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âĄ Ë dolly's notie note ďšďšďš I CHANGE THIS A BIT AND RAFEâS THE DRUNK ONE BC I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE COOLER IF HE MESS UP WITH HER HEAD, HOPE YOU LIKE IT<3
Her phone buzzed at 1 AM. Topperâs name flashed on the screen.
âHey, you gotta come get Rafe.â he slurred over the line, the thumping bass of the Kook party at his beach house nearly drowning him out. âHeâs trashed, threw bourbon all over some Pogue, and now heâs picking fights. I canât deal with him.â
Her heart lurched, Rafe, always spiralling, always hers to save. She threw a flimsy cardigan over her skimpy pyjama tank and tiny shorts, her nerves sparking as she sped to Topperâs.
She found Rafe sprawled on the sand outside, his white button-up soaked through with bourbon, clinging obscenely to his carved pecs and abs. Eyes wild and red-rimmed, a shattered bottle at his feet.
âMy fuckinâ saviour!â he slurred, lurching toward her, his broad frame nearly toppling them both. His breath was pure liquor, his grin sloppy but dangerously charming. âKnew youâd come for me, angel.â Her cheeks burned as she looped his arm over her shoulders, his heat searing through her thin clothes.
âRafe, youâre a disaster,â she whispered, dragging him through the jeering crowd to her car. He collapsed into the seat, his hand grazing her bare thigh, lingering too long as he mumbled about âfuckinâ Poguesâ and âmaking âem pay.â
At Tanneyhill, she wrestled him inside, his boots scuffing the pristine floors. His shirt was trashed, his skin glistening, reeking of chaos.
âShower, Rafe, now,â she ordered, her soft voice trembling but firm.
He leaned against the bathroom doorframe, smirking, his hooded eyes raking over her. âCanât even stand. You gonna get me naked, huh?â
Her face flamed, but he was a mess, and she couldnât abandon him. Hauling him into the massive shower, she cranked the hot water, steam curling as she attacked his shirt buttons. Rafeâs hands fumbled uselessly, and she yanked the fabric off, exposing his chiselled torso, water already beading on his tanned skin. Her breath hitched, but when he nearly collapsed, trying to shove down his jeans, she squealed,
âOkay, Iâm doing it!â
The water drenched them, her tank top turning transparent, hugging her curves, her shorts plastered to her thighs. She grabbed a sponge, scrubbing the sticky liquor from his broad shoulders, her hands shaking as they slid over his slick, muscled chest. Rafeâs head lolled back, water streaming down his sharp jaw, and he groaned, âFuck, youâre too goddamn perfect.â
Then she froze, his boxers, soaked and clinging, outlined his thick cock, rock-hard and throbbing, the tip straining past the waistband. Her wide doe eyes flicked up, meeting his, and Rafeâs drunken smirk was pure sin.
âSâjust a hard-on. Hurts so fuckinâ bad,â he rasped, his voice thick with lust. âHelp me, angel. Jack me off, yeah? Just⌠take care of your boy.â
His words were a slurred, desperate command, and she, naive and drowning in the steamâs haze, nodded, her pulse hammering.
âOkay,â she whispered, her voice barely audible over the water. âJust helping you.â
Her trembling hand slipped inside his boxers, fingers curling around his pulsing shaft, hot, heavy, and slick with water. Rafe groaned, low and guttural, his hips jerking as he braced both hands against the shower wall, caging her in.
âFuck, yes,â he growled, his voice raw. Her small hand stroked him slowly, deliberately, gliding from base to tip, her thumb brushing the swollen head, smearing precum.
Each slide drew a ragged moan from him, his abs flexing, water dripping from his clenched jaw. Her soaked tank top clung to her breasts, nipples hard against the fabric, and she felt a shameful slickness pooling between her thighs, her body betraying her as she pumped him.
âTighter,â he grunted, his hand sliding to her neck, not choking, just holding, his thumb stroking her pulse. She obeyed, gripping harder, stroking faster, her wrist twisting as his hips bucked, fucking into her fist. âGoddamn, youâre killing me,â he panted, his voice cracking with need.
