leaned back slightly on the stool, watching her without making it obvious. Rafe swirled a piece of egg around the plate, not really eating, more just pushing it around. His voice cut through the gentle clinking of cutlery, soft and unexpected.

“My mom used to make breakfast like this.”

She looked up, blinking. He wasn’t looking at her just sort of staring past her shoulder, through the window behind her into the gardens of the house. Then he shifted slightly looking away, fingers brushing the rim of his coffee mug.

“I used to eat breakfast with her in the mornings,” he murmured, “before school back when… she was still around.”

A quiet smile played at the edge of his mouth and Y/N’s gaze flicked to him, listening.

“She made these ‘healthy’ pancakes,” he continued, a small smile barely touching the edge of his mouth as he raised one hand making a little quotation mark. “She’d mash up whatever fruit was going soft. I never really liked fruit but I used to steal Sarah’s off her plate when she was little. Not even quiet about it and she’d be screaming that I took the best one even though they were all the same.”

That made Y/N huff gently through her nose in amusement.

“I used to lie and say it wasn’t me.” Rafe finally looked over at her, “My mom always knew it was me, every time” he said. “But she never got mad- she’d just… cut another pancake and slide it onto Sarah’s plate like it was nothing.”

His voice had gone distant, as if he could still see it. Like it lived in a corner of his mind he didn’t open very often. His eyes drew away from her as he glanced back down at his plate.

“I think she liked that we were all at the table. Together.”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. He took a bite, chewing slowly and the girl opposite him mirrored the action as they ate in silence once more. From everything she’d ever overheard, his mom was one of those subjects people tiptoed around. Yet here he was retelling a part of his past which sounds like it happened yesterday instead of years ago. The scraping of the utensils on the porcelain plates came to a stop as the round dishes now lay empty from both sides. Rafe’s eyes flicked back to Y/N steadily but much softer than before. Like something unspoken had eased between them.

“I haven’t thought about that in a while,” he admitted, his thumb dragging along the edge of his napkin before he rubbed it against his jaw.

“I actually haven’t eaten a meal with someone like this in a long time…”

He glanced down again, folding his napkin in half, then setting his fork and knife neatly beside his empty plate. His coffee cup was almost drained, the last sip resting cool at the bottom and he picked it up looking down into the cup and then set it down again, almost like he didn’t want the moment to end.

“So… thank you,” he said quietly, the words sincere.

“This was nice.”

Y/N studied him, something loosening in her chest. She could see it clearly now- how genuine he was being. She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome.”

Rafe shifted a little, leaned back on the seat. His hand dragged up over his buzzcut, fingers raking through the short strands in an almost nervous motion.

“You know, I uh… I think we could do this more often.”

“…What do you mean?”

She blinked, her hand frozen halfway to her coffee cup and he looked at her now more intentionally.

“Well,” he said, almost like he had to ease himself into it too, “if you stay here- we could do this every morning.”

Her fingers lowered her mug to the counter without taking a sip the ceramic clink loud in the silence. Her brows knit slightly, lips parting just enough to let the question slip through.

“Stay here?”

Rafe’s gaze held hers for a beat before he shook his head a little, as if sorting his own words out before he said them. As though debating if he should push the subject further.

“I don’t know if you remember, but when I came to pick you up yesterday you said—”

“-I said I had nowhere to go.”

She finished for him, the words tumbling out before his could, a small frown drawing her brows down. He paused, a little surprised at her firmness or maybe because she remembered it too.

“Yeah,” he said, “That’s what you said.”

There was a moment where the air seemed to shift so he continued speaking, slower this time,

“So… you can live here. For as long as you like.”

Y/N stared at him. Not in disbelief- though there was some of that circling her thoughts- but more in stunned silence, like her mind needed a minute to catch up with what her ears had just heard.

Live here?

She hadn’t expected that.

Not from him.

Not after what she’d said to him.

And yet his voice wasn’t teasing. His posture wasn’t guarded and she could tell he wasn’t saying it to manipulate her or trap her- because she’s seen that side of him before. He was just offering. Her eyes dropped for a second to her hands wrapped around her mug and she could feel her pulse in her fingertips. When she looked up again, Rafe was still watching her; evidently waiting. Her eyes lifted slowly, hesitant.

“I… I can’t.”

Rafe shifted slightly in his seat, setting his coffee down and leaning forward his forearms resting loosely on the kitchen island.

“Why not?”

“Because—”

Her voice faltered, her lips parting before pressing back together in a tight line. She dropped her gaze to the napkin next to her fingers and she began folding the edge over and over, like the motion might give her something to hold on to. Rafe just watched her patiently and after a moment, he tried again. “C’mon Y/N,” he said, his tone a little less sure.

“Why not?”

She swallowed hard, the napkin now twisted tight in her hands. “I just—” she said, shaking her head, more at herself than at him.

“I can’t, Rafe.”

He leaned back slightly, one hand curling over the back of his neck, rubbing it as though trying to ease something out of his spine. She exhaled hard through her nose, eyes still fixed on the napkin in her hands.

“I shouldn’t even be here right now.”

Rafe tilted his head at that, studying her moving so that his elbow braced against the counter.

“Where else would you be?”

She opened her mouth but nothing came out because the truth was- she didn’t know. She didn’t have a single answer to give. Her whole life, there had always been a place to fall back to, even if it wasn’t much of a home. At least it was a roof over her head and a door that locked. Even if the walls were thin and her father only let her stay because her money kept the lights on and the fridge full.

But now?

Now she had nothing.

No keys.

No door.

No place where she felt wanted.

And Rafe knew it.

His finger tapped against the cool marble of the counter then it stopped- he placed his palm down onto the stone, resting his weight onto his hands. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said, voice low. “You can just be here for as long as you want. No expectations or anything, no pressure just—” He paused, his jaw tightening as he scrubbed a hand across it trying to ease the tension.

“Just stay Y/N.”

Her fingers stilled on the napkin, pressing flat against the tissue as she slowly lifted her gaze. He wasn’t making some vague offer or dangling the idea out of guilt or pity. He was offering her space like he actually wanted her here.

It scared her.

But it also settled something deep in her chest.

“Just for a little while”

She said quietly and Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she spoke. He nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching- not quite a smile, but close.

“Yeah- just for a little while.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft light of the morning filtered in through the guest room window, Y/N stood barefoot in the ensuite bathroom the counter cold beneath her fingertips as she braced herself in front of the mirror. She hadn’t brought anything with her when she left; no bag, no change of clothes, just her car keys, phone and whatever dignity she could scrape together after being thrown out like she was nothing. Now standing in front of a mirror that wasn’t hers in a house that wasn’t hers, she tugged on yesterday’s clothes- her work uniform crumpled from the night before. She exhaled through her nose, steadying her breath as she looked towards the mirror and tilted her chin just slightly.

There it was.

The edge of her jaw, yellow and purple and beginning to darken. The shape of her father’s hand still blooming across her skin like a quiet threat. Her eyes narrowed on it, shoulders tight as a he reached up and brushed a fingertip over the bruise featherlight, and still winced at the dull throbbing ache beneath it.

“Shit”

She murmured under her breath. She pulled her hand away and gripped the edge of the sink again, trying to push down the heat rising behind her eyes, she didn’t have time for this. She turned her head looking through the door toward the bedroom wall, catching the clock, Thirty minutes. That’s all she had before her shift started which meant thirty minutes to pull herself together, thirty minutes to figure out how to cover up the ugly bruise rising like a storm on her face. Y/N grabbed her cracked phone off the bed and scooped her shoes up in one hand, barely paying attention as she padded quietly down the stairs. The house was still warm with the scent of lingering coffee. She didn’t hear anyone… maybe Rafe had gone back to sleep.

She sat down on the bottom step, ducking her head as she slipped her shoes on. The fabric of her white polo was wrinkled and slightly smudged from when she'd been shoved hard onto the floor. The scuffs on her knees were visible and as she leant over to tie her laces she tried not to think about how raw the skin on her palms still felt. A voice called from behind her.

"Where are you going?"

She flinched just slightly, then turned her head.

Rafe was walking toward her from the hallway, brows drawn low in confusion. He leaned his shoulder against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest as he looked her over- his gaze pausing at her crumpled uniform, then at her cheek which was not properly illuminated by the light spilling in through the windows by the front door. She looked back down quickly, pulling her second shoe tighter.

"I'm going to work," she muttered.

"Seriously?"

"Yes seriously, Rafe," she snapped, standing up quickly and brushing her hands over her polo crossing her arms now mirroring his stance.

"I have to go to work or I’ll get fired. I’ve already taken shifts off."

He stayed quiet for a second, then he let out a breath his voice low but sharp,

"You’re going to work in this… state?"

She frowned, eyebrows pulling together. "This state?" Her voice was flat, defensive. "What’s that supposed to mean?" He pushed off the wall stepping closer, "Jesus, Y/N.” Then, he gestured toward her-

“You’ve been beat black and blue. What do you mean, 'this state'? You’ve got a bruise on your cheek, both your knees are scuffed up — I mean, look at your palms." His voice softened a little there, but it didn’t lose its urgency. "They’re still raw." He shook his head.

