Rafe Cameron Imagines//Oneshots

Too Much ⚠️

Summary = Y/n is angry at her boyfriend Rafe for being overprotective and crossing the line with her male friends. 

The door slams shut behind you with a heavy thud that seems to echo through the entire room, rattling everything in its path—just like the storm brewing between you two.

You whirl around, already fuming, and Rafe is right there, jaw tight, blue eyes blazing, fists clenched at his sides like he's trying not to put them through the wall. 

His presence is a pressure you can feel everywhere, sucking the air out of the space between you.

"You gonna tell me what the hell that was back there?" you snap, voice sharp with frustration.

Rafe steps forward, just close enough to make you feel caged but not close enough to touch. His chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, and the way his hands flex at his sides tells you exactly how hard he's holding himself back.

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Rafe growls, voice low and dangerous.

Only half an hour ago you were all hanging out happily and peacefully at the beach on the hot summers day, yet one wrong move when you hugged one of your long known friends who happend to be male. 

You knew alone form the way rafe kept his eyes on him the entire time it wouldn't end well but you didn't thin the would actually threaten the guy. 

You throw your hands in the air. "Are you kidding me? Again? We've been over this—he's my friend, Rafe! He's not doing anything!"

"That's bullshit, and you know it." His voice is sharp, and you feel the sting of it like a slap. "He was all over you tonight. Touching you, talking to you like—"

"Like what? Like someone who cares?" you cut him off, frustration bubbling over. "You can't keep doing this, Rafe. You can't freak out every time a guy so much as breathes near me!"

Rafe's expression darkens, a storm gathering behind his eyes. "I see the way they look at you. I know what they're thinking—"

"And what? You think I'm just going to fall for them even if they are thinking that way? That I'm too stupid to see through it?" Your voice rises, shaking now, but you don't care. You're too far gone, too angry to hold it in. "I can't live like this, Rafe! I can't have you watching my every move, acting like I belong to you—"

"You do belong to me!" His words explode out of him, raw and jagged, like they've been building for too long to hold back. 

The room feels heavy with the weight of them as he realises what he's said.

Your heart stutters in your chest, caught off guard by the force of his confession. He looks at you like he regrets saying it, but it's too late. 

The words are out now, hanging between you like a live wire, sparking and dangerous.

You shake your head slowly, tears burning at the edges of your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. "I'm not some possession, Rafe," you whisper, voice cracking under the weight of everything you're holding back. "I'm not yours to control."

Rafe runs a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. "That's not what I—" He breaks off, pacing a few steps away, like he can't stand still, like staying still means losing the fight. "I just—damn it, Y/n, I don't trust them."

"And you don't trust me either," you fire back, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut. "That's what this really is, isn't it?"

He turns back to you, eyes filled with a mix of anger, guilt, and something you can't quite place—something that looks a lot like fear.

"It's not that simple," he mutters, but it sounds like an excuse, and you've heard too many of those before.

"Yes, it is," you say quietly, the fight draining out of you all at once. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling small despite the warm weather chills rush down your spine at a realisation of how he's starting to act with you, like the walls are closing in on you. "You don't get to choose who I talk to. You don't get to decide who I'm friends with."

Rafe steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his hands itching to grab you, to pull you in and make you forget everything that's come between you. 

But he doesn't.

 He just stares at you, his expression somewhere between desperate and furious.

"I don't want to lose you," he says, voice low and rough, like it costs him something to admit it.

Your heart aches at the sound of it, but you can't let yourself soften. Not now. "You're going to if you keep this up," you whisper, voice trembling. "I need you to trust me."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence between you is deafening, filled with everything you want to say and everything you can't.

Finally, Rafe swears under his breath, turning away and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes like he's trying to keep it together. When he looks back at you, there's a crack in his armor—something raw and vulnerable that you rarely get to see.

"I just... I don't know how to not protect you," he admits, voice barely above a whisper. "I see those guys, and all I can think about is what they'll do to you if I'm not there to stop it."

The weight of his words settles over you, heavy and suffocating. He means well—you know that. But his idea of protection feels more like a cage, and you can't breathe in it.

"I don't need saving, Rafe," you say softly, the words gentle but firm.

He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to decide if he can do that—if he can let go of the control he's held so tightly for so long.

And you can see it in his eyes, the fear of losing you battling with his need to hold on. It tears at him, splits him down the middle, and you're not sure which side will win.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, almost broken. "I'm trying, Y/n. Fuck I swear, I'm trying."

You want to believe him. 

God, you want to believe him so badly. But trust isn't something you can beg for—it's something he has to give willingly. And you're not sure he's ready to let go of that control just yet.

The tension between you lingers, heavy and unresolved, like the calm before another storm. You take a step back, putting some space between you, and Rafe's eyes darken with something that looks like regret.

Rafe watches you, silent and still, as if he's afraid that any move he makes will push you further away.

And maybe it will.

Because right now, you're standing on opposite sides of a line that feels impossible to cross. And neither of you knows how to fix it.

A/n = guys ik this is angst but after watching season four like rafe is so calm especially with Sofia i feel like he's not actually that bad yk, idk if I'm just being delusional though lmao