this was officially your 4th mother’s day now and your first mother’s day not alone (besides jake).
you hadn’t expected to wake up hearing jake’s giggles echo through the house. normally, you always joke up before jake as you had your alarm set.
you looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 10 am, way past when you usually got up at 7. there was a note beside you in bed where rafe normally was, on it was scribbled ’to mommy’
it said, ‘we turned off your alarm. come downstairs for breakfast when you’re ready. we love you. happy mother’s day! love, rafey and jakey’ you teared up and folded the note how it had been, taking it with you as you got up to put it with your sentimental things.
after you brushed your teeth and put on a comfy robe, you made your way downstairs where rafe and jake were in the kitchen. “mommy’s here!” jake announced proudly, “did you like our note?”
you walked over and lifted him up to hold him, “i loved it baby. you and daddy did great.” you smiled at rafe, your heart content, “did you make me breakfast as a present?”
“we made cimmamon rolls, got you your fancy ice coffee and scramby eggs! also there’s presents but you aren’t supposed to open them till later.” jake grinned and snuggled into your neck.
you looked at rafe, tears welled in your eyes, “you didn’t have to do presents.”
“why wouldn’t i? you’re the best mama i know.” rafe said, leaning over to give you a soft kiss. “besides you deserve it more than anyone.”
your hand went to his cheek and you smiled, “you deserve the world, rafe cameron.”
—
after eating breakfast, it was present time according to jake. he was very excited as he had helped pick some of the items.
you opened the presents first which you could not believe some of the items. there were things from a new purse, new perfume to a brand new phone.
rafe just shrugged and said, “gotta treat ya right mama. you treat us good. isn’t that right kiddo?”
jake grinned, “duh, mommy’s the coolest so she gets the coolest presents. now card time!!”
jake proudly handed you his card where he had scribbled mommy on it, the only word he knew how to write besides his name and inside was a picture of the three of you. rafe had also had written a translation of all the lines of scribbles, ‘to mommy, you’re the best mommy. i love you. love, jakey’
you kissed jake’s forehead, “thank you sweetheart.” then you looked at rafe who handed you his card.
when you opened it your heart fluttered, there was a whole paragraph of love, but at the end it said, ‘thank you for letting me love jake and you. my life wouldn’t be complete without either of you. i can’t wait to have more babies and give jake some pals so he doesn’t have to keep slummin it with me all the time.’
you jumped out of your seat and hugged him, kissing him all over which earned a few ‘ews’ from jake. “i want another baby.” you whispered.
rafe chuckled, “oh i’ll give ya one darlin, but let’s wait till kiddo is in bed.” rafe grinned and pulled you in his lap to hold you tight. “i love you, angel.”
“i love you rafe. thank you for giving me the best mother’s day.”
You wake before Rafe in the morning. The words you think you heard have been on repeat in your brain for exactly seven hours; so much so that you’re not even sure you actually ever drifted off. His arm is draped loosely around your body and his snores are soft, leading you to reach down and guide your hand on top of his from where it rests around you.
In a way, you consider how perfect it would be. You wouldn’t have to live in a house with two strangers – to you and each other – for the summer until you head off to grad school, and you could be with him all the time. The way you’ve been dying to be since you first met him.
Another part of you worries. Worries that Rafe might get sick of you, worries that he might regret offering to share his space with you. What if he’d just been too caught up in his post-sex high to even properly remember what he’d said?
You bite down on your bottom lip and decide not to say a word to him about it, given you don’t want to make him feel obligated to do or say anything.
You feel him stir after a few minutes; his grip tightening around you and pulling your back into his chest. His lips ghost over your cheek, and he peaks his eyes open just enough to see that yours already are.
“Honey?” he questions softly, his voice raspy and hesitant.
You turn in his arms and give him a soft smile, urging the doubt and the uncertainty away. He relaxes a bit when he sees your sweet smile, but his eyebrows remain furrowed
“Hi,” you murmur.
“Hi,” he pulls you closer, eyes beading into yours, “You okay?”
Your smile is wider this time, “I’m great.”
Visibly, Rafe’s tenseness falls and he kisses your forehead. His hair is messy and his eyes seem extra blue somehow, a fact you study for far too long.
“Good. I was afraid you were regretful.”
“What?” you question, scooting closer to him without even realizing it.
He shrugs shyly, as if his suggestion seems ridiculous to him now. You reach up and press your palm against his cheek, stroking the skin there with the base of your thumb.
He hums under your movement, giving you a little smile as you do so.
“Rafe,” you say quietly, “I – no, I’m not regretful.”
You want to say more; to tell him how much you love him and reassure him of everything he could possibly be thinking right now. Instead, you just smile and keep stroking his skin, watching those motions reassure him in ways words never could.
“I’m glad,” he practically whispers, “Because last night meant a lot to me.”
“Me too.”
He grins, “Go brush.”
You bite your bottom lip to hide your growing smile, then turn and hurry from his bed and into his bathroom. Just as before, Rafe leisurely enters the bathroom after you, pressing himself a little too close and smiling a little too wide when you hand him his toothbrush.
You giggle, not even caring that you have a mouthful of toothpaste, unable to believe that you’re allowed to be this happy. Never in a million years would you have guessed you’d end up brushing your teeth and showering with Rafe Cameron, but something about it feels like a home that you’ve never had before. It’s easy, comforting, real, and raw. It’s honest; not some place you have to put a mask on and smile or pretend you don’t notice how your parents won’t look at each other.
Rafe pulls you back to bed after you both finish brushing, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you into his lap.
“You don’t want to lay back down?” you ask him with a teasing smirk.
“Y/N,” he shakes his head, “If we lay back down, I’m going to end up inside you again, and I know you’re probably sore.”
You giggle, “You really think highly of yourself, huh?”
His eyebrows shoot up, as if daring you to continue, but a smile teases the ends of his lips. His hands innocently roam your body before stopping just above your hips, lightly pinching your side and grinning when you squeal.
“What was that?” Rafe asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you backpedal, laugh on your lips, “Teasing you.”
“Mhm,” he hums, “Better be. You’re beautiful when you laugh.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss him.
He accepts your kiss with no hesitation; instead reaching up and guiding you down to him. He’s in no rush and he lets it show; letting his lips move slowly against yours and taking his time memorizing how you taste.
“Can I feed you now?” he asks against your lips, a part of you knowing he doesn’t want to get up from this position.
His hands remain on your body, tucking themselves under the tee shirt you’re wearing and feeling your skin on his own.
“If you must,” you smile.
His lips move down to your neck, starting a pursuit from the top down to your collar bones, nipping lightly at your skin.
“Don’t want you to go,” he mumbles, “Want you in my bed tonight.”
You squirm on his lap before you can help it, his words shooting straight to your lower stomach and causing you to bite down on your lower lip. Just the thought of being with him again is enough to have you drooling.
Before you can respond verbally, Rafe continues speaking, still against the skin on the opposite side of your neck.
“Every night,” he corrects, “Every single one.”
He pulls back then, his blue eyes staring into yours and giving you a small smile. You decide then, with him looking at you the way he is, to forget everything you’d told yourself this morning.
“Even after graduation?” you test it out, your voice high pitched and squeaky.
Rafe’s eyes widen for half a second before a bit of pink rises to his cheeks. You purse your lips to hide a smile at that, watching as he scrambles for something to say.
Um,” he stops and clears his throat, “You heard that?”
“Mhm,” you nod, “But if you just said it because–”
“Because I meant it,” he stops you, “Honey, I’d love for you to stay with me after you graduate.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, still unsure even with his convincing nature. He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from your face, his eyes never leaving yours as he does so.
“Are you sure?” you ask, “I’m messy, and I hate doing the dishes, and I can’t cook, I can bake, I guess, but I can’t fold shirts very well, you know, like how they do at department stores?”
Rafe laughs and shakes his head, stopping you from babbling on about everything you lack in. As if it’s possible, he pulls you closer , holding your gaze with intent.
“Well, lucky for you, I lovedoing the dishes, I can cook most foods, but I can’t bake, and I do my own laundry, anyway. We sound like the perfect fit.”
You grin then, unable to help yourself. The idea of this being your life everyday for longer than a weekend fills your mind, and no part of you doubts that you’ll dislike it.
“We do, don’t we?” you ask him quietly.
He nods, “Yeah. Let’s give it a try. Please?”
You suck in a deep breath and squirm on his lap before you can help it, watching as he swallows. Slowly, you nod, stroking the hair on the back of his neck with your nails.
“You promise you’ll tell me if I get on your nerves?”
He laughs, “I really don’t think that’s possible.”
“Rafe.”
“Okay,” he chuckles, “Yes, I promise.”
“Thank you.”
You give him a happy smile, one which he returns, then give him a quick kiss and lay your head on his shoulder. His hands stroke up and down your back, calming and comforting you more than he’s aware.
“Hungry?” he whispers in your ear, laughing when you nod.
“Pancakes?” you ask, as you rise from his lap.
He grins and takes your hand, letting you pull him off the bed. He taps your ass lightly with his other hand, letting you lead him out of his bedroom.
“Yes. I’ll put chocolate chips in yours if you make coffee.”
“Sold.”
Saying goodbye to Rafe seems harder this time than the others. You’d come here to fix things, and done just that, but the thought of sleeping alone, of reading alone in bed or watching TV by yourself only makes you sad.
You can tell he feels the same with the way he squeezes your hand once you stop on the dock, staring out at the ferry as if it might kill you upon approach.
“Maybe we could have that dinner with your dad next weekend,” Rafe volunteers, “Only if you don’t have any studying to do.”
You smile and look up at him, willing to agree to suffer through a dinner with your father if it means coming back to see him.
“Yes,” you reply.
“Okay,” Rafe grins, pulling you closer, “You could bring some of your stuff, if you want.”
You giggle before you can help it, “It’s March, Rafe.”
“So?”
You collapse into his chest, your hands clawing their way up his shirt to feel his bare skin. He shivers under your touch; your hands slightly cold against his warm skin.
“The semester doesn’t end until May.”
“I don’t care,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair, “Leave it anyway. It will reassure me that you have to come back every time you leave.”
Your eyes flutter closed, replaying those words over and over in your head. As usual, neither of you are in a hurry to separate, not caring about ferry schedules or the people around you.
When he squeezes, you know he’s about to tell you it’s time. Silently, you nuzzle deeper into his chest, your way of protesting.
“Honey,” he urges softly, “I’m sorry. You have to go.”
You swallow and suck in a deep breath, then pull back from his hug. His lips meet yours before either of you know it, moving sweetly and softly, showing you his love without saying a word.
“I love you,” you remind him when you pull back, your breath fanning his lips as you speak.
“I love you, too,” he promises.
Slowly, he removes your duffle bag from his shoulder and places it on your own, giving you one last kiss before he releases you completely.
You take a few steps away from him before you turn around, finding a cigarette already between his fingers and his eyes on you.
“My turn to write?” you ask.
He nods, “Yes. Soon, please.”
You grin and nod, telling him that you’ll do it. He waits for you to turn around again before he lights his cigarette, waiting there as he always does until the ferry is out of sight.
“Moving in?”
You purse your lips, not sure of what else to say. Emma stares back at you, her glasses resting on the tip of her nose as she gawks.
You’d made it into the apartment, having had to take an Uber home from the dock, and about twelve feet into the living room before you blurted out that Rafe asked you to stay with him after graduation. Her jaw had dropped instantly, and no words came out for a solid sixty seconds.
“Y/N, shit,” she mutters, “That’s big. I mean, you guys have only known each other for, like, what? Three months? Maybe?Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
You shrug innocently, “I mean, it’s only for the summer. He knows I don’t want to stay with my parents.”
“Oh, your parents,” Emma tosses her arms up in the air, “Who will probably go batshit crazy when they find out you’re bunking with the biggest party animal in the graduating class of–”
“Hey,” you snap, “He’s different now.”
“So are you,” she replies, “The Y/N I know would chain me to the couch if I tried to move in with Ethan after two months.”
Your jaw clenches a bit, defensiveness rising. You take a deep breath and try to see it from her point of view, which is the only reason why you see where she’s coming from. Before Rafe, these decisions would’ve been insane to you. Now that you’ve been in love, it just seems to be what’s right.
“You don’t love him,” you point out, “And,you’re not dating him. Officially.”
Emma shakes her head, “Not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point, Em. I feel at home with him. The only other person I’ve felt that with is—”
You stop when you feel the emotions swell in your chest, crossing your arms and unwilling to admit it when the two of you are on the verge of fighting. Her eyes widen when she realizes, taking a few steps closer.
“Me?” she asks.
You nod, “Yes, you. And I can’t live with you, so–”
“Oh, Y/N,” she groans, throwing her arms around you, “You know I just had to be the mom for a minute. Since you’ve always been the mom for me.”
You laugh and wrap your arms around her squeezing her closer. A few more months, and your best friend is going back to Virginia with her family, off to her next adventure. Without you. The fear of the friendship fading into social media updates and sporadic ‘It’s been too longI!’ text messages makes your heart ache, even as you cling to her.
“Does that mean I can move in with him?” you teasingly ask.
She laughs, “Yes. On one condition.”
“Which is?”
Emma pulls back, giving you a genuine smile.
“You have to call me everyday.”
You laugh and nod your head, pulling her in for one final hug before the two of you separate.
“I can and I will,” you agree.
“Good. Wanna watch Golden Girls?”
The week drags longer than any other week before it. Your classes get longer, your professors drone on more and more, and the hours pass by at a slower pace. You mailed Rafe a letter on Monday, reading:
Rafe,
I told Emma about moving in with you after we graduate. She was hesitant at first, but we have her blessing. Just thought you’d want to know that.
I’m in a class right now. I know I should be paying attention, but all I can think about is you. Can I send you a dirty letter? I’m afraid the guy who delivers your mail will read it.
Actually, I don’t care if he does.
All I can think about is the way you feel when you pull me close. The way your hands feel when they move down my back and slip under my shirt. The way your mouth felt on my chest that first night. The way you cover every inch of my body when you’re on top of me, touching me everywhere. I love the way your skin feels on mine. It’s one of my favorite things, actually. I can’t wait to feel you again. Every part of you. We’ll take our time this time. No anxiety, no rushing. I just want to memorize every piece of you.
Now, I’m thinking about hugging you and kissing you, and how much I want to do it for hours on end. To just feel safe with you and loved by you is the most incredible feeling in the world. I can’t stop thinking about how amazing it’s going to feel when I get to see you every single day.
Thank you for letting me stay with you. Honestly, I think I’d have gotten my own place if you hadn’t come up with the idea. I just can’t stand to live with my parents for another second. Not when I could be coming home to you every day.
Anyway, sorry my letter seems to be all over the place. That’s kind of been me the past few days, though. My mind is only calm when I’m with you.
I hope your week is going well. Call if you want to talk, otherwise write to me soon.
I love you.
Yours,
Y/N
When Tuesday evening rolls around, and you’re knee deep in homework, trying to knock it all out before you go back home, Rafe calls. You grin and slam your laptop shut, sitting back on your bed as you answer.
“Hello?”
He’s silent for a moment, but you can hear him exhale. You bite down on your bottom lip, waiting to hear his voice.
“You sent me a dirty letter?”
His voice is low, raspy, telling you just how much your words have gotten to him. You squirm on your bed, containing your laughter.
“Kinda,” you tease, “Did you like it?”
“Y/N,” he groans, “Yeah, honey, I fucking liked it. I had to take a shower after I read it.”
“Oh,” you laugh, then purse your lips when you realize what he means, “Oh.”
“You’re killing me,” he mumbles.
“Sorry.”
“It’s worth it. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” you say without missing a beat, “So, I get out of class at two on Thursday, and the last ferry leaves at–”
“Take it,” he tells you, “I’ll come get you when you get in.”
“Are you sure? It’s gonna be a bit late–”
“Don’t care, honey. I’ll come get you at three in the morning if it means I get one more night with you.”
You smile; feeling that familiar heat bloom all over your body. It pools in your stomach – evidence of your need for him.
“Thank you, Rafe,” you whisper.
You can practically feel his smirk through the phone, but you wait for his words anyway.
“Yeah, well, we’re going to need the extra night to give you even more to write about in your next dirty letter,” he teases.
You laugh, “I guess we will, huh?”
“Hmm,” he hums, “Make sure you check your mailbox tomorrow. I don’t want your mailman reading my letter, either.”
“You wrote me a dirty letter back?” you gasp.
He chuckles. You shift on your bed, laying on your side instead of your back, sitting up with intrigue.
“I did, honey. All of my excitement for Thursday is in there.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” you tell him, “I’m doing all my homework now so I don’t have to worry about it when I’m there.”
“Good idea. I’ll let you get back to it, okay?”
You frown, but you know that’s probably for the best.
“Okay.”
“I love you,” he says quietly, “All mine.”
“All yours. I love you, too.”
“Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Rafe.”
Y/N,
First, I’m glad Emma approves of you living with me over the summer. Don’t forget about my extra bedroom, Emma can always come and stay with us if she wants to visit. Ethan can come too, if they’re still a thing by then. He’s a cool guy, so I wouldn’t mind.
Now, let’s talk about how riled up you got me with just a few words. I mean, really? You of all people want to talk about how good skin to skin contact feels? Do you even understand how much I love feeling you? Because I do.
That first night you let me see you, I was putty in your hands, honey. I would’ve given you absolutely anything, right then and there. Touching you, feeling you, it was everything. And when you let me put my mouth on you? I thought I was going to cum in my pants like a fucking fourteen year-old. You taste amazing, and it strokes my ego a lot knowing I’m the only person who knows that. I can’t wait until you’re here. I’m gonna lay you down and memorize every goddamn inch of you. I’m gonna take my time, just like you said, and make you feel good over and over again. I’m counting down the seconds until I can get you back in my bed. Can’t wait until summer, when I can just keep you there. I might have to quit my job just so I can stay home and love on you all day. I’ll put some thought into it.
So soon, beautiful. See you so soon.
I love you so much.
Yours,
Rafe
After numerous hugs from Emma and promising her over and over that you will, in fact, come back on Sunday, you’re on the ferry. Rafe’s latest letter sits in your hands, the promise of reading it once more making you giddy. You relax in your seat and open it, careful of any lingering eyes before you dive in.
You watch the sunset just before the ferry docks, taking a few pictures to show Rafe and send to Emma. Just like it had a week ago, your duffle bag strap meets your shoulder and you hurry off the ferry, desperate to lay eyes on him once again.
It’s like a breath of fresh air, seeing him in front of you. His hair is a bit messy, and you can tell he’d come straight from work with his outfit. His tie is pulled out from his neck, hanging loose. His blue button down has you practically drooling, his letter now heavy in your bag as you think of all the things you want him to do to you.
He tosses his half-consumed cigarette on the ground and crushes it before he starts down the dock, easy smile gracing his features.
“There she is,” he says through his grin, throwing his arms around you once you’re close enough.
“You look handsome,” you tell him, unable to contain that thought any longer.
He chuckles in your ear, “Thank you, honey.”
His face nuzzles into your neck, his lips pressing quick, wet kisses there. You scratch up and down his back through his button down, listening to him hum contently into your skin. After a minute, his hands rise and cup your cheeks, pulling you back so he can get a good look at your face.
“Hi,” he whispers through a smile.
“Sorry, I forgot to say hi,” you giggle sheepishly, “Hi.”
He laughs easily, “The compliment was appreciated just as much. I missed you.”
“I missed you,” you tell him, pulling him closer by his collar, “I was reading your letter on the trip.”
Rafe smirks proudly, removing your duffle from your shoulder and placing it on his own before he takes your hand. He tugs you into him, then starts walking – rather quickly, you think – toward the parking lot.
“You’re gonna sleep well tonight, honey,” he murmurs, leading you right up to his truck.
Every single word in Rafe’s letter comes true that evening. You’re sure it’s well into the two a.m. hour when he finally collapses beside you, his lips swollen and pink, every inch of your body burning up under the feeling of his mouth trailing over the skin. He’d coaxed a solid three orgasms from you before coming undone himself, disposing of the condom before he climbs back into bed and pulls you into his chest.
Every part of you feels content, happy, loved. If it weren’t for the sleep clawing at your eyes, you’re sure you would turn around and kiss him for a few more hours.
Instead, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your flaming cheek, both of you remaining naked, giving you as much access to his skin as possible.
“Rafe?” you mumble.
“Yeah?”
You keep your eyes closed as you ask your question, hoping your body doesn’t burn any hotter than it already is.
“Can I take care of you tomorrow night?”
He swallows audibly, “Honey–”
“Please,” you whine, “You take such good care of me and I want to do the same with you. I might not be any good, but–”
“Stop,” he demands, “You’ll be great. I’ll guide you through it.”
You smile to yourself, “So, that’s a yes?”
“Fuck. Yes. It’s a yes.”
You grin victoriously, leaning your head to the side to kiss his forearm where it rests around you.He squeezes you tighter in response, letting you drift off to sleep without a thought in your head.
You wake up in Rafe’s bed alone, tangled in his sheets and his scent, but not him.You can tell it’s early based on the minimal sunlight coming through his blinds, so you pull the blanket over your chest and sit up.
Right then, he steps back into his bedroom, fully dressed for work with his tie hanging around his neck. He’d showered, you can tell by his hair, and you wonder how he did all of this without waking you.
“Goodmorning, honey. Sorry if I woke you,” he says quietly, stepping over to the bed to give you a quick kiss.
You oblige, pecking his lips before you pull back to rub the sleep from your eyes. Your heart sinks at the thought of him having to leave, but the last thing you want to do is make a fuss when he’s being kind enough to let you stay.
“You didn’t,” you inform him, “But I’m afraid you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”
He shakes his head, leaning down for another kiss.
“I was going to leave a letter.”
You smile at that, which has him giving you one right back. He steps over to his dresser and pulls out one of his tee shirts, walking over to the bed and gesturing for you to raise your arms. You do, letting him pull his shirt over your head.
Once it’s on, he leans down and kisses the top of your head, then reaches for your hand and tugs on it.
“Let me show you something,” he requests.
You nod and stand up, letting him guide you back over to his dresser. He pulls out each drawer one by one, letting you observe the fact that each one is only half-full, clothes all folded and pressed to the right side of the drawer.
“Why are you showing me this?” you ask him.
He smiles, “I made room for your stuff. So, your shirts can go with mine, and your pants can go with mine, and your underwear–”
“Rafe,” you stop him with a giggle, “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, beaming, “Maybe while I’m gone, you can put some stuff away.”
“I will,” you promise him.
“Good. Now, I have to go. I made you some coffee and left it in the pot. If you need anything, call me.”
“Okay,” you nod weakly, not wanting him to go.
He squeezes your hand, showing you he feels the same way. He leans down then, his forehead pressed against yours.
“Give me a kiss,” he demands softly.
You do just that; grabbing ahold of the back of his neck and pulling him closer while you kiss him. His arm wraps around your back, causing him to groan when he realizes you’re kissing him in onlyhis shirt, and he’s still supposed to leave you.
“Have a good day,” you tell him when you pull back.
“Mmm,” he hums, “I’ll just be thinking of you. Here. In my shirt. In my bed. In my shower–”
“You’re going to be late,” you laugh.
“All right, I’m going,” he promises, “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” you nod, loving the way those words sound from him.
“Love you, honey,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.
“Love you, too.”
You follow him out to the living room, where he picks up his stuff, then strides right back over and presses one last kiss to your lips.
“Bye,” he murmurs.
“Bye, Rafe,” you smile.
He escapes out the front door with one last smile and wave, locking it behind him. You collapse on his couch the second he’s gone, a daze washing over you at the thought of this being your life for the entire summer.
You’d get to kiss him goodbye every morning, eat dinner with him, show him how much you love him every night, and weekends would be your own, as they are now. It just wouldn’t feel so rushed, so vital to soak up every second of him.
You pour out a cup of coffee and lounge in the living room for a while before deciding to take a shower. Afterward, you dress and put the items you brought to leave here – just to please Rafe – away in his dresser. You’d brought a few shirts, a pair of shorts and a pair of leggings, and just to tease him, a few pairs of your favorite underwear. The idea of him seeing them every day when he dresses gets you a little too excited, especially paired with the fact that you love the way your clothes look tucked next to his.