Her own breath came in shallow gasps, the heat of his cock, the way it throbbed in her hand, igniting something primal in her. She shouldnât want this, shouldnât feel her clit pulsing, but his groans, the way his body shuddered, were intoxicating. When he came, it was explosive, his cock pulsed hard, thick ropes of cum spilling over her hand, splattering her wrist before the water washed it away. Rafeâs head fell forward, a broken âFuck,â spilling from his lips as he sagged against the tiles, spent and panting. âBest fuckinâ friend.â
CRIMINAL!RAFE X SPOILEDGF!READER who met each other online when spoiledgf!reader found him on a pen pal website. she saw his pictures and fell in love almost instantly. grateful that he was only in jail for possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute, and not something else that was considered heinous, she decided to send him a message, attaching some of her favorite pictures in hopes that heâll answer her. criminal!rafe logged into the computer the following morning, expecting nothing interesting as usual, but instead he was met with the sight of your beautiful face. he was quick to send you multiple replies, his knee bouncing up and down as he waited in anticipation for you to get back to him. all it took was a few exchanges of texts before you two found yourselves texting everday, plans of you two talking to each other and hearing each otherâs voices soon coming to fruition.
CRIMINAL!RAFE X SPOILEDGF!READER who started dating within a month of them flirting with each other over the phone. rafe learned that his new pretty girlfriend was a real life material girl and had no problem spoiling her rotten from beyond the bars of his cell. âlook, youâre gonna drive down to the cut, alright? go to the address i sent you in last weekâs letter and talk to the guy named barry. i already told him about you so heâll know who you are once you mention me. heâs holding onto all of my cash until i get out, so whenever you want money just go and bother him and heâll give it to you. got it?â you nodded and squealed excitedly even though he couldnât see you. following his instructions, you met barry later on that day, his partner looking both impressed and displeased at the same time. âyouâre pretty and all, but iâll be damned if youâre just using my boy for his bread.â he grunted, handing over a stack. âoh, please, does it look like i need it?â you laughed, motioning towards your expensive outfit.
CRIMINAL!RAFE X SPOILEDGF!READER who see each other for the first time when they decide to video call one evening, both of them talking away until the guard told rafe his time with you was over for the day. âgoodnight, gorgeous, iâll call you tomorrow, yeah?â you blew him a kiss, your cheeks heating once you saw him wink before hanging up, a plethora of butterflies fluttering in your chest as you went to sleep thinking about him. rafe doesnât know how he got so lucky that you found him first, this blossoming romance of yours giving him a new profound sense of hope now that he knows he has someone other than barry who cares for him outside of jail. to know that youâre just as excited and eager to be with him just as much as he is was a refreshing feeling. criminal!rafe continued to send you heartfelt letters along with homemade cards and little drawings that heâd scribble down whenever he was thinking about you (which was all the time).
CRIMINAL!RAFE X SPOILEDGF!READER who canât wait for his release date, both of them wishing they could just hug and kiss and touch each other already. âyou gonna wear something special for me when i get out of here?â rafe licked his lips while spoiledgf!reader smiled sheepishly at him. âno..â you trailed off quietly. âwhat do you mean ânoâ? iâm gonna eat you right up as soon as i get my hands on you.â rafe scoffed, a smug grin taking over his features as you leaned in closer to the glass separating you two. â..because iâm not going to be wearing anything when you come home.â rafeâs jaw ticked at your words, lewd images of you running through his head as he thought about you underneath him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist while he thrusted into you, your pretty manicured nails digging into his flesh as he did so. âoh, yeah?â he spoke quietly, looking around to make sure no one else could hear him, âyou gonna let me fuck you fresh out?â
CRIMINAL!RAFE X SPOILEDGF!READER who are kissing and grabbing at each other once he walks out of the jail gates, all thanks to barry for bringing you to pick rafe up after he got a phone call stating that your boyfriend had been let out early. you could barely control your excitement on the way over there, the annoyed brunette in the driverâs seat flashing you a glare. âcan you chill out, bruh? weâre picking him up from a dingy jail cell, not a beauty pageant.â you rolled your eyes at barryâs words, still fixing your lipgloss in your pink compact mirror. âlook, âbear, weâre going to be spending a lot of time together now, so do me a favor and stop calling me âbruhâ okay!?â you chirped, glancing over at him only to see the same annoyed expression on his face. âyeah, yeah, whatever you say.â he grumbled. the first thing you and rafe did (besides getting handsy and making out in the backseat) was pick up his cash from barryâs trailer, his arms glued to your waist as he counted every single bill. âwhat do you say we check in somewhere after this? âeat a good meal and iâll have you for my dessert when we get back to our room?â
USNA Teacher: *Sees Bradley's emergency list - after Bradley twisted his ankle*
COMPACFLT - Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Admiral Rom "Slider" Kerner
Admiral Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe
Captain Rick "Hollywood"-
...
