sunsetmade

[sunsetmade]

hiiii, sunny

so i have a request, and it may be a little weird, but i'd love to read something with my next idea :')

rafe and reader are going to have sex for the first time. i'd like to see rafe's reaction when he sees for the first time that reader has the dimples of venus?

Dimples of Venus, also known as Venus back dimples, are two small, symmetrical indentations located on the lower back, just above the gluteal cleft.

I hope you can write it, it would mean too much to me since it is one of my biggest insecurities.

Have a nice day, Sunny <3

Hii!! I’m so sorry it took me a while to get to this 🥲 thank you for educating me about these kind of dimples! I literally fell in love with them.

Dimples of Venus

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warning: suggestive content (not fully)

The room was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the shallow, uneven sound of her breathing along with the soft smacks. She was sitting on her bed, legs folded beneath her, when Rafe leaned in and kissed her again. It wasn’t the kind of soft, testing kiss he’d given her the first few times—this one was deeper, hungrier, pulling her straight into his lap as if he couldn’t stand the thought of space between them.

Her knees bracketed his hips, and she melted into the position, fingers clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt while his hands gripped her waist like he was claiming every inch of her. The bed creaked faintly as she shifted, straddling him fully now, her chest pressed against his.

Rafe kissed like a man who’d spent years perfecting it—confident, sure, but not careless. He kissed like he knew exactly what he wanted, and what he wanted was her. His tongue brushed against hers, slow at first, then deeper, and she whimpered quietly at the way he pulled her closer with every movement.

Her hips shifted without her meaning to, and Rafe groaned into her mouth, his fingers tightening on her waist. That little sound of his made her shiver—it was low and raw.

“Jesus, you’re sweet,” he muttered against her lips, voice rough, before pulling her back down for more.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, needing to feel him. Rafe didn’t hesitate; he yanked it over his head and tossed it somewhere across the room, then caught her face in his hands, kissing her harder now.

His tongue lightly dancing with hers, massaging it in a way that made her moan out.

She broke away just for a breath, eyes flicking over his bare chest, and he smirked at her expression.

“You like what you see?” he teased, though there was no arrogance in it—just that crooked, boyish grin he rarely let anyone else see.

Her cheeks warmed, but she nodded, fingertips skimming along the ridges of his shoulders. He leaned forward, kissing down her jaw, nipping gently at the soft skin beneath her ear until she gasped. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging when his mouth moved lower, tracing the line of her throat.

The air felt heavy between them, every touch sparking with heat. His hands slipped beneath her top, palms spreading across her back. She shivered at the contrast of his rough fingertips against her softer skin, and he chuckled quietly, almost like he was proud of how easily she reacted to him.

He broke away from her skin, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers for a moment. “You’re killing me, y’know?”

Her laugh was nervous, shy, but when she shifted on his lap again, the sound turned into another gasp. He groaned, gripping her hips firmly to still her movement.

“Don’t play with me, baby,” Rafe warned softly, though his eyes were burning with something that said he wanted her to.

Her shirt was gone before she realized he’d tugged it off, leaving her in just her bra and shorts. His gaze swept over her like he was memorizing every detail, his lips parting slightly. For a moment he just looked at her, his usual sharpness replaced by something softer, awed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered with wide eyes.

The words sent butterflies spinning through her chest, but before she could respond, he leaned down, kissing across her collarbone, then lower, his hands roaming with more urgency.

When he finally leaned back, fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts, his eyes flicked down—and then stilled. His breath caught. She blinked, suddenly self-conscious, about to tug her shorts back into place, but his hand pressed gently to her hip, stopping her.

“Wait,” Rafe said softly, his voice lower now, almost reverent.

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What?”

His thumb brushed over the small indent at the base of her lower back, just above where the waistband of her shorts sat. He traced it gently, like he was afraid to press too hard. Then he looked up at her, his blue eyes wide with something that wasn’t lust, but something more vulnerable.

“You have…” he paused, swallowing, his thumb still tracing her skin, “dimples. Right here.”

Her face warmed immediately. She’d always been self-conscious about them—their proper name, dimples of Venus, sounded far prettier than she thought they really were. But Rafe simply looked at them like he’d just discovered a secret he wasn’t supposed to know.

“They’re…” He exhaled slowly, almost a laugh, shaking his head. “They’re fucking perfect.”

She blinked at him, stunned by how soft his tone was in contrast to how he’d been moments ago. Rafe Cameron, who carried himself like he was fucking untouchable, was sitting there looking at her like she was the most delicate thing he’d ever seen.

“Rafe,” she whispered, her voice small, a little embarrassed.

But he only leaned forward, kissing her softly—different from before, slower, like he wanted her to feel the sincerity behind it. His hand stayed on her lower back, thumb brushing over that little hollow again as if he couldn’t let go of it.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured against her lips. “And then you’ve got these? I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

Her laugh broke through her nerves, and he smiled against her mouth, the moment charged but now laced with something tender, grounding, before the heat between them could spark again.

Rafe kissed her again, slow at first, savoring the taste of her lips, then deeper, hungrier. The way his hand lingered on her back, thumb brushing over her dimple like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, made her pulse race in a different way than before. He wasn’t just touching her because he wanted her—he was touching her because he was completely, hopelessly obsessed.

That realization only made her heart race faster.

Her hands slid down his chest, palms smoothing over warm, firm muscle. He groaned quietly, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he couldn’t believe she was real. Then, without warning, he flipped them—his weight pressing her down into the mattress, his body caging hers in completely. She gasped at the sudden shift, but her legs parted instinctively, welcoming him in between.

“I love you, you know that right?” Rafe’s voice was rough, right at her ear, his breath hot against her skin. His lips found the curve of her neck, sucking gently, then harder, until she whimpered and fisted the sheets beneath her.

But she couldn’t form an answer, her body only arched against him. The friction making her squirm, and he growled low in his throat. “Fuck, baby, don’t do that unless you want me to lose it.”

“I—” her voice broke on a gasp when his hand slid under her bra, cupping her breast and squeezing her. Her back arched again, pressing into his palm. “Rafe…”

The sound of his name on her lips like that—pleading, breathless—nearly undid him. He kissed her harder, tongue stroking hers as his hand tugged the bra strap down her shoulder, freeing her for him. He leaned back just enough to look at her, to drink in the sight of her flushed cheeks and bare skin.

“All mine,” he said simply, possessive but not harsh. It was a vow, not a threat. Then his mouth was on her chest, sucking, teasing, making her cry out softly beneath him.

His saliva coating her perky nipple while his hand fondled the other. She moaned scratching at his back. He chuckled deeply against her breasts.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling gently, and he groaned against her skin, the sound vibrating straight through her.

When his hand drifted lower, to the button of her shorts, he paused, lifting his head just enough to meet her gaze. His blue eyes were burning, but steady. “Tell me if you don’t want this.”

Her answer was immediate, breathless. “I want it. I want you.”

Taglist: (join here)

@delayeddrabbles @faithlyn444 @lilaccameronsflower @sc05 @mslvena @tudorgirl @yurmom444 @anobbs-blog @love-me-satoru @macbaetwo @tezzzzzzzz @cokewithcameron @carolinaxvz @ivy-34 @mattyskies @emmiesummers @maybankslover @mymelii @urlittlesparklejumpropequeen @lessxoxo @defnotayonna @superlegend216 @koalalafications @sousourulesthegalaxy @bebebambs @lorelai-lilith @tehems @imliterallysocoolfr @mybloggyblogblog145 @ellayahhs @emeloyy @unicornd-ck @starkeyjoseph @lynst91 @simp4f1 @artenwritez @rafedayz @daddyrafeslittleslut @jkrafe @bubonicpuppy @otheliesstuff

[sunsetmade]

hiii sunnyyy how are you? I hope you’re doing good

I’m doing okay, been sick this whole week and just started my period sooooooo…. Yay!