Once your clothes are away, and the boredom starts to set in, you make your way over to his nightstand to look at the books he has there. Then, without thinking much of it, you open the drawer. It’s mostly random items, and you tell yourself you’re not snooping, even though you know you are. He has a spare charger, a box of condoms, aspirin, and other random little things. Just before you close it, your eye catches a photograph at the bottom. All you can see from the exposed piece is Rafe; smiling widely. You grin and pull it out without hesitance, fully not expecting what you find.
It’s Rafe in high school, holding up a bottle of Patron in his right hand. His left arm is tucked around Ava, who you instantly recognize, and who is smiling widely. She stands in between Rafe and Kelce, who you also recognize, but her body language shows how she leans in just a little bit closer to Rafe.
He looks happy, young, and carefree. So does Kelce, and so does Ava. You search the picture for a date but can’t find one, deciding eventually that it doesn’t matter.
The image you paint of Rafe sitting in bed staring at this picture and wallowing in guilt makes your heart ache. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s done that, if he does it often or if he’s forgotten the photo is even in his nightstand. It looks well kept, like he’d taken good care of it over the years. No creases or bends, no fingerprints, either.
You tuck it back away just as you found it, then leave his bedroom quietly. More than anything, you wish you could take his pain away. To help him recognize that it wasn’t his fault, that he can’t continue beating himself up over this.
Instead, you decide to do what you did for him when you first met him. You bake.
You’re knee deep in snickerdoodle dough when Rafe comes strolling through the front door, grinning widely when he sees what you’re doing.
“Wow,” he breathes.
You laugh but continue your work, letting him set down his things before he steps over to you. His arms tuck themselves around your waist and his lips come in contact with your cheek, making you smile.
“How was your day?” you ask him.
“Don’t even remember it,” he confesses, “This, right here, is all I was thinking about.”
You smile and turn in his arms, forgetting momentarily about the dough. He grips your waist firmly, holding you in place.
“I missed you,” you tell him, your emotions still present, making your heart heavy.
He smiles, “I missed you, too, honey. Is that why you’re baking for me?”
You shake your head, wanting more than anything to reach out for him but your hands are covered in flour and dough mixture, so you opt not to.
“I’m taking care of you tonight, remember?”
He bites down on his bottom lip to hide a smile, which is enough for you to swoon silently.
“I didn’t know that meant food, too,” he teases.
“Well, it only kind of does. I was hoping we could do takeout for dinner.”
He laughs, “Of course.”
He leans in, and when you’re sure he’s going to kiss you, he presses his lips to your nose instead.
He laughs lightly when you pout, chasing his mouth with your own.
“You had flour on your nose, beautiful,” he tells you.
“Thank you,” you whisper, body heating up under his proximity.
“Want me to order now?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He laughs lightly, “Finish up your cookies. I’ll get you a menu.”
Your cookies come out of the oven just as the takeout arrives at the front door. Rafe unpacks the food and plates it for both of you, then guides you into the living room to eat. He turns on Seinfeld, his new favorite even though he won’t admit it, laughing through the entire thing. Rafe looks at you expectantly once you both finish dinner, and when you laugh and nod, he hops up and carries both of your plates to the kitchen.
He returns a few minutes later with a small plate full of snickerdoodles, a smile teasing his lips.
“These are just for me,” he jokes as he collapses on the couch beside you.
“Ha ha,” you sneer, stealing one of the cookies from the plate.
Rafe lets another episode play through while he raves about the cookies, holding you close once the plate is empty. You cuddle into him, ready more than ever to feel him close again. It’s only been less than twenty-four hours, but all you want, all you can focus on, is him.
“What’s on your mind, honey?”
You chew on your bottom lip, your head resting on his shoulder. The show seems quieter somehow, even though you missed Rafe turning it down.
“Just thinking about what I want,” you reply weakly.
You know you don’t sound confident, and you’re sure that’s not sexy to him at all, but his voice remains steady nonetheless.
“What’s that?” he asks.
You turn and look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent, “I want to go in your room.”
He swallows, “Yeah?”
You nod and move to stand, taking his hand and pulling him up with you. His eyes never leave yours as you start to tug him toward his bedroom. He leaves the TV on and the plate on his coffee table, forgetting about everything that isn’t you.
Once you reach his room, you guide Rafe to the bed and let him sit, then crawl into his lap. Without wasting another second, you lean down and kiss him, deepening it immediately. His hands fall under your shirt, pulling it off of you without hesitation. His eyes widen when he sees that you have no bra on, and you watch his lips purse to hide his smirk.
“Rafe,” you mumble, watching his eyes move from your chest to you, “I want you to tell me if I do something wrong–”
“Stop doubting yourself,” he says, “You’re perfect. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
You nod, but stand from his lap and sit on your knees on the floor anyway. His eyes widen as you do this, jaw falling slightly when your hands meet his belt.
“I want to,” you tell him.
He nods slowly, “Okay. I’m all yours.”
He helps you by lifting his hips so you can remove his work pants completely, ridding him of his underwear as well. He’s already hard, and that fact skyrockets your confidence.
He shakes his head at your expression, scoffing slightly but saying nothing. Instead, he groans when you wrap your hand around him, which is another boost to your confidence.
Without hesitation, every thought leaving your mind, you lap up the small beads resting on his tip, which has Rafe hissing.
“Shit,” he grunts, “You’re worried about doing something wrong?”
You give him an innocent smile, “I mean, yeah.”
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, “This isn’t going to take long if you keep looking at me like that.” You giggle and stroke him up and down a few times in your hand, your eyes meeting his just before your mouth wraps around him.
His hips buck toward you immediately, but you draw back before he can push further into your mouth.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, pressing a gentle kiss to his inner thigh, “Just relax.”
He lets out a shaky exhale, “Hard to do that with your mouth on me.”
You chuckle, your body heating up slightly. You take another look at him, then focus on what you’re doing once more, and take him back in your mouth.
You go slow, having heard horror stories from Emma about gagging and not wanting to embarrass yourself like that now, and stop when you feel him near the back of your mouth. He’s staring up at the ceiling, inhaling and exhaling slowly, and you take that as a good sign.
When you pull back and then forward again, your mouth never leaving him, he groans loudly. Your hand works what your mouth can’t reach, but after a few more pumps, you stop and drop your hand lower. You hollow your cheeks around him at the same moment your hand brushes just underneath him, causing him to swear.
“Fuck, fuck, f–”
He yanks himself from you, ignoring your pout that he didn’t finish. His eyes squeeze shut as he takes a minute to gather control of himself, and when he opens them again, seeing you shirtless and on your knees, he groans.
“Rafe, you–”
“Honey, you did amazing,” he promises, “But I’d like to last long enough to fuck you.”
You swallow and nod, holding out your hands for him to help you up. He picks you up once you’re standing and places you on the bed, pulling off your shorts and panties before climbing on top of you.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you remind him breathlessly, gasping when he nips at the skin on your neck.
He smiles against your skin and then rolls over, pulling you on top of him. Your legs fall on either side of his body and he grins when he sees you perched perfectly on top of him.
“Take care of me, then,” he smirks.
You just nod, leaning down to kiss him. His hand flies to hsi nightstand, opening the drawer and fishing around for a condom blindly as he moves to deepen the kiss.
“You’ll help me?” you ask him when he pulls back, tearing the condom wrapper with his teeth.
“Of course I will.”
You watch him as he reaches around you to roll the condom on, then grabs ahold of your hips and places you right where he wants you. Without him having to direct you, you sit up on your knees and let him reach between your legs to position himself just right. He smirks when you do so, but you sink down on him before he can tease you any more.
You gasp, stopping when you need to, given that being on top feels different to you than when Rafe is. He inhales sharply, still grasping your hips as if his life depends on it.
“That’s my girl,” he grunts, “Take your time.”
“Feels good,” you tell him.
He sits up, leaning his back against the wall, so he has easier access to kiss you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he moves, even though he tries his best to be gentle.
“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, “So good for me. Give me a kiss.”
You oblige, letting his lips distract you while you sink down further, taking even more of him. He groans into your mouth, which only urges you to continue.
You start to move after a minute, hiding your face in his neck as he guides your hips up and down. The new angle of him being under you only increases your pleasure, as if you can feel every single bit of him inside you.
“Rafe, I–” you stop, whimpering when his hips buck up into yours, “I love you.”
He kisses you quickly, “I love you, too. Always.”
You release around him not long after that, and he follows quickly behind. You collapse on his chest, his hand rubbing your back up and down as you recover. He remains inside you, knowing you like being that close to him even after both of you are through.
“Did I do okay?” you ask him after a few minutes.
He laughs incredulously, “Are you fucking kidding? You’re perfect.”
You press a kiss to his chest, remaining on top of him until he quietly reminds you that he needs to take care of the condom.
When he returns from the bathroom, he moves over to his dresser to grab a fresh pair of boxers. He freezes when he sees your panties in there beside his underwear, and when he spins, your favorite lacy black thong hangs from his pointer finger.
“So, you’re just going to act like this isn’t going to drive me fucking crazy every morning?” He raises an eyebrow.
You giggle, “Oops.”
He groans, muttering fuck under his breath before returning them to the drawer and pulling out boxers. When he returns to bed, he pulls you right into him, kissing you slowly.
“Glad you unpacked, though,” he whispers, “Feels like it’s your home now, too.”
You grin and press another kiss to his lips, not rushing anything.
As Friday grows nearer, you become even more anxious to attend class for two reasons. One, if you had somehow been caught cheating on the exam, it could be the day you get in trouble. Two, you have to see Rafe Cameron. You have to see his handsome smirk and his raging blue eyes, all the while pretending to be unaffected by him.
He’s kind and good, you decide. He is all the things you are not. He studies, you don’t. He’s generous, you’re not. He’s thoughtful, you’re not. He thinks of others. You do not.
You decide on your walk to class, after considering all of this, that you will say two things to Rafe Cameron. You will politely thank him for helping you out and offer him a free drink at the bar, then you will excuse yourself from his life and sit somewhere else completely. He will just be a guy who helped you out in a pinch, one that you see every so often on campus and maybewave to or smile at.
What Rafe Cameron will not become, you think, is a liability.
You run through what you might expect from him as you walk into the building; you imagine he’ll probably just flash you his smile and those baby blues and expect you to melt, but you know you’re stronger than that. You hope,anyway.
What you don’t expect, however, walking into the room with your rehearsed words on the tip of your tongue, is to find Rafe already seated where the two of you have been, with a girl at his side. They’re both laughing, and you can tell by the way the blonde is beaming at him that he is charming the shit out of her.
You inhale and then puff out your cheeks, moving to find a seat all the way across the room. As you sit, you can hear the girl giggle, making you roll your eyes. You catch your mind dwelling on it after a moment, and you have to consciously remind yourself that this is good.It’s exactly what you wanted, what you planned on telling Rafe anyway. You’re just strangers with an act of kindness between the two of you.
With one last, long exhale, and the feeling of those blue eyes burning into your side, you pull out a notebook from your bag. Given that Rafe won’t be there for the next exam, you figure you’re going to have to start paying attention.
You take one page of notes and give up twenty-seven minutes in. The content is too boring, the presentation lacks any sort of thing that would excite students, and you swear you could take a nap if it weren’t for the way your skin was being seared under his gaze.
You tell yourself it has to be your imagination; that he’s not looking at you. You’re not even sure why he would be, given who he’s sitting beside.
The second class ends, you shove your notebook into your bag and make way for the door. Before you can help yourself, you steal a glance his way as you leave. He’s already watching you, and when you meet his eyes, he looks like he’s about to call out to you. That is, until the blond wraps her hand around his forearm to get his attention, and she is successful. You scoff lowly and exit the room, wasting no time hurrying out to the parking lot.
Black Boar is in full swing, and for once, you appreciate the business. It keeps your mind from wandering anywhere, and all you have to do is focus and pump out drink orders. Bryn stands beside you at the bar, and you can’t help but notice how she’s in a lower top than she’d worn last week.
“What?” she asks when she catches you looking at her with raised eyebrows.
You shrug, pouring your drink into a glass, “Nice top.”
She scoffs, waiting for you to hand off your drink to your customer before she responds.
“If it gets me twenty dollar tips, I’m fine with it,” she shrugs, “Speaking of, where is the mystery man?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” you reply, trying your best to keep your tone even.
“Hmm,” she hums, giving you a smirk, “Something tells me he’s around here somewhere.”
You just roll your eyes and get back to it, taking absolutely nothing to heart and doing the best you can to get those blue eyes out of your mind forever.
You almost manage to do it. Just as he slips your mind completely, just as you get in a groove of making drinks and handing them out, you see him.
Leaning up against your bar with his backwards cap and that fuckingsmile, you curse. He turns his head just so, as if sensing your distress, and grins even wider. You just shake your head, dropping your eyes from his so that he doesn’t draw you in. If he wants a drink, you decide, he’s going to have to do better than that.
Standing beside him, you notice, is the friend that approached Rafe while the two of you were talking last week. They’re talking back and forth, laughing every so often, and all you can see when you steal a glance is him sitting with that blonde girl in class.
Groaning, you walk over to Bryn. She’s pumping out drinks and really working for her tips, but she stops when she senses your need.
“Can you please serve him?” you grumble.
She frowns, “Serve who– Oh, my.”
You watch as she admires Rafe over your shoulder, grinning and giving him a flirty wave when she presumably meets his eye.
“Stop,” you swat her hand down, “Just make him go away.”
“Y/N,” she laughs, “Is this about the exam thing? He did you a favor, so what? You have nothing to be embarrassed about–”
“I’m not embarrassed,” you snap.
“Ashamed?”
“No.”
“Lesser?”
“Bryn, please,” you beg, “I just don’t want to deal with it right now.”
She raises her eyebrows, as if she doesn’t believe you somehow, but eventually shrugs and nods her head.
“Even though it will be tough for me to serve the guy who tips twenty bucks on one drink, I’ll do it for you,” she promises.
“Thank you.”
You exhale and get back to your drinks, not even bothering to spare Rafe one glance. As much as you tell yourself it’s not about the blonde and more about just keeping your distance in general, you still can’t get the sight out of your head.
In the middle of making yet another drink, you see Bryn make her way past you and down to Rafe. You can’t hear them due to the proximity and the volume of the bar, but out of the corner of your eye, you watch Bryn lean forward, then Rafe points over at you. Clearing your throat, you hand the drink off and move further away, hoping that might solve the issue.
It doesn’t. Rafe excuses himself – ever so politely, you’re sure – from Bryn and makes his way down the bar, stopping directly in front of you with a slight smirk on his lips.
“Let me guess,” he calls out, “You aren’t happy with your exam grade.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “What?”
“Well,” he laughs lightly, “I’ve been racking my brain all day trying to figure out why you didn’t, y’know, sit with me in class today. That’s all I can come up with.”
“Really?” you hike up a brow, amused, “You can’t think of any other reason?”
You can tell by the way his eyes flicker that it clicks in his brain, and the second it does, you watch his face transform. He relaxes immediately, grins wider than you’ve ever seen him before, and laughs.
“What,Lindsay?” he practically scoffs, “Come on, Y/N–”
“Do you want a drink or not?” you stop him, “Because I’m busy and you’re holding me up.”
“Does it help that I’m a good tipper?” he retorts.
You take a deep breath, exhaling out with a sigh and then shaking your head at him. Without saying another word, you make him the drink he ordered last time. He watches you as you move, and when you slide it across the counter, his face falls halfway.
“I appreciate what you did,” you say, “But, I’m good. The drink’s on me. See you around, Rafe.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but you turn and walk away, leaving him with nothing but the resignation to accept the drink and watch you leave his life just as quickly as you’d found yourself in it.
The week passes by in a blur of homework, shifts, and not thinking about a particular backwards hat. Thankfully, you make it through the week without seeing him on campus, and try to push down the anticipation of Friday coming around. You continue to tell yourself that you put him in his place, he knows what you expect, and he’s not going to push you.
A guy like him wouldn’t even think twice about someone like you, you think.
When Friday rolls around, you’ve trained yourself to not think about it. You walk to class and dread it again, knowing it’s going to be soboring, such a waste of time, and you’ll give up on taking notes after half an hour because you can’t focus.
You’ll sit on the opposite side of the room as before. You won’t glance his way. You’ll keep your eyes up front and when class is dismissed, you’ll bolt.
As you walk into the classroom, the first thing you notice is that you beat him here. That hasn’t happened since the first time you met him, and you tell yourself that if you cared,you would find it weird.
You make yourself comfortable on the other side of the room, pulling out your notebook even though it will be another unsuccessful day of paying attention. Glancing at the clock, you sigh when you realize there’s still eight minutes before this shit even starts. With a sigh, you bury your head in your phone, texting Bryn, who is already at work.
You’re still closing with me tonight, right??
She replies almost instantly with two separate messages.
Yes!!
Campbell just came by. Asking for you. I told him you took your tips and moved to Hawaii.
You roll your eyes at that. Campbell, your ex and second least favorite person in the world – beaten only by Jamie – sniffs around the bar when he’s bored, wanting a quick fuck or to brag about his new girl. Or his new car. Or his new house–
“Excuse me,” a voice pulls you out of your phone, “Is that seat taken?”
Of course, you think. Of course he wouldn’t have given up.
You know not to look at those baby blue eyes. You know, and yet, you do it anyway. Your throat constricts at the sight of him, no hat today, but a smile just as wide as ever.
“What are you doing?” you ask sharply.
He raises a teasing brow, “Well, when you enroll in a class, you have to come in and take a seat–”
“Don’t patronize me,” you snap.
He snickers and points to the seat beside you, silently asking again if he can sit.
“Lindsay’s in my seat,” he expounds, “And, given your ragingjealousy–”
“Excuse me?”
“Y/N, you never even let me explain,” he sighs, “She’s in my Economics class. She was asking for advice on her presentation, and I told her I was saving that seat, so she promised to get up when you got to class. Problem is, you barely even looked my way when you came in.”
You clench your jaw, “You don’t owe me an explanation. It’s not like I was expecting you to save me a seat, anyway–”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he teases, “You seemed pretty offended at Black Boar last week.”
“In order to be offended, I’d have to care,” you snap back.
He smirks then, running a hand through his hair. You’re vastly aware of the fact that the room is filling up, and as the seconds tick by, you know it’s more and more likely he’s going to end up sitting beside you. This fact, as much as it should bother you, doesn’t seem to, because he knowswhere Lindsay is sitting, yet isn’t concerned about going over to her.
“Please?” he murmurs, his blue eyes beading into yours and working you exactly where he wants you.
Breaking eye contact with him, you sigh and give in, tucking your knees into your chest and motioning with your hand for him to enter the row. He grins and passes you quickly, settling himself into the seat without wasting a second.
“No talking,” you decide, “And no smiling. Or looking at me.”
Rafe laughs, but is quick to drop it when you narrow your eyes. He clears his throat and sits up straight, unpacking his laptop and his notebook. You unlock your phone and revel in the silence, almost in disbelief that he’s actually listening to you. When your text chain with Bryn fills your screen, you type your reply.
Did he buy it?
She replies, No. Sitting at the bar, waiting on you. Guess he knows you never miss a Friday night.
You groan internally, trying to think of a good enough excuse to call out of your shift tonight. With Jamie, you know he won’t take anything less than you being in a coma, and even then, it’s still a fifty-fifty shot he won’t fire you.
You barely register Rafe tear out a page from his notebook, putting the boy out of your mind completely as the professor starts to speak. Just his voice seems to be enough to put you to sleep at this point. That is, until a certain boy slides a certain piece of paper onto your desk, distracting you completely.
You glare at him out of the corner of your eye, unfolding it with hesitance.
Hi. This is me not talking. Or looking at you. Or smiling – which is a weird rule. I’ll follow it, though. Who’s Campbell?
Your jaw drops at the idea of him looking at your phone over your shoulder. When you look at him, your disdain prominent, he keeps his eyes forward. However, you can’t help but notice his lips twitching upward, threatening to break one of your rules.
You scribble down on his notebook paper with your pen, making your words big and bold.
No looking at my phone. And NO passing notes.
He chuckles at the note when he reads it, and against your better judgment, your lips tip upward at the sound. You try your best to focus on what is being taught, but a fire ignites in your stomach when that same piece of folded up paper slides onto your desk.
Do I get to make any rules? Since you now have five?
You get one, you reply.
He grins and quickly writes down whatever he’s thinking, and when you read it, you practically choke on your own spit.
You have to tell me who Campbell is.
That’s not a rule – that’s a demand, you write.
He replies, Deflecting. Do you enjoy leaving me in suspense or what?
You snort at that, listening to him laugh softly beside you. The girl in front of you turns her head and glares at the two of you, which only makes Rafe laugh more. He nudges your elbow with his and nods his head at her when you look at him, as if asking ‘did you see that?’. You just roll your eyes in response, then look back down at the note.
New rule: no asking questions about my life. I need to focus. Stop.
You know it’s harsh, but the way your stomach is starting to swirl with every response has you knowing it’s time to pull away. You slide the piece of paper back to him and watch as he opens it with a smile, which immediately falls when he reads it. You straighten your glance out after that, wholeheartedly focusing on what is being said and taking careful notes as you do. After a few minutes, Rafe does the same, typing quietly on his laptop beside you.
Class remains that way; the two of you working in silence, you pretending Rafe isn’t there, and avoiding looking at him every time he looks over at you.
Your professor dismisses class two minutes early, and you’re quick to shove all of your belongings into your bag and stand.
“Whoa, hang on, Y/N–” Rafe tries, but you walk off before he can object any further.
Your pace is fast, but not fast enough, because you just make it out of the building when he catches up to you.
“Y/N,” he calls, “Just give me one minute–”
“What?” you groan, turning around to face him, “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” he blurts, then backpedals, “I mean – I just thought, y’know, after the whole exam thing–”
“What?” you laugh sarcastically, watching his face fall, “You thought you could buy a friend just because you did me a favor? I’ve told you I appreciated what you did for me, and I do, but if you think for one second that making me owe you one could make us friends, you’re way past wrong.”
He holds his hands up in defense, shaking his head rapidly. You just sigh, glancing anywhere but him.
“That’s not at all what I was saying,” he defends, “Or trying to do when I helped you out. I just thought that after that, maybe we could at least be civil. You know, you wouldn’t hate me, we could exchange notes, I could come to the bar without getting a death glare when I order.”
You furrow your brows, “I served you before this class?”
He nods slowly, “I thought you were going to poison my drink, that’s how mad you looked when I ordered. When you sat beside me a few weeks ago, I thought maybe I could win you over. But, clearly, all I’m doing is fucking bothering you, so, I’m just gonna take off. If you ever want to study or anything, my number’s in the class group chat. Otherwise, you win. I’ll stay out of your bar, out of your way. See you around, Y/N.”
Your eyes fall the second he finishes speaking, lips parting but no words left in you to say. He turns then, walking away without glancing back even once.
You draw back after a moment, then turn and walk the opposite direction, feeling nothing but guilt and a sense of sadness you just can’t seem to place.
The bar is relatively empty by the time you arrive at work; a few early college students who will be on the ground by eleven tonight, a few older adults who are trying to miss the crowd, and Campbell.
His lips turn up into a wicked grin when he sees you round the bar. He really does look good, but you would never admit that to anyone but yourself. Campbell’s good looks and charm are what drove you to him in the first place, but the relationship itself lasted two months. Campbell had been cheating on you for half of it, but hiding it behind expensive gifts, dinners, and two trips out of the country. He’d taken you to Italy after two weeks or dating (where he proceeded to fuck six different models in the five days you spent there), and then Greece just a week before the two of you broke up (he slept with multiple women there, too).
To say the man lives and thrives off of his money would be an understatement. He’s the same as Jamie – sleazy, spineless, and willing to throw money at anything that will solve his current problem.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets you, smug smirk on his face, “I kind of figured you weren’t in Hawaii.”
You roll your eyes, “What do you want, Campbell?”
“Same thing I always want,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his whiskey.
“Meaningless sex and cocaine?” you guess sarcastically.
“Clever,” he laughs, “No. I want you. I’ll wait for you to finish your little shift here, then we can–”
“Fuck off,” you stop him, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He lets out another laugh, but you can tell by the way he clenches his jaw that you’re pissing him off.
“Let’s not make any irrational decisions,” he lectures you, “Especially when I’m willing to sit here and watch you flash these motherfuckers your tits all night just to make a few bucks–”
“Campbell, I swear to God,” you interrupt, “I am not in the fucking mood today. Finish your drink and get out.”
Bryn walks up behind you, back from her break, which stops Campbell from whatever he was about to say. Clearly, it wasn’t fit for two different sets of ears.
