the pogues could easily change the name of the group to "sarah cameron protective squad". the way they have always cared for her and tried their best to keep her safe warms my heart. they really are her family.
Rafe swallows roughly and closes the passenger door, instead leaning up against it and facing you. You stand with your arms crossed, trying to look tough when really, all you want to do is cry. You want to know why, if it's true, and if it really had been your fault. You remember how Rafe had asked you if he could tell you the truth one night, and you wish he had. It would've avoided all of this.
"Okay," he says slowly, "Can you tell me what you're thinking right now?"
"Can I tell you what I'm thinking right now?" you repeat, laughing slightly, "No, Rafe. I don't think that's a good idea."
"Okay," he says again, shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking the ground with his dress shoe, "I should've told you."
"Told me what?" you raise your voice, "I don't even understand what happened back there! One minute I'm making plans to leave with you, and the next your sister tells me it's my fault you had a... cocaine addiction? What the fuck does that even mean?"
"No, okay - fuck, babe-"
"Don't," you raise a finger at him, "Don't do all that shit with the nicknames and the stories from when we were little. I want the truth, Rafe. No bullshit."
"I'm trying," he insists, but he won't keep his eyes on you, "I just hadn't planned on having this conversation tonight-"
"You make too many fucking plans," you snap at him, "Tell me."
"All right, all right," he sighs, "It really isn't that big of a deal. I had a little at a party one night last year, and, I don't know, I kinda got hooked on it a few months later. My dad caught me, fired me, demanded that I get clean, which I did, and I haven't had anything since. I'm fine, now. It's hard, yeah, but I'd never touch that shit again."
You sigh when he finishes, closing your eyes for a moment as you process his words, "So, you were doing drugs at work?"
"Yes," he confirms, looking at the ground again.
"Why?"
"I was... dealing with something."
"What does that mean?"
"It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago and I'm fine now," he promises, peeling himself off the truck to step over to you. You don't react when he comes closer.
"When did it start?"
"Sweetheart-"
"Rafe."
He sighs, pausing briefly before he tells you, "February."
You nod your head, counting the months. You'd never noticed a change in behavior, a difference in him. Then, you remember that you and Rafe rarely spoke at the dinners back then.
"Did you ever come to dinner, high?"
He swallows visibly, "Once."
You bring one hand up to your forehead, pressing your cool hand up to your burning skin. You try to recall when that might have been, but you never noticed. You'd been too busy with-
"Rafe," you say suddenly, feeling as if the entire puzzle had just come together.
His eyes shoot up to look at you, and when he does, he knows you know.
"February. That's when I started dating John B."
"I know."
His voice is sheepish, quiet, scared. You exhale loudly, dropping down so you're squatting in your heels. You need to sit, but you don't want to get in the truck and there's nowhere else to go but back inside. He steps forward instinctually, but backs off when you hold your hand out.
"You-" you start, but then stop. The words will never be the right ones. You set your head in your hands, trying desperately to push the guilt down.
"I was an idiot, okay?" he speaks up, staring down at you with regret written all over his sweet face, "I made a big, fat, fucking mistake and I wish I could take it back. It was just really hard to see you with him. But it's not your fault, okay, baby? You didn't do anything wrong. Sarah's a bitch for that. Please, stand up. Or let me sit with you."
When you glance up at him, it's all the permission he needs. He rushes over and sits down on the pavement beside you, wanting desperately to reach for you but knowing better. You'll come to him when you want to.
"Rafe, I-" you stop yourself again when you realize you still don't know what to say.
He scoots closer, so close that you could shift only a bit and then collapse into his lap. You think about it for a moment, then pause when he starts speaking.
"You don't have to say anything. I just didn't want you to spend the entire night not knowing. Now that you do, you can make up your mind."
You look up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Make up my mind?"
"Yes," he nods, as if it's obvious, "If you still want to be with me or not. I understand if-"
"Hold on," you stop him, "You think that I'd - what? Duck and run?"
He just nods, swallowing visibly. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, and for some reason, it makes your stomach tighten. You sigh and let your instincts take over, falling into his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. He's surprised for a moment, but recovers well. He makes sure no part of your dress is touching the ground, yet wastes no time pulling you as close as you can get.
"I'm not going anywhere," you whisper, leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," he mumbles.
"Hey," you whisper, running a hand through his hair when he looks at you, "I'm really sorry. I can't believe that fucked up your life so bad. I really had no idea, otherwise I wouldn't have-"
"I know," he stops you, "It's not your fault. You were happy then, and who could blame you? He was your first love, your first boyfriend. You deserved to be happy. I was just selfish."
"Rafe," your voice sounds crushed, and you can feel your eyes starting to mist when you imagine how he must have been feeling, listening to you ramble on about John B for hours on end every dinner, "You're not selfish. I'm so sorry."
He shakes his head, and when you feel your eyes well up even more, you throw yourself around him so he doesn't see a tear fall. He grips onto you, hugging you as if his life depends on it. Maybe it does.
You sniffle accidentally, feeling him tense up immediately. He grabs the sides of your torso and pulls you off of him, bringing both hands up to your cheeks.
"Oh, my God, baby, no," he whines, "Please, don't cry."
"I should've known. About all of it."
He shakes his head again, bringing the base of his thumb up to your eye and wiping away any remnants of water there. Your little hands travel up and down his back, scratching slightly.
"None of this is your fault, all right? Do you understand me? It's all me. I didn't tell you about how I feel. I didn't tell you about the drugs. I didn't even tell you that I fucking pushed Scott out of that tree house-"
"Stop," you sigh, trying to get him to focus on the stuff that actually matters.
"I'm sorry," he grumbles, "I just keep screwing up, I feel like."
You let out a low laugh, which makes him smile, "Look where I'm sitting right now, then tell me you screwed up."
He smiles for a second, then makes a face, "Sweetheart, you're sitting on the dirty pavement of a church parking lot in a beautiful dress because I just told you I had a drug addiction. I'd say we can put that in the 'screwed up' category."
You shake your head, rolling your eyes playfully at him, "I'm sitting in your lap, Rafe. Do you really think I'd be here if all you were doing is screwing up?"
"I guess not," he mumbles, dropping his eyes to your lap.
You reach down and wrap your fingers around his chin, "Hey."
"What?" he asks, his voice quiet.
"You don't have to be that guy with me. You can tell me the truth. No matter how messy or screwed up it is."
"I know," he whispers.
"Good," you reply, leaning your head down and angling it just so, "Can you kiss me, now?"
Rafe smiles, nodding his head slightly, "I think I can handle that."
He sets his lips on yours, kissing you so gentle that you swear your knees would go weak if you weren't already down. His hand makes its way to your cheek, holding you to him for another moment.
"I don't want to be alone tonight, Rafe," you whisper when he pulls back.
"Me neither."
There's a silent understanding between the two of you, and when you move to stand, he offers you his hand to help. He stands quickly once you're upright, immediately pulling you in for a hug. You bury your head in his neck, leaving little kisses on his skin as he squeezes you. You can't help but feel like you have a lot to make up to him; over the years you'd been a complete bitch and he'd been suffering in silence.
All he ever wanted was for you to love him.