jj fuckinâ his girl bestfriend all nice and slow, taking in her body just in complete shock that this is reality and not some crazy wet dream. tanned arms supporting his body weight beside her head where her hair is splayed around her head like a halo making her look like some kind of goddess, full lips parted and eyes closed, little âuh, uh, uhâsâ leaving her pretty mouth at every thrust where jjâs fat cock nudges that spot inside her squelchy pussy that makes her dig her nails more aggressively into his muscly back.
her eyes opening for a second when his thrusts become more frantic and miscalculated, her orgasm building white hot in her lower stomach making her moan out, their eyes locking as he continues thrusting, his orgasm building as fast as hers seemed to be.
on a whim, she reaches up to take his shark tooth necklace between her teeth, the action innocent but making jj even more desperate for his release, her innocent eyes looking up at him as he thrusts harder, an even deeper desire consuming him as she moans out.
wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a heated kiss, tongues swirling deliciously against each other as he swallows all of her pretty little noises, pulling away to watch her face as she claws harder at his back, his arms aching but he wasnât about to miss this moment, eyes flicking to her tits as her noises got louder. ââm fuckinâ coming jj!â
âcmon come for me pretty.â he says, keeping his pace and not looking away from her face, a loud moan spilling from her wet lips as she comes undone, face contorted beautifully as her eyelids slip closed again, feeling the wetness of her orgasm coating his cock he lets go too with a loud groan, as she watches his adams apple bob as he cranes his neck back, dropping his arms which supported his weight and whispering praises inaudibly into her neck.
their sweat-slick bodies pressed impossibly close but still needed to be closer, with his slowly softening dick still inside her sopping pussy she takes a hand through the tangles strands of blonde hair and a kiss to his sweaty forehead, making him smile and press a lazy kiss to her collarbone. âcanât believe we didnât do that sooner, youâre fuckinâ perfect.â he mumbles, making her blush crimson as he nuzzles his face into her neck and breathes out all relaxed.
i'm sorry...but i see it guys...i just see it...TELL ME
I CAN BE INSANE FOR THAT, SOMEBODY MATCH MY FRRAK RN PLEASE (OR CALL THE COPS BC SHOULD BE ILLEGAL THE WAY I LOVE CRAZY MAD MEN WITH DEEP DADDY ISSUES, FACE COVERED IN BLOOD AND BRUISES, MENTALLY INSANES. )
i love horror. i love when hot guys put the most freakiest duo together. let us think that rafe and jj be killers buddies, pretend to hate each others but love to kill people together.
dad pope? maybe? pretty please? with a cherry on top?
since you asked so nicely ! đ¤
tell me why pope would be the most supportive dad ever. there is no way he wouldn't be trying to do everything for his kid, and the minute you became pregnant, he was reading all of the pregnancy books, and then even getting the baby to listen to classical music because maybe that would make them smarter. you would always giggle when he got the headset out, and put it on your baby bump. it was always some sort of niche genre, sometimes rocking it out to indie, or soft lulluby, but always something that made you remember why you loved him so much.
but you had to admit, sometimes you got a little clingly. sometimes he was doing his little work, and all you wanted from him was a kiss. sometimes thats all you wanted.
pope would be so focused on putting on the small pink head set, making sure it didn't hurt you, eyes zoned in, tongue stuck out as he adjusted it gently, "that alright?"
you would nodd, before trying to kiss him. every time he did something like this for you, you had the biggest urge to just grab him and kiss him hard. unfortunaly for you, pope had more to say.
"now, listen here. so if the baby listens to this music, they'll know itâ"
"damn it!"
pope raised his eyebrows, hands pulled out to touch you before suddenly looking back at you with alarm, "hey! you good?"
suddenly you felt guilty for giving him a scare, and gently pulled away the headset off your stomache. instead you looked ad him more gently. looked at the way his eyelashes fluttered, and how his adam apple bobbed as if he was really scared. all of a sudden you were frowning, looking down at the baby bump.
"hey..hey?" pope whispered, gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "something wrong?
it was here you would pout, "enough of this talking, of this dad business. kiss me, damn it."
then pope grinned, "hey mama, if you wanted it so bad, you could have asked nicely."