“You’re still here?” she questions Campbell with the raise of her brow.
“I’m not leaving without Y/N,” he tells her.
She snorts, “You’re leaving in handcuffs, then. Walk away, why don’t you?”
Campbell just shakes his head, draining his glass of the whiskey inside.
“Get me another, sweetheart. You know I’ll tip you big.”
When he winks at you, your stomach twists. Not in the same way it does with Rafe; this is more sickening.
Rafe.As you make Campbell’s drink, you replay the argument in your head. How you’d accused him of trying to buy you when all he did was help you out – already crucifying him before getting to know one thing about him. As you look back up at Campbell, finding his snake eyes already on you, you realize that heis why you did it. Your fear of being used, being bought, being someone’s plaything, came out when Rafe has given you absolutely zero reason to believe that’s what he’s after.
“Shit,” you mutter under your breath.
Bryn steps closer to you, trying to get you to look her in the eye. She’s checking on you, you know she is.
“Y/N,” she says quietly, “Please don’t–”
“I’m not leaving with him,” you tell her.
“Good. Then what has your face looking like that?”
You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, keeping your eyes on her while you slide Campbell’s drink to him.
“I kind of messed up with–”
“Sweetheart,” Campbell calls, “This isn’t how I like it.”
Your hands ball up at your sides as you slowly turn around, your eyes narrowing at him once you see his smirk.
“What?”
He slides the drink back to you, “You knowhow I like it.”
His eyebrows raise suggestively, making Bryn gag behind you.
“That’s fucking sick,” she mutters to you, “I’m going to get Jamie.”
She escapes before you can protest, but you dump Campbell’s drink and make him a new one anyway. You’re sure it will get busy soon, and then he’ll get bored and find some poor girl to prey on. Or, Jamie will have suddenly grown a heart and will kick him out.
Campbell opens his mouth to speak just as Jamie and Bryn round the corner.
“Just make him leave,” Bryn mumbles to Jamie, pointing at Campbell.
“Oh, shit,” Jamie laughs, “Should’ve known it was youjust by the complaint.”
You frown as they shake hands and catch up like old friends, and when Campbell winks at you, some part of you feels helpless. You’d known since you first met Campbell that Jamie would never have your back when it comes to his harassment, but it still seems to disappoint you every time.
Bryn takes the opportunity to snag you away by the elbow, pulling you out of an earshot from the men.
“Are you gonna be okay dealing with him?” she asks.
You nod, “I have no choice. It’s fine, okay?”
“Okay,” she says quietly, “Is Rafe coming by tonight?”
You’d told Bryn his name after she begged you, and you’d laughed when she said it suited him perfectly. You shake your head at her question, watching her face fall.
“No. I kind of yelled at him today.”
“You did what?” she gasps, “I swear, Y/N, your ability to self-sabotage is astounding. That’s why I’m keeping a close eye on you later and making sure you go home alone.”
“Shut up,” you groan, “I’m going to make it right.”
“You better. He’s our best customer,” she teases.
The night improves, only because it gets busy and you lose sight of Campbell for a while. You can still feel his dark, looming presence in the room, but as long as he stays out of your way, you really couldn’t care less.
Around midnight, your mood seems to improve. Tips are flowing in and the level of busy is just where you like it. You’re hopeful that you’ll be able to escape around two, but with the tips you’re making, you’d be happy if it stayed this busy.
Suddenly, as if you can sense those blue eyes on you, you look up from the shots you’re pouring.
In all his glory, Rafe Cameron leans against the bar, shot in hand, and darts his eyes away from you the second you catch him staring. You suck in a deep breath and hand out your shots, then step toward him. You watch as Rafe throws his shot back, his eyes meeting yours the second he brings his head back down.
You notice his dilated pupils first. Then his slacked jaw. Although, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. That is, until he speaks.
“Shit, y’know, ‘m not stalking you,” he slurs, “M’friends wanted to come’n here, and who am I t’ruin the party?”
“Rafe,” you say calmly, “You’re drunk.”
“M’not drunk,” he argues, shaking his head, “You’re drunk.”
You laugh before you can help it, which makes him smile; the one you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about no matter how much you tried.
“You’resodrunk,” you tease him.
“Am not,” he pouts, leaning on the bar, and by default, closer to you.
“Are so. It’s okay. At least you’re not a sloppy drunk.”
He lets out a laugh, “Nah. I make it look good.”
“You do,” you blurt, freezing for half a second before brushing the comment off completely.
Rafe breaks out into a grin, one you swear stops your heart in your chest for a moment.
“Are you flirting with me?” he asks.
“No,” you stand up straight, “You’ve been overserved. Back off my bar.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” he groans, “Don’t push me back right as I make progress. I’m trying here, Y/N–”
“What seems to be going on here, sweetheart?”
Your eyes squeeze shut at the image of Campbell planting himself on the bar beside Rafe. The absolute polar opposites of each other; Campbell’s drunk and seemingly territorial, while Rafe is drunk and has absolutely no idea what is happening at this moment.
“Sweetheart?” Rafe repeats.
“No,” you shake your head at Rafe, then turn to Campbell, “I’m not serving you. Fuck off.”
Campbell smirks, “That’s no way to talk to a customer, is it? Maybe I should run that attitude of yours by Jamie.”
“Campbell–” you sigh, but Rafe is quick to interrupt.
“Oh, shit,” he explodes, smiling, “You’reCampbell. Nice to meet you, bro. I’m Rafe. Cameron. I’m in one of Y/N’s classes. Let me ask you something, is she always so–”
“Rafe,” you snap, “Please don’t.”
“Pleasedo,” Campbell urges, smirking at you.
Rafe looks over at you and catches on something in your expression, making him stop. His eyebrows furrow and slowly, he looks back over to Campbell.
“Who are you, exactly?” he asks.
“I’m the guy taking her home tonight. Take a walk,” Campbell grunts at Rafe, nodding his head away from the bar.
Rafe stumbles back, as if Campbell’s words have physically struck him. When he looks at you, the expression on his face is unreadable.
“He’s not,” you explain weakly.
“Water,” Rafe demands hoarsely.
It takes you a second to process it, finding that to be a strange response for the situation. However, you do as asked, sliding the water over the bar to him. Rafe thanks you quietly, then takes down about half the bottle in one second. When he straightens his head out again, somehow, he looks entirely more sober than he had before.
“Oh, Y/N,” Campbell chuckles, “It’s not even one in the morning and your little college boy is throwing in the flag. How cute.”
You shake your head, “Something tells me he’s a better man than you ever will be.”
Rafe smiles at that, keeping eye contact with you and ignoring Campbell completely, whose jaw is clenched tight.
Out of the corner of your eye, Jamie’s waving at you to try and get your attention. When you glance over, he aggressively points at customers who have yet to be served, then narrows his eyes at the smiling blonde boy in front of you. You step in front of Rafe instinctually, nodding to Jamie to tell him you’ll get back to work.
You begin to step away without a word, but Rafe’s voice draws you right back.
“Y/N,” he calls, watching you turn, “Let me know when your shift’s over. I’ll walk you to your car.”
Campbell’s jaw wounds tighter at that, and you can’t help but smile. He grins at the sight, giving you a small head tip.
Summary: A series based on ‘Where Were You in the Morning’ by Shawn Mendes.
Word count: 1,389
Warnings: underaged drinking (lmk if I missed anything else.
You sat on a tree stump at the beach, by yourself only having a red solo cup in your hand. Your new friend had invited you to come join her at this party, but you soon realized she either didn’t show up, or ditched you for someone else.
You told yourself you would go interact with people after you had finished your first drink, but the closer you got to finishing it the more nervous you got. Hearing a harsh sloshing sound coming towards you, you looked up to see an attractive brunette boy, walking towards you with the keg in his hands. You furrowed your eyebrows together as he plopped it in the sand right in front of you.
“You did not just carry a whole keg to me.” You laughed as the boy sat next to you. “ I had to do something. You look absolutely miserable and I can tell you’re dreading the fact that you’d probably go socialize even though you don’t want to.” He grinned, pointing down to your empty cup. “Am I right?” You chuckled as you watched him pour you another drink.
Your eyes flickered up to him and you took in his appearance. He had a blue bandana around his neck, fluffy and shiny brunette hair, a soft smile on his lips. He had a button down shirt with only the last few buttons done. He was fairly tan and ripped underneath his shirt. His hair was wavy, with small curls on the ends of the tips. His eyes were brown as the shadows, but like honey in the lights.
“Y/F/N Y/L/N.” You introduced yourself, his large hand gripped your small one. “John B.”
“So why are you here all alone? You look like the type to have a lot of friends.” You smiled at his words, watching as John B ran his hands through his hair, a smile on his face. He noticed how gorgeous you were, which lured him towards you when he saw you alone. “I moved here about a week ago and I made friends with this one girl Camille and she told me I should come tonight but she kinda just… never showed up.” You purse your lips, taking another sip from your drink.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Screw her, you got a better friend now!” John B grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You nodded as you gently leaned into his touch. “And an attractive one.” You mumbled as his jaw jokingly dropped. “You think I’m attractive?” He gasped, covering his mouth with his hand. You pulled away from his grasp, your heart racing at the sound of his laugh.
The joking tone immediately turned tense as John B took in how beautiful you really were. “I uh- would you wanna get out of here?” He offered. You nodded your head, letting John B lead you by the hand to his vehicle.
The ride back to his house was short, the two of you chatting about yourselves and things you liked. He pulled into his yard, putting the van to a stop. As he escorted you out of the vehicle, he grabbed your hand in his, leading you to the front door.
John B invited you into his house, which already gave you a warm welcome. “Welcome to Casa De John B. Also known as the chateau." He laughed as he spread his arms out, presenting his residence. "It’s so… homey in here” you smiled. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” JB smiled, tapping on the doorway frame.
“Sorry for the mess, I made pancakes earlier and forgot to clean up.” He mumbled, mentally cursing at himself for not fixing up his house.
You rested against the counter, “I make the best pancakes ever.” You proudly spoke. He raised his eyebrows as a smirk danced across his lips.
“I guess you’ll have to make them for me in the morning.” You turned your head toward the floor, hoping he wouldn’t catch the pink color on your cheeks. “I promise that you will be able to taste the most amazing pancakes tomorrow morning.” You leaned forward and adjusted your shirt that was slowly riding up.
John B noticed you were uncomfortable and offered you a pair of clothes. “I would really appreciate that.” He walked into his room and returned a minute later with a t-shirt and shorts.
“The bathroom is down the hall to the right, when you’re done I’ll be in the backyard.” You nodded and walked to the bathroom. Tugging the shorts and tank top off your body, you slipped on his large shirt and shorts.
You folded up the clothes, leaving them on the seat by the kitchen island and walked towards the backyard. John B, too had changed into a more comfortable outfit. He was setting up wood in a fire pit.
He looked up when he heard you rustling in the grass, his smile instantly glowed in the night. “I was thinking we could look at the stars, if that’s alright. I don’t want to sound too cliche-”
You stopped him mid sentence, “I love star gazing.” Smiling, he nodded his head towards a large hammock that was tied between two trees. Getting the hint, you climbed in and watched him finish setting up the wood. He used a lighter to ignite the wood, your eyes were drawn to his hands that for some reason you found attractive.
He walked over to the hammock and laid himself next to you, his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders. Your body instinctively leaned towards him. Your arm was draped across his stomach, head on his chest allowing you to hear his rather fast heartbeat. There was something blissful about the surroundings.
You could hear the firewood crackling, the crickets in the nearby bushes, the sounds of small waves echoed by the dock. You could hear his shallow breath as he exhaled through his nose. His heartbeat remained at a fast pace the entire time.
You two stayed like that for a bit, just relaxing in the night. You looked up at John B, noticing his face was beaming. He turned his head down towards you, his eyes staring into yours. “The stars are reflecting and shimmering in your eyes, and I can’t help but be attracted to that.”
His eyes flickered from yours, down to your lips. You two both began slowly inching forward, he propped himself up on his elbow. He leaned his head down and attached his lips to yours.
To begin with, it was a soft, subtle kiss, just to see how it was. Neither of you wanted to pull away, you didn’t want it to end. However, at some point you both slowly pulled away and admired the look in each other’s eyes. You guys knew you both wanted each other, and there was nothing holding you back.
He reconnected your lips with his, dancing with hers, as if you had practiced a specific routine hundreds of times.
His tongue licked across your bottom lip, begging for access to the rest of your mouth. You granted him permission as his tongue fought with yours. John B pulled away for a moment to adjust himself to get more comfortable.
But the hammock that held you had different plans. As he was about to kiss you again, the hammock flipped around, knocking you both to the ground. You hid your face in your hands, giggling like you were on top of the world, cause that’s how you felt.
John B was next to you, his face buried in the grass, he was laughing with you at the mishap. He flipped his head up, looking at you, crinkles by his eyes indicated he was smiling.
Whenever he smiled you felt like the world was a better place. Like even though there’s so much bad around, there’s always going to be safety with him. In that one action, you felt like you have seen every inch of his kind, pure hearted soul.
Running your hand through his hair, you two laid there for a bit, your lips still tingling from his touch. “Wanna go inside?” He asked, leaning his head into the palm of your hand. You smiled at him, nodding your head yes.
Lost Sweater: Alternative Universe where when one person loses something, their soulmate receives it.
Safe Haven:Kie arrives at your house, shaken up and wounded. You take care of her, letting her know she’s gonna be okay.
Three Bodyguards: Kiara deals with a serious issue, not wanting to bother her Pogues she distance herself from them until they get the truth out of her.
My Hero:Kie takes you out of the house after you’ve been studying, making sure this is a night to ease your mind.
John B Routledge
Hazel Brown:AU where your world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate, then everything turns into color.
Stress Release:Friends with benefits; Two friends who trust each other enough to engage in sexual activity without fear of hurting the other’s feelings.
If The World Was Ending: Inspired by If The World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Julia Michael’s + Laying On My Porch While We Watch The World End by Powfu.
Sarah Cameron
Playdate in the Rain:You and Sarah decide to run in the rain in her backyard like you did in the past, opening up about how you really feel.
Overnight stay:Instead of the boys leaving Kie with Sarah on a boat overnight, they to let you two get rid of your grievances first.
Topper Thornton
Lazy Day:You and Topper decide to spend some more time together after a lazy day.
Summary: you finally tell Rafe the truth as to why you don’t want to go to parties anymore.
Word count: 1,039
Warnings: mentions of sexual assault and harrassment, underage drinking. If you are not comfortable with these topics please do not read.
I’m just saying this now if you ever need to speak to somebody about certain topics please do not be afraid to ask for help. Call or text hotlines, talk to somebody. You are not alone.
You laid down, back against your bed and fluffy blanket. Isolated. That was all you felt in life for since the beginning of freshman year of high school. You had one friend who had been there since the beginning, Rafe Cameron. Rafe was one of the best things to have ever happened to you. He would always come over when you called, even when you didn’t he would always come over to check on you. He would bring your food and ice cream when you had your period. He treated you like you were somebody, and that’s all you could ask for.
It was a Friday night of your senior year, everyone at the ‘beginning of the last year’ party at some girl’s house. Rafe wanted you to come, but he knew how you felt about those things. He instead joined you this night, plopping himself onto your bed.
“You know if you really wanted to go to that party, you could have gone.” You spoke to him after a few seconds of silence, sitting up from your position to look at him.
“But if you’re not there I’m not interested.” Rafe declared, offering you a soft smile. You knew he was lying, you knew he wanted to go out, drink and have fun. You never explained to him why you hated parties or gatherings. You always just said you weren’t feeling well or had other things to do.
“I don’t want to party anymore Rafe, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, looking down, playing with the hem of your shirt.
“Y/N why won’t you just come out to party for once? The last time we went to one was like in freshman year when we hung out with Kelce.” Rafe brought up, you uncomfortably shifted in your spot.
He began listing off reasons aloud as to why you would not want to go. As much as you loved him, he was oblivious to many things, especially emotions.
“Was it because you drank?"
"Rafe-”
“Because you were nervous?”
“Ra-”
“Because you broke your curfew?”
“Rafe. Stop-”
“Was it because you hooked up with Kelce?”
“Rafe!"
You had enough as you yelled out. He visibly flinched at the sound of you yelling. "I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to get you upset.” He whispered.
“It’s fine. But I want you to know I didn’t 'hook up’ with Kelce.” You nervously stated. He furrowed his eyebrows together. “What do you mean? I mean, he told his friends all about it."
"You’ve only heard his side of the story. You never asked for mine.” Your heart was pounding a mile a minute. Your mouth all of a sudden felt dry, your hands slowly began to shake.
“What do you mean?” He asked, shifting towards you.
You sighed softly as you stopped the eye contact with him.
“The beginning of the year party. It was you, me, Kelce, Topper and a group of other people. When we were all in the basement playing the drinking games I told you I had to go to the bathroom. So I went back upstairs, but I didn’t know Kelce followed me. I went into the bathroom and did my thing. When I went to wash my hands Kelce walked in and at first he was like, "oh I’m sorry.” But then he entered and closed the door behind him.“ You tried your best not to stumble over your words, but you never spoke about this to anyone.
"He-he cornered me in there. His breath smelled like straight vodka, god I can still smell it. He tried kissing me but when I denied him, he got mad. I went to smack him but I ended up scratching his face, that’s where he got the marks from. Not from me being 'rough in bed’. He forced my hands against my sides.. and he just kept kissing me. He kept saying how I 'wanted this’. He kept kissing my lips, my cheeks, my chest, my neck. I felt helpless in that span of 30 seconds, it felt like 2 hours.” You admit, your body shaking with every raspy breath you take. You never thought about talking about it, let alone to another guy. You always thought no one would believe you. Rafe sat there in bewilderment that all of this happened so long ago to you, his best friend. It crushed his heart and made his blood boil to know that Kelce did it.
“He pushed his body against mine but he was angled to the point where I could knee him and get away. It could have been much worse, but ever since then I just… I can’t do it. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t like parties or even gatherings. I can’t.” You stopped talking, only to realize your body had been shaking and tears were easily streaming down your face.
“And everytime you were with him and he would make a comment about me, you wouldn’t say anything. When he said that he would be the only guy to touch me, you didn’t say anything. You made me feel like I’m not good enough. You didn’t say a single thing.” You finished. Rafe rubbed his hands over his face, taking in every word you just said.
“God next time I see him I’m gonna wrap my hands around his throat.” Rafe was furious at Kelce and himself for not even asking you what happened. “I’m so sorry Y/N I didn’t say anything. He’s- was my friend who was a part of the popular group and I just wanted to fit in. I didn’t even think about how that affected you and I’m so fucking sorry. Come here.”
Rafe leaned against the headrest of the bed and opened his arms up. You slowly but surely laid into his arms, you started to weep. Nobody had ever held you like this, but Rafe knew you needed it more than ever. “Shhh. It’s okay princess, I’m right here.” He whispered as he ran his fingers through your hair.
“I won’t ever let that happen to you again.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to your head as he rested his cheek on top of yours. “I’m right here."
“Can you do a prompt for JJ, where the store that he works at gets robbed and the robber shoots him and all the characters have to cope with the fact that JJ might die. I understand if you don’t want to xx
It was like any other day for JJ Maybank, he worked at a local retail store. He told you he wanted to pick up as many shifts as he could so he could spoil you. You told him that he didn’t need to shower you with things; just being with him made you happy enough. You kissed JJ and told him to have a good day before he left for work. Little did you guys know that everything was about to change.
It was a relaxing Tuesday morning, the store had a few customers in it. JJ and his coworker Amy stood behind the register as a man in a black sweatshirt and jeans walked in. "Good morning!” His coworker greeted the man who acknowledged them with a nod.
The man strolled down the isles slowly, one hand in his pocket and one hand picking up random object’s. He picked up a bag of chips and soda before walking up to the counter and placing it down. JJ was about to check him out before he pulled out a loaded pistol.
JJ’s eyes widened in fear, “give me everything you have in both registers.” The man demanded, customers that were near immediately ran out of the store and out to safety.
JJ held both hands up in surrender as the man made his way around the counter, his gun trained straight on Amy. “Okay, okay. I’m getting the money now.” JJ said as he opened one of the registers.
“Man hurry up!” The robber yelled as he suddenly began to fidget in his stance. JJ pulled out the cash and wrapped a rubber band around it. He made his way to the other register and opened it.
Instead of reaching for the money inside, he reached below the counter and grabbed a metal pipe that was stored there in case something like this were to happen. In what felt like a millisecond, JJ knocked the guy on the side of the head with the pipe.
“Amy, go!” JJ yelled as she jumped over the counter and out of the store, running around the building to see a couple cowering. “We called the police as soon as we left!” The woman said in tears, still terrified. Amy couldn’t catch her breath, she was mortified of what would happen; from a distance, sirens could be heard.
The robber groaned in pain as JJ tackled him to the ground, the gun flying across the floor. The two fought, JJ on top of the man, throwing punches at his face. The robber headbutted him, knocking him off as he scrambled for the gun.
Before JJ could process it, a loud shot filled the air and there was a sharp pain in his lower chest. Everything went in slow motion as another shot rang out, this time the bullet going into him under his peck.
JJ fell to the floor as he cried out in pain, curling up in a ball as his clothes began to soak in his own blood. The robber stared wide eyed at what he had done, but simply grabbed the money and ran out of the store, only to be stopped with a baton to the knee by the cops. Amy heard the gunshots go off, her heart dropping when she saw the robber only had bruises.
She ran in and saw JJ lying helplessly on the floor, clutching his wounds, his sobs filled her ears as she fell to her knees, her hands keeping pressure on his wounds. “Hey hey hey you’re gonna be okay. Help! Somebody fucking help him!” Amy screamed out as medics ran into the room with a stretcher.
The medics carefully picked the injured boy off of the ground and placed him onto the stretcher. Amy looked down at her hands, her head feeling dizzy when she saw the blood covering every inch of them.
“Y/N.” JJ mumbled as he was lifted into the ambulance. “She’ll be right there when you wake up Maybank!” Amy screamed out to him as she cried. Police officers came up to the girl and had to ask her questions about the events that had happened. She couldn’t properly form sentences, her mouth had gotten dry and she felt as if she was going to be nauseous.
“I have to get his girlfriend down to the hospital. Please.” Was the only words she could get out. The officers nodded as they finished their notes. “You can borrow his phone to make the call. You okay to drive?”
Amy blankly nodded as she was given the phone, her fingers dialing your number. It rang for a few seconds before you picked up.
“Hello?"
"Y/N you need to get down to the hospital right now.” Amy rasped as she anxiously tapped her foot. “Why? What happened? Are you okay?”
“JJ got shot.” Was all Amy could say. You stopped breathing for a second as you felt like everything stopped. Your face got pale, your brother noticed as he gathered around you. “What-what?” You asked, your voice hoarse and your eyes stinging with tears.
“We got robbed and he got shot twice in the chest. Please just meet me there.” You hung up the phone and let out a few shaky breaths before releasing the tears. You grabbed your keys and left your brother in the house without another word.
You sped down the empty roads, your foot pressed hard on the gas pedal and never eased up. You didn’t want to believe it, you didn’t want it to be real. Letting out loud cries, you pulled into the parking lot. You ran into the hospital, frantically looking for Amy.
You found the blonde sitting in a chair by herself in the corner. She stood up and ran up to you, embracing you in a tight hug. “What the fuck happened, where is he? How bad is it? Are you okay?” Your mouth spewed out all these questions before Amy could process a single one. Amy was still struck with fear as she took a deep breath.
“He’s in surgery now. A guy came in to rob us and JJ hit him with a metal pipe and he told me to leave. And I did. Y/N, I left him. If I didn’t leave him maybe he wouldn’t have been shot, maybe I would’ve-” Amy suddenly began rambling, thinking that this was her fault.
You held her shoulders tightly, “Amy, this was not your fault, okay? You did what you had to do, it’s your natural reaction to leave when something like this happens. It is not your fault.” You reassured her as more tears streamed down her face.
You and Amy held each other as they cried into each other’s shoulders. You sniffed as you pulled back, “I gotta call our family.” Amy nodded and got back to her seat in the corner.
You left the hospital and stood outside, trying to see if the fresh air would help you catch your breath. Your hands shook as you carefully dialed John B’s number, knowing the Pogues were at his house. It rang for a bit before John B picked up, “Pogue residence."
"Hey, could you put me on speaker?” You asked.
