Touch Starved Rafe Getting The Hug Hes So Desperately Needed All His Life

touch starved rafe getting the hug he’s so desperately needed all his life <3 a rafe cameron x reader blurb <3 inspired by this bot by the one and only @pearlzier ! <3 cw: minimal swearing, mentions of blood, rafe being anxious, hurt/comfort, intentional use of lower case

“oh man…” rafe breathes out, his steps unstable with blood covering his hands and tear stains on his face as he practically stumbles inside your room.

“I’m… I’m so fucked man… so so fucked…” he mumbles, his words rushed and frantic. you rush to your feet after getting up from the bed, watching how he nervously paces in your room, his fingers slipping into his curtain bangs and pulling on the roots aggressively.

“somethin’s… somethin’s seriously wrong with me and…” he hiccups, his gaze fixed on the floor of your room as he continues to pace, and you watch him with bated breath, your hand gripping on the edge of your bed to keep yourself supported as you watched him with wide, nervous eyes, “and I don’t know what to fuckin’ do…”

you let out a shaky breath, a breath only audible to your ears as you continue to watch his nervous pacing. in your time of knowing rafe, you’ve never seen him so… fidget-y. you can see how he keeps on reaching for his nails to chew on them, his other hand nervously rolling a certain patch of the hem of his shirt over and over again between his index finger and his thumb.

almost suddenly, he quits with the pacing. he stands there still in the middle of your room, his back towards you. he quits with the fidgeting too, his both hands now resting on his sides, the blood on his knuckles now starting to dry up, and you can see how subtly he is flexing his fingers.

a moment of silence passes over you two. you take in a deep breath and it lodges in your throat as you start to take small, silent steps to him. you stand behind him, so close that with a soft nudge to the back of your head, your nose will press into his back. slowly, you bring your hand up, and as if he’s the most delicate porcelain doll on this planet, you place your hand on his back.

his back immediately flexes, and you hear him take a sharp intake of breath. your hand doesn’t move, your fingertips just gently pressing into the cotton of his shirt. a moment passes over you two in complete silence, and when rafe doesn’t say anything to you, you take it as a small sign and press your fingers firmer into his back.

you start to softly glide your fingertips over his back in an up and down periodic motion, and you hear rafe letting out a strangled exhale. your eyes flicker over his shoulders and you see them relax ever so subtly, the tense posture of them slowly withering away.

you continue with the soft motions of your fingers and rest your forehead against his shoulder blade, taking in a deep breath. your other hand curls around his fingers and you ever so carefully intertwine your fingers with his, not caring if any blood from his hand gets onto yours.

“rafe…” you whisper into the still air of your room. your voice reverberates in rafe’s ears, and he lets out a soft hum.

“turn around please…” you murmur, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. he obliges, slowly turning around and you lift your head up from his shoulder blade. he looks in your eyes through his own bloodshot ones, and at that moment you know you’ve never seen anything more heartbreaking than tears in rafe’s eyes.

you hook your arms around his neck and pull him into a warm embrace. for the first few seconds, rafe is stiff. really stiff. it’s almost like he doesn’t know what to do. but you know you’re supposed to give it time. you gave it time and he was okay with you softly rubbing his back, he’s going to be okay with this too.

and okay he is.

his arms wrap around your waist and his face buries into your neck. his grip tightens, as if he’s afraid he’ll let go and you will disappear into thin air. he lets out deep, shaky exhales against the skin of your neck, as if trying so desperately hard to keep himself in control.

“i’m here for you…” you whisper softly, your fingers playing gently with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

those words… those simple words seem to set off something in him nothing ever has.

tears start streaming down his eyes, and this time, he doesn’t let them restrict in any way possible. he lets the tears fall, years and years of anxiety, the pain of not being enough, the tiredness of working too hard to prove himself all falling down to this exact moment; the moment where he lets his walls crumble down.

sobs erupt out from his dry throat and he slowly slides down on his knees in front of you, his arms wrapped tightly around your hips as he nuzzles his face into your stomach, crying his eyes out into the fabric of your shirt.

you feel your heart ache at the sight, him hanging onto you so desperately, and you try to comfort him by threading your fingers through the silky strands of his hair.

it’s as if you can see the remains of his crumbled walls around his knees. you can see how he’s completely let himself go, how he’s letting his most vulnerable state come out, how he’s trusting you deeply.

now it’s up to you and only you to help him clear the rubble of the old walls and build new ones, ones which allow him to trust and be trusted, ones which allow him to love and be loved, ones which allow him to appreciate and be appreciated.