How are you my lovely? 🙂

[sunsetmade]

Hey i was wondering if u have any rules for requesting💝

Hii!! As of right now (I’m sure there’s more I just haven’t thought of) my rules are

I don’t write:

- self harm

- anything suicidal

- sexism or misogyny

- dystopian AU’s

[sunsetmade]

my first request!!! okay what about something based off this tiktok https://www.tiktok.com/@jenmatera/photo/7535190593186581815 where rafe basically does all of that as reader’s bf, including the makeshift vanity, and everyone’s confused bc who is this man😭 that’s not the rafe they know, like not even sofia got to meet him 🙂‍↔️

thank u! <33

The link that you sent didn’t work but I’m pretty sure I found the video!! Here’s the link for everyone reading.

Without a Thought

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Slide #2

“Rafeeee…” she whined dramatically, sprawled across the couch like a discarded doll, her cheek pressed into the throw pillow and one arm dangling off the side.

From the kitchen, where the sound of a knife softly hit the cutting board, Rafe called back, “Yeah, baby?”

She let out a small, exaggerated groan before pushing herself upright, tucking her knees up, and resting her feet on the coffee table. “Can you grab me my slippers, please? My feet are cold.” The last part came out in a tiny whisper, as if admitting it out loud was somehow embarrassing.

There was no answer for a few seconds—only the faint clink of glass and the sound of him moving around. She pictured him smirking to himself, probably taking his time on purpose. When he finally appeared in the doorway, he had her soft brown slippers in one hand and her cup in the other.

“You’re so spoiled,” he said with an amused shake of his head, setting the cup on the table. But instead of just tossing the slippers to her, he crouched down in front of her, slipping each one onto her feet like it was some kind of quiet ritual.

Her face lit up, eyes crinkling as she grinned. “You make me spoiled, Rafe.”

That earned her one of his skeptical faces—half glare, half smirk—but she only shrugged, smug.

He placed a kiss on her ankle and with a sigh that was more playful than annoyed, he handed her the cup. “Here.”

She blinked down at it. “What’s this?”

He didn’t answer right away, just flopped down beside her, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side like he couldn’t stand having space between them. “Raspberry lemonade,” he said, his voice low near her ear. “Made some earlier, f’you.”

Her heart did that little flip it always did when he acted like this—careful, but casual, like spoiling her was just second nature.

Slide #3

The next day, she was tucked into a corner table at a little brunch spot in Figure Eight, sunlight spilling through the wide windows and catching on the rim of her coffee cup. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and espresso, and the low hum of other conversations filled the background.

She sat with three of her friends, half-listening as they dissected their latest gossip over plates of avocado toast and stacks of pancakes. Sammie— one of her friends from high school— had a fork in hand and her eyes wide, leaning slightly forward.

“The caddy was so cute—literally the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I’m thinking about asking him for his number whenever my dad leaves—”

Her voice faded into the background as the faint buzz of her phone pulled her attention away. She reached for it, unlocking the screen with a quick swipe.

Her lock screen lit up, filling the small space between her and the table with a photo of her and Rafe at the beach. They were standing close, forehead to forehead, Rafe pulling an exaggerated goofy face while she was caught mid-laugh—her smile wide and bright in a way she didn’t think she’d ever smiled for anyone else.

The sight made her chest warm, lips curving involuntarily as she lingered on it for just a moment.

Then his name flashed across the screen.

Rafe: Hope you’re having a good lunch, I’ll pick you up when you’re ready.

She bit her lip, smile tugging at her mouth before she could stop it. Even in the middle of a sunny, laughter-filled café, the thought of seeing him made her want to leave right that second. She could picture him now—probably leaning back in one of the kitchen chairs at home, that lazy half-grin on his face. She loved knowing that he would drop everything for her.

Before she could type a reply, her phone lit up again.

Rafe: I ordered those new shorts you wanted btw baby. All the colors you said.

Her brows lifted, heart giving a little flutter. She hadn’t even brought them up again since mentioning them in passing a week ago while scrolling online, and yet—he remembered. And not just remembered, but got them in every color she’d pointed out.

The corner of her mouth lifted into something softer than a smile, her chest tightening in that way it always did when he spoiled her without asking.

Across the table, Sammie narrowed her eyes. “You’re smiling like an idiot. Is that Rafe?”

She ducked her head, thumbing out a quick reply.

Her: You didn’t have to do that.

Rafe: I know.

Rafe: But you wanted them.

She shook her head, warmth spreading through her.

The brunch chatter faded to background noise as she stared at his last message, her foot absentmindedly tapping under the table. A few minutes ago, she’d been content to linger here with her friends, sipping her latte. Now all she could think about was sliding into the passenger seat of his truck, his hand finding her leg over the console like it always did.

Slide #4

It was another quiet, slow afternoon at the little bookstore tucked into the corner of town. Summer had stolen most of the regulars away to vacations, beaches, or anywhere but here, leaving the place hushed except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft music drifting from the radio behind the counter. She didn’t really mind slow days—there was something comforting about being surrounded by shelves of stories—but today, she felt the weight of missing Rafe more than usual.

Her fingers tapped absently against the counter as she hummed along with the tune, chin resting in her hand. That was when the bell above the door chimed, breaking the stillness. She straightened, expecting a customer wandering in, but the moment her eyes lifted, her breath caught.

Rafe stood in the doorway, framed by sunlight, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Her heart melted instantly. The white lilies stood out bright and delicate, accented by a scatter of soft blue blossoms woven through them. He looked slightly sheepish, slightly smug, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on her.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he drawled as he strolled over, his voice warm and lazy in the way that always made her stomach flip.

She let out a soft gasp, lips curling into a pout as she eyed the flowers. “Are these for me?”

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and rough in his chest, before giving a little nod. “Yeah. Thought you’d like some for around here.”

Her smile widened as she reached for them, cradling the bouquet carefully before lifting it to her face. The lilies smelled faintly sweet, fresh and light. “They’re so pretty. Thank you, Ray.”

Before she could say more, he closed the space between them,walking around the counter and wrapping his arms around her. She melted against him instantly, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed faintly with salt air from the beach. His hug was deep and grounding, the kind that pressed her tight against him like he couldn’t get close enough.

“You looked too far away,” he murmured against her hair. “Had to fix that.”

Her throat tightened, emotion bubbling up at the simple words. She hugged him tighter, bouquet pressed against his back as if she never wanted to let go.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to see her face, his thumb brushed her cheek. “You been bored here all day?”

She nodded, bottom lip jutting out just a little again. “Missed you.”

His grin tugged wider, dimples flashing. “Missed you too, baby. You wanna finish your shift or let me steal you early?”

She looked up at him and huffed, “Is that even a question?”

Slide #6

“I have a surprise for you.”

Her heart jumped as soon as she heard his voice, the sound cutting through the quiet of the entryway. She hadn’t even noticed him when she walked inside. Then again, she should’ve expected it—Rafe Cameron was always here, tucked into her world like he had no where better to be.

She turned toward him with narrowed eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “No hello? No ‘how was your day’? Nothing?”