“Y/N! Where are you? Are you with JJ? You guys were supposed to be here an hour ago.” JB questioned as his friends gathered around him and his phone.
“I’m at the hospital. JJ got shot.” Your heart twisted as you spoke those words. The line went silent for a few seconds. “Guys?”
“We’re heading over now.” And with that, he hung up.
You sat in your seat anxiously next to Amy as you waited for the group of Pogues to come. Your emotions were everywhere, your eyes were puffy, nose a bright shade of red, lips chapped. You had lost your appetite, energy, and your happiness.
Pope, Kie, and John B ran in and saw the two girls, traumatized. They slowly walked up to them, “how bad is it?” Pope asked, his lip quivering.
“He’s in surgery now.” Amy said as you stared blankly at the floor. You wanted to speak, but you couldn’t find the right words to say. Nobody knew what to say. They all just sat there in silence, but all supporting each other with hugs and hand holding.
_____2 hours later_____
A doctor with a clipboard and papers walked out into the waiting room. “JJ Maybank?” She called out as the group of teens collectively stood up. She raised her eyebrows, “who’s the main one?”
Everyone turned their eyes to you. You stepped forward, feeling sick once again. “The surgery was completed and they successfully removed both bullets. He is resting now, however he is unconscious due to the fact that the one of the bullets was close to a major artery and he lost quite a bit of blood. You can see him whenever you’d like, we just ask one at a time.” The doctor spoke, you took in her words feeling blessed knowing that it was a success.
You let the others see him first, only to be able to see him last before you had to go home. You wanted to stay the rest of the day with him until the hospital didn’t allow visitors anymore. You sat in the uncomfortable chair as you picked at your nails. Your mind had a million thoughts running around and you couldn’t process any of them.
After what seemed like a lifetime, it was finally your turn to see him. Kie walked up to you and quickly threw her arms around you, allowing you to cry into each other’s necks. Pope and John B joined you guys, all being there to support each other. “Will you be okay if we head back to the chateau?” Kie asked, breaking the group hug. You nodded your head and wiped the tears on the back of your hand. John B gave you a quick peck on the forehead, “you can come over whenever you need, we’ll be right there for you.”
You nodded your head and gave Pope a hug before you watched your loved ones walk out the door. You turned around and began to make way to his room. Your legs suddenly felt as if they would crumble from underneath you.
You stood in front of the door, hand on the door knob shaking as you heard the sound of the beeping monitor. You took a deep breath before slowly opening the door. You covered your mouth with your hand as more tears flooded your eyes at the sight of JJ.
He had bruises on his face, his lower lip inflamed along with his left eye. He had a tube up his nose and in his mouth to help with his breathing. He was patched up, spots of his blood stood out from the white gauze wrapped around the wounds.
You sat in the chair next to him, your mouth gaping as you took in the sight of him. You slowly reached across the bed and lightly held onto his hand, afraid to hurt him anymore. “Oh God.” You sobbed out as you saw how pale his skin was.
You pressed a delicate kiss to his hand, holding it to your lips for a few seconds before taking it away, still holding it. Scooting the chair towards the bed, you rubbed your thumb across his knuckles. Your fingers softly ran through his hair. “I love you so much. God, I never thought this would happen. You know, even after fighting off Kooks and going on a treasure hunt.” You spoke as you sniffled, struggling to breathe. “The amount of times you have saved my dumbass. I wish I was there to save yours.” You mumbled.
You sat there for hours, afraid to leave his side. At times you would get a call or text from your friends, checking in on you and asking for updates. You rested your head on the side of the bed, eyes fluttering shut. You had gotten an hour worth of rest before you were woken up by the sound of the monitor. Looking up to see that there was a flat line. You choked on air as you swung the door open and screamed out, “I need a doctor in here now!"
You muffled your cries with your hands as doctors and nurses ran into the room. One nurse had to pull you out as you begged them to let you stay. "Hun. You need to go home and get some sleep. We’ll call you tomorrow as soon as we allow visitors.” The nurse calmly spoke as your knees buckled beneath you.
You fell to the ground as the nurse held you in her arms. “Please save him.” You begged as you remained on the cold white floor; the nurse couldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.
____________________________
You drove yourself to John B’s, your ears ringing as your chest hurt from heaving so hard. Your eyes were sore from crying and your voice was raspy.
You walked through the front door to see Kie and Pope fast asleep on the couch, you could only assume John B was asleep in his bed. You snuck out through the backdoor and made way to the hammocks. Your fingers skimmed the fabric before you sat down, shimmying into the pillows. Turning your head, you pictured JJ next to you with his arm around your shoulder.
Blinking, his image disappeared before your eyes; only causing your heart to ache more. You sat in silence, listening to the crickets as they chirped in the distance. Too focused on the sounds, you nearly fell to the floor as John B appeared to your side. You clasped your hand over your heart as he let out an apologetic laugh.
He took the spot next to you as you both stared at the moonlight reflecting off the waters. “He’s gonna be okay, he’s a strong motherfucker.” He reassured you, rubbing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You exhaled as the picture of him in that hospital bed reappeared in your head. “I love him, John B I can’t lose him.” You stated, voice just above a whisper.
“He loves you too. You know, recently he brought up the thought of marrying you.” Your head snapped towards your friend with your eyes wide. “What?” He realized what he said when it was too late, “ah shit I didn’t mean to actually say that.” You shook your head, “no, no it’s okay. What did he say about it?”
He turned to face you, tucking his legs criss crossed underneath him. “He said he loves waking up in bed with you by his side, it helps him smile everyday and helps get him out of bed. He’s thought about if you two would have kids, you guys would make little bedtime stories of the Pogues adventures together, but you know, kid friendly. How he can’t wait for you to have his last name, there was one time I caught him mumbling Y/N Maybank in his sleep.” Your cheeks turned a bright pink as John B told you everything, only realizing how much you’re in love with this boy.
“You mean the world to him Y/n, before he met you he used to just sleep around, smoke way more, sometimes drank till he passed out. But since he met you he’s changed in the best way possible. Hell, he even started wearing his seatbelt when he drove.” Wiping your tears on the back of your hand you grinned to yourself. “I’m so unbelievably in love with him.” John B flashed you a bright smile, glad two of his best friends found love within each other.
“You know he would want you to get some sleep, right?” You exhaled and stepped out of the hammock. “I hate when you’re right.” You muttered before offering a hand out to him. He stood up and walked back into his house, tiptoeing around Pope and Kie. You two stood in front of JJ’s room, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight Y/N.” He whispered. “Goodnight John B.”
You entered his room and shut the door, taking in the smell of his cologne that drifted through the air. You sat at the desk placed in the corner of his room, staring at the photos of you two that scattered his wall. You picked up a wallet sized picture of JJ kissing your cheek on your third date with him. Your whole body felt so drained it felt difficult to even breathe. You traced the shapes of the photo with your finger, “please be alive."
_________________________________
5 days later
Everyone had visited JJ in the hospital except his own father. Hell, even Kie and Pope’s family visited him. You were contemplating going to his dad and screaming at him, but Pope had to physically hold you back from doing that. You brought a new bouquet of flowers everyday, giving the old ones to the nurses and doctors that worked there.
You sat on the left side of the bed, holding his hand with your eyes fluttering shut every now and then due to your lack of sleep. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but you were numb and felt like a drained battery.
Your head snapped up when you suddenly felt JJ’s hand squeeze yours. You gasped as you nearly jumped from your chair. "Baby?” You asked softly. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open as he took a deep inhale of air. Your senses awakened as you let out a sigh of relief, a large grin displayed on your face.
“Y/N?” His mumbled, his voice scratchy. You found the control next to his bed and found the button for a doctor to come to the room immediately. You pressed a kiss to his hand as he held onto yours. “Hey baby. Hey, I’m right here, it’s okay.” You soothed him as you smiled at your boyfriend.
Doctors rushed in, pushing you out of the room saying they needed to check his vitals and see how stable he was. You sat outside the door against the wall, knees pulled up to your chest with your arms resting on your knees. You tilted your head up and closed your eyes, feeling beyond lucky that he was responsive.
After about twenty minutes, the doctor left the room to speak with you. “He’s very lucky, 1 more inch and that bullet would’ve hit a major artery. We want him to stay here just for a couple days to make sure he’s healing properly. After that he’s free to go home whenever.” You nodded your head and thanked him as he walked away.
You entered back into his room, standing next to the bed. “Come here, princess.” He mumbled as you bent down towards him, gently holding the non injured side of his face. He kissed you passionately, fingers intertwined in your hair. He carefully scooted over and patted the empty side of the bed for you.
You hesitantly got in next to him, being careful to avoid his wounds. You rested your head on his shoulder as he kissed your forehead. “I’ve missed you, so fucking much.” You muttered as you finally felt at peace being by his side again. “You can’t get rid of me that easily Y/L/N,” He joked as he pressed his lips to your hand, “You’re stuck with me forever.” He continued.
You remembered the conversation you had with John B a few nights before. “Sounds perfect to me.” He gave you that heart stopping grin of his before planting another kiss on your lip.
Request: hi❤ I was wondering if u could do the scene where the pogues see JJ’s bruises?
Word count: 2,455
Warnings: mentions of physical and verbal abuse.
“We gotta be done before my scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope explained to you and Kie as he pulled up to the back of the Chateau. “Okay, well, we gotta focus.”
“It’s gonna be fine. We got John B and JJ inside the well, and me up top. You, Y/N, and Sarah will be outside transporting.” Pope recalled the plan, exiting the truck.
They headed to the back of his vehicle, opening the back to grab their supplies. “That tin can hold up to like, 200-300 pounds.”
“Thanks.” Kie praised him as she unlatched the hinge.
“Uh, what for?”
“For stranding us. You know, making us make up.” Kie softly grinned as you stood next to her.
“Seriously Pope, you’re like the super glue for this group.” You complimented. “What makes you think that was me?”
Before Kie could respond, lines full of lights turned on, confusing the trio. A loud buzzing sound leading them towards the backyard.
“What the hell?”
You guys walked into the area, colored and festive lights hung everywhere. Inflatable palm trees chilled in the corner. JJ sat in a shiny new hot tub, popping a bottle of champagne open.
“JJ?” you asked as you walked up to the front of the hot tub. “What did you do, JJ” Pope asked in disbelief.
“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me? Salud!” JJ cheered to no one as he poured out a glass, only to drink straight from the bottle.
“How much did this cost?” Pope asked, already knowing the answer.
“Uh… well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery… pretty much all of it, yeah.” JJ’s words were slurred, clearly intoxicated.
Pope’s jaw fell open, “all of it?”
“Yeah, all of it.” JJ confirmed, pushing his sunglasses up. “You spent all the money in one day?”
“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket. But I mean like, come one guys, like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me.” JJ grinned at his actions. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, watching him take another drink from the bottle.
JJ noticed the look on your face, “Y/N, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in his life? Come on,” he flung his sunglasses off, “all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’. I mean like… guys, we- you only live once, right? Enough of this emotional shit. Get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on.”
“In the what?” Kie asked softly.
“In the Cat’s Ass. That’s what I named her.” JJ giggled to himself as he let the jets hit the back of his muscles.
“Oh, hey, yo, I almost forgot.” He leaned over and pressed a button, a disco ball lighting up and spinning around.
“Yeah, that’s right, I know. Disco mode. That’s right baby!” He cheered in excitement.
“Are you kidding me? You could have paid for restitution!” Pope raised his voice. “Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie snapped. “Guys…” You started, seeing the pain in JJ’s eyes.
“Or better yet you could’ve helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!” Pope continued as JJ rubbed his eyes.
“Okay well you know what? I didn’t do that.” JJ yelled back as he stood up from his spot, revealing the new red and purple marks that littered his chest. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands.
“I got a hot tub! For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No, screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family!” JJ cried out, his voice wavering. “I got this for you.” He pointed to the champagne bottle that was already half empty.
Your eyes welled up with tears, noticing just how broken JJ Maybank was. “Guys, look what I did for you! Alright? Look at this!”
“JJ…” your voice cracked, “no, you, you both stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?”
You marched up the steps of the hot tub, stopping at the first step, “come on Y/N, just get in.” You pulled the boy into your arms as you both cried against each other. His head rested on your stomach as you leaned your head down to rest on top of his.
“I just couldn’t do it.” JJ sobbed, his body shaking from the pain. He tightened his grip around your waist as you held him in your arms. One hand rubbed his shoulder while the other softly held onto the back of his head.
“I can’t take him anymore!” He screamed into your chest, “I was gonna kill him.”
“It’s okay baby, I got you. You’re safe with us.” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Kie and Pope joined you on the steps, wrapping the boy in a group hug. “I just wanna do the right thing.” He admitted, letting out a heartbreaking sob.
“We know.” Kie reassured him, “we know.”
One by one the friends let go of him, "you guys can finish up whatever you were doing, I’ll take care of him.” JJ refused to let go of your waist as your fingers softly rubbed his scalp.
‘I got this.’ You mouthed, your friends nodding their heads in acknowledgment. The two walked away to continue their plans, you slowly lifted JJ’s head up to look at you.
“Hey JJ, let’s get you out of here, is that okay?” You spoke softly. He nodded his head, slowly releasing you. You held his hand as you eased him out of the hot tub and down the steps.
“Stay right here, I’m gonna grab a towel.” JJ muttered a gentle 'okay’. Sniffing to clear his sinuses. Running inside the house, you yanked a towel off the bathroom rack and headed back outside.
You wrapped it around his waist before leading him inside by his hand. Entering the bedroom, you picked out a pair of boxers and shorts for him to change into. “Do you think you can change into this without my help?” You asked him, holding out the clothes.
JJ nodded his head as he stumbled across the hall into the bathroom. You stood on the outside of the door, harshly biting down on your tongue. You’ve never seen JJ so broken, so hurt, and you wished you had known he was dealing with this.
You felt guilt and anger for not knowing about this sooner. Whenever JJ appeared with a new bruise or cut, he always told her that he got into a brawl with a Kook. He lied to you for 7 years, you never caught on which killed you on the inside.
After a few minutes, JJ opened the door with the towel in his hands, and changed into dry clothes. “Can we go lay down?” He questioned, his words still slurred. “Yeah, of course hunny.”
He walked into the bedroom and sighed. Without thinking he plopped himself onto the bed, letting out a cry of pain as the bed hit his bruises.
Biting your bottom lip you asked, “do you want me to get you an ice pack?” He nodded his head, resting his hands on his eyes. Heading into the kitchen, you grabbed an ice tray, dumping some ice cubes out into a ziplock bag.
You walked back into the room, shutting the door quietly. JJ praised you as you handed him the bag of ice. He placed it on the biggest bruise he had. “Can you- can you stay with me? And play with my hair because honestly it makes me feel safe.” He admitted, not even processing what he was saying.
You sat down next to him, allowing him to rest his head in your lap. Your fingers found your way to his hair, letting them run through and massage his scalp. You sat in silence before he spoke up. “I really, really like you Y/N. Like Really.” He emphasized the final 'really’.
“I really, really like you too JJ.” You spoke the truth. “You know, these last few days have been crazy as fuck. You know you’ve been there. But the amount of times I almost lost you scared the shit out of me.” He confessed, his hand reaching up to place itself on your leg.
“And-and when we almost got shot at Crains, my soul nearly left my body. I want to keep you safe.” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you listened to his words.
“But I’m a fuck up and I don’t wanna ruin your life. I mean my own dad doesn’t want me, why would you?” His voice cracked. You reached your hand down towards his face to make him look at you.
“Hey, don’t say that JJ. You have made my life so much better in every single way possible. You show you care about me. You let me smoke with you so we both forget about our problems together. You taught me more shit about fishing than I knew. You can call me the worst names possible, but it doesn’t bother me because I do the same to you. It scares me how much I like you because in a snap you could be gone. Hell, when you got arrested I couldn’t sleep the night of.” You rambled on, realizing that maybe you had more than a silly crush on him.
“You’re cute when you ramble.” He muttered, grinning at the sound of your laugh, yawning loudly afterwards. “You ready to sleep hun?” You asked, a nod answering the question. You shifted a bit, laying down as he rested his head on your chest. You kissed the side of his head, feeling his arm around your waist slowly tighten its grip.
______________♡_____________
You woke up, and checked the clock reading the time, '9:36’. Turning your head, you saw JJ still passed out, his snoring filling the room. Carefully getting out of the bed, you walked outside into the backyard and headed straight to the hammock.
You sat alone peacefully, the smell of the waters filled the air, the sounds of birds chirping softly echoed, and the feeling of a cool breeze skimmed your tan skin, sunglasses covering your eyes from the sun. Footsteps came up from behind you, a figure plopped itself down next to you.
A groan emitted from JJ’s mouth, shutting his eyes from the blinding sunlight. “How’s the hangover?” You asked, handing over the sun glasses. “Feels like I have forks jammed in my head. Thanks.” He grabbed the sunglasses, quickly putting them on.
“Do you remember anything from last night?” You asked, fiddling with your thumbs. “Uhhh, I remember almost falling into the bathtub when I was changing. And then- oh…” he trailed off remembering parts of the conversation you had.
The two sat in silence again as JJ rested his hand on your thigh. “I wish I could’ve stopped that from happening.” You broke the silence, your voice wavering at the image in your head of his bruises.
JJ shook his head, “No, no you-you do enough for me. I feel like I don’t deserve you.” He whispered the last part. Your heart clenched at his confession. “JJ, you are the best part of my life.” Your hand cupped his, looking at the boy who lifted up the sunglasses.
“I want to be able to take you on dates and treat you like a princess and buy you everything you could ever want. But I’m a Pogue, that could never happen.” He clenched his jaw, knowing deep down you deserve someone who could give you anything you wanted.
“JJ, I’m literally a Pogue too. I don’t care if you don’t have money because guess what? I don’t either. That doesn’t change the fact that I love you. Just being with you makes me feel safe.”
JJ’s mouth slightly fell open, allowing those three words to sink in. You realized what you had said before it was too late. Your facial expressions matched his as you quickly looked down at your hands. They sat there, trying to process the words you just said.
Stress flooded through your body as you waited for his response, only to continue to sit in silence. “I know that was just kinda thrown at you but please just be my best friend right now and not the guy I just confessed my love to.” You spoke up, killing the silence.
“I don’t want to be your best friend.” He started, instantly making your heart drop into your stomach. “What?” You whispered, continuing to crack your knuckles.
“I don’t want to be your best friend. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to take you out on dates. I want to do those weird face masks with you. I want to do any cliché shit you want to do. I want to do anything and everything with you. I want you to be my girlfriend so whenever we go to parties I can be like, 'this is my girlfriend’ and show you off. I want more than just being best friends.” He said, reaching over with his hand to hold the bottom of your chin.
JJ looked down at your lips before glancing back up to your eyes. Your heart rate picked up, “kiss me.” You assured him, turning to face him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you both leaned in, connecting your lips gently. JJ grinned into the passionate kiss, not being able to handle the butterflies in his stomach.
You pulled back to catch your breaths, resting your foreheads against each other before you returned to your original position. He slung his arm around your shoulder, leaving you space to rest your head on his chest. You beamed as he used his index finger to rub up and down on your arm.
“Remember back in freshman year during homecoming, I asked you to dance with me to 'The Night We Met’?” JJ tilted his head down towards you, locking eyes. You nodded your head in response. “John B and Pope hyped me up for at least an hour to encourage me to ask you. And when you had your head on my chest and I just held you, it felt like we were the only two people alive. And I loved that feeling, I don’t want it to ever go away."
Your smile got wider, remembering the moment as if it were yesterday. "It won’t.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before falling back into a comfortable silence.
“Just making sure… we are dating right?” JJ spoke up earning a chuckle from you. “Yes. Yes we are.”
Summary: after a stressful week you and Rafe are finally able to relax together.
Word count: 777
Warnings: none
A/N: hi! I just wanted to say if you sent in a submission I’m still working on it! I had to go visit my uncle who lives 2 states away from me and I haven’t had much time to write. I found this in my drafts and decided to post it! Love you guys xx
Rafe Cameron held you close in his arms as the sunlight entered through your curtains, blinding his sight. It was only 3 in the afternoon and the couple decided to take a nap due to their long work hours. He groaned in pain as you woke up to his noises, as soon as you opened your eyes you yelped in pain as the brightness took over your vision.
“Here.” Rafe clamped his hand over your eyes, shielding the light from entering your sight. “Is this okay?” He asked as he held his hand in place. “It would’ve been okay if you didn’t poke me in the eye.” You laughed out as you removed his hand to rub your eye.
You sat up in the bed and stretched, your bones emitting a loud popping sound. Rafe went into the bathroom to comb his hair back as you changed into normal clothes. Instead of finding a normal pair of shorts, you grabbed a clean pair of your husband’s boxers and lazily threw them on. Then put on a large plain grey t-shirt that fell loose around your thighs.
Walking to the kitchen, you began grabbing bowls for you two to eat cereal. Standing on your tiptoes, you reached your arm up high in an attempt to grab hold of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Is that my underwear?” Rafe spoke from behind you, your reflexes kicking in before you could process it was your husband.
Your elbow flung back and nailed him right in the torso, forcing him to hunch over and groan in pain. You covered your mouth in shock as you held his shoulders. “Oh my god Rafe I’m so sorry!” You repeated over and over as he sat himself down at the table, still clutching his ribs.
“You know, last time you spooked me from behind I dropped to the ground. How is my wife more badass than me?” Rafe mumbled, recalling the time you called his name from behind him. He merely let out a shriek and his legs collapsed from under him.
You two spent the rest of your night cuddling on the living room couch, your legs intertwined as Rafe held his wife in his arms. “Today was such an easy day but I feel like I’ve been awake since 2 a.m.” you mumbled as you snuggled your face into the crook of your husband’s neck.
“I’m happy we finally got one day of peace.” He smiled down at you, pressing his lips to your forehead. You sadly got up from the comfortable position to go to the restroom. As you stood up, you raised your arms high to stretch.
Your stomach now clearly showed, his boxers exposed. “You know I never got to tell you this, because you elbowed me in the ribs, but you look hot in my boxers and shirt.” Rafe smirked at you. “Alright Cameron, keep it in your pants.” You laughed, walking to the bathroom.
You did what you had to do and washed your hands. Your fingers running through your hair to smooth down any fly aways. You two had been married for almost a year, dated for 3 years prior to that. But no matter how long you were together or where you were, you would do little things to try to fix your appearance. Whether it be fixing your hair or maybe even applying mascara, you wanted to look good mostly for yourself. Rafe was always by your side hyping you up with your appearance.
You walked out of the bathroom and back into the living room. You two resumed the cuddles, Rafe spooning your body. Everything was quiet, the only sound heard was the audio coming from the TV. You sighed in content as you slowly shut your eyes. “I feel like I should be tired, but I also feel like I could run a marathon. Okay that’s a lie I can’t run for shit but you get the idea.” Rafe mumbled in your ear as he held you closer to him.
“You know, if you can’t sleep we could have sex.” You joked to the boy, who actually took it seriously. As soon as those words left your mouth he released you and began to pull his pants down. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “For all things holy please put your penis away. I was joking babe. Okay maybe not. But not right now. We spent money on these damn movies so help me we’re watching them."
Rafe couldn’t help but laugh at his wife’s attitude. He honestly couldn’t care what they did as long as they were together.
A/n: Thank you guys so much for all the likes on my pouge princess blurb This has really helped rekindle my love for writing and I can’t wait to share more with everyone. I hope you all enjoy the official first chapter
Word count : 2,227
Warning ⚠️: swearing, mention of sex and drugs, drinking, Rafe being a dick (are we really shocked about that in a rafe cameron fanfic)
The best job to have on the whole island had to be working at one of the county clubs. Simply for the fact that there was no such thing as a bad tip day. It was totally worth watching stuck up seniors and spoiled kooks play golf all day because you knew you’d go home with plenty of money in your pocket.
The only real con was you’d be stuck serving people that you have to see at school once the summer ends. Most of the kids at school do summer internships or at most are forced to “work” part time at their parents’ jobs. No one you knew in figure 8 had to work a real job. On the cut almost everyone you knew had a job it was the only way most kids could stay afloat there was nothing odd about it.
But when you are in figure 8 It was one of the things that made you feel embarrassed, having to serve the same people you call your friends at school reminded you that your diffrent. Today was a prime example of that your manager told you that you were personally requested for a party of 3 on the course. When you pulled up at the first hole you saw none other than Rafe, Kelce and Topper.