And as you sit there, tasting his skin and feeling the way he strokes his hand across the bare skin of your back, you're sure you do. You'd never been loved like this before, but you also have never loved anyone like this before. The sudden realization overwhelms you, only fueling your kisses. You move up his neck and underneath his ear, then along his jaw.
"Baby," he warns, voice low. Like you need to know what you're getting yourself into before you continue.
"Hmm?" you hum innocently, continuing your pursuit down his jaw and toward his chin.
"Now, hold on a minute," he practically moans, "What's gotten into you?"
"Just trying to make it up to you," you mumble, dragging your lips up to his.
"Wait," he stops you, grabbing the side of your face and pulling you back, "What did you say?"
"I'm trying to make it up to you, Rafe."
His jaw drops slightly, but he recovers and clenches it quickly, "That's what I thought you said."
He drops his hands from around you, stepping away and turning his back, walking back up toward the doors to the reception hall.
"Where are you going?" you ask, starting to follow him.
You can tell he's frustrated by the way his back is tense and his fists are balled at his sides. He doesn't respond to your words, so you hurry as fast as you can in your heels and reach out for his arm when you're close enough.
"Rafe," you say, stopping him with a tight grip.
"Since you won't listen to me," he starts, spinning around quickly, "I'm going to drag Sarah out here by her hair to apologize to you."
You stutter back, watching how the anger sets in his face. His eyes are dark and his jaw is clenched, shifting every so often as he thinks about how angry he is with Sarah for even implying that it was your fault.
"No, you're not," you sigh.
"Then what the fuck is it going to take for you to understand that you don't owe me anything? I'm responsible for my decisions, Y/N. Not you."
You nod your head, feeling more like a reprimanded child than Rafe's girlfriend. He softens at your expression, wrapping his fingers through yours as his way of apologizing for his tone.
"I'm sorry," you say quietly, "I just feel guilty. And-"
"And, nothing."
"I can't just stop feeling guilty, Rafe. Can you give me some time to work through all this?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he nods slowly. You glance down at your shoes, realizing how much they're actually hurting your feet.
"Yeah, I guess that's fair."
You smile slightly, stepping toward him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You're so sure he would've dragged Sarah out here, too. He wasn't bluffing.
"Can we go home now?"
Rafe looks up at you, goofy grin breaking out onto his face for the first time in over an hour.
"I really like that question," he admits, "Yes. Of course. Let's go."
He wraps his fingers up in yours and leads you back to the truck, holding the door open for you and giving you one of his hands to help you climb up. The drive home remains quiet - mostly because all of the words had already been spoken. Rafe keeps his hand in yours as you both silently process the night.
When you two arrive back at Rafe's, the house is silent. It's nice, knowing everyone else is not home and out of your way. If things hadn't gone downhill, Rafe would be in heaven coming back to an empty house, where the two of you could be as loud as you want, do whatever you want, with no lingering eyes or ears.
"Are you hungry?" he asks you quietly, leading you into the kitchen and pulling out two water bottles.
"No," you tell him, "I'd really just like to change and lay down."
Rafe nods, taking your hand in his once more and taking you upstairs to his room. Although you remember where it is in the house, you remember that you haven't actually been in it for many years.
You look around his room the second you enter it, observing the bunch of dress shirts on his dresser that had been discarded after work every night this week, and the stack of books about a mile high on his desk.
Rafe sets a pair of fresh boxers and a shirt of his on his bed, "There you go, babe."
You nod a thank you to him, still taking in his room. Everything about it seems perfectly normal. Just as you're about to give up, ready to wrap yourself up in Rafe's sheets, you spy the picture frames that line his wall above his desk. Four of them, to be exact. You step over to observe them more carefully.
One is a picture of he and Topper and Kelce on the golf course. It looked to be pretty recent. The stupid grin on Topper's face makes you laugh. The second is a picture of his whole family at Midsommers a few years ago. You remember the grey suit he had worn that night, and you hadn't thought twice about it. Funnily enough, you were crushing on JJ Maybank at the time. The third is a picture of he and Wheezie, both making goofy faces at the camera.
The fourth makes your heart stop.
It's a picture of you and Rafe, taken on that cruise you had taken when you were thirteen and he was fifteen. Your mom had forced you into a photo on the beach, clear blue water behind you. Rafe had awkwardly wrapped his arm around your shoulder, telling you it was so the picture would look nice. You had just shrugged, not bothering to wrap your arm around him, too. He had pretended not to notice.
Your eyes well up, staring at the photo of a boy who so desperately just wanted to be noticed by some girl who spent the entire trip trying to find the perfect, tan, thirteen year old boy on the beach to sweep her up. He really had loved you all along. A tear falls from your eye before you can help it, turning around to him. His expression changes when he sees you, immediately stepping over to you.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, voice heavy with concern.
He sets his hands on your hips, pulling you toward him. You look back at the picture, pointing at it so he knows what you're trying to talk about.
"Oh, shit, yeah," he trails off, realizing he'd been caught, "Why are you crying, though?"
He brings a hand to your cheek, stroking your skin with his own. The motion, the picture, everything from tonight, makes you feel it in your chest. Again. The same feeling you'd gotten in the parking lot with him. The love, the want.
"Because," you mumble through your emotions, trying to pinpoint exactly what it is you want to say.
"Because, what?"
"Because, I love you, Rafe. And it's new. But you - you've loved me since I was... that," you turn, pointing to the little girl in a two piece she had taken insanely seriously as a thirteen year old. She was a brat.
Rafe swallows, trying to decide which part of your declaration he would like to address first.
"I happened to enjoy that bathing suit very much," he mutters, voice thick through his own emotions.
You laugh, making everything worth it to him. He smiles, more out of relief that the tension is broken. Even crying, you're still the most gorgeous to him.
"I'm trying to tell you something right now," you say, smile still evident on your lips.
"I heard you," he nods, "I just need a moment. I had this planned out, too. I was going to tell you when I thought you were ready. I had no idea-"
"You really need to knock it off with the planning," you demand.
"I can't help it. I've been wanting this all my life, I'm not messing it up," he whispers the last part, making your heart squeeze, "Why do you always throw my plans off balance?"
"Apparently, it's the only thing I'm good at when it comes to you," you mutter.
He shakes his head immediately, "I can think of plenty of other things."
You smile, letting his kiss take over all of your senses. You've forgotten about the sheets, about changing your clothes or taking your heels off. It's just him, right now.
He pulls away, but when he speaks, you can still feel his lips on your own, "I love you, too, if it wasn't obvious."
You smile and pull him back to you by his tie, and both of you realize that you, in fact, will not be needing a change of clothes, after all.
The morning comes fast, too fast, and when Rafe's alarm sounds, you refuse to move a muscle. You feel him pull one arm out from around you and shut it off, then roll right back and set his arm in the exact spot it had been in. You smile to yourself, grateful he's wrapped around the back of you and doesn't know you're awake.
Just as you're ready to fall back to sleep completely, you feel his fingertips start to travel up and down the length of your stomach. Even though you're pressed up against him completely, he needs to feel more of you. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he continues his effortless and gentle touches, splaying his fingers across your stomach and then back in again.
You never want this to end.
Plain and simple.
The thought of getting up, moving from your position in Rafe's sheets, away from his smell and his naked body, feels like torture. You know loving Rafe is fast, but it doesn't feel fast to you. It feels right. It feels natural, almost like it's what you should've been doing all along.