Rafe smirked, the kind of smirk that made her insides melt whether she wanted them to or not. He closed the distance between them in just a few strides and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her body against his with that effortless kind of confidence he carried everywhere. She instantly softened, letting her forehead drop against his chest, breathing him in.

His lips brushed her cheek, warm and feather-light. “How was your day, sweet girl?” he asked this time, his voice lower, softer, meant only for her.

She tilted her chin up until her eyes met his. He looked unfairly good this close—messy hair, sun still clinging to his skin, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who cares about my day?” she teased. “Where’s the surprise?”

Her laugh bubbled out when his smirk deepened, head shaking like she was impossible. “Always impatient,” he muttered with mock disapproval before capturing her hand in his much larger one. “Follow me. Close your eyes. And no peeking, baby—I know you.”

She groaned dramatically but obeyed, lashes fluttering shut as he guided her carefully through the house. His hand never left hers, steady and sure, and she could feel his gaze on her even with her eyes closed. By the change in air and the familiar scent of candles, she guessed they were in her bedroom.

“Baby…” Rafe’s voice was warning, low and amused.

She cracked one eye open anyway and caught the faintest glimpse of him standing in front of her. She giggled, unashamed. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Not even a little bit,” he muttered, chuckling under his breath. Still, he didn’t let go of her. Instead, his hands slid back to her hips, thumbs pressing gentle circles into her sides like he couldn’t stand not to touch her. He leaned down slightly so his forehead nearly brushed hers.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked quietly, like it was something that mattered more than the surprise, more than everything else in the world.

Her breath caught, her heart thudding so hard against her ribs it was almost embarrassing. His voice had no trace of teasing there, and she smiled softly. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

The grin that spread across his face was devastating. He dipped his head, pressing slow kisses along her cheek, trailing down until his lips ghosted over the delicate skin of her neck. She squirmed, giggling as his breath tickled her.

“Good,” he whispered possessively, voice rougher now, “’cause you’re mine.”

“Rafe…” she whined, though there was no bite behind it—just a helpless laugh.

He chuckled against her skin and finally pulled back enough to see her face. His hands tightened on her hips as if he couldn’t quite let go. “Okay, okay,” he relented, though the smirk still lingered. “Open your eyes.”

She blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the soft glow of the bedroom lights. Rafe was still standing directly in front of her, blocking her view with that mischievous smirk tugging at his lips.

“Yay! My surprise is you!” she teased, clapping her hands together with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Rafe rolled his eyes, though the squeeze he gave her hip betrayed the smile he was fighting back. He smirked and stepped to the side at last.

Her gaze immediately followed—and froze.

Her bed wasn’t just her bed anymore. It was covered in color, warmth, and thoughtfulness—an entire spread of gifts waiting just for her.

She gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. Slowly, she moved forward as if in a dream, her eyes wide and sparkling. There, right in the center, sat a bouquet of fresh flowers, white and blush colored roses tied together in soft ribbon. Beside it was a plush pink bunny Jellycat—the exact one she’d lingered on in shop windows for weeks but never bought for herself. Next to it sat a familiar glass bottle of her favorite perfume, the same one she’d been rationing lately because she was almost out.

And then… she noticed the clothes. Laid out neatly, almost reverently, were new pieces she had pointed out during their shopping trip last weekend: the flowy sundress she had spun in front of the mirror, the skirts and shorts she had carefully touched but set back on the rack with a little sigh. Each one folded perfectly, waiting for her.

Her throat tightened. She reached out with trembling fingers, brushing the soft fabric with a tenderness that made her chest ache. Her lip jutted out, quivering as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“Rafe…” Her voice cracked as she finally turned to look at him, her watery gaze meeting his steady blue one. “This is so sweet.”

His smile softened, pride and affection shining in his eyes as he closed the distance between them. Sliding his arms around her waist, he pressed his chest against her back, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. “Just thought I’d do something special for you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with sincerity.

She sniffled, blinking as a tear slipped free, and he instantly felt his heart squeeze. He hated to see her cry, even if they were happy tears. Gently, he turned her in his arms so she faced him fully. One of his hands came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over her damp skin.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, his forehead lowering to hers.

She shook her head stubbornly, more tears spilling despite her best effort. “You’re just… you’re just so good to me,” she whispered back, her voice small but full of feeling.

Before he could answer, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. Their lips met in a kiss that was soft, sweet, and lingering—the kind of kiss that spoke louder than words ever could.

Slide #7

Rafe’s hand rested securely on her lower back, his thumb brushing slow, absent-minded circles against her hip. They stood in a loose circle of friends, the air sticky with the smell of cheap beer and bonfire smoke. Music thumped faintly in the background, laughter spilling across the lawn in bursts.

Kelce was in the middle of telling one of his dramatic stories, voice loud and animated as he recounted how they’d barely escaped the cops the other night. Everyone was hanging on, rolling their eyes or grinning, but she barely registered the words.

She only noticed the way Rafe’s body curved into hers—solid, warm, protective—like even in the middle of a crowd, he needed her close.

He bent down, lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his breath hot enough to make her shiver. “I forgot to ask you earlier,” he murmured, low enough that no one else would catch it, “left or right?”

She turned her head slightly to peer up at him, brows furrowing. “For what?”

His blue eyes flickered with something almost shy, and for once, he looked away, using the hand not holding her to rub at the back of his neck. “I, uh—” he cleared his throat, “I’m making you a vanity in my closet. Since you’re over so much. So… what side do you want?”

Her heart clenched so tightly she thought it might burst. A smile bloomed across her face, soft and fond, and she leaned further into his side like she couldn’t help it. Rafe Cameron, who pretended to be sharp edges and hard walls, was always doing things like this for her—thoughtful, quiet things that proved how much he cared without him ever saying it outright.

“Right,” she said simply, her voice sweet but firm. “I like right.”

His lips curved, satisfied. He dipped his head and pressed a quick kiss to her temple, lingering just long enough for her skin to heat.

“God, get a fucking room already,” Topper groaned from across the circle, dragging out the words in disgust.

Rafe’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. He shot him a glare sharp enough to kill and lifted his middle finger without hesitation. “Top, no need to be jealous, man.” His smirk returned, cocky and deliberate, as he pulled her even closer into his side, tucking her firmly against him.

“Whatever, dude.” Topper snickered, shaking his head as he took a sip of his beer. “At least I haven’t gone soft.”

The jab landed, and Rafe rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I haven’t gone soft.” But even as the words left his mouth, he felt the truth gnawing at him. Maybe he had. Maybe when it came to her, he always would.

She chuckled softly at his reaction, the sound tugging a reluctant smile out of him. Snuggling closer into his chest, she tilted her head so it rested against him, her contentment radiating in waves. His arm tightened around her instinctively, holding her like she was his anchor in the chaos of everything else.

And if that meant he’d “gone soft”—he decided he didn’t really care.

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[sunsetmade]

What about a shy!reader with Bucky?

The Weight of a Smile

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sunny’s Note: I hate my writing in this. I’m so sorry if it’s terrible I was having total writers block.

It started off small—barely noticeable at first. Just little nods across the room or a soft, fleeting smile that was so faint she sometimes wondered if she’d imagined them. Even a quick, almost hesitant wave when they passed in the hallways. And every single time, without a doubt, her stomach would do that ridiculous little flip, like it had a mind of its own.

It was only her second week working with the so-called new and improved Avengers team, and if she was being honest, it wasn’t getting any easier than the first. She’d always been on the quieter side, shy in a way that made socializing at work feel more dangerous and scary than her actual work. Being surrounded by larger-than-life personalities and legends wasn’t just intimidating—it was overwhelming.