“Well look at this isn’t it nice that everyone’s favorite little baby doll finally decided to grace our presents.” Rafe shouted leaning against his club arms crossed.
“Come on man don’t start already ” Topper said, hitting the tall blonde upside his head.
If there was anyone besides Sarah you could count on it would be Topper. He was always there to be your knight in shining armor and the only one that could truly put Rafe in his place besides Ward.
“No it’s fine Top, you guys are practically giving me a chance to hang out instead of work today. So you wanna get started I’ll get the drinks going?”
You couldn’t help but to bounce up as you passed the drinks, Rafe snatched the beer from your hand eyeing you when you waited to give Topper his drink. He couldn’t help but notice the way your hand lingered longer than it should when you passed a beer to Topper.
Hole after hole you followed the boys as they played watching as they’d talk shit to each other and slug down more beers.
“Well guess who’s finally out of the single guys club. What are you two losers gonna do now that I’ll be spending a lot of my time with Anais? ” Kelce said with a toothy grin.
Anais is the girl Kelce has been trying to get with for months even coming to you for advice on how to win her over knowing you’d have a better perspectivecompared to Rafe and Topper.
“Oh God don’t tell me your pussy whipped already.” Rafe couldn’t help but to nod his head in disapproval.
“Well there goes our plans for hot boy summer. I’m finally ready to live the single life with you guys and you have the nerve to get cuffed.” Topper added
“Omg Kelce don’t listen to these two they’re just jealous, congratulations I know how much you really liked her. I’m happy you two are together now its about time.” Kelce patted you on the back, his smile never fading.
“I’m glad someone actually cares about me here. Now the real question is when are you finally gonna get yourself a boyfriend (y/n). I think its time you threw yourself out there, you need to get one so we can go on double dates” Kelce said snickering at the sight of your panicked face.
“Um I mean I don’t know I guess I just haven’t found a guy that really likes me.”
The real problem was the guy you liked didn’t seem to realize how much you liked him but of course you couldn’t tell them that.
“Oh come on there are plenty of people dying at a chance to go out with you (y/n), there hasn’t been anyone that sparked your interest ?” Topper chimed in looking over at you.
You felt as if your face turned into a giant stop light with how red you’ve turned from the conversation.
“Or maybe you’re just a prude that thinks she’s better than everyone else. That could be why you’ve never had a boyfriend.” Rafe said smirking at the little stink face you gave him.
“It’s not that, I mean you’ve never had a real girlfriend Rafe. Everyone says you’re only known for a good hookup, as far as I’m concerned we’re basically in the same boat.” You retorked wanting desperately for the attention to be off your nonexistent love life.
“That’s only because I don’t want a girlfriend no one can hold my interest for long. Word must get around that I’m known for great sex if even you know that I’m good for hookups. It’s just a fact that I have a BIG presence in the bedroom.” Rafe couldn’t help himself from putting emphasis on the word big with the way he smirked. “And at least I have experience in the bedroom unlike some people we know little Miss Virgin Mary.”
It was common knowledge around the obx that everyones favorite pouge has never had a boyfriend. Everyone also seemed to know that you held onto your v card as well. so it was only natural that Rafe would try to throw it in your face every once in a while to try to get under your skin.
“You know I think you have it confused Rafe everyone says that you are a big dick not that you have one.”
Topper and Kelce turned to each other before erupting in laugher causing Rafe to simply roll his eyes.
“Oh you know what (y/n) my bottle seems to be feeling a little empty mind getting me a refill.”
Rafe began to wave his bottle in the air clearly trying to gain control of the situation again. As the laughing died down you made your way over to the cart and handed Rafe another drink. He leaned over to you making sure that Kelce and Topper couldn’t hear him.
“If you ever wanna find out if the rumors are true you know where to find me, I think I need to remind you who’s in charge here (y/n).”
Rafe couldn’t help but to smile as you looked down clearly speechless from his comment. He took this as a silent win before turning his back to go take his turn. A few more rounds where played and the boys could feel themselves getting a little sloppier as each hole progressed and the sun seemed to get dimmer as the hours went on. They all still managed to have a good game going though not letting the fading day and alcohol take them out. Kelce was clearly winning seeing as he had a slightly better tolerance for his alcohol compared to the other two.
At this point Topper decided to sit in your cart and you couldn’t help but smile as he looked over at you. “Thanks for coming along today, you know I appreciate you putting up with us all the time.” He said ruffling your hair a little with a smile.
“You know I don’t mind I like spending time with you guys.”
You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on Topper after all these years. You where practically devastated when he started dating Sarah but you couldn’t help yourself from feeling mildly happy that the people you cared most about found love in each other. A part of you was relieved when the two of them broke up when Sarah decided to date John B. Even though it was a hard time for all of you, especially being caught in the middle of your two closest friends. You couldn’t help but to hold onto a glimmer of hope that maybe after all of this time Topper would stop seeing you as just his childhood best friend. But this was a secret that you’d take to grave not wanting to complicate things or have anyone’s feelings hurt explicitly your own.
“Hey Top how about you get your ass up and finish this hole with us? Or are u just gonna talk to the fucking pouge all day, there not paying her to chit chat there paying her to serve us.”
Rafe yelled, stepping towards the two of you and resting his arm against the canopy on your side of the cart. Rafe was clearly feeling the affects of all the alcohol he consumed. He only ever became meaner the more he drank. You couldn’t help but be grateful this was all he did today knowing that if he had done a few lines then he’d practiclly become a whole new person. Rafe couldn’t help but to stare deeply at the two of you with a scrunched up look on his face.
“Come On man just quit it already you’ve been throwing jabs at (y/n) all day I just wanna have good time. I’m out after this I’m not gonna stick around for you to just be an ass”
Topper pushed himself up walking towards Kelce to take his turn. When Topper was far enough from the cart Rafe leaned in staring you directly in the face making your cheeks flare up at the proximity for the millionth time today.
“What do you want this time Rafe ?” You asked.
“What do I want (y/n) ? Well let’s see I want you to stop with the fucking goo goo eyes your always makeing at Topper. You’re starting to seem a little pathetic. When are you gonna learn that he just doesn’t see you that way.”
At this point your body felt like it was on fire and you where doing everything in your power not to let the comment affect you.
“I dont know what your talking about Rafe, Topper is my friend maybe your just not used to seeing a stable relationship between a guy and a girl that doesn’t involve sex.”
Not the best comeback but it was the only thing you could think of when all you could do was think about was how fast your heart was pounding from his accusations. Obviously they where true but Rafe was the last person you would want to know about your secret feelings towards Topper. Rafe didn’t seem like he was backing down yet either and you weren’t sure how much of this you could take. You continued to stare at him when suddenly he started to fish in his pockets to reveal a wadded up 100 dollar bill he crumpled it up even further and chucked it in your face watching as it fell perfect in your lap when it hit you.
“ What the heck are you doing ?” You said, picking up the crumpled money and holding it in your hand.
“I’m tired of dealing with you so I figured I’d just give you what you came for. Isn’t that why you hang out with kooks so you can take our money and show off to your little friends on the cut.”
It wasn’t the alcohol that was making Rafe act this way it was the sight of seeing you with Topper. It was something that always got under his skin after all these years, he was just able to mask it by blaming it on drugs or his natural hot headed temper.
You could feel tears swelling up in your eyes but couldn’t bear to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing just how deep he cut you. You didn’t know why he always felt the need to remind you that no matter how hard you tried you’d always be diffrent from everyone.
“I don’t need your damn money Rafe I get paid regardless if you’re here or not, and I’ll have you know that Topper asked me to be here. My manager said I was requested to come serve you guys today. I’m just doing my job.”
You took the crumpled bill and threw it back at Rafe letting it hit him before falling into the grass.“I’m heading back to the club, my shift is ending soon anyway.”
Turning the wheel of the cart you started to make your way back to the club not wanting to deal with this any longer then you had too and not wanting everyone to see the tears that started to trickle down your cheeks.
Rafe stumbled back once the cart started to move looking down at the money before glancing over at his confused friends. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was the one that requested to have you with them today but the fact that you assumed it was Topper had him even more pissed off then before It always had to be about fucking Topper.
“I’m fucking done with today I’m leaving.”
In a fit of rage Rafe stormed off throwing his club down before heading back. Deciding he’d rather be alone then have to explain to his friends as to what just happened just now. (Y/n) wasn’t the only one harboring an unrequited love for someone that didn’t seem to notice them.
Another A/n: Well I hoped you guys liked the official first chaper. I have a lot of ideas circulating on what I’m gonna do :3
A/n: Chapter 2 is here !!!! I just wanna start off with saying thank you guys for reading of course I kinda wanna start dabbling in maybe headcanons or doing stuff from a prompt list eventually once I see how this all goes. So let me know if anyone’s interested in that. Also this chapter is heavy Wheezie centric I feel like she needs more love in the Fandom. She’s the only one in the show that let’s us see that Rafe still has a heart and that’s just so fascinating to me. So I figured I’d give her some love this chapter
Disclaimer: I forgot to mention this in the blurb and chapter 1 but everyone is aged up in this and obviously there is no gold or killing or anything (yet maybe idk)
Warning ⚠️: foul language that’s about it
Word count: 3,100
You couldn’t help but to avoid Rafe like the Goddamn plague after that day at the golf course. To say he got under your skin that day would be an understatement.
All your years in knowing Rafe Cameron you tried your best to understand where Rafe was coming from because the moment he laid eyes on you as kids he made it his mission to terrorize you day in and day out.You would think with him being three years older he’d be more mature but that was never the case.
You’d take the wrath of little Rafe any day compared to what he does now. When you were kids he would pinch your cheeks with his hands and just hold your head calling you an annoying, a little baby or other innocent insults before running off to avoid getting in trouble. It was so much simpler than wishing you could just go back to that version of Rafe. But yet somehow no matter what he did you always seemed to have a secret soft spot for him.
Maybe it was because you saw how hard Ward was on him. Every time you’d come over Rafe was always being scolded, Ward expected the best from him and everytime Rafe didn’t deliver the harder he’d be on him. A part of you wondered if this was why Rafe had a hard time letting people into his life with all the high expectations that people put on him.
Maybe this was all part of being the kook prince, maybe the title was actually a curse in disguise. When you have a title like that attached to your name people start treating you as if you’re not a person, you just become whatever people want you to be. Both you and Sarah understood that all too well.
When you’re back home on the cut, everyone tries to cozy up to you in hope of getting invited to kook parties or to see if you have any dirt on outer banks richest families. Some even go as far and call you a traitor feeling as if you abandoned your roots. And when you’re in figure 8 you feel the need to prove that not all pogues are just sleazy poor people and that you’re not just there to steal from them. That’s why you always tried your hardest to prove everyone wrong and show them that just because you’re a pogue doesn’t mean you have no class which I guess in return earned you your princess of the cut title after all these years.
But moments like these really made you question why you even tried in the first place. And as you walked up the steps of Tannyhill after a week of avoiding it simply because of Rafe you couldn’t help but to wonder what your next course of action would be if you saw him. Sarah has been asking you for days to come over and hang out with her but you just kept pushing her off knowing that running into Rafe in his own home was inevitable.
But here you are standing at the beautiful, mostly likely hand sculpted doors of Tannyhill. Before you could even get ready to knock the doors swung open revealing none other than Wheezie Cameron herself.
“I’m so glad you’re here (y/n) I’m in the middle of a deep crisis and I could use all the help I can get.”
“Um but I was supposed to…”
Wheezie didn’t even give you time to finish your sentence as she yanked you inside, taking your hand and dragging you towards her room.
“We have no time to waste.” She slammed the door behind her pressing her body against it as if she was trapping you inside.
“I need advice and I need it now and you’re the only person I can go to. This is top secret stuff here (y/n). I’m bypassing the whole Cameron family and I’m coming straight to you.”
“Well what is it that you need….”
“Shhhhh ” Once again Wheezie cut you off this time by pressing her finger against your lips.
“I can’t let anyone know you’re here Sarah’s in the shower getting ready for you. We only have limited time to talk before she wonders where you are.” You nodded your head afraid to cause another over dramatic outburst from the youngest Cameron.
“I screwed up big time (y/n) . I think I crossed the line with my crush. You know the one from my school and they totally hate me now. I said something I know I shouldn’t have, I kinda called them out on something I know they’re insecure about but in my defense I only did it because I was hella fucking jealous that they weren’t paying attention to me. But love makes you do crazy things you know.”
You nodded taking in what Wheezie was saying as she frantically waved her arms around. “Well maybe you should…” once again you were cut off feeling Wheezie pressing her finger against your lips once more.
“I’m almost done, I’m getting to the big finish.” Dramatically she put her arm over her forehead leaning back and closing her eyes.
“I’m just scared that I’ll never get the chance to apologize. I really messed up. I guess I’m just worried they don’t like me back and I’ve wasted all this time crushing on them for nothing.” You waited wanting to make sure that she got out everything she needed too before finally speaking.
After all these years you really bonded with the youngest Cameron. You guys are just as close as Sarah and you. She truly felt like an outsider in her own home. She wasn’t as popular as Sarah and Rafe at school and she always felt buried beneath all their drama. And even though she was younger than you, you always felt like you two shared a special bond.
“ Well as long as you’ve given them space and everything you should take the time to reach out to them and apologize. If you’re not ready to let them know how you feel then just continue trying to be a friend, if they care about you too then they’ll forgive you just make sure to allow them to forgive you on their time not yours.” Wheezie nodded, taking in the information you told her.
“Also jealousy and love make you do crazy things so just be careful those are two very powerful emotions that consume you if you don’t handle it properly.”
At that Wheezie hugged you smiling widely. “You’re the best (y/n) I knew I could count on you for top tier advice. If Sarah asks just say you’ve been waiting in the foyer for her and that she needs to take quicker showers, her and Rafe are the only people I know that can use up all the hot water in Tannyhill.” You laughed before making your exit.
Walking back to the foyer you could see Sarah texting on her phone. “Um, where have you been? I’ve been waiting for like ever.”
“Funny I got here almost 20 minutes ago looking for you. I’m guessing your "quick” shower took longer than expected like always.“ You roll your eyes as she begins to laugh.
"Ok my bad I’ll make it up to let’s head outside.”
As Sarah and you make your way to the back Wheezie pops her head out from behind one of the closet doors making sure the two of you are gone before making her way towards her brother’s room.
Knocking on his door she slowly peeks her head in to find her brother laying down playing on his phone.
“What’s the point of knocking if your just gonna fucking barge in anyway.” Rafe said not bothering to look up at his younger sister.
“I come bearing information about (y/n) that I thought you might like to hear. But if I’m not wanted then I could always go.” She says coyly sitting at the end of his bed as her brother’s head pops up at the mention of your name.
“Why would I care about that ?” Rafe says, sinking back down Wheezie knows he’s just trying to play it cool not wanting to seem too over eager at the idea of you.
While Rafe has never come out and said it directly to her Wheezie has always known about the secret crush he’s harbored for you. She always held a deep admiration for her older brother so naturally she’d follow him around when she was younger. And over time she started to realize that while she was following him he was always following you, watching as you and Sarah would play in the background, taking every chance he could to tease you.
At first she just thought he was being a normal annoying boy treating you like he would his sisters. But as you all grew older Wheezie understood that he had a diffrent type of love for you.
Naturally she found out about what happened at the golf course, granted it took major prying on her end for Rafe to explain why he’s been in such a mood this past week. So she figured she’d take matters into her own hands knowing that communication was never her brother’s strong suit.
“So I was talking to (y/n) about "MY” little problem and she gave me some pretty solid advice.“
"Wait, what’s your problem? Do you need me to take care of anything?” Rafe said, sitting up clearly not getting his sister’s hints.
“No stupid I basically refrased the issue your having with her but making like its my issue.”
“Oh ok why didn’t you just say that.” Wheezie couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how stupid her brother could be sometimes.
“Anyway I think you should apologize to her but like in your own way so she doesn’t get sus about your crush and everything. And she also says that if someone cares about you they’ll forgive you just don’t get all pushy like you usually do. I know you have no patience.”
Rafe nodded, taking in his sister’s words. “I think it’s about time you just tell her how you feel Rafe. It has been agonizing to watch all these years. Plus I would love it if (y/n) was my sister in law.”
At that Rafe flicked Wheezie on her head “Jesus Wheeze let me work on my own goddamn time, you’re jumping too far ahead I gotta focus on today.”
“So you’re admitting you’ve thought of marriage.” Wheezie smiled, jumping off his bed and running to the door before he could flick her again.
“Sarah and (y/n) are outside. I can get Sarah away from her so you can apologize.”
Following his sister out they made their way to the backyard to see you and Sarah sitting beneath a tree facing one another and laughing.
“What are you two doing? ” Wheezie calls out running up to you guys as Rafe stands behind leaning against the back door.
“We’re playing our secret game.” Sarah says giggling
“God not this again when are you two gonna give this up.” Wheezie whines and you two burst into laughter.
For years Sarah and you have been playing this “secret game” that only the two of you know about much to everyone’s annoyance. It was something you two did to ensure you’d always be friends and never fight and after all these years it seemed to be working. While Sarah has a tendency to drift away from people she never seemed to drift from you.
“Gosh you two are so annoying together, anyway Rose texted me to ask if you can send her a picture of that contract she just signed for that new house she sold.”
“Why can’t you do it? I’m busy.”
“I don’t know where it is. Can you show me?”
“Ugh I’ll be back (y/n).”
Rafe watches as Sarah gets up following Wheezie inside before stepping his way over to you. “Hey” He said, towering over you instead of sitting.
“Hi Rafe.” He couldn’t help but see the way you looked up at him before looking back down, noticing the way you didn’t want to make eye contact. Rafe finally sat down, sitting opposite of you like Sarah was just moments before.
You watched as he suddenly lifted his large hands to your face. “Um Rafe, what are you….” Before you could finish your sentence Rafe began to pinch your cheeks and shake your head.
“I’m trying to get you to stop being such a fucking baby and look at me when I talk to you.” He said as he watched you squint your eyes and scrunch up your nose secretly relishing the feeling of your face in his hands.
Once satisfied he released your face and watched as you busted out laughing, he couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face as you laughed. As much as he ragged on his friends for being love sick bitches all the time he was probably secretly the worst out of all of them because everything you did riled him up to no end.
“You Camerons can never let me finish a sentence.” You chuckled.
Excited that he finally got you to speak to him he found a way to keep the conversation going as best as he could. “Hmm, So uh you’re going to Toppers next week for the yearly Thornton charity ball ?”
“Yha it’s not like I have a choice really.”
“Well you gotta love being Cynthia Thornton’s favorite trophy piece to show off.” Once again you giggle at his words noticing Sarah approaching from behind.
“Is he bothering you (y/n)? I could always have dad lock him back up in the kennel with the other dogs.” Sarah said arms crossed waiting for Rafe to move from her spot.
“I’m fucking going” standing up he took one more glance at you before walking away noticing the small smile you gave him. He was trying his hardest to bite his tongue, not wanting to ruin the moment between the two of you just to get into a petty dispute with Sarah.
“You know actually I think it might be time for me to head home. I have an early shift tomorrow and you know it will take a while for me to get back.” You said standing up and brushing off the dirt from your shorts.
“Aw come on (y/n) why do you always have to be so responsible?” Sarah whined before taking you in her arms. “Come over tomorrow we can keep playing our game.”
“I can give you a ride home (y/n) I was gonna head over that way anyway.”
Rafe could see the look of shock on both Sarah and yours face and a part of him already felt regretful for even offering. But he couldn’t sit on his feelings for you any longer. If he didn’t start acting on them then he might actually explode, and a ride home was a good step in the right direction.
“Um sure I’d really appreciate that it saves me the cab fare.” Rafe could tell you were agreeing just to avoid the awkward rejection and it hurt a hell of a lot to realize that.
“I’ll see how I feel after my shift Sarah and let you know.” You hugged her one more time before taking your leave falling a few steps behind Rafe’s tall frame.
The two of you got into his truck sitting in an awkward silence as he started the engine. Neither one of you spoke for sometime both just keeping your eyes straight ahead.
“Are you going to go see Barry?” You asked knowing that Rafe wouldn’t be caught dead in the cut unless it was to see Barry.
“Uh yha I owe him money and I gotta pay him back today.”
“Hmm” your attempt at making conversation fell dead, coming off as more judgmental than you intended it to be.
“So I assume you’re going to the charity event next week too. Maybe we could hang out for a bit. I always hated going and I know Sarah kinda isn’t invited because of… well you know.” You looked over at him to see if you got any reaction.
A part of you was mentally screaming for even asking him. Rafe seemed like he was extending an olive branch today so of course you’d try to grab hold of it and finally end his years long reign of terror against you. Plus it would be nice to finally go with someone to the Thornton charity ball and not awkwardly hang onto Topper for the whole event.
“Sure I hate those fucking things anyway I only go for Topper and since my dad is makeing me this year.”
You nodded watching as Rafe turned down your block slowing down when he reached your house. “Well thanks for the ride Rafe, I’ll probably see you tomorrow.” Rafe nodded as You flashed him another smile, you got out of the car waving goodbye when you reached the door.
Rafe stayed to make sure you got in safe and to get the excuse to watch you a little longer before pulling off making his way over to Barry’s house.
Maybe Wheezie was right that now was the time for him to make his move. You’re sweet and caring and no matter how hard he’s tried to push you away you always end up forgiving him. Being around you is the best high he’s ever had but he couldn’t stop the nagging voice inside his head from telling him he’ll just ruin everything or more importantly ruin you.
A/n: Well that’s the end of chapter 2 I had alot of fun writing this one. I’m gonna try to come up with a consistent posting schedule and shot for Thursday nights to post. Anyway I hope guys enjoy I have some fun stuff planned
Synopsis:If you’re feeling down, Rafe just wants to make you happier, baby.
a/n:the votes are in. Pre euro trip football blurb !
“C’mon. Swap with me.”
Noah tore his eyes away from the seating chart, surveying his best friend’s features with something akin to mild amusement. “Not sure that’s how it works, bud.”
“Want a bet?” Rafe challenged roguishly, cocking his head to one side, “go on, White. It’s just fucking calc.”
“Hey,” Noah shrugged, raising his arms in surrender, “it’s not like it’s up to me. Mrs Bright’s the one that put you beside Kelce.”
“And the one that put you beside Y/n,” Rafe pressed, eyes widening pointedly, “you’re not seriously going to —”
He was forced to falter as Noah’s palm made contact with his shoulder, grip punishing in an attempt to bring a halt to the conversation. A curt shake of his head, and Noah sent Rafe a meaningful glance, having registered you and Kelce walk into the classroom before he had.
Ironic, really, that he had clocked it first — Rafe was sure that your skin was magnetic; that his senses tended to note your presence before his conscious mind did. Relaxed features, and hair twisted back into a claw clip; something sweet in the air, and Rafe felt his eyes close a moment, taking his time to breathe this in. His figure was straightening just as you sidled in beside him, a crease in your forehead that had his thumb itching to smooth it out.
“Why,” you fixed Rafe with a pointed glare, as though he wasn’t halfway to dropping down on one knee and asking you to please (please) marry him, “are you guys congregating?”
“No reason,” Rafe shrugged easily, eyes alight with mischief. He dipped his head until his lips were at your earlobe, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin beneath it.
“On a completely unrelated note,” he added in a low murmur, and your peripheries blurred then, lashes dangerously close to fluttering shut, “do you have a pen? I need to make a few changes to this seating arrangement.”
The teasing lilt to his tone was enough to bring you out of your reverie, a huff escaping your lips as you separated from his figure.
“Ofcourse you do,” you scoffed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “Rafael, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to sit beside Amber in your other classes —”
“Amber?” Rafe echoed bemusedly, allowing you space to step forward and pore over the chart. He took a pause before resting his hands on the table either side of you, broad chest warm and welcoming on your back, “what’s she got to do with anything?”
He bowed his head again, flirting with the idea of taking it a step further. “Pretty sure Amber isn’t the girl I’m going to marry, one day.”
You huffed another exasperated sigh, turning toward him with your arms folded across your chest. “And who is?”
A long pause, one that appeared to warp space-time a little. Rafe Cameron held the moon and the stars in his eyes, and you swallowed slightly, breath hitching as his gaze darted down to your lips.
“I think you know the answer to that question,” he said softly, and you wouldn’t have guessed that Kelce and Noah were still standing there — that you were still standing there, knees like jelly and conviction more than a little meek.