You turn around in his arms, desperate to see his face. He feels you shift and groans slightly, but doesn't loosen his grip around you in the slightest. His eyes are still glued shut and his hair is a mess, but you've never seen a better sight than this one. You reach your hand up and stroke his cheek, swiping your finger along his jawline. You can feel it clench under your finger, but you don't speak yet. His eyebrows furrow slightly, and you feel excitement bubble up in your stomach when his lips part.
"No way it's really going to be you laying in my bed when I open my eyes," he murmurs, morning voice filling your ears and sounding like heaven to you.
You grin, fiddling with the chain around his neck, "Only one way to find out."
You watch as he pops open one eye only, like he's scared he might have been right. When he sees the big smile on your face, the other eye immediately opens, and the grin on his face is incomparable to any other sight you've seen in your life.
"No way," he repeats, voice only slightly above a whisper.
"Way, Cam," you tease, grin still prevalent on your lips.
"Don't even start with that," he mutters, dragging his head slowly across his pillow near you.
You smile once more, meeting him halfway and allowing him to initiate the kiss. Everything about the moment overwhelms you; his smell, his taste, the feeling of his sheets surrounding your body, the way his hands travel up and down your back.
He pulls away after a moment, laying his head down flat on his pillow and staring up at the ceiling while still keeping one arm around you.
"No fucking way," he mutters once more.
You laugh loudly, "Will you quit saying that, please?"
He shakes his head, keeping his eyes focused on the ceiling. You're convinced he's counting the fan rotations with how focused he is.
"I just don't believe I'm this lucky."
"I mean, I can leave, if you want-"
"Don't move from this bed, Y/N."
You grin, scooting closer and kissing his jaw, "I wouldn't dream of it."
He turns his head, leaning down to get another kiss from you. It feels like the perfect moment, the perfect morning. Nothing can ruin it. Except a knock on Rafe's bedroom door.
"Rafe?" Rose speaks from the other side, sounding hesitant.
"Shit," he swears against your lips, rising quickly and shoving boxers over himself, "Stay here, sweetheart."
You furrow your eyebrows, silently asking where he thinks you would go. He smirks and rolls his eyes, then pulls open his door and slips out with a slight 'Morning, Rose'. You try not to laugh, wondering what the hell Rose would need from him right now. You wonder if Scott covered for you with your parents, assuming he would know you came home with Rafe.
The door handle turns slowly, and when Rafe slips back in, his expression reads irritated. You sit up, using his comforter to cover yourself as he steps over to you, sitting down on your side.
"I need you to get dressed," he states, trying to keep his voice even, "I'm going to take you home, now."
"What?" you practically laugh, "You just told me not to get up."
"Your mom's been calling."
"Shit," you swear the same way Rafe had, throwing your head back onto his pillow.
"Apparently," Rafe grumbles, "Rose checked in on us late last night and informed your mom that you were with me."
You can tell Rafe is annoyed that Rose invaded his space - that she came in in the night and found the two of you tangled together in his bed and then told your mom about it. But, more than anything, he's annoyed that the morning - the one he's been fantasizing about forever - is being ruined by a couple of nosy women who have nothing better to do than meddle.
"Fantastic," you mutter sarcastically, frowning when he picks up his shirt off the floor and sets it on you.
"Five minutes," he says, voice almost sad, then leans forward and gives you a peck, adding, "I'm sorry."
You sigh and nod, letting him give you another kiss on the forehead before he stands and slips into the bathroom. You stand and dress, ignoring the butterflies you get from seeing your dress all tangled in Rafe's suit on the floor. You push away the memories of last night; of his kisses and the feelings you got from finally being able to be with him. You even replay his little whispers in your head, his voice in your ear telling you how much he loves you and how good it is, even better than he ever thought.
When he emerges from the bathroom, you're practically beat red in the face from remembering. You step to him and kiss him, captivating him in it for a while. He no longer cares about the time, about Rose demanding that he get you home.
"What was that for?" he asks, breathless when you pull away.
"Last night," you smirk at him.
He bites his lip, laughing quietly and trying to contain blushing of his own. He picks up your dress and carries it to his closet, aimlessly pulling out a hangar and promising to get in dry cleaned for you. Then, he takes your hand and leads you downstairs, trying his best to be quiet so as to avoid his parents.
You both successfully make it out of the house, trying to save yourselves from any more potential embarrassment being caught by them.
Rafe seems content on the drive home, regardless of the fact that your parents are probably fuming. He's with you - and he'd been with you. That seems like it's enough for him, and the rest is just noise. He tangles your fingers together as he drives, occasionally lifting your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
When he pulls into your driveway, he shuts off the truck and turns to you.
"Do you want to come in?" you ask bleakly, already knowing the answer.
"I think it's better for my overall well being if I don't," he says, and although it sounds like he's kidding, you're sure he's not.
"I'll let you know what they say."
You lean over and give him a kiss over the console, then climb out of the truck, turning back before you close the door.
"I love you," he breathes the words, almost as if he's afraid to say them again. He half expects you to jump back in fear and run away.
"I love you, too."
Despite the circumstances, he nods, inhaling the words and then exhaling a sigh of content. He bites back a smile, pretending to adjust himself in his seat to hide his beam.
You smile and then close the door, blowing him a kiss as you walk up the driveway. The front door already being unlocked is not a good sign to you, and with a deep breath, you brace yourself for lectures on lectures.
"Y/N?"
Your mother calls the second the door creaks open. You step inside and close the door, quickly glancing out the window beside the door and watching Rafe back out.
"Yeah."
Your mom emerges into the foyer, barely glancing at you in Rafe's shirt and sweatpants before sighing.
"Did you have a good night?"
You frown, "It was fine."
She sighs, letting her shoulders fall and the tenseness in her body go with them.
"I ran into Diane last night at the reception. She told me what happened between all of you outside."
You swallow, cursing yourself for being so dumb as to think that your parents would never find out about that little stunt. With the fighting and yelling and pushing, practically everyone outside saw the show.
"It was a misunderstanding, Mom."
"I was concerned you went to the Cameron's because you got hurt. I'm just glad you're okay."
You nod slowly, clenching your jaw, "I'm fine. I went to the Cameron's because - well. I'm with Rafe, Mom."
You hold your breath, waiting for the lecture on safe sex or how you didn't call or how irresponsible it is to be having sex with a family friend's son. Instead, however, her lips turn up into a smile.
"I know, honey," she smiles, "And, I think it's fantastic. That boy's been in love with you since he met you."
You throw your hands up in the air, exasperated at her words, "Did everyone know except me?"
She smiles, "It's not the kind of thing parents can meddle in. It has to work itself out."
You scoff at that, knowing that your mother and Rose would meddle in just about anything they could get their hands on. You know she's full of shit, but you don't mind. If you're not getting screamed at, you count that as a win.
"Well," you say quickly, "I'm gonna go shower, if that's all right."
"Change your clothes afterward," she whispers, "Your father will kill that boy if he sees you."
You start to laugh, but freeze when you hear your dad, "Is Y/N home?"
Your mother's eyes widen, and she starts to hurry you toward the stairs. Your father calls out again, sounding like he's getting closer.