But if there was one thing making the adjustment bearable, it was Bucky Barnes. The stoic, steel-eyed super soldier whose life had somehow shifted from decades of darkness to a strange mix of politics, press conferences, and the occasional villain takedown.

She’d heard plenty about him before they’d even met. Agents loved to gossip, and when she’d asked about him, the responses had been…well, less than comforting.

“Mr. Barnes? Oh, good luck with him, sweetie. He’s not a talker.”

“Ha! I’m lucky if I get more than a sharp glare when I do do something right.”

“Ugh, he’s the absolute worst. So rude. Always giving that same judgey look.”

“I don’t even know how the others even put up with him!”

But the more she actually interacted with him, the more she realized those warnings were nothing but exaggerated campfire stories. The man they described—the cold, unapproachable soldier—wasn’t the one she was getting to know.

Her Bucky was different. The Bucky she saw in quiet moments wasn’t made of ice and steel, but of small, deliberate kindnesses and glances that lingered just a little too long.

It all began on her very first day. Valentina was supposed to give her a tour of the Avengers compound—something thorough, something that would help her get her bearings in this massive, intimidating place. Instead, Valentina breezed through it like she was speed-walking through a mall, rattling off room names without so much as slowing down.

“This is the gym. Don’t touch the punching bags unless you’re prepared to have Walker lecture you about technique. Here’s the medical wing. That’s the meeting room. Oh, and this—” she gestured vaguely toward a set of glass doors, “—is the common area.”

By the time they stopped, they were back where they started. Valentina glanced at her phone and sighed dramatically, already half-turned toward the exit.

“Bucky, please be a gentleman and show her around for me, would you? I have somewhere else to be. People always needing me!” she said with an airy laugh that didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.

And then—just like that—she was gone.

Y/n’s eyes shifted toward the only other person in the room.

He was sitting at the kitchen counter, a broad-shouldered figure with his forearms resting casually on the polished surface. The sunlight from the window caught on the sharp planes of his face and the glint of metal where flesh turned into something stronger. His gaze was fixed on her—unblinking, unreadable, like he was still deciding whether she was real or just some strange mirage dropped into his day.

Her breath caught under the weight of it.

Clearing her throat, she tried for a smile, though it wavered.

“U-uh… hi. I’m the new avenger, I guess…” she mumbled, the small laugh that followed doing little to mask her nerves. Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and she found herself staring at the floor, the counter, anywhere but his eyes.

His stare wasn’t just intense—it was the kind of quiet that stripped you bare without a word.

She instantly cursed herself for saying that. The words had sounded awkward even as they tumbled out, and the moment of silence that followed felt like it stretched forever. Her fingers fidgeted at her sides, her mind scrambling for something to smooth it over—anything—but before she could even think of another word, he made a low sound in his throat.

“Bucky,” he said simply, voice steady but deep. “I’ll show you around.”

It wasn’t a question.

With that, he slid his half-finished bowl of cereal to the side and stood. The stool’s legs scraped softly against the floor, and suddenly he seemed so much taller than he had when sitting—broad shoulders, easy strength in the way he moved.

She took a quick step to follow as he started walking, but his strides were long and purposeful, and she had to almost hurry to match his pace. Every time she thought she’d caught up, he’d round a corner and she’d have to take two small, quick steps to keep from falling behind.

“Uh… so… is the compound always this big?” she asked quietly, instantly regretting it because her voice came out too soft, too unsure.

He glanced at her for just a fraction of a second, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly, before answering. “You’ll get used to it.”

They turned into another hallway, the hum of distant voices growing louder until one in particular cut through the air—loud, boisterous, unmistakably Russian.

“Bucky!”

Before she could react, a man came bounding toward them, tall and solid, with a grin that looked like it could light up the whole compound. He clapped Bucky on the shoulder with a force that made her flinch, his other hand already gesturing animatedly.

“And who is this little one?” Alexei’s attention swung to her like a spotlight, and it was too much all at once—the booming voice, the wide smile, the sheer presence of him. Her breath caught, and she instantly looked down feeling her heart start to pick up in speed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear just for something to do.

Bucky’s gaze stayed on her, sharp but unreadable, as she fumbled for words.

“Uh—I… um…” Her voice wavered, every syllable tripping over the next, and she glanced down at the floor like maybe it could offer her an escape. It was clear her nerves were winning.

Before she could dig herself deeper into the awkward silence, Bucky cleared his throat and turned his attention to the Russian.

“We’ll catch you later,” he said, voice clipped but calm. “Gotta give a tour first.”

Alexei grinned and gave an exaggerated wave in her direction, the kind that only made her cheeks burn hotter. She returned it with the smallest, most hesitant lift of her hand before Bucky was already moving, and she fell into step behind him without a word.

Her face still held that warm flush, and now she was quiet—too quiet. Ten minutes passed in silence, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the compound’s long hallways.

Bucky wasn’t sure why it bothered him. Normally, he preferred quiet—hell, he thrived on it. But there was something about her silence that dug under his skin, a gnawing awareness that it wasn’t the kind of quiet she wanted. She wasn’t relaxed; she was folding into herself. And for reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely, he hated seeing that.

He found himself slowing his pace ever so slightly, not enough to make it obvious, but enough so she didn’t have to work so hard to keep up.

“It gets better after a couple of weeks,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “I wasn’t used to it either, at first.”

She glanced over at him, her eyes wide, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. For a moment, the guarded man felt more like someone trying to offer a small comfort than the intimidating super soldier everyone warned her about.

His lips twitched into a faint, almost shy smile. “It’s not as overwhelming as it seems. And…I’m not as scary as people make me out to be.”

He scratched the back of his neck and quickly looked away, a rare flicker of vulnerability that made her smile without hesitation. It was a small, human gesture, but to her, it spoke volumes.

“I did hear some… not so great things about you from the agents,” she admitted with a nervous chuckle, the words tumbling out before she could second-guess herself.

He let out a low huff, the kind of sound that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Well those agents are idiots.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up again, and she couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t going to be as impossible as she’d feared.

The second time it happened was during her very first mission briefing.

She sat at the far end of the long conference table, notebook open and pen poised like she was about to take the most important test of her life. Her leg bounced restlessly beneath the table, the jittery rhythm betraying how much she felt like a nervous kid on the first day of school all over again.

Around the room, the other team members were scattered in their seats, chatting quietly or scrolling through tablets as they waited for the meeting to begin. The two chairs on either side of her were conspicuously empty, and she found herself glancing toward the clock mounted on the wall. Still five minutes to go. She let out a soft sigh, trying to focus on the blank page in front of her instead of the hollow quiet to her left and right.

Then came the squeak of a chair being pulled back.

She looked up, and there he was—Bucky Barnes—sliding into the seat directly beside her. His presence was immediate, solid, the faint scent of soap and cologne clinging to him. His leg settled close enough to hers that if either of them shifted even slightly, they’d touch.

Her lips tugged into an instinctive smile, but she quickly caught herself and shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as if that could hide the flush creeping into her cheeks.

“Morning,” he said, his voice low but carrying just enough warmth to surprise her. The corner of his mouth curved—not quite a full smile, but close.

She glanced at him from the side, her voice quieter than she meant it to be. “Good morning.”

And then, without even trying, her bouncing leg stilled.