"Why the hell are you going to work?"

Y/N sighed, a slow, deep breath that left her shoulders sagging just slightly. Not because she was backing down but because she knew he was speaking the truth. She sank back down onto the stairs with a quiet exhale, fingers knotting together in her lap.

“I can’t lose my job too.”

Rafe stood across from her arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. He looked down at her for a beat, and then said firmly,

“You’re not gonna lose your job for taking a day off.”

She let out a dry laugh, one without any humor. “You don’t get it.”

“I’m trying to—”

“No, you don’t understand Rafe.” She snapped, sharper now, lifting her head to meet his eyes. She cut herself off, jaw clenched as she searched for the right words.

“You’ve never had a shitty fucking manager who waits for you to mess up so they can make an example out of you,” she muttered, bitterly. “Never had coworkers who wouldn’t lift a finger to back you up because all they care about is their own paycheck. You’ve never had to beg to stay on the schedule, never had to swallow your pride just to keep the lights on. You’re your own boss- you don’t answer to anyone.”

Her words hung in the air and for once Rafe didn’t argue. His arms slowly dropped to his sides, and he nodded, he looked like he wanted to reach for her- but he didn’t. “You’re right…” he said finally, voice low.

“I don’t understand.”

There was no anger in it. Just honesty. And something else, too- frustration, maybe? Not at her, but at himself, at the fact that no matter how much he wanted to help he couldn’t change the life she came from.

Couldn’t erase it.

But then, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, already unlocking it. Y/N furrowed her brows.

“What are you doing?”

Rafe didn’t look up as he swiped across his screen. “Just making a call.”

“A call to who?” she asked, suspicion curling around her words.

He glanced at her, tone casual. “To get you a day off.”

“Rafe they’re not gonna give me a day off just because you ask nicely. That’s not how it works.”

Y/N let out a humourless laugh and he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face her fully,

“I don’t understand- I probably never will.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden softness in his tone as he continued, “I am my own boss. I don’t answer to anyone- people answer to me so I might as well use that to make it easier for you.”

Her mouth parted slightly, the words caught somewhere between her chest and throat. Then, without another word, Rafe turned and started walking up the stairs, the phone already pressed to his ear. She heard his voice trailing through the open space, professional, as he disappeared down the hall toward the office. Y/N stayed where she was, shoes still half-laced, watching as he stepped into the room and pulled the door nearly shut behind him. She stared for a beat longer, then lowered her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek.

Part of her wanted to fight him on it.

The stubborn part.

The one that said she had to earn everything, prove she could handle it by herself. But the other part- the aching, tired, scuffed-up part- just wants to sit there in the quiet house, trying not to cry at the fact that someone was finally showing up for her. She pushed herself up from the bottom step, her muscles aching in quiet protest as she made her way upstairs. She padded softly down the hall, her footsteps barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. The office door was cracked just slightly open, and she paused there, resting her hands on the doorframe for balance, her fingers curling gently around the edge. Rafe stood near the window, his back to her, phone still to his ear.

“Yeah, that’s great. Pleasure speaking to you… what was your name again? Martin? Yeah... thanks so much have a good one.”

She watched as he slid the phone into his back pocket, shoulders rolling slightly as he turned around. His eyes lifting and landing on her. She was leaning there, half in the room, half still out in the hallway. Her eyes were watching him with that same mixture of stubbornness and something softer underneath.

Curiosity.

He turned towards her looking down to where she stood by the doorframe, before tipping his head towards the guest room.

“Go get changed”

She furrowed her brows. “…Why?”

“Because you’ve got the day off,” he said easily. “So go have a shower. Get changed. Sleep, if you want.” She blinked up at him before a small smile teased its way onto her lips.

“Have a shower… do I stink or something?”

“Didn’t say that.”

Rafe huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he bit back a smile. She looked at him as her eyes squinted a little in confusion,

“How… how did you even do that?”

He shrugged, arms folding across his chest like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“I’m Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh God.”

She rolled her eyes, but it was playful. He grinned, just a little and then she looked up at him again, and this time her voice was quieter.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head but she nodded slowly,

“Yeah I do Rafe.”

The way she said his name, like it meant something more than it used to, made something flicker behind his eyes. He didn’t say anything right away, just looked at her for a moment longer before stepping out of the office. “Go,” he said again, gently this time. But as she started to shift her weight off the doorframe, he added,

“I gotta head out for a few hours. Need to deal with something.”

“Are you sure you want me here? I can go—”

“Y/N”

He cut in, with a dry sort of tone, brows raised slightly like he couldn’t believe she even asked. She blinked, mouth shutting. “Right,” she murmured, ducking her head.

“Stupid question.”

“If you want to get changed, use my stuff… you know where my room is.”

Her eyes flicked up to his face at that just for a beat and then dropped again just as quick. She didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. The implication hung in the air thick like smoke: he knew. He knew she’d been in his bed last night, curled up by his side like she belonged there, like she had nowhere else to go and nothing left to lose. Then his voice cut through it.

“You good…?”

She cleared her throat, eyes still cast down. “Yeah- yeah. I’m good.”

He lingered a second longer, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to believe her then he just gave a small nod, turned and started down the hall. She stood there in the doorway for a long moment after he was gone, her fingers slowly loosening their grip on the wood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She lay back against the comforter her damp hair leaving little imprints on the pillowcase, the towel wrapped snug around her body the only thing keeping her warm. Sunlight drifted in through the sheer curtains casting soft lines across the guest bed but her mind felt far from calm. Her fingers curled over the edge of her towel as she stared up at the ceiling. Rafe had been gone maybe an hour, maybe two. She wasn’t sure. The minutes bled together when she wasn’t doing anything.

All she could think about was him.

How he’d stood there this morning his arms crossed but voice steady, doing everything he could to help her without pushing too hard. How he’d made that call like it was nothing. How he hadn’t even flinched when she snapped back at him but he just… took it. Even after what she said to him, after he’d told her he loved her and she couldn’t even look at him properly.

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, okay?”

“Stop.”

“I can’t do this with you, Rafe. I just can’t.”

“Just let me go home.”

Her stomach turned.

Why the hell was he being so good to her?

She’d left him in that parking lot. Walked away like he hadn’t just stood there with his heart in his hands... like she hadn’t felt it too. And now- now she was here in his house, sleeping in his bed, borrowing his clothes, letting him take care of her like she hadn’t made him feel like a fucking idiot for caring. She shifted slightly, one arm coming up to rest across her forehead.

He should be pissed at her.

Or cold towards her

Or done with her

Instead, he was so gentle with her, like she hadn’t tried to shut the door in his face and maybe that was what made her chest ache the most. Not the bruise swelling on her cheek or the scabbing on her palms but the fact that Rafe Cameron still wanted her around, even when she was at her worst. Even when she didn’t feel worth anything. She exhaled through her nose her eyes fluttering shut.

She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this version of him but a part of her, the one that has been bruised long before last night, kept wondering if she’d ever feel safe trusting someone like this again.

Still, she was here.

The vibration startled her, her phone buzzing against the wood of the bedside drawer breaking the silence. Y/N blinked slowly, pulling herself out of the spiral in her head as she reached over and tugged the towel tighter around her chest.

Sof : hey where are you? :(

Sof : is everything okay???

She stared at the screen for a beat, teeth sinking into her lower lip. Jesus, what was she even supposed to say? Her thumbs hovered then slowly she started typing.

Y/N : yeah just dealing with some shit rn

Sof : what’s going on?

Y/N : my dad kicked me out yesterday

The reply was almost instant.

Sof : what?

Sof : he kicked you out what do you mean

Y/N : he found out.

The typing bubble from Sofia appeared, then disappeared. Finally her reply slid onto the screen.

Sof : the pregnancy?

Y/N : no

Y/N : about the strip club

Sof : Jesus

Sof : I’m so sorry my love

Y/N : don’t be it’s not your fault.

Sof : why didn’t you call me?

Y/N sighed softly resting her head against the headboard as her thumbs began moving against the screen again.

Y/N : it was really late sof and ik you had a morning shift today

Sof : are you hurt?

Sof : is that why you’re not in?

Y/N : something like that

Sof : do you need me to come help you

Y/N : no no don’t do that I’m fine.

There was a legnthy pause between their messages. Then the phone buzzed once more and a message that made her heart skip appeared on the small glowing screen.

Sof : if he’s kicked you out where are you right now?

Y/N stared at the screen

Shit

She could already hear Sofia’s voice in her head- the hesitation, the concern, because Sofia knew everything and she also knew that Rafe Cameron was the last person Y/N said she’d ever want to lean on again. The girl dragged her bottom lip between her teeth and stared down at the blinking cursor in her message box.

Y/N : I’m safe I promise.

But she didn’t press send just yet because safe in this case didn’t mean simple. So Y/N took a breath, eyes lingering on the last message and she deleted it before she started typing again.

Y/N : I’m safe I promise.

Y/N : I’m staying with a friend.