"this is me asking nicely." then you grabbed him by his very nice shirt, and his very nice hair and, you know for all of you that you gave him a very nice kiss.
could you do a rafe x reader where the reader has a panic attack in front of sarah for the first and she knows to get the reader to rafe and he immediately calms her down?
rafe cameron x reader | hurt & comfort | (pogue!reader, mean girls, panic attack, crying, comforting!rafe, insecure!reader.)
No one figured Rafe Cameron would go for a Pogue. For all his life heâd been the number 1 Pogue hater, the biggest Kook defender, and overall just a pretentious asshole. Thatâs why it was the shock of the island when you showed up on his arm to Midsummerâs, wearing a dress that costed more than your rent with an anxious smile on your face.
Your boyfriend had promised to stick by your side for the entire night, and you were sure he meant it when he said it, but he hadnât taken into account just how enthused the elders were going to be to see him. He wasnât that teenage boy they knew anymore, instead a man living alone and dealing with his troubles; thanks to you.
It was halfway through the night when you went to the bathroom, the few glasses of champagne had your head feeling fuzzy and your bladder full. You locked yourself in the cubicle and started to do your business, before you heard voices from outside.
âItâs strange though, right?â The door closed behind the girls that had walked in, making you flinch as you stood to sort your dress out.
âRafe with a Pogue. Yeah, definitely weird,â a squeaky voiced girl agreed with a laugh.
âIt wonât last, trust me. Heâs only with her for the image, it makes him look good to do charity for a girl like that. Iâm pretty sure sheâs a waitress at the club,â the other one responded.
âIâll be sure to find him later and remind him of that.â The two of them giggled to themselves, gushing over how hot your boyfriend was for a couple more minutes before leaving. You didnât step out of the cubicle until you were sure that you were alone, hot tears running down your cheeks.
Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the fact those girls had said everything youâd been thinking for the last few months youâd been together, you werenât sure, but something about their words had hurt your feelings; and had sent you into a spiral. You sat down on the plush purple chair, breaths coming out rapidly and shakily.
âOh my god, what happened?â You hadnât even heard the door open, but as you turned your head you found Sarah rushing at you. She knelt down next to you, holding your hands as you let out fearful whimpers. âFuck. Okay, stay here, okay? Donât move!â She ran back out and you stared at the door, holding your chest anxiously.
Only a minute later the door was swinging open and Rafe was storming in, striding over to you. âHey, hey. Look at me,â he demanded, gentle but firmly as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. âBreathe for me, okay? Slow breaths, you got it.â
Heâd seen you like this a few times, heâd learnt the best ways to get you to relax. He held your hand over his own chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath your palm. He gave you a reassuring smile as you copied his breathing, gripping onto his fingers.
âGood girl,â he drawled, pulling you from the chair into his lap where he sat on the floor. He stroked your hair, leaving gentle kisses over your cheek. âYou want to tell me what happened?â
âItâs stupid,â you croaked out, still gripping onto his hand.
âNo. Itâs not. Tell me what happened, so I can sort it out and get the both of us out of the womenâs bathroom,â he joked, making you giggle tearfully.
You gave him a wobbly smile. You didnât have much of a choice now, it was time to admit to him the insecurities youâd had over the last few months; the ones that kept you up at night as he slept soundly beside you. âNo one here thinks Iâm good enough for you.â
âWhat?â His face scrunched up in confusion. âBaby, whatâre you talking about?â
âIâ Iâm a Pogue,â you whispered, as if you were admitting a crime.
âI know that,â he shrugged. âIâm not that oblivious, sweetheart. Why does that matter? Why are you saying this now?â
âBecause everyone thinks it Rafe! Iâm sure you have before, I know I have! Everyone here thinks youâre an idiot for being with me, that youâve lost your mind. Maybe theyâre right,â you cried out.
His hands grabbed your face firmly, leaning his forehead against yourâs as he held you in place. âYouâre the love of my life.â
âWhat?â You murmured.
âYou are the love of my life. I donât give a fuck if youâre a Pogue, I donât care that you eat pizza like youâve not eaten in years, or that you swear like a pirate. Youâre my girl, and I love you. I donât care about other peoples opinions, because theyâre irrelevant,â he explained slowly, caressing your cheek as he spoke. âNow, do you want to go home or do you want to get the biggest bottle of champagne and make fun of these losers?â
âThe second one,â you whispered, staring at him like a lovesick puppy.