You shook your head in lieu of a response, peeling your eyes away from his features to concentrate on the seating chart. Spotting your name first, you sent Noah a polite smile, eyes flitting back toward the plan in order to find Topper and Kelce’s seats, too. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was using the momentary pause to pull Kelce to one side, firm grip on his shirt collar as he lowered his voice to a desperate hiss.
“Smith,” he ordered, raising his eyebrows pointedly, “swap with Y/n.”
“Rafael,” you frowned, speaking up before Kelce could, “he’s not going to swap with you.”
Your eyes were still trained on the seating chart, bottom lip chewed raw as they settled on Topper’s name. Amber’s right beside him, and you were almost certain he was going to be pleased with the arrangement. The revelation settled heavy in your stomach, and the defeated exhale on your lips was enough to bring Rafe’s brows together.
“What’s wrong?” He frowned, abandoning his hold on Kelce to step back into your side.
“Don’t worry about it,” you muttered, turning on your heel just as he made to catch your wrist. There was a slump in your shoulders that hadn’t been there before; poorly hidden disappointment that appeared to intensify as Topper walked in.
“There you guys are!” He greeted easily, pulling you into his side, “how are we looking?”
“Hey,” you smiled weakly, a pained expression on your features, “good, I think. I mean — you’ll definitely be happy with the arrangement.”
“No he won’t,” Rafe said on instinct, absently tugging on the bill of his backwards cap, “Amber’s swapping with Kelce. Right, Smith?”
“I —” Kelce faltered a moment, sending Rafe a bewildered glance before realisation dawned on his features, “— uh, I guess?”
Topper surveyed Kelce’s features bemusedly, raising an eyebrow before looking toward the seating chart. “Aight. So we’re sitting together, then?”
Your gaze hadn’t yet left Rafe’s, and something within in softened then — an overwhelming sense of appreciation within it. “Mm-hm. And I’m with Noah.”
“Or,” Rafe added, the corners of his mouth twitching mischievously, “Kelce swaps with Amber, who then swaps with you —”
“Rafael,” you interrupted, the smile on your lips betraying your feigned indignation, “that is most definitely not happening.”
“Had to try,” he shrugged, sending you a wink that had you holding your breath, “but hey, no biggie. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities to sit beside you in all of my other classes —”
“Unbelievable,” you interrupted, shaking your head irately, “you’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“And you’re beautiful,” he responded effortlessly, falling into your step as you headed toward your seat, “and sweet, and trying to fucking kill me with this dress, and way too hot to sit beside White, and —”
“Like I said,” you repeated, seemingly unconvinced, unperturbed, and — well, and trying to ignore the fact that your heart felt the very opposite of those two words, “un-fucking-believable.”
—
You didn’t know Noah White without Rafe Cameron.
They were a package deal — always had been; the same, cocky personality emanating from two, equally handsome individuals. Perhaps that was why you had already written him off when given the opportunity to get to know him — same genre of trouble, same reputation you were looking to avoid, and same, tooth-aching sweet talk that made you feel like a prize.
Except, that he wasn’t. (And perhaps this was because Rafe Cameron wasn’t too; not in the brash sense, anyway, and especially not with you.)
Senior calc was quickly becoming one of your favourite periods, and you had Mrs Bright’s seating chart to thank for this perplexing new revelation. Because Noah White was actually pretty cool, once you gave him a chance — he was insanely good at maths, always had some gum in his backpack, and somehow knew about your broken headphones and brought you a spare pair, second week back.
He was also extremely perceptive — frustratingly so, and perhaps that was why a single glance in your direction brought a furrow to his brow. His gaze shifted past your figure, meeting Rafe’s a moment, before he was leaning right in, peering at the webpage you had open on your laptop.
“You good?” He whispered, speaking through the corner of his mouth in an attempt to remain discreet.
“Huh?” You questioned bemusedly, only just registering his presence, “oh — uh, yeah, no. I’m algood.”
Noah raised his eyebrows at your distracted expression, clearly unconvinced. “College admissions trouble?”
“Kind of,” you sighed, looking back toward the UNC webpage with a small frown on your lips, “just tossing up between a few options.”
“Ah,” Noah responded, sending you an apologetic smile, “well hey, if you ever wanna talk to someone about UNC, my older sister Em’s graduating from there this year.”
You perked up then, interesting piquing. “Is she?”
“Mm-hm,” Noah nodded, “she did a business degree, so I’m not sure how much help she’d be with —” he took a small pause, scanning the screen again in search of your chosen major, “— uh, Art History, but she could probably provide some perspective on the University as a whole.”
“Really?” You questioned, letting out a sigh of relief, “you sure she wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah, not at all,” Noah assured, bumping your shoulder affectionately, “she loves playing big sister. She’s home next week, too — she’ll be at the game if you wanted to speak to her about it in person.”
You nodded slowly, feeling your shoulders begin to relax. “That would be so amazing, seriously. Thank you Noah!”
“Hey,” Noah shrugged, grinning wide, “no biggie. Anything for the future sister-in-law.”
He raised his voice just enough for Rafe to hear the last few words, eyes alight with mischief as he registered your embarrassed groan.
“Unbelievable,” you huffed, feeling a familiar flush creeping up your cheeks, “un-fucking-believable, just like him.”
“White!” Rafe called, furrowing his brow in mock indignation, “stop harrassing my girl.”
“Rafael,” you frowned, fixing him with a pointed glare, “not your girl.”
“Sweetheart —”
“Not your sweetheart either, Cameron.”
—
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
Rafe raised his head bemusedly, halfway through tying up his shoes when Noah’s words registered. “Huh? For what?”
“Dude,” Noah took a purposeful pause, lifting his eyebrows pointedly, “for being the best wingman in history, obviously.”
Rafe surveyed Noah’s features with mild interest, cocking his head to one side. “Go on.”
“Did you know Y/n’s considering UNC?” Noah responded, sending Rafe a meaningful glance, “because she is.”
“Fuck off,” Rafe breathed, feeling something strange and syrupy sweet settle in his veins. The prospect of separating for college in the future had been a source of significant chagrin all summer; he wasn’t sure he was capable of surviving without the promise of your presence — warmth and everything good in this world, soft skin and softer disposition. And though the thought of living without you wasn’t something he wanted to entertain, Rafe knew he wouldn’t dream of standing between you and the college of your dreams. Whether that be UNC, or somewhere else entirely, he would accept your decision — would live life alongside it. Alongside, but not truly within it; he couldn’t, not unless the moon and the stars willed it.
“I know,” Noah nodded, scanning Rafe’s features a moment before continuing, “she’s unsure, though, so I told her she should speak to Em.”
“Your sister Em?” Rafe questioned, cracking a roguish grin, “aw, my two favourite girls getting alon—”
“Is Rose coming tonight, Cameron?” Noah retorted, letting out a dramatic sigh, “reckon she’ll help me warm u—”
“Fuck off,” Rafe gagged, making a face, “you know I was just playing. Why do you always have to take it too far?”
“Because your step-mom is milf central,” Noah shrugged easily, deftly dodging Rafe’s punch, “can’t blame me, bro.”
“Anyway,” Rafe huffed, clearing his throat pointedly before continuing, “has Y/n spoken to her?”
“Nah, told her to find Em at the game,” Noah responded, straightening just as the rest of the team entered the locker room, “which means —”
“Kelce,” Kelce interrupted, raising his voice an octave in a mocking attempt to adopt your reproachful lilt, “please do not tell Rafael that I’m going to be attending the game tonight, because last time I came he was fucking insufferable and — blah blah blah, what’ll it take for you to leave her alone tonight, Cameron?”
“You know I can’t help it, Smith,” Rafe grinned, endeared by the mere thought of his name escaping your lips — as if that was fucking possible, “there’s just —”
“—something about her,” Kelce finished, lowering his voice, this time — gruffer and deeper, caveman-like.
“Exactly,” Rafe nodded, unperturbed by Kelce’s attempt to goad him, “can’t promise shit.”
“I don’t get you, Cameron,” Topper said then, half-amused, half-exasperated by Rafe’s inability to give up, “a million girls in this world —”
“— and none quite like her, you know?” Rafe interrupted, knowing exactly where Topper was going with this, “you don’t get me, Thornton, because you don’t get true love.”
Topper raised an eyebrow at that, sharing a bewildered look with the rest of the team before shaking his head. “Right.”
The rest of the team, barring two, extremely perceptive individuals. And it wasn’t a coincidence that Kelce and Noah looked to each other then — stupid, convoluted love, and it felt as though they were the only two that understood it, sometimes.
A distance away, the spectator stands were filling at an alarming pace. Privately, you never understood the novelty of watching sweaty guys tackle each other on dewy grass (it almost frustratedyou — although, that was another story entirely), but you had promised your best friends your unconditional support, and your unconditional support is what they would receive. The fact that Noah’s older sister would also be here was an encouraging plus; you were hoping to be introduced right after the game was finished, receive some clarity on a decision that was slowly gnawing your insides raw.
You managed to find a few girls from your class just as the first whistle was blown, preparing yourself for an hour or so of menial small talk and polite cheering. Scanning the field on occasion, you would manage to make encouraging eye-contact with Topper whenever he looked toward you — a small flutter, a twinkle in your eye, and something safe and familiar would settle in your stomach. It wouldn’t somersault, nor thrum right out of your chest, wouldn’t be jelly in your knees like Rafe’s brilliant blue gaze. Because though you managed to avoid looking toward his figure, the something strange in your veins made you feel as though his eyes remained on you. Not enough to be distracted, sure, but just enough for his movements to falter with yours.
You would furrow your brow (attempting to understand a game you had long since given up on), and Rafe would feel an overwhelming urge to smooth the creases right out. You would whisper something slight in Yasmin’s ear, and his eyes would flit to your soft lips then, agonise over how badly he wanted to kiss them. You would smile at something silly, cheer when the team scored, and on occasion, you would hug your waist tighter — shiver a little as the cool, night air wrapped around your figure.
“Oi!” Rafe called suddenly, eyes lingering on your figure as he raised his hands in a T, “ref — I need to call a time-out.”
The referee surveyed his features, bewildered, taking a small pause before reluctantly blowing his whistle. “You have a minute, captain.”
“Sweet,” Rafe sent him a thumbs-up, jogging back toward the sidelines where his drink bottle and jumper lay slumped on the bench. The rest of the team stood frozen on the field, sending each other equally perplexed looks before Noah cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Cameron!” He called, making for his figure when he didn’t receive an answer, “the fuck are you doing?”
Rafe grabbed his faded, football jersey before turning toward his best-friend, meeting his bewildered gaze with a relaxed expression, unperturbed by the interruption. “Getting my jumper.”
“You — what?” Noah frowned, perplexed, “you called a time-out because you were cold?”
“No, you fucking idiot,” Rafe snorted, shaking his head as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I called a time-out because Y/n was shivering.”
He turned around before Noah had a chance to protest, expertly traversing the stands until he reached your figure within it. Eyes wide and a grimace on your features, it was clear that you were more than a little embarrassed by Rafe’s decision.
“Rafael,” you hissed, and he was standing so fucking close, cologne and sweat and wonderful warmth clouding every one of your senses, “what are you doing?”
Rafe furrowed his brow a little at the question — your teeth were still chattering, eyes narrowed and something sweet on your skin; wasn’t it painfully clear why he was here?
“As much as I’d like to sit here,” he grinned, leaning in close until you could feel the heat radiating off his figure, “and warm you up myself, I have a football game to finish, sweetheart, so I thought I’d give you my jersey instead.”
“I’m not cold,” you muttered stubbornly, refusing to make eye-contact.
Rafe raised an eyebrow at the claim, placing the football jersey in your lap anyway. “You sure?”
“Positive,” you bit back, folding your arms across your chest, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t call time-outs on my account, Rafael.”
“Not on your account,” Rafe shrugged easily, eyes twinkling a little, “mostly on mine. Pretty selfish, but I reckon my lucky charm wearing number fourteen would guarantee a win, don’t you?”
“Luckycharm?” You scoffed, fixing him with a pointed glare, “I’ve been to two games, maximum —”
“Not true,” Rafe winked, clutching his chest and pretending to swoon, “you’ve been on my mind during all of them.”
“Jesus, Cameron,” came a sweet voice behind you, speaking before you had a chance to, “Noah really wasn’t kidding, huh?”
You furrowed your brow at the sentiment, turning toward the source to find a gorgeous brunette already staring at you. She had the same eyes as Noah, gentle smile that relaxed your shoulders, and her gaze lingered a moment, mischief returning as she looked back toward Rafe’s figure.
“Don’t be jealous, Em,” Rafe grinned, straightening just as a warning whistle rang through the air, “you know you’ll always be my first love.”
“Alright, buddy,” Emma scoffed, shaking her head bemusedly, “now, for the love of God, please go back to playing football.”
“Yes ma’am,” Rafe nodded sagely, sending her a mock salute before jogging back down to the field.
The exchange had thrown you far more than you were willing to admit, and you found yourself staring down at the jersey on your lap — large and warm and him, with intent enough to drown out the second whistle. It was only when Emma tapped you on the shoulder that you were brought out of your reverie, turning back toward her with a weak expression on your features.
“Hey,” she greeted with a smile, pointing to the empty seat beside you, “mind if I —”
“No, yeah, of course,” you nodded eagerly, and another gust of wind then, one you refused to acknowledge in light of Rafe’s stupid fucking jersey in your lap.
She climbed into the seat from the one directly above it, surveying you a moment before responding. “You’re Y/n, right?”
“Right,” you affirmed, angling your body toward her, “and you’re Noah’s sister?”
“Em,” she corrected amicably, sending you another kind smile, “he told me about how you’re struggling a bit with college apps.”
You let out a defeated sigh, absently chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah. Just a little unsure about where I’d fit best.”
Emma nodded in understanding, mouth half-open in response with she registered the way you were shivering.
“You know,” she said, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “you’re allowed to put on Rafe’s jersey if you want.”
“I don’t,” you scowled, resisting the urge to make a face, “not Rafael’s.”
Emma surveyed you with mild amusement, taking a pause to look toward the field. She caught Rafe’s gaze just as the team scored, his eyes widening pointedly as he mouthed an isn’t she fucking perfect?
She laughed then, a little endeared by his earnest expression, responding a teasing she’s way out of your league, bud before turning back toward you.
“Fair enough,” she nodded sagely, “he’s a bit of a pest, that one.”
You smiled then, crinkling your nose playfully. “Pretty sure he gets a kick out of harassing me.”
“Ah,” Emma said, eyes twinkling a little, “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“No,trust me,” you assured, sending her a meaningful glance, “you should see the way he is when we’re in class. He’s —”
“If it’s anything like,” she gestured toward the jersey on your lap, huffing a laugh, “that,then I’m sure harassing you is the last thing he wants to do.”
“You can’t know that,” you frowned, refusing to relent.
“You know,” she said then, pointing toward his figure in the distance, “I’m pretty sure he’s going to get a kink in his neck from how often he’s looked in this direction so far.”
“But seriously, Y/n,” she continued, smiling knowingly, “I’ve know Rafe for a long, long time. And not once have I seen him act like this over a girl.”
You swallowed slightly, a heat in your cheeks as you shifted your gaze toward the field. There Rafe was, combing calloused fingers through sweaty hair, ruggedly handsome as ever as he sent you a cheeky grin. I hope she helps you with your decision, he mouthed then, brilliant blue gaze never wavering, I hate seeing you stressed out.
You crinkled your nose at him, features bright enough to make him swoon. He was halfway to calling another time-out, halfway to pretending to get down on one knee — halfway to actually getting down on one knee when you tore your eyes away from him, a smile on your lips that hadn’t been there before.
“Um, right,” you responded awkwardly, eager to change the subject. It did funny things to your chest, made your skin feel warm and your mind grow hazy. “Anyway, I, um, I’d love to hear a little bit more about your experience at UNC.”
“Yeah, of course,” Emma nodded, all-business now, “do you have any specific questions before I go on my spiel?”
“Well,” you faltered a moment, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, “I was hoping to do an Art History degree —”
“Oh, one of my sorority sisters did Art History!” Emma exclaimed, smiling wide, “she really really loved it, one of the best programmes in the country I hear.”
“Yeah?” You responded eagerly, leaning right in, “I — I really want to go, but my dad’s a UPenn alum, and he kinda wants me to follow in his footsteps. I just… I don’t know, I guess I wanted to know whether UNC’s worth fighting for.”
Emma was patient and kind in a way you weren’t used you; you hadn’t grown up with an older sibling, the only sage advice you ever received from a parental figure that thought they knew better. You ended up voicing concerns that didn’t just pertain to UNC, but to college as a whole — she was gentle, she was understanding, and you found yourself leaning into her presence in a way you didn’t think possible. She provided you with a fresh perspective on college; on how different life was when you escaped the Figure Eight, and the impossible expectations that came with it. You were so engrossed in the conversation that you were still chatting when the football game came to an end, traversing the stands side by the side to join the crowd congregating on the field.
It was only when Noah’s sweaty figure approached you that you were finally forced to halt, sending him a grateful smile as Emma pulled him into a hug.
“You played like shit,” she teased, ruffling his hair a little, “waste of my fucking time, if you ask me.”
“Fuck off, Em,” Noah scowled, enough height on him to tower over her figure, “you peaked in high-school. I know you secretly love finding excuses to come back here.”
He turned toward you then, raising his eyebrows at your jersey-clad figure. “No longer shivering then, Y/n?”
You grimaced sheepishly, hugging your arms around your waist on instinct. “Hey — its not like I asked him to call a time-out.”
“Worth it,” came a soft voice in your ear, broad chest against your back, warmth and musk and alluring charming prompting you to lean back inadvertently, “besides, it looks way better on you than it does me, sweetheart.”
You turned your head then, frown faltering as you registered how close his face was to yours. The phantom of his lips on your earlobe, and his hand came to rest on your hip then, steadying your figure just as you felt your knees buckle at his proximity.
“Here,” you swallowed, tugging at the frayed hem on instinct, “you can have it back —”
“No way,” he breathed, lips parting slightly, “you need to keep it on for a few more hours, at the very least.”
You could feel your lashes fluttering at the words, and you almost didn’t notice Emma and Noah discreetly rejoin the crowd. They had disappeared from sight before you had a chance to protest — it was just you and Rafe now, and your peripheral vision blurred at the thought.
“Why?” you said weakly, his fingers like fire on your skin.
“Because,” Rafe inched impossibly closer, eyes flitting down to your lips, “that way, when you give it back to me, it’ll smell like you.”
You pressed your palms against his torso half-heartedly, feeling something syrupy erupt in the middle of your chest. “Rafael.”
“Y/n,” he teased, a small smile on his lips, “did speaking to Em make you feel better?”
You nodded a response, creating some distance between your figure and his. “Mm-hm.”
“Good.”
“Good?” You echoed bemusedly, raising an eyebrow at the sentiment, “why do you care?”
“Because,” Rafe shrugged simply, brushing his thumb against the contour of your cheek a moment, “you seemed a little down in math the other day. And I just wanted to see you happy again, you know?”
Synopsis: the Euro Trip told through Rafe Cameron’s perspective.
Word count: a little more than 20k because I’m insufferable
a/n: a cherished project !!! very very excited to share this one. That’s all (ps. i apologise for any grammatical errors and typos, I edited this a million times over but with how long it is, I’m sure some things slipped through the cracks!)
Last hole of nine, and Rafe Cameron was saved by the bell.
His harmless bet with Noah — loser buys winner beers for the rest of summer break — was a single swing away from burning a gaping hole in his wallet, and it was perhaps his acute awareness of this fact that led to the eager way he clawed at his back-pocket. A furtive glance in his best friend’s direction, fingers scrambling to unlock his phone, and Rafe Cameron found himself thinking — hoping, praying, that his saving grace was displayed within his recent notifications. His eyes darted over the screen as he threw his club onto the freshly cut green, free hand tugging at the bill of his backwards cap distractedly.
Around him — the makings of a cruel summer. Balmy breeze on his skin, sunshine held within blue irises, and the promise of all of his Figure Eight lasts before the commencement of college. He scanned over his notifications once, twice, threetimes, just to be certain. Because the last text he had received held a Figure Eight first, not a last — an opportunity that couldn’t possibly be real; he must have imagined it, somehow. Too good to be true, and yet, there it fucking was. His breath hitched, eyes widening hopefully, and there was an undercurrent of something else there — wonderful fate, because why else had he not made concrete plans for his summer break?
Topper:what are u doing over break?
Rafe Cameron was well-acquainted with Topper Thornton, having spent the last two years playing football alongside him. The boy had a friendly enough disposition, and he wasn’t half-bad as a wide receiver, either. Though Rafe thought privately that in amongst all of his amicable qualities, his relation to you was his greatest one.
The same you that he had fallen head-over-heels for in freshman year — endearingly stubborn, stupidly beautiful, fresh-faced, doe-eyed you. He heard Taylor Swift lyrics in the air every time you were near, felt your lavender shampoo like something syrupy sweet in his veins. Strength and conviction and the way you tended to see right through him, and Rafe Cameron was fairly certain you held fate within your irises. Constellations that felt like bullet after bullet to his chest, like something wonderful and golden and real — as though you and him were the only thing that made sense.
Rafe:whos asking
The answer probably wasn’t you; you were open about your dislike for him, seldom entertained the tongue-in-cheek comments that he teased you with. And it wasn’t as though this revelation was anything new; it was how it always had been between the two of you. But apparently, yearning didn’t mix well with the overconfidence he seemed to exude, because Rafe was a douchebag, sure, but he was also hopelessly in love. And he was working on his blasé behaviour, he swore it; working on it, and on deserving you, and on making his mother proud, too.
So — alright, the answer probably, definitely,wasn’t you, but that didn’t stop him hoping to God that it was. It didn’t stop the way his heartbeat quickened at the thought, nor the adrenaline in his veins, the anticipatory furrow to his brow.
Topper:y/n…
Your name, and Rafe felt a wonderful warmth spread through his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, and his thoughts appeared to fragment. It was like a highlight reel of how he had come to define love; your soft skin, your gentle eyes, the way you tried not to smile when he was around.
Rafe:im listening
Topper: me, kelce and her had a euro trip planned for the summer. kelce can’t go anymore, so we have a spare ticket
A slew of curses fell from Rafe’s lips then, breathy and disbelieving, and he faltered, meeting Noah’s gaze with a hopeful expression.
Noah cocked his head to one side curiously, surveying Rafe’s features with a quirk of his brow. “What is it?”
It was a rhetorical question, really — his best friend knew true love like the back of his hand.
“Dude,” a pause, a slow shake of his head. Rafe tugged his backwards cap off distractedly, raking his fingers through his hair. “I — look.”
He thrust his phone in Noah’s direction, the beat of his heart growing increasingly trepidatious. Tongue-tied, and he wasn’t sure he had the courage to read out the text — if it was something he had managed to dream up (a concoction of heat-stroke and pure, honest-to-God love), he wanted to remain in its throes for as long as humanly possible.
Noah’s eyes scanned over the message thread with care, the furrow in his brow growing increasingly skeptical. There was zero way you had willingly agreed to this — you were set in your ways, adamant about your disapproval of Rafe’s antics.
And it wasn’t as though Noah didn’t appreciate your point of view — he knew better than anyone how inappropriate Rafe’s behaviour could be around you. But understanding as he was, he had a protective streak, too, and if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Rafe’s heart was in the right place. He was a cocky, insufferable douchebag, sure, but the love he felt for you was genuine and true. It left him vulnerable to heartbreak, inevitably so, and Noah had a funny feeling that was the only way this trip was going to go.
“This seems,” he gesticulated awkwardly, taking a pause to gather his thoughts, “uh, I don’t know. Do you really think Y/n would agree to it?”
“I mean,” Rafe frowned, his tone growing a little defensive, “we did dance together at prom —”
“She went with Topper,” Noah interrupted, cutting Rafe a surreptitious look. “Cameron, c’mon. What if this is a set-up?”
“ByThornton?” Rafe questioned, cocking an eyebrow at the claim. “What the fuck would he gain from that?”
Noah shrugged helplessly, combing his fingers through his hair. “No fucking clue. But I just don’t know if —” he took another pause, lowering his voice to a gentler lilt, “— if Y/n’s… ready to say yes to something like this.”
Rafe faltered. He let out a long, drawn-out breath, willing his restless mind to still. He knew Noah was right (your resolve was his favourite thing about you), but just this once, Rafe wanted to ignore it. He wanted to be selfish — wanted to want something he shouldn’t.