Sofia : right

Sof : and that is?

Her heart thudded a little harder in her chest and she hesitated as she chewed at the inside of her cheek then typed:

Y/N : you don’t know him

Sof : cut the bs Y/N

Sof : where are you

Y/N : I’m staying with Rafe.

The screen stayed still.

No typing bubble.

No message.

Y/N sat up a little her grip tightening slightly around the towel wrapped around her. Her phone remained still in her hand the seconds stretching.

Then—

Sof : Cameron

Y/N : yeah

She could feel it- the way Sofia was probably sitting there, trying to come up with something that wasn’t just “what the fuck”-

Sof : What the fuck

Spoke too soon

Sof : I'm sorry what

Sof : are you being serious with me

Y/N : yes

Sof : what the hell what are you doing at his place Y/N

Sof : does he even know about what’s going on or…?

Y/N exhaled fingers moving quickly now;

Y/N : I called him last night after it happened

Y/N : I panicked Sof I didn’t know who to call

Sof : he picked up?

Y/N : yeah he did

Y/N : he came to pick me up and brought me back here

Y/N : he’s even offered me a place to stay

This time Sofia took a minute to responce,

Sof : wow

Sof : is he being genuine?

Y/N stared at the question for a moment.

Y/N : I think so

She could picture Sofia on the other end of the phone sitting in the tiny country club break room, probably hunched over her phone with her brows furrowed, biting at her cuticles- even though Y/N always tried to break her outof the habbit.

Sof : Y/N you told me yesterday you wanted nothing to do with him...

Y/N : I know Sof I’ve thought about it

Sof : have you now

Y/N : Jesus Sof I don't know what to do

Y/N : I know I was mad at him I was so fucking mad at him and upset and dissapointed but now I just dont know he's been so good to me

Y/N : so good

Y/N : and as much as I want to stay mad at him I can't beacause I think I'm in love with him

Sof : you love him?

Y/N : Yeah

Y/N : well

Y/N : I don’t know

Y/N : I’ve never felt like this before and I know he’s an been an asshole but I just don’t know anymore.

Sof : He picked you up in the middle of the night after you said you never wanted to see him again and now he's letting you stay with him

Sof : You really think he’d do all that if he didn’t care?

Sof : You know guys like him don’t just do stuff like that for anyone

Y/N : I know

Y/N stared at the screen.

Sof : If I had to take a guess

Sof : I’d say he loves you too

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The black Range Rover cut hard into the dirt driveway outside Barry’s trailer, tires kicking up dust as Rafe slammed the door shut behind him. His eyes were sharp as he strode toward the trailer where Barry was crouched by his dirt bike, tools scattered around him. Barry looked up, a slow smirk forming as he let out a low whistle as he drawled out, wiping grease off his hands.

“Who’s got your panties in a twist cuz?”

“What do you know about Luke Maybank?”

Rafe didn’t waste time as he spoke back only for Barry to shrug without looking up, a careless expression on his face, “Shi’ man. All I know is he likes his ambien- dat’s 'bout it.”

“I need his address.”

He scoffed running a hand over his buzz cut clearly not satisfied with the answer he got and Barry chuckled shaking his head.

“You think I’m sum secretary or somethin’? Don’t know where he lives.”

The frustration hit Rafe hard, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like his teeth might grind together and shatter. Suddenly, he spun around abruptly, slamming his palm down on the white plastic table outside the trailer. The table vibrated sharply; a few empty beer bottles teetering and crashing to the ground. Rafe muttered through gritted teeth, the anger heavy in his voice.

“Fuck”

Barry stood straight now brushing his hands on a grease stained rag before tossing it carelessly onto the dirt bike. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing.

“Can you not trash my crib man?”

He said a clear note of warning under the teasing. Rafe didn’t answer right away his shoulders tense, fists still clenched at his sides. The he spun back around, the dead, dusted grass crunching under his shoes as he locked eyes on Barry and gestured a hand toward him.

“Call him- tell him you got a fresh stash.”

Barry blinked and leat back against his rusted trailer with a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. “Why the fuck would I do that?” Rafe took a couple of heavy steps forward the dry grass snapping underfoot.

“Cause I told you to?”

“What, you my boss now Rafe?”

Barry smirked, folding his arms and rocking on his heels. He let out a low, amused chuckle whilst running a hand over his hair pausing momentarily before his grin grew wider, eyes peering up with a sharp edge.

“This about your little bitch at the strip club, ain’t it?”

Rafe’s teeth ground together audibly as the words passed Barry’s lips and he caught the change in tension and let out a slow, knowing laugh.

“Shi’ man… you attached or what?”

Without warning Rafe lunged forward, grabbing Barry roughly by the red cotton of his top and yanking him close. The coarse fabric crumpled under his fingers as his voice dropped to a low growl, deadly serious.

“You’re gonna do it right fucking now, d’you hear me? You’re gonna call that piece of shit and tell him to come over here. Is that fucking clear?”

“ight, ight country club. I’ll do it- tranquillo.”

Barry’s hands shot up palms wide in surrender although still slightly amused by the ordeal as Rafe shoved him back hard enough to make him stumble slightly. He pulled out his cracked phone thumb already scrolling through his contacts as the acrid sun beat down on the two of them, his thumbs lazy typing out a message before pressing send. Then he leans back against the trailer, arms crossed as he shifts his weight. “So am I right... or what?” he says eyes looking Rafe up and down.

“What was her name again- Bunny right?”

Rafe lets out a dry chuckle rolling his eyes, “Y/N,” he replies. Barry shakes his head, clapping his hands together with a satisfied smirk.

“Well I ain’t wrong then am I?”

The tension in Rafe’s jaw relaxes just a bit and Barry gestures toward one of the beaten-up plastic chairs beside the trailer. He drops into it with a scrape of plastic on gravel, patting the empty chair across from him, “sit,” he says nodding. Rafe exhales slowly the tightness in his chest easing as he strides over and lowers himself into the chair. He runs a hand over his jaw, eyes flickering back to Barry as he leans forward, elbows on his knees,

“Why you so worked up man? You don’t lose your shit like this anymore.”

Rafe clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms for a moment before he looks up his voice rough. “He beat her up.” Barry blinks, momentarily serious. “Damn.” He shakes his head,

“...didn’t know your ‘little bunny’ had it that bad.”

Rafe exhales rubbing the back of his neck as he looks ahead of them, the tall trees swaying slightly in the afternoon breeze. The dirt crunches under Barry’s boots as he stands up,

“So what’s the play now? You gonna put that piece of shit in his place?”

“Yeah”

Rafe’s jaw tightens his eyes hard as flint and Barry watches as the kook pushed himself off the plastic chair, fingers tightening around his signet ring, the battered symbol of everything his fucked-up family’s ever stood for.

“He’s gonna fuckin' wish he’d never laid his hands on her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dirt bike rattles to a stop in front of Barry’s trailer, kicking up a loose spray of gravel around it. Luke cuts the engine muttering a curse as he steadies himself; he’s clearly a little buzzed, one foot dragging as he dismounts the bike. Sweat clings to the collar of his shirt, his hair damp and his skin flushed. Barry doesn’t even glance up at first still crouched by the bike he’s been tuning, wiping his oil-slick fingers on a rag. “Maybank” Barry calls finally standing and stretching with a slight crack of his spine.

“I got your shit.”

Luke stumbles forward with a nod, already pulling crumpled bills from his front pocket. “Yeah- yeah great,” he mutters, squinting down as he tries to count them, licking his thumb with a hiccup of his drunken breath.

“How much again?”

Barry doesn’t answer, just stands there watching him, the stillness between them starting to stretch too long. Luke finally looks up. “What?” he mumbles irritably.

“Why’d you call me? You said you had a fresh stash right?”

Barry jerks his chin toward the busted lawn chair a few feet away. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.” Luke narrows his eyes,

“I’m good-”

“-sit down man.”

Barry’s voice sharpens and the man blinks at the tone- stiffer than he’s used to from the dealer. After a moment of hesitation he mutters something under his breath and sinks into the chair, the cracked plastic groaning under his weight. He leans back trying to look casual but there’s a crease forming between his brows now. Barry walks over to the dented metal cooler near the steps of his trailer and pops the lid, pulling out a beer he cracks it open with a hiss before taking a long, deliberate swig. He leans one shoulder against the nearby railing, watching Luke over the rim of the can.

Barry moves from the railing and drops lazily into the second chair not too far from Luke and stretches his legs out in front of him, beer bottle resting on his thigh, eyes not leaving the older man across from him. Luke shifts, sensing something’s off so he clears his throat and tries to play it casual.

“What do you uh- want Barry?”

Barry leans forward slightly, “Y’know… you been a customer a long time now.”

Luke bobs his head tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh, “Yeah, yeah... I'm loyal.”

Barry looks like he’s about to say something else his mouth opening to speak but Luke cuts in sitting up a bit in his chair now, voice a little too eager.

“So since I’ve been loyal… think I could get somethin’ a little stronger tonight?”

“You want a bump?”