Just then, the door swung open and Valentina swept in like she owned the place. She wore a fitted black dress paired with a cropped leather jacket, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her eyes never left her phone, fingers flying across the screen as if the rest of the world barely existed.

“Huh. People,” she said with a dry chuckle, letting out a dramatic sigh as she finally looked up. “Well, welcome to another team meeting, everyone.” Her smile was polished but paper-thin, the kind that never quite reached her eyes.

“I decided to lead this one myself,” she continued, slipping her phone into her jacket pocket, “because of our newbie.” Her gaze landed squarely on Y/N. “Go on—say hi, newbie.”

It was like someone had flipped a switch; every head in the room turned toward her. Heat rose to her cheeks instantly, and she gave a small, awkward wave that she hoped didn’t look as stiff as it felt.

Yelena offered her a warm, reassuring smile, and the knot in her stomach loosened just a fraction. Alexei flashed her a big, toothy grin that made her want to shrink into her chair, his enthusiasm somehow more overwhelming than comforting. Ava and John each gave a polite nod, while Bob leaned forward slightly with a friendly, “Hi there.”

Bucky, however, didn’t move. He didn’t glance her way or acknowledge Valentina’s introduction—his attention stayed fixed on the board at the front of the room.

Oddly enough, she was grateful for that. The last thing she needed was his intense stare in a moment where she already felt like she was under a microscope.

After that, Valentina quickly launched into the agenda, her voice brisk as she clicked through the slides on the screen. Y/N kept her head down, scribbling notes as fast as she could, though she barely registered half of what was being said. The lingering warmth in her cheeks was only just beginning to fade.

She was halfway through writing a bullet point when Valentina’s voice cut through again—this time sharper, directed at her.

“So, newbie, you’re familiar with infiltration protocols, right? I’d hope they covered that in basic.”

Her pen froze mid-word. She swallowed hard, feeling every pair of eyes on her again.

“Uh—yes, ma’am,” she said softly, wishing her voice sounded more confident than it did.

Valentina’s lips curved into a smirk. “Good. I’d hate for us to have to slow things down on the field.”

There was a quiet shift beside her, the subtle scrape of a chair leg against the floor. Bucky leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but edged with steel and his jaw clenched.

“She’ll be fine,” he said, not looking at Valentina but keeping his gaze fixed on the board. “You don’t need to worry about her keeping up.”

The room went still for half a beat.

Valentina arched an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by his interruption, but she only hummed and moved on to the next topic.

She stared down at her notebook, her pen hovering uselessly over the page. She wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed, but the tips of her ears were burning—not from embarrassment this time, but something… warmer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she risked a quick glance at him. His expression was unreadable, jaw set, eyes still on the board. But the faintest twitch of his mouth told her enough.

He’d noticed. And he’d cared.

⸻

“Hey—Bucky, wait up,” she called, her voice a little breathless as she jogged a few steps to catch him in the hallway after the meeting.

He slowed, glancing over his shoulder before coming to a stop. His eyes met hers for just a moment—steady, unreadable—before he turned fully to face her.

“Thanks for… you know… saying that in there,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I never really know what to do in those situations.” A small, nervous chuckle escaped her, but it sounded more like she was trying to fill the silence than anything else.

Bucky gave a short nod and started walking again, his pace unhurried now. There was something different about him—less rigid, less closed-off.

“You did good,” he said simply after a few beats of silence, his voice pitched low so it didn’t carry down the hall.

She smiled faintly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “I didn’t really say anything.”

“Exactly.” The corner of his mouth twitched, almost but not quite a smile. “You didn’t need to. You already know your stuff.”

The words made her cheeks warm, and she quickly looked ahead to hide the reaction. “I just… wanted to say thank you. For being nice to me. I haven’t actually worked on a team before.”

That earned her a quiet chuckle. When they reached his door, he stopped and turned to face her fully, one hand resting on the doorknob.

“No problem, doll,” he said, and the way the word rolled off his tongue made her pulse skip. “I know what it feels like.” His gaze held hers for a fraction longer than was strictly necessary, something steady and unspoken in the look. “You know where I am if you need me.”

He offered her the smallest smile—soft, genuine—and for a moment, the air between them felt warmer, closer.

It wasn’t just an invitation. It felt like a promise.

⸻

It was late—late enough that most of the compound had gone still. And definitely too late to be doing this.

The hum of the ventilation system was the only constant sound, soft and low, while the overhead lights cast a muted glow that left the hallways in a kind of gentle half-dark. The place felt quieter at night, like the world had pulled in on itself.

She stood outside Bucky’s door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, notebook clutched tightly to her chest. On the way here, she’d told herself three separate times to just turn back. It wasn’t important enough to bother him over. It could wait until morning. But somehow, her feet had carried her here anyway, and now her hand hovered in the air, knuckles brushing lightly against the wood in a hesitant knock.

For a few seconds, there was nothing—just the low hum of the air and her own heartbeat in her ears. Then the door opened.

Bucky stood there barefoot in grey sweats and a plain black t-shirt, his hair slightly mussed like he’d been running a hand through it while pacing or thinking. His blue eyes softened almost imperceptibly when they landed on her, the tension in his shoulders easing in a way she doubted he noticed.

“Hey, doll,” he said quietly, like her showing up in his doorway in the middle of the night wasn’t strange at all. “You okay?”

Her stomach flipped at the nickname. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine,” she said quickly, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “I just… I had a question about the mission outline for tomorrow. Some of the codes aren’t labeled, and I didn’t want to mess anything up.” She held up the notebook like it was evidence of her reason for intruding. “I can ask someone else if this is not the right time…”

Bucky leaned his metal shoulder into the doorframe, studying her a moment longer than necessary before shaking his head. His gaze was steady, searching—like he could tell there was more to this than the codes. Finally, he stepped back and gestured inside. “C’mon in.”

The room smelled faintly of vanilla and something warm and woodsy, like cedar. It was neat in a way that spoke more to habit than effort—bed made, desk clear except for a few scattered notes and a mug that still steamed faintly. She perched on the edge of the chair by his desk while he sat across from her, taking the notebook from her hands.

Their fingers brushed—barely—but the contact sent a quiet spark down her arm. She forced herself to focus as he flipped it open.

“This part?” he asked, tapping the page with his forefinger. She nodded. He leaned forward to explain, his voice low and even, each word deliberate.

She tried to follow along, really she did, but her attention kept drifting to the shape of his mouth, the way it curved slightly when he spoke, the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.

When his eyes flicked up mid-sentence, their gazes locked—and the air seemed to still. It wasn’t loud, whatever was happening between them, but it was there, humming just beneath the surface, weighty and unspoken.

She had the dizzy, dangerous thought that if she just leaned forward a fraction, the space between them would vanish.

Bucky’s throat worked as he glanced back down, breaking the moment. “I’ll be with you the whole time,” he murmured, pen tapping once against the page. “You’ve got this.”

She smiled, fingers tightening on the notebook when he handed it back. “Thanks, Bucky.”

He didn’t answer right away, just looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Something in it made her chest feel tight. Then, almost reluctantly, he leaned back in his chair.

“You should get some rest,” he said softly.

She stood, nodding, but her feet lingered by the desk a second longer than they needed to—long enough to feel the pull of his presence, long enough to wonder if he felt it too.

She cleared her throat and reached for the door handle, ready to leave, when his metal hand suddenly caught her wrist. The touch was cool, precise, and electric, sending a small shiver up her arm that made her heart skip a beat.