— —

I’m trying my hardest to get back into a proper writing flow, so for now, I hope you enjoy this blurb <3 this is something I’ve been wanting to write for quite some time 💗

You were watching Daryl across the fire, enjoying the fish the two of you had caught only a couple hours before. You felt something bursting up within you. Night had fallen and with it your level of anxiety rose. Past happenings surged forward in your mind. The darkness seemed to move closer.

“Hmm?” Daryl hummed, noticing perhaps a shadow coming over your features.

You licked your lips and paused thoughtfully. “I was just thinking… how is it you’re never scared?”

Daryl gulped and shook his head. “Who says I ain’t?”

You considered this for a moment. “But you always seem so fearless.”

“Seem and are are two different things,” he drawled. “I ain’t fearless. But ’m more afraid of somethin’ bad happenin’ to—to somebody I care ‘bout,” he said, catching himself before he’d simply said “you.”

Prompt: “How is it you’re never scared?”

when rafe lets reader go on aux and she plays lana. him humming to beat omgggg. i need him in my bones

omg !! im imagining this with that one part of west coast.. but left it vague so you can imagine your fave lana song ♡

rafe was in a good mood. it wasn't anything new—he was always in a good mood around you anyways—but today it seemed even better. you were sat in the passenger seat of his truck, waiting patiently for rafe to drive the two of you to dinner, when he glances over at you with a smile.

the windows rolled down, a breeze coming in and rustling your hair with the warm glow of the sunset filling the car. when he hands you his phone, you look back at him confused.

"y'can pick the music today."

"really?" your entire face lights up with a smile. you start looking through your options immediately while he backs out of your driveway, his arm stretched across the headrest of your seat.

the familiar sound of one of your favorite lana songs fills the car, even seeping out into streets through the open windows. you set down his phone and smile at rafe, pleased that he's happy.

you stare out the window, watching the sun dip further and further away through the trees, wondering how close you are to the restaurant and if rafe will get you dessert after—though you already know the answer.

you're snapped out of your thoughts at another sound—rafe humming along to the end of the song, fingers tapping on the wheel and maybe not even aware of what he's doing. your gaze turns to your boyfriend, eyes staring and taking in the scene, smile a little dozy.

a couple things run through your mind, how rafe's memorized the melody of your favorite song, how he must have liked it enough to remember, how silly yet memorable everything about it feels. warmth blooms in your chest, running up to your face and make your palms clammy.

the song shifts to the next and rafe pulls into the parking lot, stopping the car. he glances up to see you staring back at him.

"what?"

"nothing," you reply, though you feel giddy inside, and over something as small as rafe letting you pick the music and liking what you selected. "i'm... excited for dinner." the lie comes out automatically, not wanting to bring it up just in case. you think you should keep the moment for yourself.

"yeah, me too. c'mon, kid."

"coming, rafe."

‎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀࣪𓏲ּ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

being your boyfriend is rafe's favourite thing.

he does everything for you. whether it was buying you lunch or driving 5 hours just to get you the purse that you really wanted.. he will do it, no matter what.

he likes having you rely on him, depend on him for everything. in fact, he loves it. maybe a little too much. he likes being needed, especially when it came to you. you don't even have to lift a finger, not like rafe would let you anyway. he buys you expensive gifts, takes you on cute dates, gets you flowers, drives you everywhere, he treats you like a queen.

you sat in front of your vanity, looking at yourself in the mirror. rafe sat on the edge of your bed behind you. you were going to a party later tonight to celebrate one of your friend's birthday. running your fingers through your freshly curled hair, you sighed.

"rafe, do you think my hair looks good?", you had spent an hour doing it but it didn't turn out the way you wanted, as per usual.

he looked up from his phone, "of course baby, you could wear a trash bag and you'd still look beautiful."

he always knew what to say, didn't he?

staring at yourself in the mirror you stop worrying about your hair and focus on your outfit. it was supposed to be "casual" but in reality, everyone would be wearing clothes on the fancier side. you make your way to your closet and skim through the collection of dresses, all of which rafe bought you. you pick two out, the first one was a silky dark red dress and the second was a simpler black dress with an open back.

lifting them both up you ask, "which one would fit better for tonight?"

taking a moment to scan the dresses rafe lifts his finger and points to one, "the red dress. 'makes you look hot", he grins.

you walk over to place a kiss on his cheek and he puts his hands around your waist, pulling you in while planting kisses on your neck and making his way down your torso.

"rafe, we have to go soon and i still need to get dressed!" you try to pull away but he tightens his grip.

"tell them we're going to be late then", he says now gliding his hand up your thigh.

you pull out your phone and text your friend.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི my first fic/blurb (idk?) & def not proofread.. please give me feedback if any!!