Barry snorts amused, head tilting to the side. Luke’s already reaching for his pocket, pulling out a crumple of bills and laying them down on the plastic table between them. He smooths them out quick and clumsy and then leans back expectantly. Barry just stares at the money.

Doesn’t reach for it.

Doesn’t even blink.

Then he laughs, right in Luke’s face.

“You think that’s enough?”

He asks, still chuckling. Luke shifts again licking his lips. “No, no—I know it’s not. I just… I’m a little tight right now, but I’ll get it to you. I swear.” Barry swirls the bottle in his hand, watching the foam rise to the neck before letting it settle.

“You ain’t got no money?”

“I do,” Luke insists, his voice pitching slightly.

“My daughter- she’ll give me some.”

Barry raises an eyebrow his gaze sharpening at the mention of the girl. “Your daughter huh?” Luke nods, a little too fast. “Yeah, I’ll find her. She- she’s probably at a friend’s or some shit like that...”

“You don’t know where she is?” Barry leans back the beer bottle resting against his bottom lip now, his expression unreadable as he watches the man. Luke’s lips part momentarily in a pause before words tumble past his lips again,

“No- I mean, yeah, I do. She ain’t home cause-”

“-Cause you kicked her out.”

The voice is ice-cold cutting across the humid, sticky air like a blade. Luke freezes mid-sentence, his eyes snapping to the side. Rafe stands at the bottom of the trailer steps, his arms crossed tight over his chest, biceps flexed under the sleeves of his t-shirt and his jaw sharp with tension. Luke’s face pales, blood draining from it like someone pulled a plug at the bottom of a bathtub.

“What the hell’s this?”

He mutters sitting forward his unease evidently rising. Barry, still in his chair, takes another lazy sip of beer like it’s just another evening on the Cut. Rafe doesn’t move, but his voice is low and controlled when he speaks again.

“Go on- Finish your sentence.”

Luke’s already rising from the chair, a confused scowl warping his face. “The fuck are you—”

But he doesn’t get to finish because Rafe’s on him in an instant, stepping forward and shoving both palms hard against his chest, slamming him back down into the seat with a crack of strain from the old plastic legs. The chair groans under the force, dirt crunching beneath it as it drags slightly from the impact. “Finish your sentence,” Rafe growls his voice a low snarl.

“Where’s your daughter huh?”

Luke shoves at his hands, trying to push himself up again. “I kicked her out,” he snaps back defiantly, his breath hot with stale beer. Rafe’s jaw flexes his lips curling into a humorless scoff. He paces back a step nodding like he needed to hear it said out loud. “Yeah, you did,” he says,

“You fucking kicked her out after you beat her black and blue.”

Luke's eyes narrow and his head swivels to Barry now, desperate, eyes darting. “What is this?” Barry shrugs, finally setting the empty beer bottle down on the table with a dull clink. He raises both palms, expression almost amused.

“Just here for the show.”

Luke’s barely processed what Barry's said when Rafe’s hand fists the front of his t-shirt and yanks him up out of the chair with one swift jerk. “Get the fuck up,” Rafe snaps, shoving him roughly out from behind the table. The plastic chair scrapes and topples with a clatter as Luke stumbles forward, catching himself on unsteady feet. The dirt kicks up around them, warm air thick with tension and dust. Luke turns back toward Rafe, fists half-raised, teeth gritted.

“You think you’re tough? Just cause she let you play hero for a night?”

Luke lets out this smug little scoff his head tilting as he sizes Rafe up like he’s suddenly got the upper hand, “Where’d you meet her?” His tone drips sarcasm, teeth flashing behind that alcohol-slicked grin. “High-end kook like you- look at the fuckin’ watch on your wrist.” His eyes flick down to the glinting Rolex hugging Rafe’s wrist, catching the sun.

“Yeah... you met her at that club didn’t you?”

Rafe doesn’t move but his jaw locks tight enough to snap bone. Luke only grins wider at Rafe's lack of response, emboldened by the silence. He steps closer his breath thick.

“What, you stuff a couple bills in her panties and now she’s lettin’ you fuck her huh?”

The next words are spit with venom, ugly and sharp.

“Cause she’s a slut-”

CRACK

Rafe’s fist connects with Luke’s jaw before the last word even finishes leaving his mouth. A sickening crunch fills the air as Luke’s head snaps to teh side and his body stumbles with it, knees buckling under the impact. Blood spatters from his lip instantly blooming red across his teeth and he drops with a thud. Rafe stands over him his chest heaving, fist still curled and twitching at his side. His knuckles are split blood already rising causing a red hue to spread across his skin. “I dare you to call her that again,” he spits out barely restrained.

“Fucking dare you.”

Luke groans as he pushes himself up, boots scraping through the dirt. He spits a thick string of blood from his mouth, the red splattering across the dry ground with a smack. Wiping the back of his hand across his split lip as he stares Rafe down, rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“She’s a slut”

He snarls, the word hurled like a weapon sharp and hateful.nRafe doesn’t blink his chest rising and falling and his neck taut. Luke smirks, that same cruel gleam in his eye.

“And you’re a dumbass for believing whatever little fantasy she’s feeding you.”

Rafe lunges.

The tension snaps as he crashes into Luke, fists flying. The force drives Luke back into the table with a loud bang, the plastic legs groaning before one buckles, sending it toppling sideways. Beer bottles roll into the dirt the glass clinking and cracking. However, Luke doesn’t stay down this time. He shoves Rafe off with a grunt his fist swinging up hard, landing a solid shot to Rafe’s ribs. A grunt tears from Rafe’s throat but he barely stumbles, surging back. He grabs Luke by the collar and slams him into the side of the trailer with a metallic clang, the whole structure rattling. Dust clouds the air and Luke grits out a laugh, even as blood runs from his nose.

“You fighting for some pussy?”

Rafe snarls, slamming Luke into the trailer wall again, the sound echoes through the yard. The older man barely has time to suck in a breath before Rafe’s fist crashes into his face again.

Once

Twice

Bone meets flesh with sick, brutal cracks. Luke crumples to the ground with a grunt, hitting the dirt hard. A cloud of dust kicks up around him, clinging to the blood smeared across his face but Rafe isn’t done.

Not even close

He drops down on top of him, knee pressing into Luke’s gut to pin him whilst one hand fists the front of his shirt as the other keeps swinging. Each hit is heavier than the last even though his knuckles are already split, blood spattering across Luke’s cheek, temple and the dirt below them. Luke’s arms flail weakly trying to cover his face but Rafe swats them aside like nothing. The sound of impact is wet and horrible, flesh on flesh, Luke’s nose is broken blood now pouring out freely soaking into his collar.

Barry stand and lets out a low whistle watching for a second before he moves. “Hey!” he finally shouts out, voice sharp and cutting as he moves forward.

“Enough”

But Rafe doesn’t stop, his shoulders are heaving and his body curled over like an animal, fist raised again.

“Rafe- Rafe! That’s enough, man!”

No response.

Rafe’s pupils are blown, teeth gritted, his fist hovers in the air, trembling. Barry steps closer, hands raised but firm.

“You’re gonna kill him.”

Rafe still doesn’t move.

“You kill him out here,” Barry says quieter now, but dead serious, “and you’re gonna fuck it up.”

There’s blood smeared down Rafe’s arm, dripping from the tips of his fingers. Luke’s barely conscious now his face a mangled mess of red and swelling. He lets out a low, wet groan but still Rafe’s fist doesn’t drop. His eyes flicker- still brutal- but something about what's been said finally cuts through the haze. His hand falls but not in a punch, instead limp at his side. He staggers back a little, breathing hard, staring down at what he’s done. His own chest rising and falling like he’s just run for miles. Barry exhales, stepping between them now, hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

“That’s enough man. You made your point.”

Rafe doesn’t stay backed off for long though.

His breath still ragged and his chest is heaving, he steps forward again rage still simmering under his skin and he leans down and grabs the front of Luke’s blood-soaked t-shirt, jerking him up off the dirt with one brutal yank. Luke lets out a pained groan, his head lolling to the side eyes dazed, blood running down from his nose and lip. His hands scrabble weakly at Rafe’s wrist. Rafe yanks him closer their faces inches apart his voice low,

“If you ever fucking touch her again... I’ll kill you.”

His knuckles go white from the pressure as he jerks Luke even closer nearly nose to nose. Luke’s trembling hand pushes faintly against Rafe’s forearm, a useless attempt to create space but Rafe doesn’t budge. His teeth are clenched so tightly the muscle in his jaw twitches uncomfortably as he spits out,

“I’ll fucking kill you - do you understand me?”

Luke wheezes, a grunt of pain caught in his throat- Rafe lets go, shoving him back down with a vicious force and Luke hits the dirt hard, coughing as dust kicks up around his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The kitchen at Tannyhill was warm and the air was thick with the scent of roasted garlic and rosemary. Potatoes were crisping in the oven, their edges bubbling in a thin coat of butter and something rich simmered on the stove, a blend of slow-cooked vegetables and herbs filling the space with a mouthwatering aroma. Y/N stood at the counter, dish towel slung over her shoulder, she was almost done, potatoes ready to be turned and veggies needing one last stir. The front door opening then closing echoed in the walls of the house. She froze. Her hand hovered over the tray and her eyes cut towards the hall.