"Mom," you say halfway up the stairs, turning to her, "Thanks."
She winks at you, then grabs ahold of your your dad's shoulder to draw his attention to something else while you make it up to your bedroom.
She had never backed you up or been that cool about anything when you had been with John B. And as you shed off Rafe's clothes to get in the shower, you can't help but wonder if everyone has been rooting for you and Rafe all along.
it’s been pouring rain over here, and i’m just imagine rafe making y/n a nice cozy dinner like soup or something and they cuddle up to watch old movies together
just a lil something small! loved this idea, happy fall besties 🍂🍁
—
new light blurb: flume — rafe cameron
summary: just a domestic and fluffy rainy day with your boyfriend rafe after his plans for the weekend get ruined by the weather
warnings: alcohol, a blurb i wrote in under an hour and then didn’t edit instead of… doing my job!
new light masterlist
“You did this.”
Rafe turns from where he’s assessing the dreary weather through the windows to the backyard, scowling at you.
“What?” you ask, barely looking up from your book.
“You made it rain today. Because you didn’t want to golf.”
“Baby,” you sigh. “I can do a lot, but I can’t make it rain.”
“I don’t believe you,” he grumbles, scowl turning into a full-on pout.
Rafe had been trying to drag you back out to the links for a long time. The phase of your relationship where you’d usually say yes just to spend time with him (and pick out his outfits) had been over for a while now; if Blythe wasn’t in town to keep you company while Rafe and Topper golfed, you really had no desire to go. You were terrible at it, it bored you to no end, but you’d still agree sometimes just to make him happy. This weekend was supposed to be one of those occurrences—you’d even bought a new dress. You figured if you were going to do horribly and risk a sunburn, you might as well look cute while you did so.
Rafe had checked in with you all week to make sure you were still up for it, his excitement palpable with every ‘are you sure?’ or ‘does this tee time work?’ or ‘you know you’ll like it more if you just let me help you with your drive, right?’
“Rafe, I know you were excited,” you hum, tipping your head back on the couch and glancing sideways at him. “We can go next weekend?”
He turns around, pointing at you accusingly. “I’m holding you to that.”
“Please do.” You pucker your lips and he strides over, bending down to kiss you before hopping over the back of the couch and settling into your side.
You momentarily go back to your book while Rafe scrolls through his phone, checking the weather.
“What should we do instead? Gonna pour all day.”
“My book’s good. You could pick one out, too.”
“Baby,” he groans, phone clicked off and set to the side. His head nudges into the junction between your neck and shoulder, his lips pressing into the skin. “No, pay attention to me.”
“Alright, can I finish this chapter, at least?”
“How many pages?”
You check, your boyfriend’s heavily-ringed left hand coming up to hold one side of the book open so you don’t lose your spot as you do. You nudge Rafe’s hand off of the pages once you find out, settling further into the couch. “Twenty.”
“Deal. Make it fast though, you know the rain puts me to sleep,” he mumbles, head not moving from its spot your chest.
“I’m always fast. Faster than you,” you tease, fingers rubbing at his scalp.
Rafe grunts, flicking your thigh. “Watch it.”
You finish the rest of your chapter while he waits patiently—well, patient might be generous. His hands are everywhere, fingers sliding under the top of your crew-cut socks, the hem of your leggings, stroking your skin leisurely. He doesn’t fall asleep, and you think he’s even reading along for a second, which is confirmed when he perks up as he notices you’re on the last page.
“Done?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he grips the spine of your book, yanking it out of your hand. The bookmark you’d been using, a Polaroid of Rafe and your parents’ dog, Wilbur, falls out from where you keep it tucked between the front cover and the first page. Your cheeks heat up when he spots it, sticking it in the right page and shutting your book before tossing it aside on the couch, kissing your cheek. “Cute. Now get up.”
“What are we doing?”
“Do you think Heyward’s is doing deliveries today? We should make that soup you saw on Tik Tok.”
“I’d feel so bad making them come out here in this. We can make it to the store,” you say, rolling your eyes when he complains. “Pull it up and let’s go. I’ll go get our boots.”
“Can you grab my jacket, too?”
—
You made it to the store and back without getting too rained on—at least you did. In your haste you’d both forgotten an umbrella, and you were fine with just your hood, but Rafe insisted you huddle into his side while he held his unzipped jacket over your head, the two of you giggling as you splashed through the puddles in the parking lot and got inside as fast as you could.
Rafe put you on entertainment duty while he got to work in the kitchen, a tea towel resting over one of his shoulders while he chopped up veggies and read the recipe off of his phone.
“I vote Twilight,” you declare, already navigating to whichever streaming service it would be on.
“Nuh-uh. Harry Potter,” Rafe counters, not even looking your way. “But only while we cook. And then I wanna watch Casablanca when we’re done and we can pay attention.”
You smile to yourself while you search for the movie at the way he said ‘we.’ You were a disaster in the kitchen, but Rafe was surprisingly passable. He’d let you help him cook a few times, but after the third incident landed you both at urgent care, your palm permanently scarred and Rafe feeling so guilty he didn’t even want to speak on the ride home, you’d both decided you were better on the sidelines, keeping your drinks refilled and picking the right music or shows, taste testing or passing spices along.
“Fine, since it was supposed to be your golf day,” you concede.
“Now why would you bring that up?” he sighs.
“Aw, I’m sorry, babes,” you say, giving him your best pout.
“No, you’re not,” he laughs. “But I appreciate you trying to act like it.”
You start the movie and find him in the kitchen, arms wrapping around his waist from behind. “I like doing the things you like to do. Even if I don’t like them.”
“Hey, I know,” he says, hand reaching behind you both to scratch your back blindly. “I’m just teasing.”
“Good,” you say, squeezing him so tight he lets out an ‘oof’ before you him go again. “You can smoke me on the course next weekend.”
You get to work opening the bottle of wine you’d picked up at the store, pouring yourself a glass and getting Rafe a beer from the fridge. “Or we could do this again. I like this.”
You stop after you make sure it’s secure in his hand, reaching up on your tip toes for a kiss that lasts a few seconds. “I like this, too.”
a/n: howdy sorry this is longer than usual but oh well hope you all enjoy let me know what you think xoxo
Summary: Rafe finally gets everything he wants, and loses it within a minute.
Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, slight sexual innuendos
Word Count: 5.6k+
series masterlist
my writing
You let out a frustrated groan when you hear the doorbell ring, being able to feel Rafe's presence on the property but not being ready to go, yet. You start frantically shoving makeup and lipgloss into a clutch you dumped out, listening to the cheers from Rose and your mom as the Camerons file inside downstairs.
Rushing into the bathroom for one last look, you pop your lips, feeling your lipgloss stick. When the knock comes on the door, you're less than surprised.
"Come in," you call, rushing back into your room to continue getting your clutch together.
"Sweetheart?"
The door opens and parts only slightly, but you can see half of Rafe's face squished into the crack. You smile tightly and shake your head, silently running through the list of everything you want to remember. You adjust the skinny strap on your right shoulder, then speak.
"Come in, Rafe," you repeat.
He pushes the door further open as you turn and walk back over to your desk, pulling your emergency cash out of the drawer and tucking it inside the clutch. You hear Rafe close your bedroom door softly, so as not to draw attention to the fact that he's snuck upstairs.