But that wasn’t Rafe; not the Rafael he was with you, anyway. Because shit—his feelings for you drove him insane. They held magnetic, all-consuming love, the kind that prompted selfless acts and choosing your happiness over his.
Rafe:no way y/n would agree to me coming
Topper:we can figure that out later
Rafe’s eyes narrowed a little as he read over the text, his apprehension growing by the minute. It felt hurried, almost terse — as though the decision to replace Kelce with Rafe had been made before first consulting you. His heart dropped at the thought, panic overwhelming his senses. Topper wouldn’t dare do that, would he? The last thing Rafe wanted to do was upset you. He would sooner die than make a decision that could hurt you. Bury himself six feet under if it meant you remained above ground. And he placed emphasis on the six feet under — he would do anythingbefore taking your happiness out of the equation. Did Topper understand that? Did he care?
Perhaps he must have noted Rafe’s hesitance, because in the beat that passed, he sent through another text.
Topper:anyway, we’ll be together all the time. no way anyone can dislike someone that long, right?
And in the technical sense — it was true. A secret part of Rafe was sure you didn’t really dislike him, not as much as you wanted to. You couldn’t. He wasn’t certain he could explain why he was so sure of it, but he was, and perhaps that was what prompted his next text message.
Rafe: when do we leave ?
At his side, Noah let out a disappointed sigh. There was a sheepish look in Rafe’s eye, but the timbre of his voice never faltered. “You don’t get it,” he said, almost matter-of-factly.
“You’re digging yourself a fucking grave,” Noah muttered in response. “And I’m not going to be in Europe to pull you out.”
—
Ward Cameron didn’t attend his son’s high-school graduation.
He was on an obligatory business trip in the Bahamas, one that he insisted he absolutely hadto attend. As though he wasn’t the one in charge; couldn’t just as easily move the dates around to remain in Kildare. He definitely could do so without blinking an eye, though perhaps he scheduled it the way he did for a reason. Because if he was on another island, he would remain a safe distance away from soft, baby blues. From memories he had long since buried, and other things that reminded him of his youth. Like fresh peonies and true love and danger, and Lillian Dumont dressed in a cap and gown, too.
“Ward!” Lillian exclaimed excitedly, an arms length away when she pulled him into a tight hug. His graduation attire was far more tattered than hers, catching reproachful glares as the Kildare Academy graduating class dispersed. “How are you here right now?”
Ward shrugged easily, a devious smile on his lips. “Left mine early. Have something important to say.”
He tugged Lillian away from the crowd and into a hidden corner of the Academy; time was of the essence — he hadn’t escaped his high-school graduation for justanything.
“What?” She asked curiously, searching his features in earnest.
The box in his back-pocket held all of his life savings and then some. He wasn’t sure he had anything else figured out. He wasn’t sure he needed to — not with Lillian soon-to-be-Cameron around.
Rafe Cameron would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a dreadful ache in his absence.
And don’t get him wrong, Rose was absolutely wonderful; she had cheered him across the stage with a blushing bouquet and wide smile, and Rafe was sure that hiring a professional photographer had been her idea. But she didn’t know all of him the way his father did; he held Lillian’s gaze within his own, and that in itself heightened the loss Rafe felt at his non-attendance.
Things used to be so different before she had passed away, and he often found himself reminiscing about his old life with a poignant sense of detachment. As though those memories didn’t belong to him, as though they defined an entirely different Rafael.
When Rafe Cameron was dejected, he didn’t feel like himself. He wasn’t this guy, the one who dwelled on his own trauma and guilt. He was loud and blithe and carefree to a fault, and it was his connection to you that managed to bring those qualities back out. Because though there was cement in his stomach and shackles tightening at his chest, they gave way almost too easily when you gave your valedictorian speech near the end of the ceremony.
And — once. You met his eye in the crowd exactly once. It wasn’t much at all, but it was enough to oust the heavy lump in Rafe’s throat. You were saying something sweet about how capable the graduating class was, but in that very moment, it felt as though your words were meant only for him.
“And I know that we’re a summer away from going our separate ways,” you continued, wearing a flowing gown and a loose cap that covered looser tresses. Your lips looked soft, your eyes impossibly bright, and your glowing skin reminded Rafe that his mother had once been this young. “But I have a funny feeling that we’ll return to the Banks when all’s said and done.”
—
“Sweetheart,” Rafe greeted with a grin, taking his time dragging his eyes over your figure. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your graduation dress, he noted, and the soft lilac looked ethereal cascading down your curves. He absently loosened his tie, and the fabric of your dress creased as you folded your arms across your chest. “You look —”
“Not in the mood,” you interrupted curtly, attempting to sidle past him to minimal avail.
Rafe faltered at the harsh register of your tone, brow furrowing as he shifted his gaze toward Topper and Kelce. Standing on either side of you, they looked more than a little sheepish, and Rafe realised that they must not have told you yet. You were set to leave tomorrow, and were still none the wiser to the change in plan. Unbelievable. You couldn’t have picked worse best friends. If you and him were together (and his chest thrummed then, soft and anticipatory as though the ‘if’ should have actually been a ‘when’), he wouldn’t dream of throwing you in the deep end like this. If you and him were together —
“Rafael,” you repeated with a frown, bringing him out of his reverie. “What are you doing?”
In the midst of his daze, you must have attempted to side-step his figure. His hand held your wrist against his chest, and it was with a start that he realised he had stopped you without apprehending it. Your skin was unbelievably soft. Rafe’s thoughts fragmented as the pad of his thumb brushed over your palm.
“You look like you belong,” he pulled you a little closer, eyes trained on the angle of your throat as you swallowed, “right here.”
The ease of his admission left you momentarily disarmed, and Rafe took the opportunity to straighten and send Topper a reproachful glance.
“There’s one more thing,” he added carefully, using his free hand to give his shirt collar a nervous tug. “So, about tomorr—”
Topper’s pointed cough behind you forced a falter, and Rafe cocked his head to one side, silently daring the boy to stop him.
“Cameron,” he let out an awkward laugh, eyes wide and pleading where they met Rafe’s. “Aren’t you going to let us in?”
Rafe scanned Topper’s features with a knitted brow, allowing a pause before letting out a defeated huff.
“Yeah, of course,” he responded after a beat, loosening his clasp on your wrist to usher Kelce and Topper forward. “Come on in.”
You shivered at the loss of contact, taking a step back to sidle into the space between your best friends. Topper was quick to throw an arm around your shoulder, head bowed as he murmured something sweet in your ear. There rose a heat in your cheeks, and it brought a funny twang to Rafe’s heartstrings. It felt like cruel, ugly jealousy, the kind that didn’t settle quite right in his chest. And it wasn’t as though he could do anything about it — you weren’t his (yet), and you had a soft smile on your lips that he would sooner die than come to ruin. Rafe Cameron was a master at letting you go. Perhaps that was why you were equally skilled at finding your way back home.
“You coming?”
You turned your head to where he still stood near the doorway — your eyes were keenly trained on Kelce, so why did it feel as though the sentiment was for him?
“Yeah,” Kelce nodded quickly, hurriedly, eagerly — go, his eyes appeared to say, Topper, please, take her away. “I just need to speak to Cameron about something.”
Your brow knitted at the revelation, forehead creasing in a way that had Rafe’s thumb itching to smooth it out. Scanning his features carefully, you nodded a response in the beat that passed, allowing Topper to whisk you away just as Rafe rounded on Kelce’s figure.
“C’mon,” Rafe accused, raising an eyebrow at Kelce’s sheepish features. “When the fuck were you planning on telling her?”
“Hey,” Kelce responded defensively, raising his arms in surrender. “Not technically my prerogative. Let the record show that I still think this is a terrible fucking idea.”
“But,” he added, wincing preemptively, “it’s happening. And I do think she deserves to hear about it from us, not you.”
“Then fucking tellher,” Rafe urged, fixing Kelce with a punishing glare. “Smith, we’re leaving tomorrow—”
“I know, I know,” Kelce sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “We will, alright? In a bit. Together.”
They were his parting words, and he managed to push past Rafe’s figure with just enough conviction to find something stronger than sparkling water. He did so just as you stumbled across a box of white-claws in the fridge (clearly labelled: for Y/n, because of course they were — you were at Tanny fucking Hill). So Rafe was alone, again. He was alone, he was antsy, and he needed to find his best friend.
“There you are!” Noah greeted, tipping back his beer before dapping Rafe up. “I was just telling Rose, here,” he cocked a brow, corners of his mouth twitching as he jerked a thumb toward Rose’s figure, “about how fucking bored I’m going to be all summer.”
“Ah,” Rose nodded apologetically, giving Noah’s shoulder an amiable pat. “Well, you’re always welcome to come to Tannyhill, Noah, even when Rafe isn’t around. I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”
“Really?” Noah questioned, making a show of displaying his gratitude. “You’re the best Rose, seriously.”
Rose winked, ever so slight, ruffling his hair playfully before taking her leave. “Have fun tonight, you two! And congratulations again on graduating!”
Noah waited until she was out of sight to flash Rafe a roguish grin, ready to goad him relentlessly until the pained expression on his features registered.
“What?” Noah asked, his smile faltering.
“She doesn’t know,” Rafe sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. “We’re leaving tomorrow, and she doesn’t even fucking know.”
Noah bit back the ‘I told you so’ on his tongue, resigned instead to casting Rafe an apologetic glance. “Shit.”
“I mean — they’ll definitely tell her, they promised they would,” Rafe added in a hurry, sure he knew exactly what Noah was thinking. “But fuck — what if this was a mistake?”
There was a long pause then, one that would come to define this story. There were two routes Noah’s response could take, and years later, Rafe Cameron would still come to wonder — would his life be any different, had his best friend taken the other?
“It’s not,” Noah announced after a beat, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s like all that fate crap you go on about. What are the chances that Kelce can’t go, and you’re the first fucking person Thornton texts? No way. This isn’t a mistake. If it was, he wouldn’t have asked you in the first place.”
—
A champagne flute in your hand and Dom Perignon on your lips, and for a moment, Rafe thought, shit. He thought, this has to be illegal, and also, that there was no way you were real. Because how could one person look this beautiful walking away from him?
Somehow, you had agreed to his accompaniment on the Euro Trip, and he wasn’t quite sure he could believe his own luck. His chest bloomed with a wonderful warmth, mind gratified by the mere thought, and he had Topper and Kelce to thank, alongside the moon and the stars. Oh, and also you. He had you to thank — you, you, you.
He stumbled forward just as you stepped out of the kitchen, managing to catch you up as you headed into the living room.
“Sweetheart,” he called easily, absently licking his bottom lip. An uninterrupted month in your presence — loose dresses and soft eyes and warm skin like sunshine, and Rafe Cameron felt like he had won the fucking lottery, for once in his life.
“What do you want now?” you scowled, rounding on him with flushed cheeks and a furrowed brow.
“To thank you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb against the contour of your cheek. He was obsessed with the way your lashes fluttered as it registered, obsessed with the way you leaned into the touch. Obsessed with you — but hey, what else was new? He had known that fact since before he had understood love. “For giving me a chance.”
“I haven’t,” you swallowed, using all of your conviction to take a step backward, “not yet.”
And it was the ‘not yet’ that gained permanence in the back of his head — the ‘not yet’ that he fixated on as the graduation party came to an end. When he found you again, it was after he had spoken with Noah about his plan. The prospect of visiting his mother’s grave had left him more than a little sentimental, and he needed a moment alone to gather his composure.
Perhaps that was why he stumbled across your figure — he may have thought that he needed a moment alone, but it was the exact opposite that would provide him with the peace he so craved. Because there you were as he turned the corner, like fate, and when he guided you to his room, there was a wonderful solidarity in the way your gaze gravitated toward that one, photo frame. The one that held Lillian Cameron’s gaze, that had your features softening in a way that made Rafe melt, just a little.
You said she was beautiful, and it was the only truth that mattered. Rafe agreed, wholeheartedly, and then he picked the photo up and held it. He felt as though he was seeing it with fresh eyes, and he wondered why he hadn’t shown you a picture of her before this. She was beautiful, just like you. Kind, just like you. Soft spoken and tender-hearted and all his, just like you. He wished you could have known her. Why hadn’t he introduced you sooner?
It was the same thing he wondered the very next morning, placing fresh peonies at Lillian’s grave before shoving his hands in his front pockets.
“I’m heading to Europe today, mom,” he said softly, crouching down before slowly exhaling, “and I keep thinking… the last time I was in France, you were there with me.”
“We aren’t going to Nice or anything,” he added quickly, combing his fingers through his hair, “so I can’t say hi to Aunt Clem or Uncle Gabe, but mom — we’re going to fucking Paris. Like, the city of love,Paris.”
There was a wistful smile on Rafe’s lips, unshed tears swallowed down before continuing. “And by we, I mean Y/n. Yeah, the very same. Her and her friend Topper, and me — like, how the fuck did that happen?”
Taking a pause, Rafe shook his head slowly, glancing down at the large bouquet before picking out a single peony from within it. He straightened with the flower held against his chest, gazing heavenward a moment before taking in a deep breath.
“Anyway,” he said finally, met with an encouraging smile when he looked back toward Noah, “it means I won’t be able to visit for a while.”
“But don’t worry!” Noah grinned, throwing his arm over Rafe’s shoulder as he stepped into his side, “I’ll drop flowers off on his behalf, Lil.”
He had called her Lil since he was a fresh-faced, seven year old. There was something Rafe Cameron loved about the constancy of the address.
Nodding his reiteration, he let out a slow breath, requiring another beat before following Noah back to his parked Jeep. The drive was reasonably quiet, the way it always was after visits, broken intermittently by the static of morning radio and the ocean breeze in the distance.
Noah pulled into the airport carpark just as Rafe’s phone dinged with a ‘where are you?’ text, helping him gather his things and pile it on to a luggage trolley. When they entered the large building, Rafe’s eyes found your figure first — oversized hoodie and tousled tresses, nothing special, but he still found himself thinking it ridiculous that you looked this fucking beautiful.
“Good morning,” Rafe greeted once within earshot, bright-eyed gaze meeting yours a moment. He broke off the stalk and threw it into the nearest bin, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear before placing the pink peony within them. “This is for you.”
Your eyes widened at his touch, fingers flying to the petals on instinct. “Seriously?”
Rafe shrugged easily, grinning when you didn’t remove it from its spot. “You’re beautiful. Peonies are beautiful —”
“Rafael,” you interrupted sternly, swallowing your hitched breath, “I — please focus.”
“Y/n,” Rafe teased, bumping your chin affectionately, “you look cute when you’re being bossy, y’know that?”
You rolled your eyes in response, focussing all of your attention on Noah (not on the way your traitorous cheeks were heating up).
“Noah, hey,” you smiled politely, and fleetingly, Rafe thought — you could be best friends if you wanted to be. Noah was just Rafe minus the overconfidence and relentless pining, so you would really like him, he decided, his personality was everything. And he was sweet to you, always kind. Perhaps when you and him were together, he could make that friendship happen, somehow.
“Y/n,” Noah grinned, sending you a playful wink. “Excited for the worst month of your life?”
You breathed an easy laugh, shaking your head bemusedly. “I sure hope so.”
“Hey,” Topper lilted, and when he tugged you into his side, Rafe didn’t miss the way your eyes widened at his proximity. “I’ll be there too —”
“And?” You teased, crinkling your nose playfully. “If anything, that makes it even worse —”
“Take it back,” Topper gasped, and it was almost as though he was enjoying this — the effect he had on you, and Rafe fucking hated it. “Take it back, or I swear to god —”
Rafe coughed. His calloused palm found the back of his neck, ghosting over the blonde locks kissing the skin there.
“Anyway,” he said then, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Should we get in line?”
You nodded in response, reaching down to pick up a bag Rafe had already placed on his own trolley.
“I can carry my own bags, Rafael,” you huffed, making to retrieve your suitcase just as he caught your hand.
“And I can carry you,” he shrugged easily, thumb brushing over the pulse point on your wrist, “but that doesn’t mean I should.”
He brought your knuckle to his lips just as your eyes widened, heartbeat in his throat and crazy, stupid love in his chest. “Right?”
“Rafe —” you warned, swallowing slightly.
“Hey,” he murmured, ignoring you. “Reckon I can sit beside you on this twelve hour flight?”
And you might have said no, but fate tended to work in funny ways. Because when you insisted on the aisle seat, when a flight attendant spilled a drink on your lap, when Rafe offered up his hoodie and caught your slight, wistful stare, everything appeared to culminate, and it felt as though this had always been the plan.
“Here,” Rafe offered, pointing between you and Topper before sending the latter a meaningful glance, “swap with Top.”
“What?” Topper questioned blearily, still a little disoriented from his nap. “Why?”
You hesitated a moment, eyes darting between Rafe and Topper sheepishly. “I — uh, the view.”
“Oh,” Topper nodded, rubbing at tired eyes before standing up. “Yeah, s’algood. I need to go pee, anyway.”
“Thank you!” You exclaimed excitedly, smile widening as he sidled past you and disappeared down the aisle.
And then, a moment where time froze in its place.
You stood at the same time Rafe did, and his hands found purchase on your hips. Wearing a hoodie that held his cologne (that often held him)was dizzying enough as is, let alone feeling his fingers on your skin as you attempted to slip past him. His chest was broad against your back, warm and welcoming and — you must have been really tired then, because a small part of you was loving how this felt. A small part of you was flirting with the idea of staying right there.
You swallowed slightly, forcing yourself to separate and collapse onto Topper’s seat beside him. Refusing to make eye-contact, you fixed your gaze intently on the scene below you — it was early morning, and the promise of Paris was so very near; you could barely contain your excitement, you were finally, finallyhere.
Rafe required more than a beat to regain his composure. His fingers were still suspended in thin air, calloused palms still holding the curve of your waist. It was the only thing that mattered in that moment. In anymoment, really, that involved you and him. And he was fairly certain it couldn’t get any better than this, but then you broke the silence, and he ate his words.
“Holy shit,” you breathed, drinking in the view. “Isn’t it so beautiful?”
Perhaps it was, but Rafe wouldn’t have known — it had absolutely nothing on you, so his gaze remained transfixed on your features.
Your lips were slightly parted, your gentle eyes on the scene below you. And the early morning light was a halo on your skin, it airbrushed it — rendered it ethereal, somehow. A few more words were exchanged, ones Rafe wasn’t sure he would be able to recall. He was too busy trying not to get down on one knee, far too busy resisting the urge to profess his undying love. Your voice sounded gibberish, and it wasn’t registering at all. There was only you now, and shit — he was pathetic over the thought. He wasn’t sure his heart was capable of taking this at all.
“Rafe. What’s that face?”
You didn’t call him Rafael, and it was enough to break his reverie. He gave his backwards cap a tug, searching your features carefully before offering up an awkward shrug. “What face?” He said, “there’s no face.”
You cocked your head to one side, narrowing your eyes in a way that — unbelievable, quite literally tugged at his heartstrings, as if that was fucking possible. “Rule #1. No making that face.”
He cracked a roguish grin then, nodding an amiable response. A fake, half-hearted, teasing response, because Rafe Cameron had never been a stickler for rules. Especially not rules that concerned love, or happiness, or anything at all that involved you.
—
Rafe Cameron definitely wasn’t going to survive this summer.
He first came to terms with the revelation on day one — well, night one, if one was being meticulous about the timing of his downfall. Because when you stepped out of your hotel room in a silver sundress, features harried some but still soft in a way that shifted him off-balance, Rafe Cameron thought, fuck, I’m doomed. He thought, you look so beautiful that I’ve forgotten how to breathe. He thought, spaghetti straps are dangerous enough as is, without your figure being the one holding them up.
Topper was clearing his throat beside him, speaking in an awkward way that didn’t quite register. Your cheeks heated a little, nimble fingers fiddling with the silver chain on your neck, and Rafe found himself fixating on the soft skin there. You were rambling something endearing about how you weren’t sure about the dress, wide eyes and frown lines and — Rafe’s arm moved of its own accord, then.
The small part of him capable of rational thought piped up, assuring you a “no, c’mon” before guiding you toward down the corridor and toward the elevator. Rafe always had a sneaking suspicion that you had a schoolgirl crush on Topper, it was plainly written in the way that you acted when he was around. It was genuine and predictable — a crush, but was it as deep as true love?
Unrequited,maybe, but the way Topper’s eyes lingered on your figure appeared not to agree with the sentiment. And though it didn’t quite settle right in his stomach, your embarrassed smile brought about a selflessness he employed far too often. He wanted to inject your smile into his skin. He could survive off the feeling that your soft smile gave him.
The past five years of his life had been teasing quips and going all in, but perhaps it was time he proved to you how serious he really was. You were the real deal, and he may have even believed that you and him were endgame, once. But when he registered the subtle chemistry between you and Topper, he realised that that wasn’t it at all. All this time he had assumed that it was you that he desired; you were the girl of his dreams, after all, someone he had pined for as long as he could remember. But really, you, happy — that was what he was chasing. You, content, with someone who deserved you — that was what he wanted.
It was probably why he made the foolish proposition in the first place. He was high on the feeling of your figure on his, the way you had absently reached for his hand earlier, tugged him close as though your life depended on it. Because a small part of you genuinely cared about him — ‘just didn’t want to lose you’, as if that was in any way possible. It was like that Taylor Swift song: invisible string. Rafe made a mental note to ask you whether you listened to it as much as he did.
Later though, when Topper and Amelie didn’t have all of your attention. Rafe presumed they had disappeared in hopes of leaving you and him alone, seemingly unaware that it was doing the exact opposite of bringing you close.
You were sad, so Rafe was, too. He no longer wanted Topper to fulfill his wingman duties, almost hoped for his return, as if that wasn’t the worst possible outcome for his own love. But Topper probably wouldn’t budge on his own, and for a moment, Rafe entertained the idea of whisking Amelie away from him. She had flirted with him too, so he was sure that it would work, but he had a funny feeling it wouldn’t have the kind of lasting effect that would nudge you and Topper together. No — he needed a better plan than just removing other girls from the equation. If he was serious about ensuring your happiness, far more drastic action was required to garner Topper’s attention.
“You really like him, huh?” Rafe questioned gently, searching your features in earnest. Your eyes were bright, a tell-tale sign that you were tipsy, and the way your expression faltered told him it was liquid courage that prompted your honest response.
“If you’re going to be a dick about it,” you frowned, as if Rafe would so much as dream of entertaining the idea, “then I’m not in the mood, Cameron.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he murmured with a frown, tucking a stray curl back into your claw clip. “Not with you.”
And you allowed yourself to believe him, just this once. Because when you talked through the proposition, your hesitance appeared to disappear a bit — you were half-way to agreeing, and it was then that you admitted it. A part of you was holding back, you insinuated, was doing so for his sake, not your own.
“This feels mean,” you muttered, swallowed slightly. And you averted your gaze then, or you would’ve seen the way Rafe’s lips parted. Because this “feels mean” to him, apparently, as though some small part of you cared. Rafe’s insides were melting, he realised. They were quite literally melting, bringing a warmth to his cheeks, and something gooey and sweet was settling in every crevice of his chest. He was malfunctioning, and fuck if any of this made sense, but the revelation only heightened his resolve — he neededyou to see that he would do anything for you, and that anything meant absolutely anything, including this.
“Let me do this for you,” he said firmly. “Whatever there is between us, you hating me, I want to fix it.”
Fix this, he thought, get us back on track. Maybe I can’t call you mine, but I sure can make you his.
And then you said that you didn’t really hate him, and he found himself teasing Rule #5. One that he couldn’t promise to abide by himself, not with the way he knew all of you off by heart. This feeling, of your figure wrapped up in his strong arms, it was the only thing that made sense in this moment. He gave himself a beat to commit it to memory, slotting you into his side just as a small frown found home on your lips. Because — well, because, he didn’t say ‘noted’, apparently, but he had far more important things to worry about.
“There they are,” he murmured softly, dipping his head a little before meeting Topper’s gaze. He had an arm around Amelie’s waist, eyebrow quirked as he gave your entwined figures a once-over.
You gulped down your nerves as it registered, smiling weakly as Rafe’s cologne overtook your senses. Perhaps you had expected more than a nod in your direction, because when Topper and Amelie disappeared again, Rafe felt your figure tense against him.
“It’s not working,” you frowned, and Rafe placed his hands on your shoulders then, inadvertently relaxing them, “he doesn’t even care.”