“Uh… maybe we could discuss the mission more over coffee in the morning?” His flesh hand came up to rub the back of his neck, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks. The gesture was awkward, hesitant, and entirely Bucky, and it made her pulse race even more.

She froze, staring at him, jaw slightly ajar, caught somewhere between disbelief and something warmer—hopeful, fluttering. For a heartbeat, the hallway felt impossibly small, the air thick and humming with the unspoken weight of everything unsaid between them.

Bucky’s eyes flicked away for just a moment, and he muttered under his breath, clearly cursing himself. “Actually… never mind. It’s fine. I… I have training anyway,” he said, his voice low and tinged with embarrassment. His hand fell away from hers, leaving a faint warmth in its wake.

She blinked, then quickly snapped out of her haze, a soft smile spreading across her face. Her voice was gentle, but firm with certainty. “I would love that, Bucky.”

His lips twitched into a small, relieved smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the unspoken understanding hanging between them—quiet, safe, and full of promise.

“Great,” he said finally, voice steadier now. “Coffee it is. Tomorrow morning, then doll.”

She nodded, her heart still fluttering but lighter, and she finally pushed the door open. As she stepped into the hallway, she glanced back once, catching the smile on his face—one that told her he was just as nervous, just as eager, and maybe just as hopeful as she was.

Taglist:( join here)

@lilaccameronsflower @carolinaxvz @love-me-satoru @superlegend216 @lorelai-lilith @ivy-34 @macbaetwo @ellayahhs @emeloyy @daddyrafeslittleslut

[sunsetmade]

I will miss being 🥹 anon here I’m going to cry

Those were some good times anon 🥹 but now there’s a new chapter yayaya!!!

[sunsetmade]

Important!!

Hello again! So I’m not finished with the fic for today… I’m going to try and get it posted by 9 but we’ll see. I am also going to change my posting time to 7:00 pm. 5 is just to early for me to even work on anything.

So sorry for the confusion!! If you have any questions please let me know :)

[sunsetmade]

Could you please do a fic where rafe and the reader dated but recently broke up and the pogues and reader are at the beach and instead of Kiara almost getting run over it’s reader and rafe comes to help reader and yells at Ruthie and rafe and topper get in a fight over reader and it ends with reader and rafe getting back together.

Hi lovely! I’ve already done a fic based on this scene actually where the reader is in Kiara’s place. I hope you enjoy reading! If it’s not what you’re looking for please feel free to request again!

Not Me Anymore

[sunsetmade]

you might already have noticed but I have been interacting a little under your comments. this is your beloved 🥹 anon sunny! I finally have the courage to reveal myself to you

YAYAYYAYA!!! I’m so glad to finally put a blog to a name!! I’m so proud of you anon!!! So kinda crying now hehehe 🥲

[sunsetmade]

congratulations to the one thousand five hundred!

- 🥹 (I might reveal myself soon as a gift tee hee)

OMG WHAT??? I can’t wait to find out 🥲

Thank you for the congratulations!! Love ya 💕

[sunsetmade]

What Happened to Being Friends?

Bsf! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: When a party game pushes them together in a way they have never been before it reveals secret feelings. Maybe a little suggestive content.

Sunny’s Notes: This may or may not definitely be inspired by a To Hot To Handle game I saw. Also let’s pretend I posted a requested fic today ☺️

There were few places she felt truly at ease, and standing in the middle of a crowded, bass-thumping party wasn’t one of them.

But she was here.

For one reason only: Rafe Cameron.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened—when their friendship shifted from casual smiles across driveways to late-night calls, quiet conversations on the Tanneyhill porch, and him tugging her closer in crowds like she belonged by his side.

But now, here they were, at one of those summer-night bashes the Kooks threw like it was a full-time job. The ones where the drinks were always cold, the people too loud, and the secrets hung heavy in the humid Outer Banks air.

And she hadn’t left Rafe’s side once.

Not that he’d let her.

Every time someone tried to pull her away to dance or drag her into conversation, his hand found the small of her back, his arm wrapped around her waist protectively, and his lips brushed her ear with a quiet, “You good, sweet girl?”

And every time, she just nodded, cheeks flushed, heart thudding too hard in her chest.

She didn’t like parties. But she liked Rafe.

Maybe too much.

He was laughing at something Kelce said, his eyes crinkled, that boyish grin tugging at his mouth—the one that never failed to make her stomach flip. His hand still rested on her lower back like it had a permanent place there, thumb tracing lazy circles against her soft tee.

She hadn’t even realized how close they were until someone from the crowd called out over the music, “Yo! Let’s play a game!”

A collective cheer went up. She stiffened instantly, pressing a little closer to Rafe’s side, hoping he’d pretend not to hear it.

But he did.

And he turned to her with that smirk he only gave her—mischievous but warm. “What do you think, baby? Wanna see what stupid game they’re playing?”

She bit her lip, hesitant, but nodded softly kinda in a haze from the pet name. He wrapped an arm around her and led her toward the living room where a large circle was forming.

“Alright, alright,” some girl yelled, already tipsy and giggly. “We’re playing Guess Who Kissed You. It’s just the name of the game. One person gets blindfolded and put in the guest room, and then someone else goes in and kisses them. They get three guesses. If they’re right, the kisser drinks. If they’re wrong, they drink.”

There were more cheers.

She immediately knew she didn’t want to play. Not just because the idea of being kissed blindfolded in a room full of strangers made her want to curl into herself—but because the thought of Rafe kissing someone else in front of her?

She wasn’t sure her heart could take it.

She dropped her gaze, hands fiddling with her shirt, hoping no one would—

“Her!” someone shouted, pointing right at her.

“What?” she gaped, shaking her head, already stepping back. “No, I—”

“Yes! Come on, you’re the quietest one here. It’ll be fun!” someone else said.

“She doesn’t have to—” Rafe started, stepping in front of her, voice hardening slightly.

But she already had giving up and gently tugged his shirt, swallowing. “It’s okay,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.

He turned to her, eyes narrowing. “You sure?”

She nodded, even though her stomach was in knots. She didn’t want to do this. But she didn’t want to be the buzzkill either—and if she didn’t, someone else would… and they’d pick Rafe. And she didn’t think she could sit in this room and hear the sounds of him kissing someone else.

So she let them blindfold her. Let herself be led down the hallway to the guest room and sat gently on the edge of the bed, heart pounding in her chest.

The door shut behind her.

And then she was alone.

The soft thump of the music behind the door was the only sound. Her fingers twisted nervously in her lap, her breaths shallow.

She didn’t know who was coming in. What they’d do. If it would be awkward. If she’d hate it.

If it wouldn’t be Rafe.

God, she hoped it was him.

Not that it could be. He was her best friend. Just her best friend.

Even if he did call her sweet girl like it meant something more.

Even if he looked at her like she was the only person in the world worth noticing.

Even if she was in love with him.

The door creaked open.

Her breath caught.

The soft click of it shutting again made her pulse race.

And then… warmth. A presence. Someone was in front of her, the bed dipping slightly under their weight.

She felt it first—just the faintest graze of his fingertips against her cheek, so careful it was almost hesitant. But then his palm settled, warm and steady, cupping her jaw like it was something delicate he couldn’t risk holding too tight.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t playful, wasn’t the fleeting brush she’d braced herself for. No teasing smirk in the shape of it. No rush.

It was slow, deliberate—deep in a way that made her pulse falter. The kind of kiss that felt like it carried weight. Like whoever he was… meant it.

Another hand came up to the back of her neck, fingers sliding into her hair, the slightest tug making her shiver. She let out a sound before she could stop herself—a tiny, broken sigh that told on her completely.