“…Rafe?”

Silence.

Her heart climbed a little higher in her chest.

What if—

“Yeah- it’s me.”

His voice- unmistakable- rang out and relief spilled out of her lungs all at once. She turned back to the tray, nudging the potatoes back into place with the spatula before plating them up. She wiped her palms on the kitchen towel, then reached for the spoon, giving the vegetables a slow, steady stir as her nerves settled. She the oven door open, a soft whoosh of heat rushing out and bent carefully, lifting out the roasted chicken, skin golden and crisped to perfection. Placing it gently onto a serving plate she then carried it over to the kitchen island. Behind her, she heard footsteps across the wood floor.

Rafe appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on a towel he’d clearly snagged from the bathroom. His sleeves were pushed up, knuckles still red and swollen. His eyes swept over the spread on the table before settling on her. He asked with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth,

“What’s this?”

“I made you dinner…”

She said, not quite looking at him as she checked the vegetables one last time. Rafe let out a quiet huff shaking his head.

“I told you to rest.”

“I did rest,” she replied lightly, glancing over her shoulder with a small teasing smile.

“But then I got bored.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound deep and warm. “You’re unreal,” he muttered as he stepped over to the cabinets, pulling down two plates and grabbing cutlery. “Come sit,” she said,

“It’s pretty much ready.”

“Did you even sit down?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes I did,”

She insisted with a playful bite to her voice, watching him now as he moved around the kitchen, that ease which once used to be between them coming back like muscle memory. He turned to look at her then, closer now, and the playful air dimmed just slightly as his eyes dropped to the bruise blooming on her cheek. Without a word he lifted his hand his fingers brushing lightly along the edge of the fading mark. The color was ugly- yellowing, tinged with green and purple- but healing.

“How’s your cheek?”

He asked quietly, his hand hovering, not quite ready to pull away. She gave a small shrug at his question.

“It’s okay... could be worse.”

Rafe let out a hum at that, not agreement but in not comfort either. It was low and heavy, edged with something like dissatisfaction. Anger still smoldering under the surface of his skin. His thumb lingered just a second longer before he finally lowered his hand, jaw tight as he looked at her. She met his gaze then she blinked it away.“C’mon,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Sit down. Food’s gonna get cold.”

Rafe nodded, settling opposite her at the kitchen island and he glanced over the food laid out in front of him; roasted chicken, golden potatoes, vegetables glistening in olive oil and herbs. It looked like something out of one of those fancy food magazines. He exhaled a low breath, eyes still moving across the spread.

“… how long have you been here?”

“Not that long,” she said, brushing it off with a shrug, already reaching for the serving spoon. “Here.” She started plating food for him, giving him the best cut of chicken without even thinking twice about it. The way she moved, confident and familiar, it twisted something in his chest. He watched her plate up his food like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a second…his mind drifted.

To this.

To every night being like this. Her in the kitchen, his clothes over her frame, the smell of dinner filling the air. Him walking through the door to her, not some silent, cold and empty house. He imagined reaching for a beer from the fridge while she set the table, her rolling her eyes when he tried to sneak a bite before dinner. Her laughing at him… him kissing her forehead… maybe her hand resting on her rounded belly-

His thoughts twitched

"You’re a dumbass for believing whatever little fantasy she’s feeding you."

The words came back to him like static in his skull. Luke's voice, slimy and cruel, but still sharp enough to pierce straight through him. The truth of it tasted sour in his mouth because maybe he was a dumbass. Maybe this; this dinner, this warmth, this imagined life with her- it was all just some fantasy.

A lie he’d dressed up with hope.

She’d told him herself, hadn’t she?

“I can’t do this with you, Rafe.”

Right there in the parking lot, her voice shaking as she said it. He blinked hard, the heat from the food in front of him suddenly doing nothing to warm the cold pit in his stomach. His jaw clenched, breath caught shallow in his throat as she turned and handed him a fork with a soft, distracted smile.

“Thanks”

The rhythmic scrape of forks against ceramic was the only real sound between them for a while. Y/N let out a soft hum as she reached for her glass of water, the condensation cooling her fingers. After a sip, she glanced at him her voice light but laced with uncertainty.

“Is it okay…?”

Rafe didn’t answer right away, finishing his bite and swallowing as he nodded, licking a bit of sauce off his thumb. “S’more than okay,” he said,

“Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“I worked as kitchen staff in the country club for a bit… learnt a thing or two”

“Yeah no shit… I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked dinner like this...”

A small smile tugged at her lips and she looked down at her plate, shifting the chicken around absently with her fork, her stomach feeling warm not just from the food she’d consumed but from the knowledge he was enjoying it- that he was satisfied. But before she could relish in the feeling longer her appetite was suddenly curling away from her.

She had to tell him.

She could feel it pressing at her chest, that need to speak, to get it out of her before it dissolved into fear again.

He had to know how she really felt.

He had to.

Her eyes lifted, ready to finally say something- but then her words caught in her throat as her brows furrowed.

“What happened to your hands…?”

Her gaze had landed on his knuckles- raw, red and already blooming with deep bruises. The skin was split on one, crusted with dried blood. The smile faded from her lips as she set her fork down, the soft clink echoing sharper than expected. “Rafe,” she said again this time lower.

“What did you do?”

He didn’t answer right away, just reached for his glass, like he could find something at the bottom of it to help him lie. Rafe let out a sigh, set the glass down with a dull thud. “Nothing,” he said quickly. Too quickly. A shrug followed, like he was trying to brush it off before he repeated himself,

“Nothing.”

Y/N set her cutlery down, the clink sharp in the now tense space between them.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Her brows were pinched, eyes sharp as they searched his face. She knew him, knew when he was bluffing. He held her gaze for a second, jaw tight.

“S’not something you need to worry about.”

“I am worrying about it just answer my questi-”

“It’s nothing to do with you. Let it go”

Before he could say anything else, she pushed herself back from the kitchen island, the legs of her stool scraping against the floor.

“Y/N- wait. Where are you going?”

She was already walking toward the double doors at the front of the house, her bare feet silent against the tile. Her chest was tight with that mix of concern and dread she couldn’t quite name.

“Hey- hey-”

Rafe stepped forward, catching her wrist, turning her around. She pulled it back instantly. His shoulders dropped, “Just—wait,” he breathed.

“I’ll explain.”

She stood her ground, arms crossing over her chest like an armour. Rafe’s hand moved to his face dragging down the length of it like it hurt to even begin to explain. He swept a hand over his buzzed hair, then rested it on the back of his neck. “Can you…” He sighed,

“Can you just come sit down… -please?”

She hesitated for a second, heart in her throat, then gave the smallest nod and followed him back to the kitchen island. The chair scraped softly as she slid back into it and her eyes didn’t leave him. Not once. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap beneath the counter where he wouldn’t notice. Rafe stayed standing for a moment, pacing slightly, like he didn’t know where to begin. Then he dropped into the seat beside her with a heavy exhale. His voice was low,

“I saw your dad.”

The words hit her like a slap. Her entire body stilled, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. She stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted but no sound came. When she finally managed it, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“…what?”

He looked at her, regret flashing across his face, but he didn’t take it back. “I saw him,” he said again, “tonight.” She shook her head slowly like she was trying to rewind time, like maybe she’d misheard him. Her voice broke off before the sentence could form.

“Why—why would you…?”

“Because he put his hands on you and no one gets to do that.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. She blinked quickly, trying to process it all at once, but it was like the air had thickened around her and it made her throat burn. An odd feeling curled in her stomach- hard to name. At first, she thought it might’ve been anger or maybe dread. Creeping in like it always did when her father was brought up but as she sat there, staring at Rafe, something shifted.

It wasn’t anger.

It wasn’t even sadness.

It was something… unfamiliar.

It was the first time anyone had ever stood up to him for her.

Not just talked back, not just muttered under their breath about how he was a piece of shit when he wasn’t around but really stood up- to his face.

For her.

And it did something to her. Broke something open maybe. This quiet, aching part of her that has lived so long in fear that she forgot what it felt like to be protected, to feel worth protecting. Her eyes burned, and she blinked a few times to fight it off, jaw tightening slightly. She looked at Rafe again; his busted knuckles, his face drawn tight with nerves, with guilt but not regret.

Rafe watched her quietly. She hadn’t said a word since he told her just sat there, eyes wide and a little glassy, like her mind had drifted somewhere else. He shifted on his feet, uneasy.

“Are you… angry at me?”

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she shook her head fast, the word cracking in her throat.

“No- no. I’m not angry at you. Why would I be?”

He nodded slowly, lips pressing into a thin line but something in him still didn’t settle. He pushed himself up from the chair he’d sat in momentarily and stepped towards her. She looked up at him as he came to stand in front of her. Her eyes caught the bruising on his knuckles again, but this time, she didn’t ask. Her breath just stilled in her chest. Rafe’s hand lifted, careful and slow, his fingers brushed over her cheek once more, the pad of his thumb soft against the bruise blooming along her skin. The touch made her eyes flutter for a second. “I promise,” he murmured, voice low and sure.