He smirked, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. âThatâs my girl,â he mumbled, biting down on your bottom lip lightly to make you giggle. âNow, next time you get some dumb shit in your head you gonna tell me? Or do I have to spend all our loving conversations in the bathroom?â
You laughed, wiping your teary eyes as he helped you off his lap and back to your feet. He adjusted your flower crown with a cheesy grin, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. If you didnât believe his words before, you definitely did now. âYou donât like the bathroom?â
âWell⌠itâs definitely nicer than the menâs, Iâll give you that.â
SUMMARY: your entire life rafe had been giving you roses in different colours, but you never knew what he really wanted to say
WORD COUNT: 3956
GENRE: fluff
CONTENT WARNING: english is NOT my first language, soft!rafe cameron, oblivious!reader
rafe cameron was the kind of kid who never sat still. always running, climbing, jumping off something too high just to prove he could. but there was one thing he always slowed down for: you.
you didnât know why, back then. it wasnât like youâd done anything special. you were just the girl who lived two houses down, the one who tagged along on all his adventures because you were good at keeping up. youâd follow him through the woods behind the cameron house, across the sandy dunes near the water, and even onto the roof of the clubhouse his dad had built in their backyard.
but every so often, heâd stop, like heâd remembered something important, and heâd disappear for a minute or two.
the first time it happened, you were seven. youâd been playing hide-and-seek in the cameron yard, and youâd been crouched behind the garden shed for what felt like forever, waiting for him to find you. when he finally did, he was grinning, his hair messy and sticking to his forehead. in his hand was a single yellow rose.
âwhatâs that for?â youâd asked, wrinkling your nose.
âitâs for you,â he said, holding it out like it was no big deal.
âwhy?â
heâd shrugged. âjust âcause. youâre my best friend.â
that became his thing.
when you scraped your knee climbing a tree, rafe handed you a yellow rose from his momâs garden and said, âitâll make you feel better.â
when you had to spend a week at your grandparentsâ house and came back sulking about missing the beach, there he was with another yellow rose.
âwhat does it mean?â youâd asked one day, sitting cross-legged on his bed as he sorted through his pokĂŠmon cards.
âwhat?â he asked, not looking up.
âthe roses. why do you always give me yellow ones?â
he paused, his hands stilling. âitâs just⌠you know. the prettiest one i could find.â
âoh.â
heâd gone back to his cards, but youâd stared at the flower on the bedside table, something about it making your chest feel funny.
by the time you were ten, the roses felt like part of your routine. if you had a bad day at school, rafe would show up with one tucked behind his ear, waiting for you at your front door.
âhere,â heâd say, handing it over with a grin. âitâs magic. makes everything better.â
âthatâs not how magic works,â youâd reply, but you always accepted it anyway.
it wasnât just the big moments, either. sometimes he gave you roses just because. like when youâd meet him at the playground on a sunny afternoon, or when heâd knock on your window late at night to tell you about a new fort he wanted to build in the woods.
âanother one?â youâd tease, twirling the stem between your fingers.
âyep.â
âwhatâs it for this time?â
âi dunno. just wanted to give it to you.â
you never questioned it. rafe was rafe. the roses were just part of the deal.
but one day, when you were twelve, something changed.
heâd been quiet all afternoon, which wasnât like him. usually, rafe was the loudest person in the room, always cracking jokes or talking a mile a minute. but that day, as you sat side by side on the dock near his house, he barely said a word.
âwhatâs up with you?â you asked, nudging him with your elbow.
ânothing,â he muttered, staring at the water.
âyouâre lying.â
he looked at you then, his blue eyes serious in a way that made your stomach flip. after a long moment, he reached into his bag and pulled out another yellow rose.
âhere,â he said quietly.
you took it, studying his face. ârafe, whatâs wrong?â
ânothing,â he said again, but this time, he gave you a small smile. âi just wanted you to have it. thatâs all.â
you didnât push him. instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, the rose resting in your lap.
âthanks,â you whispered.
âanytime,â he replied.
by the time you were twelve, the yellow roses were a part of you. a part of him. they showed up in places they didnât belongâpressed between notebook pages, tucked into old shoeboxes, even wilting in jars on your windowsill. you didnât really know why you kept them, but you couldnât throw them away. they were yours.
but then, something changed, again.
it happened on a random summer afternoon. the sun was blazing, and you were sprawled out in the cameron backyard, sipping lemonade while rafe fixed the broken tire swing.