"Erm."
You spin at his noise, finally letting your eyes settle on Rafe in his suit. His hair is all done up the way it usually is, and he puffs out his chest when you look over, scratching his forehead and exposing his Rolex while he does.
"You look-" he starts, still anxiously scratching his skin.
"You don't have to-"
"Absolutely beautiful."
Your lips curve up in a smile, suddenly forgetting all about your clutch and emergency money and if you already put gum in there or not. He smiles when you do, finally dropping his hand from his forehead. Subconsciously, you tug at the spot on your hips that the dress seems to not fit right, and it takes everything in Rafe to not swat your hands away.
"You don't look too bad yourself, Cameron," you tease him, walking up to him and settling your hands on his chest.
You run your fingers down his tie, observing how it perfectly matches your dress. Rafe had taken his time picking it out, wanting to make sure you would approve. It's your first public outing together, after all.
"Do you like the tie?" he asks, hint of nervousness in his voice.
"I love the tie," you smile, letting your hand settle into the center of his chest, "I would also love a proper greeting."
"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he playfully rolls his eyes, gently tugging on your hip to pull you into him.
You smile as he starts to lean down, inhaling his cologne and aftershave, noting silently how well-shaven he is. He smiles just before he kisses you, letting it linger for a while before he pulls away again. You grin when you see how your lipgloss had transferred onto his lips.
He lets you reach up and use the base of your thumb to wipe the lipgloss away, listening to him chuckle as you do.
"Sorry," you mumble to him.
"Don't be," he smiles, giving you another kiss so as to show you how much he doesn't care.
"Let me just finish getting my stuff together, then we can go down," you tell him, watching as he nods and squeezes your hand before he drops his hands.
"Take your time, I'm fine with the view up here," he smirks, collapsing onto your bed.
"Cheeky," you tease, picking your clutch up once more.
"What happened to those little lights you used to have hanging over there?" Rafe asks, pointing to the wall that used to hold your twinkle lights.
"I took them down."
"When?"
"Three years ago."
Rafe snickers at your answer, watching as you shake your head. You close your clutch and step over to him, watching as he immediately shifts so he's sitting instead of laying down, pulling you into his lap.
"I guess I haven't been up here in a while," he frowns.
"My fault," you whisper, running your fingers through his all done up hair.
"Yes, babe, it's absolutely your fault that you haven't been pulling me up to your bedroom every time I come over for dinner. Surprised your dad hasn't-"
"Y/N!"
You look over at Rafe, dropping your jaw. He laughs and shakes his head, tapping his hand on your thigh to silently tell you to stand up.
"It's like I know this family or something, huh?" he snickers.
"Then you know he'll kill you if he finds out you're in my room," you tease him.
"Worth it."
You smile, giving him one last peck before you tug on his hand to lead him toward the door and downstairs. Rafe squeezes on your hand when you two reach the bottom of the stairs, keeping his grip tight so you don't pull away from him just because you're around your families. He's ready to tell.
"Oh, my God!" Rose exclaims when she sees the two of you, "Y/N, you look gorgeous! You two look great together!"
"Thank you," Rafe beams, his thumb stroking up and down the skin on your hand.
"Oh, come outside with everyone, I have to get pictures!"
Rafe does his best not to roll his eyes at his step-mother, instead leading you out to the patio to appease her. Your parents gush over you and Rafe, your mom even giving you the raised eyebrow as if to ask why he's refusing to let go of your hand if he's just a wedding date. You smile and shake your head, telling her you'll talk later. Scott emerges from the house, tie hanging around his neck.
"Um, Y/N," he says quietly, grabbing onto your elbow as he approaches you and Rafe, "I need you to help me with my tie."
"Sure," you reply to your brother, feeling Rafe reluctantly release you so you can help him.
Rose takes the opportunity to pull Rafe into a picture with Wheezie. Sarah and John B are nowhere to be found, and despite Rafe being your date, you just can't help the feeling in your gut at the thought of seeing him.
"I'll kill him, you know," Scott says quickly, watching as you focus too hard on his tie.
"What?"
"I'll kill Rafe if he pulls anything tonight."
You chuckle, patting your brother on his chest before you continue with your tie, "Scott, trust me. Rafe won't be the one to ruin tonight."
"You're worried about John B, then?"
You groan when you make the wrong move, having to undo almost all the work you've done to try again. Although Scott's conversation is distracting you, he doesn't seem to mind that you aren't moving fast.
"Yes," you admit quietly, glancing back to make sure Rafe is away, "Things are just a little complicated right now."
Scott laughs, and you watch as his eyes flicker from where Rafe is staring down to you, "It doesn't look complicated for Rafe. He's glanced over here about twenty times in the last ten seconds."
You bite your lip to hide a smile, sighing in relief when you pull the knot up Scott's tie and finally settle it on his collar. He even lets you adjust the collar, which he never does.
"Just leave John B to me," Scott nods his head down to you, "I think your boyfriend wants you over there. Thanks, for the tie."
You turn and see Rafe staring at you, and when you meet his eyes, he beckons you over. You turn back to Scott, squeezing his forearm as a thanks for the talk, and then make your way to Rafe. He holds out his hand when you get close enough, which you gladly accept.
"You okay?" he whispers in your ear, ignoring commands from Rose about posing for a photo.
"Fine," you nod, giving him a smile.
"Scott was giving me the death stare over there."
"He's fine, trust me. Everything's perfect."
Rafe takes your word for it, pressing a small, tender kiss into your forehead. You hear Rose's camera snap right then, but you don't think much of it until she looks at it and explodes with excitement.
"That is too precious! You two are going to have to do a Christmas card or something," she grins.
Rafe just rolls his eyes, telling Rose to take some more so everyone could leave. Rafe keeps his hand just above your backside the entire time, but is so innocent about it that you can't tell if he means what he's doing or not. You're sure he does.
Just as Rose snaps one last picture of you and Rafe, you hear Ward yell to Rose that John B and Sarah have arrived. You tense, naturally, which makes Rafe look down at you. You glance at Scott, giving him a small nod of appreciation for keeping an eye on you.
You don't look to Rafe, mostly because you don't have time. John B and Sarah step out onto the back patio and earn the attention of everyone, gushing about how good they look together. You watch John B's movements, the way he smiles to Ward but drops it too soon; the way he shoves his hands into his pants pockets and doesn't shake your father's hand. Or Scott's.
He's uncomfortable and you know it, but you're glad. After how uncomfortable you've been, he deserves a little of it, too. When he looks over and sees you, you see him swallow visibly as he takes you in. Rafe wants to mark his territory, every caveman instinct rising to the surface as he watches you two stare at each other. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets you have your moment.
You break the glance after a moment, opting to stare at the grass instead of your ex-boyfriend. You can feel Rafe's gaze burning into the side of your head, you just really don't know what to say. You feel guilty for even thinking twice about John B when you feel so strongly about Rafe. It shouldn't even phase you.
"Hey," he whispers after a second, "Y/N, hey."
You finally drag your head to look up at him, sure he's probably going to go off on some rant about how John B never deserved you and you shouldn't feel anything anymore. But you do feel different. You don't want to be with John B in any sense of the word.
You just want Rafe.