“He’ll never lay his hands on you again.”

She looked up at him slowly, voice barely a whisper.

“Why did you do it?”

Rafe doesn’t answer right away, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he breathes out slowly, eyes fixed on her face.

“Because no one else was going to.”

His voice is quiet but firm, like the words have lived in his chest for too long. She gazes up at him, stunned by the rawness in his tone, still trying to process the way her stomach twists, not in anger but something else entirely. And then, before he can stop himself he speaks out

“Because I care about you.”

The words tumble out, unpolished and exposed and he flinches like maybe he didn’t mean to say them aloud. Yet he doesn’t take them back, only watches her anticipating her response. Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek, brow pulling ever so slightly.

“You’re not supposed to...”

His head dips slightly, a scoff of disbelief escaping as he rubs a hand over his chin.

“I can’t help myself Y/N.”

His eyes meet hers again, desperation now barely hidden behind his voice.

“I know what you said to me, okay? I know you don’t want this, that you think this thing between us is too fucked up or too complicated, but I-” He swallows,

“I can’t ignore it- I tried.”

He exhales roughly.

“When I think about you going back to him, to that house, and I think about the way you looked last night-”his voice falters for a second, almost breaking.

“I can’t pretend I don’t feel something. Not when it’s this strong.”

She bites her lip, the pressure of it grounding her, holding back everything she’s been too scared to say. But it doesn’t matter even if she were to bite her lip raw, the truth is clawing its way out of her chest, demanding to be heard. Her voice comes quieter than before, nearly a whisper.

“I came into your room last night.”

The words settle between them and Rafe doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink at first. Then his brows pull together, a subtle shift in his expression.

“I know…” he says, “I noticed the sheets this morning.”

There’s no accusation in his tone, more like something that feels a lot like hope. She nods, a small, almost nervous motion. Her fingers twist together in her lap. “I—” She hesitates, breath catching.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Rafe says nothing. Just watches her, eyes scanning her face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Like he’s trying to figure out what exactly she’s trying to tell him as her eyes are glassy and her voice barely holding together.

“I couldn’t close my eyes all night but after ten minutes with you I fell asleep because I didn’t feel so- alone. When I’m with you I don’t feel alone...”

And there it is, the truth, trembling and delicate in the space between them. Rafe’s chest rises with a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hand rests flat on the edge of the kitchen island, fingers lightly curled, like he’s anchoring himself there, like if he moves even a little the whole moment might shatter.

And her eyes drop to it.

Her breath hitches as her hand slowly lifts from her lap, fingers trembling faintly as she reaches out- barely brushing her fingertips against his. A ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make his hand twitch beneath hers, his fingers turning instinctively to meet the contact. She keeps her gaze down. Her voice comes soft, almost like she’s afraid to speak too loudly and ruin it.

“I don’t know how to stop thinking about you.”

He doesn’t move.

“No matter what I’m doing, my mind just… finds its way back to you.”

She swallows, her fingers pressing a little firmer into his now, her thumb grazing over one of his bruised knuckles.

“And it scares me... because I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

The silence thickens, but not in a bad way. She lifts her gaze finally, looking up at him through lashes damp with emotion.

“I don’t know when it started. I just know I can’t function without you anymore. And I know that I told you I couldn’t do this- but I didn’t mean it. I was scared. I still am. But not of you.” Her voice breaks, but she keeps going, the words tumbling out, ragged and honest.

“I’m scared of how much I feel for you but I’m more scared of pretending it’s not real.”

Her hand is fully wrapped around his now, and Rafe hasn’t said a word. He’s just looking at her like she hung the stars, like this is the first time in his life someone has ever said they need him and meant it. Finally, he lets out barely a whisper,

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That you feel something for me.”

“I feel everything for you Rafe.”

She rises slowly from the stool, the scrape of wood against tile quiet beneath the heaviness in the room. Now, standing in front of him, she’s close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin, close enough to see the way his chest rises and falls a little unevenly. Rafe’s eyes flicker, from her eyes to her lips and back again. Her hand is still on his, their fingers tangled now and her other hand lifts gently, brushing against his arm. He doesn’t speak, he can’t seem to find the voice in his throat to say anything. So she does, her voice quiet but steady.

“I love you Rafe.”

The words feel too big for the air between them and his eyes close for just a beat like the words hit something deep in him he wasn’t ready for but needed all the same. When they open again, they’re glassy but locked on hers.

“Say it again.”

She steps even closer, her breath brushing his chin now.

“I love you.”

And that’s all it takes, he leans down slowly, giving her the chance to move away, but she doesn’t. Her hand slides up, fingers curling around the nape of his neck, and his free hand lifts to her waist. Their lips meet in a kiss that’s soft at first, like both of them are scared they’ll wake up and this will all disappear. But it deepens with every second- slow and aching and full of everything they’ve been too scared to say, everything that’s been building in the silence. When they finally part, just barely, their foreheads rest together, both of them breathless. Rafe’s voice is a whisper,

"You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he murmurs, his forehead still pressed to hers, his breath brushing over her skin. Then right before he leans down again he adds,

“Not with me.”

He catches her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, and she nods into him, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting softly against his as her hand curls around the back of his neck and her other drifts to his jaw, like she needs every part of him under her touch. Their bodies stay close, pressed together, and before she realises he’s moving them- walking them slowly through the kitchen his lips never leaving hers. He speaks between kisses, voice low and earnest against her mouth.

“Gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…”

She follows his lead, the heat of his hands anchoring her, the soft rhythm of their mouths like a slow dance. Her thumb brushes under his ear as he mutters again, lips ghosting over hers,

“Nothings gonna hurt you baby.”

Then her skin hits the cool edge of the leather couch behind her knees and he gently guides her down onto it. She sinks into the cushions, pulling him down with her, her hands still holding onto him like she can’t bear to let go. He settles over her his body not a heavy weight but rather wrapping around her like a shield, warm and safe. Between soft, slow kisses, he whispers the words that unravel something deep inside her,

“I love you.”

Not rushed this time. Not desperate. Just sure, the kind of love that’s been living in his chest far longer than he’s been willing to admit. Her breath catches, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as her lips brush his one more time, and this time there’s no fear in her. The only sound shared between them is the soft rhythm of their breaths and the tender press of their lips.

His hand is cradling her jaw, his thumb brushing beneath her cheekbone with infinite care and then slowly it drifts downward. He kisses her again, a little slower this time, as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her T-shirt. She breathes out just barely against his mouth, not out of surprise but at the warmth of his hand resting against the bare skin of her waist.

His touch is featherlight and he doesn’t rush it. His thumb makes slow, smoothing circles over her skin, like he’s memorizing the shape of her; every curve, every shiver, every quiet breath she gives him.

She melts into him with a sigh, her fingers curling a little tighter into the material the back of his shirt. Her heart is racing- not from nerves, but from the way he’s touching her like she’s something sacred. He pulls back just a little to look at her, eyes dark and soft all at once.

“You okay?”

He asks and she nods, her breath shaky. “I’m okay,” she says, lips brushing his.

“I’m more than okay.”

Her hands move to his chest now, her fingertips skimming over the fabric of his shirt like she wants to feel the beat of his heart beneath it. And when he leans down to kiss her again, his thumb still tracing slow circles into her side, she arches just slightly into his touch- wanting to be closer.

Needing it.

The couch creaks beneath them as they shift, bodies fitting together like pieces meant to find one another.

Her fingers, once gently clutching the collar of his shirt, start to slide down skimming over the front of his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating hard beneath the fabric. The heat between them has shifted now, not frantic but more heady. She tugs lightly at the hem of his shirt, her breath still mingling with his, lips barely an inch apart.

"Take it off"

She whispers, the words a soft request against his mouth and his eyes open to meet hers.

"You sure?"

He murmurs, voice rough his forehead brushing gently against hers again and she nods, eyes never leaving his.

"I want you to… I want this. With you."

He leans back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind them without looking. Her breath hitches but it's not his shirtless form that leaves her breathless but the dark bruise blooming across his ribcage, purpling the skin in angry shades. Her breath hitches and without thinking her hand lifts, fingertips ghosting carefully over the mark.

“Jesus Rafe…”

He glances down like he forgot it was there then shrugs slightly brushing it off with a quiet,

“It’s nothing...”

But she doesn’t pull her hand away, her palm settles gently against his bruised side grounding both of them and she looks up at him- her gaze soft and almost- guilty. “No,” she whispers, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s not nothing.”

Rafe watches her, his chest rising and falling slowly with her touch and he reaches out placing his palm over her hand which rests upon the bruise, slowly dragging it up to rest it over his pounding heartbeat murmuring out to her,

“I’d do it a million times again if it means you’re safe.”