Except that he did, because when he came back around, there was a jealous glint in Topper’s eye that Rafe Cameron knew far too well. It told him that the ploy was working, though he wasn’t able to appreciate it in its entirety — a strong arm wrapped around your neck, a chaste kiss on your temple, and he found himself wondering how it would feel, were all of this real. He was well-versed in keeping his composure, in goading Topper just enough to garner his attention. But there was an ache in his chest — bittersweet like stale syrup, and Rafe Cameron thought: I’m definitely not going to survive this summer.
—
“Rule #7,” Topper muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned. “No flirting.”
Rafe quirked an eyebrow at the sentiment, cutting Topper a surreptitious look. You hadn’t quite managed to catch it, but the furtive glance Topper sent him told Rafe he had meant it. Keeping a strong arm around your waist (all while reminding himself that this wasn’t real — torture he didn’t mind putting his heart through, at this stage), Rafe took his time guiding you toward Musee D’Orsay. A part of him knew this ruse was sure to crack soon; Topper was beginning to come to terms with his feelings for you, and Rafe wanted to fully appreciate calling you his before he would have to let you go.
Because, shit, there was a permanence in the warmth you brought to his chest. Light and airy, like spun gold to his thoughts, and dizzying enough for his thoughts to stray to a make-out session. Fingers under the spaghetti straps of your dress, bare skin on his, and it didn’t make any sense, but Rafe swore you felt like you belonged this close. In his arms, smelling like balmy summer and Taylor Swift songs on the radio. He posed for photos with you, danced with you, laughed with you, and when he lay in his bed at night, found himself searching the line between what was fake and what was genuine.
Sure, your smile would falter when Topper disappeared, and sure, you would tense a little when he wasn’t around. But there was something real in the way your eyes twinkled when they met his — something real in how your figure naturally gravitated toward him.
In amongst the fake dating ruse, Rafe had managed to tick certain, selfish things off his own agenda — you had two of his hoodies in your room, the imprint of his lips on your temple and his backwards cap worn through. Your figure was flush against his more often than it wasn’t, and his stupid, teasing quips were no longer falling short. And most important of all, though this was a sacred thought, France knew the two of you together. The country was his mother’s home, once, and there was something about that that felt right, somehow.
“…and,” Rafe exhaled, pacing his room with adrenaline in his veins, “Thornton definitely fucking likes her, because he keeps trying to get her alone. He even got some random French chic to flirt with me when we were at the Museum —”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Noah interrupted with a frown, registering the excited lilt to Rafe’s tone, “you’re happy about this?”
“Yeah?” Rafe answered bemusedly, halting. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Why wouldn’t you — Cameron, the fuck?” Noah pinched the bridge of his nose with a huff, equal parts amused and incredulous. “Maybe because you’ve been pathetic over her since you were fucking fourteen?”
“Bro,” Rafe responded then, shaking his head patiently. “Besides the point. She has a crush on him, not me.”
Noah furrowed his brow at the revelation, unsure whether it was worth voicing his observations. Because truth be told, he didn’t buy your dislike of his best friend one bit. A million stolen glances and the way you found each other like magnets, and Noah always thought it far too predictable for you to be in love with Topper Thornton.
“How can you be so sure?” He asked after a careful beat, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Trust me,” Rafe hurried dismissively. “Anyway, we just arrived in Amalfi. Meant to be heading out for dinner soon, so I might confront him beforehand to see if he’s ballsy enough to make the first move.”
Noah huffed a defeated sigh, biting back his disapproval in favour of something far stealthier.
“Cameron…” he started slowly, taking a pause before continuing, “…no way you’re 100% okay with this.”
Rafe faltered, shrugging after a moment. “I — doesn’t matter. The whole fake dating thing was nice while it lasted, but shit… it can’t go on forever, can it?”
“That doesn’t mean you have to just —” Noah winced, back-tracking, “— uh, I mean, I don’t get it. Five years of pining, and you give up just as you’re making progress?”
“It isn’t real progress,” Rafe lied, because he couldn’t afford to think it was — this would hurt far more if he did, and would feel selfish in a way he didn’t want it to.
“Cameron,” Noah said firmly, shaking his head, “we both know that isn’t true. With all the shit you’ve been telling me about the last week —”
“No, bro, c’mon,” Rafe interrupted, raking his fingers through his hair, “I can’t — it doesn’t matter, okay? I need to do this one thing for her before she leaves me for college. Like — shit, do you know how far UPenn is from UNC? I need to leave a lasting impression, alright, because if I don’t, I’ll just be that stupid douchebag she knew in high-school. I can’t be him. I just — if I make this happen, I’m the sweet guy who helped her find true love. That has to count for something, doesn’t? When she comes back to the Outer Banks with Topper, when they have kids and a dog and all that shit that he better fucking give her, then she’ll smile at me and think — he helped make this happen. Not resent me for standing in her way.”
“True love?” Noah echoed, and it was silent for a while, the words losing their integrity with every beat that passed. “Topper’s her true love?”
“Don’t know,” Rafe shrugged, and he felt like he was lying then, but it didn’t matter; you,yourhappiness,your future — his mind was set. “But on the off chance that he is, I’m not going to be the one that fucks it up.”
So when he confronted Topper a little bit later, he gained immense satisfaction in hearing the boy confess how he felt. He wasn’t sure what prompted the stern talking-to that followed — you weren’t his, and he didn’t have a foot to stand on, being this protective. But when you leaned into hisside (not Topper’s) inside the elevator, he thought that perhaps it was the right decision, after all.
He wanted to memorise the feeling of your figure against his. This was probably the last time you would ever stand in such close proximity, and he closed his eyes a moment, breathing in deep until he reallyfelt it. Because Topper was going to ask you out, soon, and you were just going to let him. And this story would end with you, Topper, and a happily ever after, and Rafe Cameron back in the shadows because of it.
“I don’t think that we need to, uh —”
“What?” You whispered, and shit — you looked nervous, almost sheepish, and he swallowed. He wanted to kiss away every frown line on your forehead. “Oh! You mean…”
You took a pause then, and Rafe felt himself leaning back in. “…you’re warm. That’s all.”
His lips parted as the words registered, the arm he had wrapped around your shoulder pulling you impossibly closer. One last time, he thought. I want to flirt with fate one last time. And when you didn’t quite pull away as silence fell, he heard violin symphonies and smelled lavender and tasted French wine on his lips. Did any of that make sense? Probably not, but it was you, and the selfish part of him thought: his.
It was only when he met Topper’s withering gaze that he forced himself to separate. He latched onto an excuse about pizza, making minimal eye contact before disappearing in search of it. It was a poorly planned escape, but it was enough of a distraction to numb the foreboding ache that was making its way into his chest.
This was the right thing to do… wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure why it brought about this emptiness he couldn’t shake. Like he was betraying you, somehow, not allowing fate to run its natural course. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that that line of reasoning was a slippery slope. He couldn’t let himself believe it. Ignore, ignore, ignore.
“If you love someone, let them go,” he said, trying his best to mean it. A leggy blonde whisked him away from you and Topper, and he let her do so with a strained smile and forced farewell. There was nothing left for him here. It was time that he accepted it.
She was gorgeous, all sun-kissed skin and full lips, though Rafe wasn’t sure that those qualities meant anything to him. If he was the douchebag he was attempting to epitomise, he would have used her to forget about you. Why couldn’t he?
“I’m Frankie,” she greeted with a wink, handing him a Bellini before bumping her shoulder against his, “and you’re American.”
“Rafe,” Rafe grinned, tipping it back and licking his bottom lip. “Is the accent really that obvious?”
“Unfortunately,” Frankie nodded sagely, eyes twinkling as they met his, “but hey, you got the fact that you’re cute going for you. That’s definitely something, isn’t it?”
“Something we have in common, then,” Rafe lilted, enjoying the way she blushed as it registered.
She breathed a laugh before leaning a little closer, lips brushing Rafe’s jaw, and — fuck, he felt nothing. Sure, flirting was plenty of fun; he could do it in his sleep, get her in his bed just as easily. He could, but something about it felt wrong.
You had branded him a douchebag back in freshman year, and the descriptor had stuck until very recently, in France. And though he had made peace with this fact a long time ago, a part of Rafe still worried that a meaningless hook-up would garner your disapproval. He didn’t want to be that guy, anymore — the one that disappointed you. He had done so once, with cocaine and shitty decisions losing him your trust, and he wasn’t sure your relationship would survive another indiscretion, on his part.
So he drew backward just as Frankie puckered her lips, meeting her perplexed gaze with a sheepish expression.
“Shit, sorry,” he said apologetically, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, “I didn’t mean to give off the wrong impression.”
Frankie blinked. She paused, scanning his features carefully, and when she clocked it, she let out an exasperated sigh. She was blind, apparently, and more than a little naive, because all of the clues were right there in front of her and she had still managed to miss them.
“You didn’t,” she winced, combing her fingers through her blond tresses. “I thought that girl was with your friend. It’s my mistake.”
Rafe faltered, brow furrowing. “She is.”
“Ah,” Frankie exhaled, features softening, “sorry. One sided love sucks.”
“I —” Rafe hesitated, realising in the beat that passed that it was fruitless to try and deny it, “— yeah.”
Frankie gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, gulping down the rest of her Bellini before taking a step back. “Well, good luck with that. I better not keep you from her for more time than necessary.”
Rafe nodded a grateful response, watching her figure disappear into the crowd before setting his sights on you. The bar was reasonably crowded, boozy individuals at every turn, but there was something strangely magnetic about the way he knew exactly where to look.
He wasn’t sure he could explain it, but there was an impatience to the way he navigated the dance floor. His demeanour held a gnawing sense of foreboding, as though he could sense that something was about to go wrong. He quickened his pace, steps sharp and terse, trying his best to find you before trouble did.
And it was like he knew, of course he did, that you were being harrassed by someone brawny and unwelcome. The stranger appeared to tower over you, firm hands on bare skin, and the way you were shrinking was enough for Rafe’s anger to bubble red-hot. It swirled in the pit of his stomach like something egging him on, fuelled by guilt and sheer outrage and — shit, you were being heckled. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered fleetingly whether Topper was nearby. The thought lingered for a moment before being replaced by something far stronger — it didn’t matter where the other boy was, because this was his fucking responsibility, and he had failed.
He didn’t deserve you, but you deserved this hulky stranger far less. Because who the fuck did he think he was, teasing an embrace or even just attempting to look your way? Rafe’s shoulders were squared, his figure pushing through the crowd at an alarming pace. You were beautiful, and impossibly gentle, and the way your expression faltered was his final straw.
This, he thought blindly. His fists were blanched at his sides, near-vibrating with adrenaline and acrimony, and Rafe thought, this is the Universe giving me a second chance. He thought, I’m not going to fuck this one up. And it wasn’t as though the idea was in any way rational — fourteen felt too young to understand the true cause of his mother’s death, and that was probably why he felt to blame for it all. But not this time, he thought, a long step forward closing the space between your figure and his. Complacency isn’t going to hurt another person I love.
He was within earshot now, and a muscle in Rafe’s jaw ticked at the stranger’s taunt.
“I think she said no,” he warned, and you audibly exhaled. His name was impossibly soft on your lips, and it brought forth an entirely new sense of guilt. Because he should have been there — should have been an arm’s length away, but he wasn’t, and you were alone, and now, a stranger’s touch had found purchase on wrists that weren’t his.
Rafe wanted to make this hurt. He wanted to coat his blanched knuckles with something permanent, and it almost prompted him to throw the first punch. But then his cold, blue gaze met yours a moment, features softening at the panicked way your expression transformed. You took his hand, slotted into his side like home, and though there was a pleading lilt to your tone, the words you spoke told him you didn’t realise how much better you deserved.
“Apologise to her,” he ordered, because he most certainly wasn’t going to let this one go. He was going to force a muttered sorry through a strangled throat if it was the last thing he did on this Earth. He was going to break this man’s nose and probably do the same with his dirty fingers. He was going to beat him to a pulp, and then some, because how fucking dare he —
“Rafe,” your voice seemed a little far-away, the crack of his knuckles far more resonant. You said, “it doesn’t matter,” as if any part of him was going to believe you. And then, “let’s just go”, as though you really really wanted to. Your voice held an undercurrent of trepidation — something terse and panicked that prompted Rafe’s attention. He forced out a harsh breath, willing his features to soften, because this wasn’t about him, nor his need to get even. You, taken care of, thatwas what he wanted.
“Y/n…” his eyes met yours, zero-ed in like it was his full time job. Your shoulders relaxed. He felt you lean close like you belonged. “You’re sure?”
You nodded several times, appearing hurried, but it didn’t matter how quick you thought you were — the fight was lost before it had even begun.
Because of course the jerk was going to provoke Rafe with you, and of course Rafe was going to throw the first punch. The taunt rang through his ears like something cruel and unforgiving, numbing the harsh sting that his second punch brought. Then his third, his fourth coating his signet ring with blood. It was only when the gash on his forehead began to crust that he allowed a pause, grip punishing as he placed the stranger back onto the ground.
It took several, painful bruises and a crooked nose to get the words out of his mouth, but Rafe didn’t mind — he would get into a thousand more fights to defend your honour. A million more, a billion;he could do this all day, if you wanted him to. Because though Rafe’s satisfaction was momentary, it was enough to vindicate every single, irrational thought.
He hadn’t yet noticed his own injuries when he turned toward you, and it was perhaps why his brow furrowed as he took in your expression. Your eyes were wide, worry on your lips, and the desperate way you were dragging him away from the scene prompted his thumb to brush over the bleeding gash on his.
For a single, infinitesimal moment, Rafe wondered whether he could fix this by kissing you slow. Holding you close, soft skin and softer lips, and Rafe found himself thinking — your gentle touch would act better than stitches. There was a metallic taste on his tongue, a deep cut smarting the skin above his eyebrow, but he wasn’t sure he minded either of them, not with the way your nervous gaze met his features. You looked scared, nimble fingers clasping his wrist, and he barely registered Topper’s cursed admonishment behind him. Your breathing was jagged, and he frowned a bit as it registered, more than a little bewildered. Because despite your pained expression, despite your soft touch on his knuckles, your words were saying one thing, and your wide-eyed gaze another.
“You’re bleeding,” you swallowed slightly, and Rafe’s eyes fell to the column of your throat. It looked soft, unblemished, framed by stray curls that appeared disheveled. It was definitely the adrenaline talking (and perhaps the after-effects of several, strong Bellini’s), but for a moment, Rafe Cameron flirted with the idea of purpling your skin. There was a sensitive spot right beneath your earlobe, with raised goosebumps and nerve-endings on fire, and Rafe wanted to do something lawless and stupid. He wanted to taste you, and —
“…not to mention, you’re a fucking idiot.”
The reprimand was stern enough for Rafe to crack a roguish grin, his teasing response an attempt to diffuse the tension. “But I’m youridiot.”
Your brow pinched at the playful quip, and it did something syrupy sweet to Rafe’s conviction. There was a worried lilt to your tone, almost as though a part of you cared about him, and fuck if he was halfway to a head injury, but in that moment, Rafe thought, worth it. He thought, I’ll always take care of you before I take care of myself. He thought, if it was between you getting hurt and me, I’d choose the latter a million times over. God, if only you knew. Do you have any idea the lengths I’d go, just to keep you safe?
“…and, we’re in a foreign country, and —”
We may be in a foreign country, Rafe thought, but it seems I still have those same, Outer Banks feelings for you.
“You know,” he teased, pressing his tongue against his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”
“Rafael.”
And there was something about the way his name sounded on your lips — Rafe Cameron wasn’t certain he would ever get used to it. Perhaps a part of him knew he wouldn’t have to; knew that fate tended to work in strange ways, and would lead you back to him eventually. Because something changed then, and it was written in the natural way you leaned right into him. A halo, bright and warm, and Rafe thought, this is it. He thought, I want this feeling to last forever.
—
“I don’t know,” you had said. I don’t know, and then some other words that had stuck to Rafe’s insides like fresh cement. The kind that hardened with every beat that passed; gained permanence through the way Topper’s apprehension matched yours.
And though Rafe knew that he was selfish to ignore it, a jealous part of him found itself justifying his actions through the exact opposite. Because technically, he had done his duty as a friend and confidante. He had delivered several, stern admonishments when Topper had panicked, and ensured his own scarcity so that your date didn’t include him. Bartender girl was reasonably attractive; someone disposal to distract him from the envy poisoning his thoughts. And, her name on a napkin had passed the ‘i’ test — Noah White would approve, and that was what he decided to focus on.
Not the subtle way you had begun leaning into his touch, nor the way you tended to gravitate toward him when the three of you were out. Not the warmth of your skin, nor the way you reached for his hoodies over your own; more teasing quips, nowadays, more conversations that felt two-sided, instead of one.
But Rafe wasn’t focussing on that. He wasn’t focussing on the fact that two glasses of Sav got you drunk, nor the fact that drunk you tended to get handsier, somehow. He wasn’t focussing on the fact that you often fiddled with the signet ring on his thumb, nor how you mumbled something soft about wanting a similar one. He had broken several rules in succession, but he wasn’t focussing on the fact that you didn’t seem to mind it anymore. Thrown you over his shoulder more times than one, but he definitelywasn’t thinking about the way your waist fell against his palm. Not the curve of your hips, nor the sunshine on your legs, nor that onesundress with thin straps that his forefinger always found.
You had worn it to a wine-tasting near the Amalfi Coast, requiring little more than a Pinot Noir to giggle something sweet and tug Rafe close. It was the first time everyou had teased nimble fingers through his locks, and when your bright-eyed gaze had met his, he was certain his heart had stopped. But Rafe wasn’t focussing on that. And his mind definitely wasn’t doing a play-by-play of it every time his tired eyes shut.
“Rafaellllll,” you lilted, all bright eyes and flushed cheeks as you peered up at him. “Can I say something?”
Rafe nodded a roguish grin, steadying your hips with strong hands as you stumbled. “Careful, sweetheart.”
“I think,” you wrapped an arm around his neck, reaching up to ruffle his gelled locks just a bit, “your hair looks better long. And messy.”
You continued your assail until his hair was adequately hand-mussed, leaning all of your weight against his bicep in order to draw back and survey the damage.
“There,” you nodded, coating soft lips with crimson as you tipped back your wine glass. “That’s better.”
“You look like the boy-next-door types I tend to fall in love with, now,” you added as an afterthought, using the words ‘love’ and ‘you’ in the same sentence as though Rafe Cameron wasn’t already halfway to a heart-attack. And fuck if he understood exactly what you meant by that, but you had called it love,and he felt it like someone had poured maple syrup onto his heart. Sweet and gooey, and it had definitely stuck — but again, Rafe digressed, he wasn’t focussing on it at all.
He had separated from you and Topper a long while ago, sure that keeping his distance was the only way to go. But then, you threw a spanner in the works, and drunk texted him to “come party” as though any part of him could eversay no.
“Rafael!” You slurred dopily, stumbling right off your barstool and into his chest. And it didn’t help that Sofia’s words still swirled within its depths; she was far more perceptive than he needed her to be, bringing forth a sense of pining he was trying desperately to bury.
He caught you against him, and for a moment, he wondered what it would take to keep you there. Safe, Rafe thought fleetingly, exactly where you belong. But the thought passed as quickly as it had come, and he plastered on the same, roguish grin he always had when you were around. “Y/n! How much did you guys drink?”
“A lot,” you responded, and your voice was solemn, low, double in its meaning and the way it brought Rafe’s stomach a punishing blow, “needed it.”
Topper Thornton wasn’t speaking up. And when he did meet Rafe’s searching gaze, it was to mutter a defeated “she wanted you to come.”
He was missing something, he was sure of it, but before he could bring it up, you were turning on your heel and downing another shot. And wrinkling your nose, and shaking your head, and stumbling right into Topper’s torso now, and it felt as though everything was moving in slow motion because how the fuckdid someone look thisbeautiful when they were drunk?
“Be honest,” you said to him, but Rafe’s mind was miles away when you did, not quite there since “not like you” had fallen from downturned lips.
And Topper was right, you were drunk, but where had that panicked look in his eye come from?
“S’ruined now?” You asked then, words slurring to the point of no return. The way you wobbled had Rafe’s mind reeling; he wrapped an arm around your waist like damage control, hoping to diffuse the tension before things got out of hand.
But they already had, a long while ago, and Topper’s unawareness of this fact only p
summary: rafe gets you & him stuck in a boat in the middle of nowhere for 5 days, with no signal and having to wait for the patrol. ‘Accidentally’. [spoiler: it wasn’t]
warnings: swearing, (rough) smut, manhandling, choking kink, rafe being a plotting lil shit, my english.
word count: 8.2K [sorry it’s kinda long. went overboard w this]
DAY 0
Your eyes narrowed slightly as you analyzed the blond standing in front of you, your arms were crossed firmly across your chest. His eyebrows were raised as he awaited your answer, his back pressed against the kitchen island.
“And you want me to accompany you, why?” You questioned, waiting for a decent explanation.
“’Cause your brother has an event with Topper and Kelce,” he explained quickly as he shrugged his shoulders with ease. “And I need someone to go with me.”
For more context, Rafe Cameron had asked you to accompany him on a little trip on his boat, there is a very specific kind of fish he wants to catch passing through the waters near Outer Banks; Rafe justifies his need to get that fish because it is his father’s favorite, and he wants to show himself capable of catching it.
“And why don’t you ask your sisters for help?” you questioned him, with some suspicion still.
“Mm, because they are my sisters.” he answered with obviousness, it was a simple but logical answer; the truth is that not even his sisters could stand his annoying ass.
And that’s what brought him to you, or at least that’s what he’s implying. And while you don’t actually believe him, it’s not like you could perceive any hidden intentions. You should’ve, but you couldn’t.
You see, even though Damien, your older brother, and Rafe have been friends for YEARS, your relationship with Rafe isn’t precisely the best. He has always been annoying, selfish, egocentric, and an idiot.
A hot idiot; for that matter, which made it complicated to hate him.
The relationship the two of you shared was based in teasing, lots of it, but of course, over the years it has changed. It went from a young Rafe teasing you for crying over princess’ movies, to letting his eyes linger in your lips for longer than usual, casual grazings, and shameless comments.
All that, combined with his idiotic attitude, made the two of you have a constant banter-based relationship; all you two did was bicker, tease and sass the hell out of each other. Just like an old, married couple. Except you two weren’t married, and couldn’t make up as easily.
It drove your brother insane. He didn’t care what it was that would get you and Rafe to stop bantering. He just wanted the two of you to stop.
“So? Are you coming with me or…” Rafe insisted, you had taken way too long to answer a simple yes or no question.
You already knew it was probably one of the worst ideas he’d ever had, and considering it’s impulsive, spontaneous Rafe we’re talking about… it was indeed terrible.
“No.” you replied simply, with no further explanation or motives as to why.
Rafe looked actually taken aback by that, not being used to getting ‘no’ for an answer, not even from you. Though, he knew the only reason you’d said no was to contradict him, and you, having no apparent reason to refuse, was an open invitation for Rafe to keep insisting.
“Come on, it’ll only be two days out,” Rafe insisted, using the nicest voice he could. “Out there in the nice sea, in the Druthers, with food, drinks and a nice AC system… yeah?”
“You do realise my family also has a boat with AC?” you cleverly added. “And if I wanted to, I could go out to the nice sea with snacks too.”
“But uh, do tell me, does your boat have a double jacuzzi?” he questioned you with a raised eyebrow, and at that, you shut your mouth.
“I—”
“Uh huh, exactly.”
“I can live without it.”
“Oh, c'mon Y/N,” Rafe sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if recharging his patience before adding. “I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever it is, I’ll get it for you. The only condition is you coming with me.”
That really got you thinking.
Your family had money and influence, but no more than the Camerons. What Rafe promised you could range from drugs, to designer clothes and handbags, to that sort of thing. It really was anything.
Rafe may be an idiot, too impulsive and lately, coked out 90% of the time, but he can have a way with words if he puts his mind to it, you had to give that to him.
Somehow, the idiot had made it sound like an enjoyable proposition, a good weekend. A great fucking idea.
Yes. You two, going out there to the middle of the sea, alone. Like a great idea.
You already knew it was the worst fucking idea you’d agreed to in your entire life.
“Fine.”
“You won’t regret it.”
You probably would, but oh well. Mistakes are the best teachers out there.