"It's okay to be upset," he tells you, "It's okay. If you want to spend the entire night talking about what happened with you two, I'll listen. Just don't go radio silent on me, yeah?"
You give him a small smile, moving from beside him to in front of him. You no longer care of your parents or Scott or John B or anyone sees. Your heart swells at his words, that he would be so willing to listen to you whine about John B all night just to spend time with you.
You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling him wrap his around your waist and pull you closer. He meant what he said, but now he's glad he said it.
"I don't want to talk about him," you mumble, "I want to talk about you. And us. I want you to tell me more stories from when I was oblivious-"
"You were not oblivious, sweetheart," he smiles, keeping his composure although his heart is practically beating out of his chest.
"Hm, are you crossing any fingers back there, Cameron?"
He laughs, a real, heavy laugh. It earns the attention of a few people on the porch, but you don't care.
"No. I'm never lying with you."
You smile, using one hand to stroke through the hair on the back of his head and pulling him down a bit. You feel him hesitate, worried that Scott or your father will chase him down the driveway with a baseball bat if he kisses you right now.
"Don't worry about them," you whisper, and he wonders if you can read his mind, "Scott's fine and my dad's already drunk."
Rafe laughs once again, then leans all the way down and presses his lips to yours. He keeps it long enough to satisfy you, but short enough that he's not full on making out with you in front of both of your families. When Rafe looks up and spots Rose holding her camera, she just winks at him. His cheeks flush.
"I needed that," he whispers to you, pulling just far enough away that he can see you.
"Me, too."
He takes a deep breath and untangles from you, wrapping his fingers through yours again. You both step over to the group, who is packing up to leave. You watch as Rose steps over to Rafe, showing him something on her camera. Rafe's jaw drops halfway, and you watch as his cheeks grow pink again. She pats him on the arm and smiles, no real words communicated between the two. You start to ask him, but your mom shuffling everyone into the house distracts you.
"Is it okay if I drive us?" Rafe asks, setting his free hand on your hip as you both enter the house.
"I would love that," you nod, watching him smile.
Rafe steps away from you to let his parents know you two are leaving. You unlock your phone and try to keep yourself busy, only to have your elbow tugged on by your little brother again.
"Please let me ride with you," Scott says quietly, "Mom's trying to get me to slow dance with Wheezie, and it's either her or sit in a car with Sarah and John B. Please?"
You laugh lightly, glancing over at Rafe and seeing he's already watching you. He nods, as if to answer the question you're asking him in your head.
"That's fine," you tell him.
"Thank God."
Rafe steps back over to you after a moment, setting his hand on your back to guide you out. He swallows at the way his fingertips keep grazing bare skin on your back, knowing that's not going to be good for him later on, when he has a few drinks and so do you. He's already having enough trouble.
You're pleased when Rafe and Scott actually speak to one another in the car. They talk like old friends ('hey, Cam, remember the time you pushed me out of your tree house?', 'yeah, your sister was more upset about sleeping in the waiting room than you having a broken wrist'.). Ever since they were kids, Scott had called Rafe 'Cam'. It makes you happy to see them getting along so well again. Despite Scott being present, Rafe keeps his right hand in yours the entire ride.
By the time the three of you arrive at the church, you're worried that your date will be too busy hanging out with Scott to even notice you. They're laughing so hard that it takes Rafe three tries to back his truck into his parking spot, each time Scott teasing him more and more.
"Can you two chill out, please?" you groan, watching them pretend to wrestle in the parking lot.
Scott had initiated it, saying he could still kick Rafe's ass. Rafe countered by saying such a thing had never happened. And now, you're standing with your hands on your hips, wanting to go inside, but waiting on your boy and your brother.
Rafe laughs and holds his hands up, telling Scott he's done at your request. He steps over to you and you groan, finding his hair to not be perfectly set anymore. You frown as he tries to fix his jacket.
"What's that face for, sweetheart?" he asks when he looks up at you.
"Nothing."
"Come on, now, none of that pouty shit. Look at me," he demands, but his voice is so soft you know he'd crumble in a minute.
"I need to fix your hair," you say, watching him grin. It makes you smile, too, even though you wanted to tease him and stay upset for a bit longer.
"You would've had to, anyway."
"No, I wouldn't have to if my brother and my boyfr-"
Your hand clamps over your own mouth, as if you're trying to shove the word back in. You watch Rafe's face fall as he stares at you, all playfulness gone from his eyes. Scott scoffs, then holds his hands up.
"I'm gonna - yeah. You two have fun."
Your brother walks off, but you barely notice. You finally let your hand fall from your mouth and your eyes shift to the ground, wondering how the hell you're going to take that back. You can feel him still staring at you, so you swallow nervously and looks back to him again.
"Rafe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"I'm gonna need you to finish that sentence."
You furrow your eyebrows, and he watches as the skin above your nose creases. He hasn't moved a muscle since you almost said the word.
"Rafe," you whisper, begging him to give you a better reaction than that. You have no idea what's going on in his head.
"No, I just want to hear you say it. Finish your sentence."
You swallow, watching his eyes move frantically around your face and eventually settle on your lips. You're not sure why the hell he wants you to say it, but you appease him. Your hands start to shake, so you clasp them together before you speak.
"I-" you let out a deep breath, watching as Rafe clenches his jaw, "I wouldn't have to if my brother and my boyfriend would stop wrestling in the parking lot."
The way Rafe closes his eyes and sighs after you breathe the word reminds you of the way a smoker who finally gets their fill of nicotine. You can see his body relax from its tense state, and when he opens his eyes again, you swear he looks intoxicated. He steps forward and grabs ahold of you before you can even realize it, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you yet.
"I was going to ask you," he whispers, his voice almost raspy, "For the record. Had it planned and everything."
"Oh, yeah?" you reply, hands creeping their way up his back, "What happened?"
"You."
You grin, bringing one hand up to meet his still-messy hair. He leans down and kisses you, gentle at first and then deepening it, losing control of himself. The dress, the pictures, the word. Everything has been building up, and he's not sure he'll be able to stop himself. You pull away after a minute, stopping him when he starts to get a little too handsy in the parking lot of a church.
"We need to go inside," you suck in a deep breath, observing the wild look in his eye as he wants to continue more than anything in the world.
"Can we finish this conversation, first? I didn't mean to get carried away," he sighs.
You bite your lip and nod, subconsciously beginning to fix his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment when your nails brush into his scalp, swallowing under your movements before he opens his eyes again.
"I still want to ask you all properly," he insists, "But, I can't wait. Please be my girlfriend."
You smile wide, which makes him smile, too. You can tell he's nervous, even though he's crazy if he doesn't know the answer. You nod your head, bringing your lips to his to give him one last, gentle kiss.
"Sure I will," you breathe against his lips, "Cam."
He snickers, giving you one last peck, "You can't start calling me that."
"Fine."
He laughs, letting you pull back from him and work more on his hair. He stares at you as you concentrate, unable to believe that he's finally gotten you. Now comes the hard part, he thinks. Not fucking it up.
Once you finish, you give him a smile, "You look very handsome."
"You look like you just got macked on in the parking lot."
You laugh, but don't mind. He takes your hand and leads you inside, finding your families before you do because of his height. Scott smirks when he sees the two of you walk up, noting your lack of lipgloss and the fact that Rafe's hair looks like it had been combed through with your fingers instead of a brush.
