#for my shy reader 💐 anonnn!!!!

[erwinsvow]

❀˖° part four of rafe and shy reader ❀˖°

rafe likes to tell you what to do, and you like to listen.

it’s been this way since the two of you started dating, ever since he finally got you to stop worrying about what everyone says and thinks. it wasn’t easy but he thinks he’s got you in a good place—you’ve always been compliant and you take rafe’s word like it’s the law, but more than that, he thinks you like it. he knows you like it.

you’re perched on his bed, legs draped over rafe’s while you lean against his pillows. you’ve been at tannyhill for the last two or three days—you’ve lost track—because rafe told you to sleepover, that no one at his house would mind and your parents would think you’re just with friends. it’d taken a little bit convincing, but you’d agreed in the end, spending your days and nights in rafe’s clothes and cherishing how your pink toothbrush looked next to his blue one. 

“they’re going to the beach tonight,” you comment, scrolling through the text messages from your friends who haven’t see you in what feels like forever. “should we go? i think it’ll be fun.”

“i got work to do, kid.” rafe doesn’t even look up from his screen..

“how about just for a little? we can just say hi-”

“i said no already.” you turn away a little, withdrawing into yourself. you wouldn’t have asked if you thought it would make him mad.

the minutes pass by, and it’s not until he finishes whatever’s on his screen that he looks up to see your sulky face buried in your book, phone tossed aside, that he realizes he did something wrong.

he thinks maybe he shouldn’t have shot you down so quickly—it’d taken a while for you to even gain the nerve to ask him things like that, instead of just staying silent until he poked and prodded it out of you. 

“hey. hey.” rafe says, hand squeezing around your waist. you lower your book to look at him, and he catches a glimpse of watery eyes before you lift the book back up. he grabs it from your hand before you can react, holding your wrists in place as the book gets cast away to the floor. “didn’t mean it like that. m’just busy today, that’s all. how about we get something sweet after dinner? keep you occupied until i finish.”

you eye him suspiciously for a second, before softening up. 

“okay,” you agree hesitantly. he reaches over you to grab your book from the floor, placing it on your lap.“you made me lose my page, rafe!”

you’re funny, rafe thinks, how you seem more upset about the book than his earlier words.

the next few times it resolves itself—he tries to be gentler with his words, but even when he’s not, you’re starting to understand he doesn’t always mean what he says. at least, he thought you were.

that morning, he’d left you in his bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you tried to grab his hand and make him stay. you were half-asleep, and you probably didn’t even hear him say goodbye. at least he thought you didn’t.

rafe didn’t mean to spend so long at barry’s, the time just got away from him in the afternoon. and then topper blew up his phone with some crap, kelce told him to bring some product from barry’s to the houseparty that evening. in the haze, your message asking where he was got ignored.

rafe walks into his bedroom at quarter past midnight. he thinks he should call you, but he’s sure you’re asleep by now. that’s why he’s surprised to see you waiting on his bed, flipping through your book.

“jesus, kid-” he stops in place, taking you in. you look like you always do, wearing his shirt and playing with your hair, looking up at him with big eyes. “what’re you still doin’ up?”

“you told me to wait for you.” you set your book aside, hands folding in your lap. your eyes get watery, but you try to hide it, looking away and blinking fast.

“no, i didn’t. thought you’d be back home tonight.”

“this morning, you said to wait for you until you came back. remember?” he runs a hand through his hand, trying to recall. rafe crouches down to where your legs are hanging off the bed, holding your knees.

“i didn’t mean it like that, baby. you were asleep. didn’t think you heard me.”

“but i did.” you start crying, and you’re so mad at yourself—you always start crying around rafe. you hate it. you move to wipe away the tears but rafe beats you to it.

“okay, okay. m’sorry. m’here now, alright?”

“but it’s not okay-” your voice cracks in a sob.

“what’s not okay?” rafe is just confused—normally you’re much more compliant once you’re reassured he’s not upset with you. 

“y-you didn’t even reply to my text all day.” 

“i didn’t see it, kid. why didn’t you call me?”

“i didn’t wanna b-bother you.” you start weeping, tears collecting on the shirt of his that you’re wearing.

“well, just bother me. i’ll always answer you.”

“is this a g-game to you?” you question, standing and suddenly feeling defensive and hopelessly upset. you don’t know where you find the confidence to ask a question like that, you just feel like everything’s crashing down around you.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“did you just-just wanna see if i’ll do whatever you say? because i-i don’t deserve that, i deserve something real-” rafe moves quickly, holding your face in his hands, not tightly, just firmly

“this is fuckin’ real. you think i apologize to fuckin’ anybody?” you shake your head.

“i’m scared, rafe.” it comes out softly, a whisper in his quiet room. “i’ve been yours since you drove me home that day.”

“kid, i’ve been yours since i first laid eyes on you.” you melt, resting your head against his chest, getting the rest of your tears out while he holds your shaky body. “and if you’re scared, fuckin’ tell me first.”

“okay…i will. sor-” he grips your cheeks tight, stopping your words.

“i told you to stop apologizin’.” you nod. “now get into bed. it’s too fuckin’ late for you to be up.”