And she kissed him back.

Not because she decided to. Not because she thought about it.

Because she couldn’t not. Because it felt like she already knew him, like she’d been waiting for this without even realizing it.

He tasted of spearmint over something faintly bitter—beer, maybe—and underneath it all was that scent. Warm and grounding, sandalwood threaded with clean laundry, so achingly familiar it made her chest ache.

Her hands, almost without permission, slid up to his shoulders. She gripped at him, tugging him closer, and he didn’t resist—he moved with her, his body angling in, his chest a solid, steady wall against hers.

The kiss slowed, just for a breath, then deepened again, his tongue fighting with hers while their lips molding like he was memorizing the shape. And then—he broke away. Not far, not nearly enough. His mouth trailed across her cheek, brushing against the curve of her jaw, then lower, his breath fanning warm against the sensitive skin of her neck.

That’s when she caught it again—stronger this time.

His cologne.

Her breath hitched. Her fingers curled tighter into his shirt.

“…Rafe?” she whispered, the word breaking in the middle, disbelief and something softer threading through it.

He chuckled—low, deep, and far too close to her ear. She felt the sound before she even heard it. His lips ghosted over her skin again, dangerously close to her pulse, before he murmured, voice rough with fondness, “Hey, sweet girl.”

The blindfold suddenly felt too tight, pressing against her temples like it knew her pulse was racing. Her heart pounded so violently she swore he could feel it just from how close he was, each thud echoing in the small space between them.

“W-Why…?” The question barely made it past her lips—fragile, unsteady—before it dissolved entirely as he kissed her again.

This time it was different. Not the heady rush of before, but something softer. Slower. A kiss that lingered, shaping itself around her like an unspoken answer.

When he broke away, his breath brushed warm across her mouth. “I wasn’t gonna let anyone else touch you,” he murmured, the words low and certain, like they’d been sitting on his tongue for a while.

Her breath caught, sharp and shallow. Her fingers tightened instinctively in the fabric of his shirt, holding on like she wasn’t quite ready to let him go. He eased back only far enough to reach up and loosen the knot at the back of her head, his touch careful, almost reverent, as he slipped the blindfold away.

She blinked against the sudden light—dim, but enough to make her eyes adjust slowly. The room was painted in soft, golden tones from the lamp on the nightstand, shadows stretching along the walls. And there he was.

Sitting beside her on the bed. Close enough that their knees brushed. Blue eyes locked on hers, unflinching. A faint pink flush warmed his cheeks, but it was his expression that made her breath falter—open, unguarded, and completely unlike the mask he usually wore.

“You…” Her voice wavered. “You kissed me.”

His smile was small, almost shy, but it carried something else too—something sure. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

She stared, lips parting as if to speak, but the words tangled. “But… why didn’t you—”

“I didn’t think you were ready,” he cut in gently, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a heartbeat longer than they needed to. “And I didn’t wanna mess things up. You’re… different.” His gaze softened, but there was a shadow behind it. “You’re good. And I’m not.”

“Rafe…” she whispered, the syllable trembling on her lips as she shook her head.

His gaze didn’t waver. “You’ve always stayed close to me,” he said quietly, like it was a truth he’d been carrying for a long time. “Even when no one else did. Shit, even when I didn’t deserve it. You… you see the good in people—even in me.”

Her chest tightened, that ache in her heart twisting deeper.

“You make me want to be better,” he admitted, his voice cracking just enough to betray how much it cost him to say it. “And I didn’t want to risk scaring you off.”

Something in her softened even more. She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his, holding onto him. Her eyes were wide, shimmering in the dim light. “You could never scare me off.”

A slow, shaky breath escaped him—relief, heavy and unguarded. Then he tugged her into his lap with a suddenness that made her gasp, his arms winding tightly around her waist like he wasn’t ready to let go anytime soon.

For a long moment, she just stayed there, curled against him. Her face pressed into the warm curve of his neck, and there it was again—his scent. It wrapped around her, steadying her heartbeat, grounding her in a way that nothing else could.

When she finally leaned back, his eyes searched hers briefly before he began pressing slow, unhurried kisses—first to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her lips. This time, the kiss was softer, lingering, with a faint smile ghosting against her mouth.

“You smell really good,” she mumbled into the space between them, heat creeping into her cheeks.

His mouth curved into a smirk. “Yeah?”

She nodded shyly. “Like… safe.”

Something shifted in his expression, his blue eyes darkening but softening at the same time. “You’re safe with me, sweet girl. Always.”

They didn’t leave the guest room for a long while after that. And when they finally did, her hand was still tucked in his, her fingers curled tight around his. He walked out wearing a proud, almost cocky smirk—the kind that had his friends raising their brows in silent question.

He didn’t care.

And when she leaned into his side, his arm slid around her without hesitation.

Because now, it wasn’t just protection.

It was possession.

And she was his. Just as much as he was hers.

Taglist: (join here)

@delayeddrabbles @faithlyn444 @lilaccameronsflower @sc05 @mslvena @tudorgirl @yurmom444 @anobbs-blog @love-me-satoru @macbaetwo @tezzzzzzzz @cokewithcameron @carolinaxvz @ivy-34 @mattyskies @emmiesummers @maybankslover @mymelii @urlittlesparklejumpropequeen @lessxoxo @defnotayonna @superlegend216 @koalalafications @sousourulesthegalaxy @bebebambs @lorelai-lilith @tehems @imliterallysocoolfr @mybloggyblogblog145 @ellayahhs @emeloyy @unicornd-ck @starkeyjoseph @lynst91 @simp4f1 @artenwritez @rafedayz @daddyrafeslittleslut @jkrafe

[sunsetmade]

I have been gone and I see you getting negativity? pls don’t let them get to you sun. I have lost so much favorite writers driven away by negativity((

- 🥹

I haven’t gotten any hate after that message so hopefully that keeps them away lol :)

Im still here don’t worry 😉

[sunsetmade]

I’M BACK AGAIN AFTER TWO HELLISH DAYS SUNNYYY

- 🥹 (I missed you)

HEYEYYEE!!! Welcome back anon! Oh how much I’ve missed you!

[sunsetmade]

Yeah so not only was my first day literally so bad but my period is starting soon so now I’m just super emotional. 🥲

Brb going to go cry…

[sunsetmade]

just wondering if my alt reader request ever got submitted 👉🏼👈🏼

I’m not seeing anything similar to that in my inbox! Super sorry, I hope you haven’t been waiting to long :(

[sunsetmade]

i have a request for when you open them again!! you don’t have to write it now, but i was wondering if you could write something with like rafe and reader getting into a fight at a party for a stupid reason and reader decides to leave the party alone without telling rafe and somebody follows her and she doesn’t know if she should call rafe because they’ve fought and sje thinks he’s mad at her but she calls him and the person tries to touch her and all but before he could do anything bad rafe is already there and beating his ass and comforting his girl. i’m so sorry i don’t mean to disturb you or something but i just didn’t want to forget!!

Sorry it took me so long!!

Run to You

Rafe Cameron x Reader

The music was too loud. The bass thumped throughout the floorboards, rattling the cheap beer bottles littering the coffee table. Laughter and chatter spilled from the kitchen and back porch, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and barbecue smoke.

She was sitting on the couch, knees tucked under her, half listening to the conversation happening beside her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like parties—well, maybe it was—but she’d come because Rafe wanted her to. Rafe, who at that moment was standing across the room, animatedly talking to a couple of his friends with a beer in hand.