Scott mutters something to Rafe, which makes his cheeks flush. You smile as he pulls you down next to him, wrapping one arm loosely around the back of the pew behind you.
"So," he whispers in your ear, "Am I allowed to tell Brady that I won?"
You snap your head over and furrow your eyebrows at him, "He's about to get married, Rafe. I think he will think he won."
Rafe shakes his head quickly, "He didn't."
You squirm slightly in your seat, trying to get the butterflies in your stomach to chill out. The entire ceremony, you wonder. You wonder how you never noticed, and you wonder where you and Rafe would be right now if you had.
By the time it ends, everyone seems to be ready to drink and have fun. Scott rides with you and Rafe to the reception, teasing you both relentlessly about how you had slipped up and then you both didn't come inside for several minutes. Rafe doesn't seem to care, though. He seems way too happy with how things had worked out.
The reception hall is beautiful. Breathtaking from the moment you enter. You take it all in; the lights, the signage, the food, the tables, everything. When you glance back at Rafe, who's back is pressed against your front with his chin resting on top of your head, he's just staring right back down at you.
"Do you wanna get a drink?" you ask him.
"Yes," he nods, "Go check out the deck, I'll get drinks."
He pecks you on the forehead, untangling his hand from yours and stepping toward the bar. You do as he instructs, stepping outside. Twinkle lights cover most of the deck, and with the sunset, it's one of the most beautiful scenes. Perfect for a wedding night.
You look around and find Sarah and John B dancing in the middle of the crowd outside, a wide smile spread across your ex-boyfriend's face. There was a time where that look would've given you every type of butterfly out there. Now, you want nothing but the sweet boy inside, ordering your favorite drink order, which he memorized last year at Midsommers.
"There she is!"
You turn around and spy your best friend, standing about five feet away and looking handsome as hell in his gray suit. Kelce stands beside him, salmon colored blazer wrapped around his body and his body already swaying with the alcohol he's consumed.
"Hey," you cheer, giving Topper a hug, then Kelce.
"You look hot," Kelce blurts.
"Dude," Topper shoves Kelce's shoulder, making him lose his balance and almost fall. Luckily, he catches himself just in time.
"Thanks, Kelce," you laugh.
"Cameron ditch you already?" Topper teases.
"No, he's-" you turn, finding Rafe walking outside just then. You watch as he does a two second scan, finding you almost immediately despite the crowd.
"Yo, bro," Topper greets Rafe once he reaches you guys.
Rafe hands you your drink, your favorite drink, tucking his hand around you and letting it linger on your waist as he pulls you into his side.
"What's up, Top?" Rafe asks, sipping his drink and then adding, "Kelce is drunk already?"
"No," Kelce protests with a glare.
"Are we getting shit-faced tonight?" Topper looks around, asking all of you.
"Hell yes!" Kelce explodes.
"I'm not," Rafe speaks up, "I have to get this one home."
He tightens his grip around you as if it's a good reference of who he's talking about. He ignores Kelce's groan and Topper pretending to throw up, just smiling away down at you under his arm. This has been his dream forever. He's not going to ruin it.
Not if he can help it.
"Y/N? Shit-faced?" Topper questions, raising his eyebrow at you.
"I don't think so, Top," you reply, watching him groan.
"You two are so lame. When you start dating, you better not go all fetal on me, Cameron."
"We are," Rafe informs him, trying to suppress the grin threatening to form on his face, "Dating, I mean."
"What?" Topper gasps.
"Aw, damn it!" Kelce groans, "That means I lost my shot with Y/N?"
You laugh when Rafe pulls his hand from around you momentarily to shove Kelce the same way Topper had earlier. When he returns his arm around you, his grip is tighter.
"You never had a shot with Y/N," Rafe snaps at him.
"Hey, man, I told you the same thing when you were fifteen. Don't underestimate me."
"Oh, my God," Rafe mumbles, low enough that the other two can't hear, "I might have to get shit-faced if he keeps putting that image in my head."
"You have nothing to worry about, Rafe," you whisper in response.
He bites the inside of his bottom lip to hide his smile, "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple, letting it linger before he pulls himself away. Everything feels right to him. For the first time in a long time.
A few hours and many drinks later, Topper and Kelce are gone. You'd been laughing at their antics for so long that your chest was starting to hurt. You'd had more than a couple drinks, but didn't feel as bad, or as good, as the boys. Rafe only had two, citing being the driver as his excuse.
The four of you found yourselves standing about ten feet from the outside bar, which you had done on purpose when Topper and Kelce asked to move so they could get drinks faster. You start to feel Rafe's impatience; his way of telling you he's ready to go is to stand behind you with his hands on your hips, slightly and nonchalantly moving your body against his. He hasn't given you a real kiss in hours and he's starting to feel it.
"Do you think we should take them home?" you turn your body around, making Rafe groan. The last thing he wants to do is stare at the lips he can't kiss for hours right now.
"No," he grunts, "That will ruin every plan I have for when we get back to the truck."
You feel your stomach twist in a good way, smiling at him as you try to read his thoughts. You're sure you already know what they are.
"I'm serious, they're really drunk."
"I will call them a car, then. Those two idiots are not ruining my night."
You shake your head at him, wrapping your hand around his tie and pulling him down for a kiss. He groans before he lets you kiss him, knowing it's going to hurt to stop. John B and Sarah walk by right then to go to the bar, but you don't notice. The mixture of the alcohol and Rafe's kisses have you feeling more lightheaded than ever.
"I can't believe you're my boyfriend now, Rafe Cameron," you tease him, "You taste like a mai tai."
"And that's a wrap on the drinks for you," he mutters, moving your glass to the other side of the table behind you.
"I'm not drunk."
"I didn't say you are," he counters.
"Just because I had drinks doesn't make me drunk," you continue, "If anything, you make me feel drunk."
"I make you feel drunk?" he laughs, "Okay, I'm saying it, now. You're drunk."
"I mean it, Rafe," you mumble, smoothing out his tie, "Can I have another kiss?"
"Please never stop asking me that question," he says quietly, leaning down and kissing you against your smile.
"I'm not drunk," you say, more authoritative this time, after he pulls away, "Just happy."
He grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "Me, too, baby."
Your eyes flutter closed, soaking in the perfection of this moment. Rafe sighs contently, squeezing hold of your hand. You can hear Kelce and Topper arguing over their fantasy football drafts about two feet away, but you don't mind.
You hear something crash at the bar, making you jump. When you turn to see what it was, you find Scott pressed up against the bar, looking like he'd just been shoved. John B stands about three feet away, chest heaving. Your entire body tenses, but before you can even move, Rafe's already on his way over there.
"Top, stay with her," Rafe commands, pointing to you before he takes off running to the bar.
Topper stands, setting a hand on your arm when you try to follow your boyfriend.
"Y/N-"
"Do not try to play knight in shining armor right now, Top. Let go of me."
He does as you say, taking note of the serious look in your eye. He follows you over to the bar silently, stumbling only once. Rafe's now standing beside Scott, trying his best to pull your furious brother away from the scene.
"Scott," you speak up, stepping over to your boyfriend and your brother, "What the hell is going on?"
"Topper," Rafe demands over you, "I told you to fucking stay with her!"