And something in her cracks open. Her brows pull together, eyes glassy as she leans in to kiss him again- deeper- like she’s trying to pour every unspoken thing into that moment. He’s reaching for her again his hands finding her sides, skin against skin, and his touch feels like warmth and safety and everything she didn’t know she was craving. Her fingers trail down his chest to reach for the hem of her own top, pulling it over her head and dropping it by the edge of the couch, her palms flattening against his bare chest as she arches into him just a little and she's whispering to him,

“Take it off”

Her hands lead his up her body, finding the strap of her bra where it rests along her shoulder. She glances up at him and he nods like he’s honoured she asked. He shifts gently, easing his weight off of her just enough to slip his hand behind her back, fingers carefully finding the clasp. It takes him a second for the tension to loosen, the band loosening around her ribs. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, and as he pulls the straps down her arms, her eyes never leave his face. He doesn’t look away, not even for a second. Once her bra comes off he lets his eyes trace every inch of her like the sight of her has left him stunned.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long...”

A soft breath catches in her throat at his confession and her fingers find his face again, stroking gently along his jaw as his face dips down again his lips leaving a soft trail of kisses down her neck, scattering them across her skin like a bed of wildflowers in a field.

Her breath hitched and her hand slipped up to the back of his head as he kissed down her sternum- carefully worshiping the valley between her breast before he paused, eyes flickering up to look at her in quiet questioning. She released her tender bottom lip which was caught between her teeth nodding slightly. Before she could say anything else a soft hum passed her lips as his own closed around her breast, tongue gliding over her peaked nipple carefully waiting for her reaction. Her thighs widened slightly letting his body slot into place comfortably between her legs. His mouth worked against her, tongue languidly dragging across the sensitive skin whilst his other hand reached up, rolling her sensitive bud between his fingers causing her to let out a soft breathy call of his name. His hand trailed down the soft line of her body, fingertips pausing right at the waistband of the sweatpants she’d borrowed from him and his fingers toy with the hem, not pushing forward, just resting there. He lifted his gaze from her body back to her face, searching.

“We don’t have to do this today”

He said his voice low and sincere and she blinked at him before a teasing smile curved at the corner of her lips.

“I thought you said you’ve been waiting for this hmm?”

He let out an amused huff shaking his head,

“You make me sound like a perv.”

She laughed, a melodic sound that slipped into his chest and settled near his heart. “You kinda are,” she teased gently, running a hand over his hair. He sobered slightly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face before murmuring,

“I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Her smile softened, and she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “You’re not,” she said honestly.

“I want to do this with you Rafe.”

He stared at her, thumb brushing along her knuckles as though still trying to convince himself this was real.

“Are you sure-”

“-take my pants off before I change my mind.”

She cut him off with a dramatic sigh, hand coming up to hold his face firmly. He groaned through a grin, shaking his head at her sass as he leaned down to kiss her again, amused as he murmured against her lips,

“Alright smart mouth”

His hand slipped back down, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband this time and her breath caught in anticipation. He began to ease the fabric down she lifted her hips to help him slip the sweat pants off, leaving her legs bares, causing the cool air of the house to raise goosebumps across her skin. Then came his touch as he ran his palms down the outside of her thighs, like he was trying to warm her back up and he leaned in, brushing a kiss just below her navel.

Then another, a little lower.

And another.

Trailing down her skin in a path of heat, his lips moved slowly, like he was memorising her. She exhaled shakily, watching him through heavy eyes as his kisses traveled further down her stomach, past her hips, down the inside of her thigh- each one soft and lingering, almost worshipful.

Like he was praying with his mouth.

Like she was something holy.

His lips hovered over the soft skin of her inner thigh, and he looked up at her through thick lashes as his hands came up to lift her thighs, placing them over his shoulders. Instinctively her hand came to his hair her fingers slipping over the short, bristly strands. His hands slid up her legs and came to a stop at her hips, thumbs rubbing small circles onto her skin right above the band of her black panties.

"Was sort of hoping you'd be wearing those pink ones.. you know the ones that say-"

"-Bunny?"

She cuts him off as a smile breaks on to his face telling her all she needed to know. She let out a small humorous hum before speaking out,

"I'm sure that can be arranged..."

"Hmmm- I'd like that"

His murmured back, his head leaning down and she gasped as his breath ghosted over her covered pussy, her body suddenly feeling hotter, the ache between her legs impossible to ignore. He looked up at her then, his eyes darker than before.

"Tell me what you need Bunny"

He spoke his voice low. Y/N's breath hitched as she shook her head, trying to maintain some semblance of control. She hated herself for giving into him so easily, she'd always told herself if this ever were to happen she'd be the one in-control, she'd be the one placing the cards on the table. But she can't seem to find the strength to stop him, his touch is like a drug and she's not ready to deal with the withdrawals.

"I..."

Rafe merely smirked as he looked up to her, his pupils blown wide as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her covered mound.

"Gotta speak up baby"

Her mouth parted, trembling at his movements and she couldn't help but let out a pitiful whimper at his actions.

"Use your words"

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her legs, throwing them somewhere across the room as he pushed her back against the couch; resting her thighs over his shoulders once more as he settled between her legs, his hand coming up to spread her folds, already damp with her arousal.

"I want you to touch me"

She breathed out as he looked up to her, his hands slowly running up and down her thighs, causing the heat between her thighs to become unbearable.

"Where d'you want me to touch you?"

He breathed out, his breath ghosting over her pussy making her hips buck into his face, to which his hand came down to her lower stomach, pressing her back down into the leather of the couch, his bicep flexing at the motion.

"Right here?"

"Rafe- plea-"

She started but was cut off when his mouth pressed against her, tongue delving between her folds with a hunger that made her cry out. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her moan as she writhed beneath him. "Don't," he spoke out, one of his hands letting go of her thigh to pull her hand away from her face, intertwining their fingers,

"I wanna hear you."

She couldn't help but let a soft moan pass through her lips causing Rafe to groan against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her clit with a skill that had her seeing stars."Rafe..." she whimpered, her hips bucking against his face, her hand in his hair pulling him closer.

"Fuck- just like that... please. Please don't stop"

He obliged, doubling his efforts as he brought his hand which was resting on her thigh down to her sopping wet hole which was desperately clenching around nothing. Sucking her clit back between his lips his middle finger came out, slowly circling her entrance before pushing in with ease, her pussy pulling him in with no resistance. A loud whine spilled from her lips and Y/N let her head drop back against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut as her heels dug into his back, her hips lifting to meet his mouth. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke of his tongue.

Rafe pulled back, fingers still languidly moving against as her eyes shoot open looking down to him. He's grinning up at her his chin glistening with her arousal. She whimpered at the sight of him her body shivering with need as she stared down at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes.

"That feel good baby?"

He murmured, his voice low and seductive. It wasn't a question but rather a statement, one that sent shivers down her spine. She blinked trying to process his words through the fog of desire clouding her mind as his fingers still worked in and out of her, curling slightly causing her to swallow harshly.

"Yes- yes-"

She whined out her voice breathy and needy.

"This what you wanted? My mouth against this pretty pussy..."

Rafe trailed his tongue up the thigh, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. She moaned, her hips bucking against his face as she sought more friction, more pleasure. "Yes-" she gasped, her hand which wasn't gripping the edge of the couch flying to the back of his head, eagerly pushing his back towards her pussy.

"Yes! Oh shit I- please Rafe"

He hummed the sound low in his throat as he pressed a kiss to her throbbing clit, his tongue delving between her folds with a hunger that stole her breath. She groaned out, her head tilting forwards to watch him indulge in her- her mouth falling open slightly as she rocked against his face. He licked and sucked, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as he held her in place. "Fuck," she whimpered, her body trembling on the edge of ecstasy.

"Don't stop oh- please don't stop."

He didn't, why would he when she was a such a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Her body tensed, her thighs trembling around his head as she chased the euphoric feeling. She whimpered, her voice high and desperate.

"I'm gonna cum- I'm gonna fucking cum"

He grunted against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body which sent her over the edge. Her body trembled, thighs clamping around his head and her walls tightening around his fingers. Rafe's hips ground against the couch slightly to try ease the throbbing feeling in his briefs at the sound of her cries of pleasure as he continued to work her through her orgasm.

"That's it sweet girl"

He murmured out comfortingly and she could've sworn her vision blurred as the words left his mouth. When she finally came down she was panting, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Rafe pulled himself away from her slightly, sitting back on his heels. His fingers, which were soaked in her release, lifted up to his mouth, his tongue gliding over them, cleaning them free of her arousal. Y/N blinked up at him her body still trembling with aftershocks and she couldn't help but feel the heat rising in between her legs again at the lewd sight of him in front of her.

Rafe merely smirked his hand sliding up to cup her cheek, pulling her closer to him. Y/N leaned forward, pressing her lips to Rafe's in a kiss. He groaned against her mouth, his hand sliding up to rest on her hip as he deepened the kiss. She could taste herself on him, and some sick part of her couldn't help the twist in the pit of her stomach that she got to have him like this. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and she granted it without hesitation. Their tongues tangled, a sloppy, wet kiss that left no doubt about what they both wanted.