It started over something so small, she almost didn’t realize it was an argument until his jaw tightened and his tone shifted.

“You didn’t have to roll your eyes at me in front of everyone,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes once he brought her a drink.

She’d blinked. “What?—Rafe, I wasn’t even—”

“Yeah, you were,” he cut in, his voice low enough not to draw attention but sharp enough to make her chest tighten. “You’ve been quiet and… I don’t know. Weird all night.”

“Because I don’t like parties,” she reminded him, soft but frustrated. “I came for you.”

He huffed out a short laugh that didn’t match his expression. “Right. And I asked you to just hang out and not look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

The words stung more than she wanted to admit. “Sorry for ruining your fun.”

“That’s not what I—” he tried but she was already walking away, swallowing the lump in her throat before anyone could notice.

She didn’t just head for the door right away. Instead she lingered by the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge just so she had something to do with her hands. People brushed past her, laughing, music from the speakers making her ears ring.

Rafe was still across the room, back turned to her now, talking to the same two guys. She half-hoped he’d glance over at her, but he didn’t look up.

Fine. Whatever.

She finished half the soda before slipping out the front door, the cool night air hitting her face like a relief. The noise dulled instantly, replaced by the chirp of crickets and the occasional rumble of a car passing down the street.

Her car was parked a block away, but the street was quiet, and she didn’t look back. She wasn’t planning to leave him there for good—just… get some air and clear her head.

But by the time she slid behind the wheel, her hands were still trembling.

She turned the key in the ignition, the dashboard flickering to life—along with the soft orange glow of the fuel warning light.

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath.

The nearest gas station was only five minutes away. It would give her something to do. So she drove in silence, trying not to replay the argument in her head, but every sentence felt heavier the more she thought about it. Maybe she had looked annoyed. Maybe he was embarrassed.

Still, she wished he hadn’t said it like that.

⸻

The fluorescent glow of the pumps came into view, a lonely little station sitting on the corner of an otherwise empty stretch of road. There was one other car parked at the far end, its driver nowhere in sight.

She pulled up to the closest pump, killed the engine, and stepped out. The air was warm, the pavement radiating leftover heat from the day. She swiped her card, hit the regular option, and slid the nozzle into the tank, the smell of gasoline sharp in the air.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. For a second, she thought maybe it was Rafe. Her heart raced when she reached for it but when she checked, it was just a random group text.

She sighed sliding her phone away when she heard it—

“Hey there.”

She froze, then glanced over her shoulder.

A man she didn’t recognize—mid-thirties maybe, with a baseball cap pulled low—was standing at the pump next to hers. He wasn’t pumping gas. He was just… watching her.

“Uh… hi,” she said quietly, turning back to her car.

“You out here all by yourself?” His tone was casual enough, but the way his eyes lingered made her stomach tighten.

She forced a polite smile. “Just getting gas.”

He stepped closer. Not much, but enough that she noticed. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out here this late. Dangerous world.”

Her grip tightened on the pump handle. “I’m fine.”

The pump clicked off, startling her. She replaced the nozzle quickly, swiping her clean hands on her skirt nervously before opening her car door.

“You got somewhere to be?” he asked, leaning slightly to peer into the passenger seat. “Or maybe I could keep you company.”

She slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, locking it immediately. But before she could start the car, he stepped in front of her hood, blocking her path.

Her pulse spiked. No more waiting. She grabbed her phone quickly, her thumb hovering over Rafe’s name.

He might still be mad. He might think she was overreacting. Maybe that she was being silly.

But she didn’t care anymore.

Not when he was looking at her like that.

The second the call connected, his voice rushed through the speaker—fast, breathless, and softer than she expected.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Rafe blurted, the words tumbling over each other like he’d been holding them in for hours. “I was an ass back there, I—”

“Uh—” she started, her voice catching. Her gaze stayed locked on the man still standing a few feet from her car, his shadow stretching long in the dim glow of the gas station lights. He hadn’t moved, just stared, like he was waiting for her to roll down the window.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” Rafe’s tone snapped from contrition to razor-sharp in an instant, the warmth draining completely.

She swallowed, barely able to keep her voice steady. “Just—there’s this guy,” she whispered, her hand tightening around the phone. “He’s standing right in front of me. I don’t like it.”

A beat of silence. Then Rafe spoke, low and dangerous, the kind of voice that made her heart lurch for a different reason entirely. “Where are you?”

She told him the name of the station without even thinking, each word tumbling out in a rush.

“Stay in the car,” he ordered, no room for argument. “Don’t open the door for anyone. I’m on my way.”

The line went dead. And for the first time since she’d seen the man’s shadow, she felt like she could breathe—just a little.

Well not really. He was a really creepy looking guy.

The man was still grinning at her through the windshield, mouthing something she couldn’t hear. Every muscle in her body was tense, her fingers tight on the steering wheel. It couldn’t have been more than four minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the familiar roar of Rafe’s truck cut through the night.

He pulled up so fast the tires squealed, barely throwing it into park before he was out of the cab and stalking toward the man.

“Back up,” Rafe barked, shoving him hard in the chest.

The guy stumbled back and laughed like it was some kind of misunderstanding. “Relax, man—”

Rafe didn’t let him finish. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw, the crack loud and sharp in the still air.

“You think it’s funny to mess with her?” Rafe snarled, shoving him again. The man groaned and walked back, hands up now, muttering something about not wanting trouble.

“Get the hell out of here,” Rafe growled, pointing toward the street. “If I ever see you near her again—”

The man didn’t wait to hear the rest. He backed away, disappearing at the edge of the lot with a bloody— most likely broken— nose.

Rafe turned immediately, crossing to her car and pulling open the door.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, eyes scanning her face like he needed to make sure.

She nodded, but her throat was tight, tears pricking at her eyes. “I didn’t know if I should call. I thought you were still mad.”

His expression cracked, guilt flooding his features. “Mad at you? Baby, I don’t care about some stupid party fight. I just care about you. I want you to be safe.” He whispered dragging his finger under her chin.

She swallowed hard, and then he was pulling her out of the car and into his arms, holding her so tight she could feel his heartbeat pounding against her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m so sorry you were scared. I should’ve been there.”

“You’re here now,” she said softly, clinging to him.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You call me. Every time. No matter what we’re fighting about. Got it?”

She nodded, her chest warming at the fierce sincerity in his voice.

He kissed her then—gentle, lingering—like he needed her to know without words that she was his first priority.

“Come on,” he said quietly, keeping an arm around her as he led her to his truck. “You’re coming with me. We’ll leave your car here for now.”

She didn’t argue. And when they pulled away, his hand stayed on hers the whole drive, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in silent reassurance.

By the time they got back to his place, the adrenaline had faded, leaving only exhaustion. He guided her inside, letting her take his bed while he grabbed her a glass of water.

When he came back, he sat beside her, leaning down so their foreheads touched.

“I love you,” he said simply, the words almost a vow.

Her lips curved faintly. “Even when I ruin parties?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You don’t ruin them, I do.”

And with his arm wrapped protectively around her, she finally felt safe enough to sleep.

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[sunsetmade]

Schedule Change!

As I have mentioned, I am starting school so my posting time during the week will now become 5:00 pm. On weekends I will continue to post at 12:50 so I still have some regularity.

So stay tuned for today’s 5:00 pm fic 💕

Also thank you guys so much for 1,500 followers!!! I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to make a celebration, I’ve just been so busy with requests. But don’t worry I will make one eventually!