You turn to Rafe, "Why are you acting like that?"
"I told you he's a fucking tool, Y/N."
John B's voice rings through your ears. You swallow and glance at your brother, trusting that he has every reason to be as angry as he is. You spin around on your heel, glaring at your ex-boyfriend.
"What did you say to Scott?" you ask him, keeping your voice calm.
"The truth," John B shrugs.
You glance at Sarah, who seems to be enjoying this entire thing. A crowd has seemed to gather, and you're almost amazed your parents haven't come outside.
"Which is?" you press.
"John B," Rafe speaks up, his voice pleading, "Don't."
You turn, just for a second, and observe the expression on Rafe's face. It's desperate, scared. You turn back to John B, sure you'll force the answer out of him.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," Scott speaks behind you, "Let's just go."
"No," you say, not bothering to turn around, "I want to know what the hell everyone's so riled up about. What did you tell him, John B?"
When John B hesitates, Sarah steps over and wraps both of her arms around one of his. She has a cold look in her eyes as she stares at you, smirk very present on her lips.
"He told Scott that Rafe got fired because he was doing drugs, and the only reason Rafe was doing drugs was because of you."
Your lips part as you open your mouth to take a deep breath, trying your hardest to process what Sarah had just said. You'd grown up with Rafe, you'd gotten the 'drugs are bad' discussion with Rafe sitting beside you, flicking your arm to make you mad. He wouldn't do drugs. And even if he did, what the hell did that have to do with you?
"You're such a bitch, Sarah," Rafe says behind you, his voice full of defeat.
"Maybe," she shrugs, "But at least I didn't push a guy into snorting lines off of daddy's financial paperwork."
You swallow, eyes moving to the ground. The alcohol, the overwhelming emotions you've been through today, all of it, feels like too much all of the sudden. Scott comes up behind you and gently grabs your arm, taking in your expression.
"I'm gonna take my sister home," Scott announces, more so to Rafe than anyone else.
Sarah drags John B away, knowing their work is done. You don't pull your eyes up to watch them go, or to look at your boyfriend. You just start walking, knowing Scott will follow.
"Y/N, hey, wait, let me explain-" Rafe tries, but Topper sets his hand on Rafe's chest to stop him.
"Not like this, Rafe, come on," Topper starts. Rafe shoves Topper forcefully, making him almost lose his balance.
"Get the fuck off me," Rafe snaps at him.
"Stop," you tell him, your voice emotionless. Scott stops walking when you do, standing beside you as if he's your bodyguard, "Please, Rafe. Just stop."
He takes one step toward you, stopping when Scott levels him with a glare.
"Sweetheart, please. Let's go somewhere and talk, and if you want me to take you home I will. I don't want to end the night like this. Please."
You swallow and sigh, staring at the pleading boy. After everything the two of you have been through, you know you owe him this. You also really, really don't want Sarah Cameron to win. Rafe deserves better than that.
"All right," you agree weakly.
Rafe sighs in relief, taking another step but dropping his arms when you don't reach for him.
"Are you sure?" Scott asks you.
You nod, "Yes. Don't tell Mom and Dad about this."
He nods in agreement, and does not object when you reach up and tighten his tie around his neck. He looks better, like nothing ever happened. You turn to Rafe, heart sinking at his lonely expression. You reach for his hand, more so as a way to comfort him. You're still hesitant about Sarah's words.
He takes your hand immediately, wanting nothing more than to wrap himself around you. He leads you off the deck and through the reception hall, out to the parking lot. He slows once he sees the truck, as he has to try and figure out what the hell he's going to say.
Hi, do you think you could write what it's like dating Rafe hc?🥺🥺
what it is like dating Rafe Cameron...
remember how rafe told topper that topper is officially his sister's bitch? yea. that's him now with you.
that man is WHIPPED. *inserts whipping sound*
him? simping? just for you bby.
somehow you managed to make rafe cameron into the kind of guy to go grocery shopping with you and he pushes the cart as you pick items off the shelf. but he is super tall so he gets the items on the top shelf.
its also a game of slapping each other's butts in public and not getting caught. but with a lot of practice, you two do a lot in public without getting caught.
he teaches you how to play golf. plus it gives you a reason to have him pressed against your back in the middle of public.
he knows exactly what you are doing.
but also you spend nights with him where you just lay in silence and you comfort him when he wants to relapse or if Ward's being a dick to him.
but speaking of Ward, all the Cameron's realize how much Rafe had changed because of you.
He's a lot more decent to be around.
Sarah and Wheezie adore you. You come over to the Cameron's house to jut hang out with the girls. Rafe walks out and sees you on the couch and he is like ???? I didn't know you were here?????
his love language has to be touch or giving gifts. let's talk about that a bit more.
rafe loves to touch you and i mean...constantly.
whether it be romantic or sexual. he is always on you. he loves playing with your hair, pulling your hair. he loves touching you in public or in private.
he loves to hold you close at parties.
everyone knows you are dating him. if anyone tries to make a move on you....best be on your way.
he brands your neck in hickeys.
your ass is also bruised most of the time.
but if you two are relaxing on the boat, your legs would be intertwined with each other if y'all lay down and basking in the sun.
he loves to help apply sunblock onto your back.
.....but also you two both love skinny dipping together. hey--i don't make the rules here.
sometimes, you get to wear his snapback and boy...that does it for him.
honestly...i feel like he would be the kind of guy to enjoy the beer poster trend. did you do it? of course. does he have it hanging up in his room? you bet.
rafe loves to give you gifts with his money. he gives you new clothes, bras, underwear, lingerie, swim suits, hair products, jewelry, gives you money to get your nails done...like he is spoiling you to no end. he always pays for any meals and drinks.
but also he likes bringing you your favorite meals for lunch if you were at work. he would leave little notes around your room with funny jokes or love letters.
i totally see him wanting to drive you to work though. like something easy but helpful to you to show he cares about you.
there are many pictures of you two together, whether that be on the boat, clubbing, country club, holidays, dates, sleepovers, risque polaroids, adventures, at the light house, beach clean ups, you on his motorcycle....like so many.
everyone is convinced that he would marry you in an instant.
sadly, every couple fights and you two would have some heated arguments. you both get the space needed, but both of you guys end up apologizing and just making up.
you both would sneak up to the top of the roof and watch the night sky.
when you both go to parties, it's just you and him. nothing else matters. you both would dance up against each other, you both have been drinking. it's fun. you wouldn't want to do this with anyone else and neither would him.
you convince rafe that he doesn't need to slick his hair back. he isnt sure if he believes you. but after a few days, he agrees.
also? rafe seeing you in his big shirts? ooooooofffffff
i also just had this thought that Rafe and his family would take you on ski trips. I can imagine him snowboarding and...it's just a cute winter holiday. i imagine hot chocolate, bundling close together near a fire, holding hands to keep warm, laughing at each other when they slip on their asses....look--it's a cute idea and concept. i would love to be in a fancy cabin with rafe cameron.
Listen….. idk what it is about the absolute yearning that comes from stories where both people are into each other but they are not aware of the other’s feelings but they still look at the relationship they have atm and go “being this close is enough. I’m glad with just this” but i go feral each time
amandla
yousharknotpass
titsay
vaporwave
theartofmadeline