Rafe’s hand moved as the other remained cupping her face, sliding down to grip her hip as he ground himself against her, his hardness pressing insistently into her through his jeans and she gasped into the kiss, the feeling of the rough denim against her making her shudder, her nails digging into his shoulders. His lips moulded with hers like he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t breathe unless he had her right there.

“I need you.” He mumbled against her, “You don’t get it Y/N…” His breath hitched as his hand slipped to her spine, pulling her up against him.

“Fuck- I need you so bad it hurts.”

She pulled back slightly, her breath coming hot and heavy, her eyes searching his. She whispered her voice steady despite the burning heat building up inside her,

“I’m right here”

Without breaking their gaze, she reached down her fingers brushing against the buckle of his belt. Her movements were almost hurried, driven by a need that mirrored Rafe's. She undid the belt the, her hands trembling slightly as the sound of the metal clinking accompanied the sound of their heavy breaths in the silent room. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together to relieve the ache between them but his presence between them stopped her from doing so. His hand came down to help her pushed his jeans down along with his briefs, letting his cock stand tall against his lower stomach, his tip already glistening in his pre-cum.

"Look at what you do to me- can't even fucking think straight with you around me."

His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as he stared at her, his desire laid bare. Her hand wrapped around him, her fingers closing around his hard length and she felt him shudder at her touch. She began to pump him slowly, her grip firm but gentle, her thumb brushing over his sensitive head. Rafe’s eyes fluttered closed, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck. A heavy groan escaped him, his breath hot against her skin as he exhaled through his nose. He mutters, his voice thick with need.

“You’ve ruined me... fuck- you've ruined me for anyone else.”

His voice is rough and hoarse, his gaze locked on her hand moving over his cock and as his hips jerk in her grip. Her other hand slid up his chest tracing the contours of his muscles, her touch light and teasing. She leaned in her lips brushing against his ear before placing a soft kiss right below it, “Good,” she murmured her mouth brushing the edge of his jaw now,

“Because I don’t want you touching anyone else.”

Her words are almost sultry and his eyes roll slightly at the sound of her voice and before he could respond she shifted her weight, pushing him back against the sofa. Rafe’s flutter open at the sudden movement, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across his face as he felt her straddling him, her legs bracketing his hips. He opened his mouth to speak but her lips crashed against his, tongues tangling hungrily as if they were trying to consume each other. Y/N's hands comes up from where they rest steadily on his shoulder to grip his face, mumbling out raggedly,

"Open your mouth"

He silently complies and she leans into him, wantonly taking his tongue into her mouth, her grip firm on his face as her cheeks hollow slightly as she sucks. Rafe let out what sounded like a low growl from his throat, his hands sliding down her back, his touch hungry as his fingers grip her ass before moving to run up and down her waist, pulling her closer. She ground down against him, her hips moving urgently, the friction electric, her core aching with need as she felt his hardness beneath her.

Y/N pulled away, pupils blown wide as her hand came up to wipe her fingers against the smudge of drool which collected by the corner of her lips. Rafe's hand moved to grab her wrist, guiding her spit slickened fingers to his mouth, his tongue swirling around her digits. As he slipped them out his mouth he brought her hand down, wrapping it around his heavy cock once more.

"You gonna give me what I want now hmmm... ?"

He breathed out against her neck, his nose running along her skin before his lips pressed against her, sucking hungrily, promising to leave a mark behind.

"Gonna be a good girl and fuck me Bunny?"

He cooed and Y/N couldn't help but shiver as she nodded to him, raising herself on her knees as Rafe shuffled beneath her, his hand wrapped around himself, slowly guiding his tip between her wet folds. A soft moan passed her lips as he bumped into her clit and her hands came out to steady herself on his shoulders. As he teased her weeping hole her mouth fell open,

"Rafe-"

"I know baby"

She couldn't hold back the loud moan which escaped her lips as she eased herself down onto him, her eyes fluttering shut at the stretch of him. She bottomed out against him, her own arousal dripping down onto his thighs.

"Fuccckk"

Rafe groaned out roughly, head tipping back against the couch momentarily as his hands griped onto her hips harshly to steady himself. "Fuck-", he choked out,

"So fuckin' tight"

He'd thought about this moments for months, every night when he couldn't sleep and his hand would slip under the covers it was her he would think of. And now that she was finally here, in front of him, so hot and wet against him- he had to squeeze his eyes shut and ground himself or else it would be over far too quickly.

As his eyes opened they found Y/N's as she leaned back and began to move, her hips raising slightly before dropping back down onto him. Her hands slid down to rest on his chest as she rocked her hips against him in a rhythm that was addictive.

“Fuck, you feel so good”

He groaned, his voice thick with desire as his lips trailed down her neck. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Y/N moaned, her head falling back as she arched into his touch, her hips continuing to move in a rhythm that was starting to become desperate. She groaned out as she leaned down, her lips hovering over his.

“Tell me how good I feel”

“You feel so fucking good baby”

Rafe’s eyes locked onto hers as he spoke, his hands gripping her ass a little tighter.

“Like you were made for me.”

Y/N whined as she leaned into him, her lips brushing his once more, her body pressing down onto him with increasing urgency. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing accompanied by the wet slapping of skin against skin and their tangled moans.

"So fucking perfect for me"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at his words, her head tilting back as she surrendered to the sensations flooding her senses. Her breasts rose and fell with each movement, nipples brushing against his chest with each rock of her hips- causing her to slip her bottom lip between her teeth biting down at the feeling. "Harder," Rafe spoke out, his voice a command laced with pure and utter desperation,

"Take me harder baby"

She didn't need to be told twice as her hips carnally snapped against his, her moans becoming unrestraint as she chased after that pleasurable peak building within her. Rafe's hands dragging over her skin as he met her thrusts, his hips bucking upwards and his hand slipping down to rub tight circles on her pulsing clit. He couldn't help himself as he looked down, watching his cock disappear in and out of her, a white ring of her arousal forming at the base of him causing him to feel completely intoxicated. Y/N's nails frantically dug into his shoulders- sure to leave marks that would serve as a reminder tomorrow.

As her cries of Rafe's name became whiner he could tell she was close to the edge of ecstasy, the pace of her rhythmic bouncing in his lap stuttering, which caused his hands to move to her hips, his grip firm as he took control.

“I’ve got you”

He hummed into her ear, his voice steady and reassuring. His hand pressed into the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her movements as he set a rhythm to help ease that tense coil within her which was ready to snap. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling as she rested her hands around the back of his neck. “Oh fuck- Rafe!” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as her climax approached.

“Don’t stop-”

He didn’t, his hands moved with purpose, dragging her up and down his cock his own body tensing with anticipation. “Come for me,” he grunted out, his lips pressing against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

“Let go baby I've got you.”

Y/N’s body slumped into him as her orgasm ripped through her, her forehead falling to rest against Rafe's as her walls clenched around him. He followed moments later, his hips jerking sporadically upward as he thrusted into her, shaking groans of her name passing his parted lips. Their breaths were ragged as they clung to each other, drowning in the pleasure of what had been building for months.

As their breathing slowed down Rafe shifted carefully beneath her, one arm cradling her back as he reclined guiding them both down until he was lying fully against the couch cushions and she was against his chest, her cheek finding its place right over his heart. One of his hands stayed on her bare back, the other reaching lazily toward the end of the couch, fingers snagging the blanket tossed over the armrest behind his head.

With a quiet tug he draped it over them, wrapping their tangled bodies in the soft warmth. The fabric brushed against her shoulders, and she instinctively tucked herself closer. Rafe tilted his head slightly his eyes heavy as he looked down at her his fingers tracing lazy, soothing lines up and down her spine.

“You cold?”

He asked his voice a quiet rasp. Y/N blinked slowly her lashes brushing against his skin as she shifted just enough to murmur,

“No… you’re warm.”

A soft sound left him- something between a hum and a chuckle- and his lips tugged upward in a quiet smile. His hand stilled for a moment, resting flat against her back like he couldn’t bear to not be touching her. “So…” Y/N murmured her voice barely louder than the soft rustle of the blanket shifting with them. Her fingers traced idle shapes along the skin of his chest,

“Does this make me your girl now?”

Rafe’s lips quirked upward in amusement but his answer came without hesitation,

“You were my girl long before this.”

She lifted her head just enough to look at him, searching his face for any sign of teasing- but all she saw was truth. His eyes held no doubt, only certainty and that made her chest swell. Without saying anything else she leaned in and pressed a slow tender kiss to his lips, one that lingered a little longer than necessary. Then she sank back down against him, settling into the now familiar warmth of his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear became like a lullaby to her, eyes fluttering shut with every pass of his hand down her spine and every steady beat in her ear. Her breathing deepened and Rafe just watched her.

“I love you”

He whispered, lips brushing softly over the crown of her head as he spoke. Y/N smiled sleepily, her fingers still making slow, lazy patterns on his chest even as her body melted deeper into rest.

“I love you too Rafe”

And with her nestled against him safe and warm in his arms, Rafe closed his eyes too- vowing to himself he’d never let her go again.

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