âyouâre gonna break your neck,â you called out, watching him balance precariously on the wooden frame.
he rolled his eyes but didnât answer. rafe never did listen to you when it came to stuff like this.
when he finally hopped down, covered in dirt and grass, he didnât head straight for the lemonade like you expected. instead, he disappeared into the house without a word.
âwhat are you doing?â you shouted after him, but he didnât answer.
a few minutes later, he came back, holding something behind his back.
âclose your eyes,â he said, a grin tugging at his lips.
âwhy?â
âjust do it!â
you sighed but obeyed, covering your face with your hands. âthis better not be another bug.â
âitâs not,â he promised, laughing. âokay, open.â
when you did, he was standing there with a single white rose.
âwhatâs this for?â you asked, staring at the delicate petals.
he shrugged, looking almost shy. âjust thought youâd like it.â
âbut⌠why white?â
âi dunno,â he said, scratching the back of his neck.
you didnât know what to say, so you just smiled and took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for half a second. you didnât notice the way his cheeks turned pink, or the way he stared at you a little too long before turning back to the swing.
that was the first white rose.
after that, the yellow roses didnât come often anymore. instead, youâd find white onesâon your doorstep, in your locker, or handed over with a casual, âhere, this is for you.â
you never asked why.
by the time you were fourteen, white roses were the new normal. rafe had grown taller, his voice deeper, his confidence sharper. but when he gave you roses, he was still the same boy youâd known forever.
âfor me?â you asked one day, twirling the stem of yet another white rose.
âwho else?â he replied, grinning.
then came your sixteenth birthday. you didnât expect anything bigâjust a day at the beach with rafe, like always. but when he showed up at your door, he wasnât empty-handed.
âwhatâs this?â you asked, staring at the bouquet of pink roses in his hands.
he shrugged, but his usual confidence was missing. âbirthday gift,â he said, thrusting them toward you.
you took them, your heart racing. âtheyâre⌠really pretty.â
âyeah, well. so are you.â
the words hung in the air, heavier than they shouldâve been. you stared at him, your cheeks burning, and for the first time, you didnât know what to say.
by the time you were seventeen, things had changed. it wasnât just the way you and rafe had grown upâit was the way heâd changed.
you could see it the moment he introduced herâlily, the new girl with the perfect hair and the perfect laugh and the perfect smile. she was everything you werenât, and you hated how easily rafe seemed to fall for her.
but that wasnât the worst part.
the worst part was that the roses stopped.
it was a sudden thing. at first, there were other flowersâa bouquet of daisies here, a random tulip thereâbut never roses. not the yellow ones youâd grown used to, not the white ones or the pink ones that had become a quiet declaration between the two of you. just... no flowers.
at first, you told yourself it didnât matter. it didnât. rafe had a girlfriend now.
he didnât owe you roses anymore.
but you missed them. you missed the thoughtfulness, the friendship, the feeling that, no matter what, you still had a place in his life.
and then the your biggest fear came trueâhe stopped being your friend altogether.
lily didnât like how close you and rafe had been. she didnât want him hanging out with his girl best friend anymore. so rafe, being rafe, did what he always did when he felt cornered: he let go.
you didnât get it at first. heâd stopped answering your texts, stopped showing up at the usual spots. at school, heâd walk by you without even looking up. youâd sit at lunch, watching him and lily from the other side of the cafeteria, and it made your chest ache in a way you couldnât explain.
there were no more texts to plan beach trips or late-night talks. no more spontaneous hangouts. nothing.
you tried reaching out once, twice, even three times, but it was always the sameâshort answers, distant replies, the kind that made it clear he didnât want to try anymore.
it was too painful. so you stopped trying.
instead, you focused on other thingsâother people.
it wasnât like you didnât have friends, but the friends you had before had always been people who had fallen into your life by default. you had never needed to work for them. they were always there, easy to hold on to. but now, as you walked down the hallway of your high school with a new group of girlsâgirls who wanted to be your friends, who made an effort to include you, to laugh with you, to spend time with youâyou realized something important.
you were learning to let go too.
the girls were different. they were fun and supportive in ways you hadnât realized you were missing. no one ever told you to back off from their boyfriends. no one ever gave you that uncomfortable look when you were laughing too loudly with one of the guys in the group.