Couch Crasher

pairing: Daryl Dixon x (Fem!)reader

summary: Daryl carried you to bed, because you fell asleep on the couch... again. (SLIGHT! mention of Daryl's scars nothing big just reader thinking)

You obviously don't mean to fall asleep on the couch, just whenever you come home to the warm sanctuary that is your house in Alexandria the couch seems an inviting space to rest your feet... and maybe sometimes rest your eyes too.

Daryl comes home from the hunt, toeing off his boots in the hallway and strolling into the living room where he is confronted with the sight of you.

your curled up on the edge of the couch, in your sweatpants and stained worn hoodie. Your hair is covering part of your face as you sleep peacefully in the middle of the room, soft breaths leaving your parted lips.

Daryl falters for a second in the doorway, scanning over your sleeping form, allthough you look tranquil enough he wouldn't nessacarly describe the way your lying as comfortable in the long term.

He thinks for a momment, of the last few times he's found you like this, allways too tired to make the extra trek to your bed, he thinks of the way you've never got rid of the dark circles which took up stubborn residence below your sparkling eyes a few years ago.

He shakes his head, a little frown finds its way onto his lips as he stalks closer to your side while you sleep, trying not to wake you. As carefully as he possibly can he reaches out, grabbing your legs with one arm and using the other to support your torso, carrying you bridal style, close to his chest.

A small groan leaves your lips in protest as you turn hiding your face in his chest.

"yeah I know, I know..." Daryl muses, carrying you steadily towards your room, knocking the door open with his shoulder to avoid lessening his grip on you.

He gently lays you down on your bed, pulling the blanets over you and stroking your hair back from your face as you scrunch your nose in annoyance at being disturbed.

"don't give me tha' look" Daryl tilts his head to the side, amusement flickers in his face then he turns away, rummaging through his chest of drawers. He carefully shrugs out of his treasured leather vest, hanging it over the back of a chair before unbuttoning his flannel shirt.

You watch intently, blinking heavily from your place in the warm bed as he shrugs out of yet another layer, revealing his back to you. Your eyes scan over the long scars that litter his back, some thin and some thick and suddenly your ribcage is tightening around your lungs.

You wonder how in the face of all the awfull things against him, he still turned out good... so so truly good.

You take this thought, mulling it, turning it over in your head as you watch him slide into a worn grey t-shirt.

But then he's turning around and every worry, every concern and every bit of anxiety that riddles your worn and exhausted bones is washed away, painted instead in the warm, comforting glow of his little smile. The soft one he reserves for your eyes only in these quiet moments.

You adjust a little as the mattress sinks to his weight, pushing yourself closer to him slightly and wrapping one arm tightly around him, and the other arm across yourself. He holds you closely, running one of his large hands gently through your hair, soothing you softly.

"better than the couch huh?" Daryl jokes, his voice just as soft as his soothing hands are.

"mhm..." you mumble back a tired response, smiling at Daryl, who just shakes his head in fake dissaproval then places a small peck on your forhead.

"back to sleep hun'" he murmurs back, closing his own eyes slowly.

You both lay like that, curled up in one another's embrace, without a single care for the cruel world outside the door of your bedroom. The two of you find refuge in one another's arms, like a safe harbour to a sailor who had been lost in a storm.

Your very last thought before joining Daryl in the realm of peacefull sleep is that, yeah... this is WAY better than couch crashing.

A/N: hope you guys like it! been sitting in my drafts for fucking ages so I just thought I'd post it and see what ppls thoughts are, IF U SEE ANY SPELLING MISTAKES OR GRAMMAR ERRORS OR JUST ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM ID LOVE TO HEAR IT!!! and if you have any prompts or ideas for little drabbles then my requests will be open, I'll try my best ❤️

“Hey—would ya wanna—” Daryl broke off as he crossed the threshold of your room. “Uhh—What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

You looked up at him from the flat of your back. “Oh. Uhh… Do you have ever moments where you’re struck by how terrible your upbringing was?”

He gave you a sympathetic but concerned look. “Mmm. Mhm. Is that why yer layin’ on the floor eatin’ expired peanut butter with a spoon?”

You sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah…” you said softly.

Daryl knelt down beside you.

“What’re you doing?” you asked.

He continued until he was laying down beside you on his back. He glanced over at you. “Shouldn’t be doin’ this alone,” he said. “So, I’ll stay here with ya until yer ready to get up.”

You couldn’t help the tears in your eyes and you gave him a fond, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“No need.”

Prompt: “Do you have ever moments where you’re struck by how terrible your upbringing was?”