it was easier, in a way. no complications. no unspoken feelings. just fun, carefree friendships.
but you couldnât help but feel that gnawing ache in your chest whenever you saw rafe and lily together. it was like a quiet reminder that everything between you and him was over.
and then, one day, you saw it.
lily posted a story on instagramâa picture of a vase of flowers. they were bright and pretty, but there was something painfully obvious about them. they werenât roses.
never roses.
they were daisies. lilies. tulips.
anything but roses.
you looked over at your new group of friendsâlaughing at something ridiculous, pulling you into their conversationâand for the first time in a long while, you realized something important: you were okay.
no, you werenât fine. you missed rafe. you missed your best friend. but you werenât going to stay in the past.
there was a part of you that hoped rafe would realize what heâd lost, that maybe, one day, heâd come back and apologize. but for now, you had other things to focus on.
and maybe that was enough for now.
but still, you didnât expect to see rafe cameron waiting for you after school.
the day had been uneventfulâjust the usual classes, the usual laughs with your friends, the usual reminder in the back of your mind that rafe wasnât part of your world anymore.
but there he was. leaning against the wall near the parking lot, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his hair a mess like heâd been running his fingers through it all day.
your first instinct was to ignore him. he hadnât spoken to you in months. months. heâd chosen lily, chosen her rules, chosen to let go of everything youâd shared.
but something about the way he lookedâlost, broken, sadâstopped you.
you stepped closer, hesitant. ârafe?â
his head snapped up, his blue eyes locking onto yours. for a second, he didnât say anything, just stared at you like he couldnât believe you were real.
âhey,â he said finally, his voice hoarse.
âwhat are you doing here?â you asked, your tone sharper than you meant it to be.
he flinched, but he didnât back down. âi... i needed to see you.â
âwhy?â
âbecauseââ he broke off, running a hand through his hair. âbecause i screwed up. and because i didnât know where else to go.â
you crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. âwhat about lily?â
he laughed, but it wasnât a happy sound. âsheâs gone. we broke up.â
âoh.â
you didnât know what else to say. part of you wanted to walk away, to tell him it wasnât your problem anymore. but the other partâthe bigger part, the one that still caredâcouldnât do it.
âcome on,â you said, jerking your head toward your car.
he blinked, surprised. âreally?â
âyeah,â you muttered. âletâs go.â
the drive back to your house was quiet, the air between you heavy with things unsaid. when you got home, you led him to your room, just like you always used to.
he sat on the edge of your bed, looking around like he couldnât believe he was there again. âyou changed it,â he said, his voice soft.
âyeah,â you replied, sitting cross-legged on the other side. âitâs been a while.â
he nodded, staring down at his hands. âiâm sorry.â
âfor what?â
âfor everything. for shutting you out. for choosing her. for being an idiot.â
you didnât say anything, letting the silence stretch between you.
âi missed you,â he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
you looked at him then, really looked at him, and you saw itâthe boy youâd grown up with, the one who used to make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one who always brought you roses.
âi missed you too,â you admitted.
his head snapped up, his eyes filled with something you couldnât quite name. âyeah?â
âyeah,â you said, smiling faintly. âbut youâre still an idiot.â
he laughed, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.
you talked for hours, just like you used to. about everything and nothing, about the way life had shifted and the things youâd both been through. it was easy, familiar, like slipping back into an old rhythm.
when he finally stood to leave, you followed him to the door, your heart heavier than you wanted to admit.
âthanks for... for letting me in,â he said, his hand lingering on the doorknob.
âyouâre always welcome,â you said softly.
he nodded, gave you one last look, and then he was gone.
when you turned back toward your room, something caught your eyeâa splash of color on your bed.
frowning, you walked closer, and your breath caught in your throat.
a single purple rose rested on your pillow.
you picked it up, your fingers trembling as you held it to your chest.
you sank onto the bed, staring at the flower, your mind spinning.
he hadnât said it, but he didnât need to. the rose said everything he couldnât.
and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybeâjust maybeâyou and rafe werenât finished after all.
by the time you were eighteen, you and rafe had found your way back to each other.
it hadnât been easy, not at first. there were awkward silences, half-finished sentences, and moments where you both stumbled over how to act around each other. but slowly, the cracks healed. the space between you shrank. and before you knew it, you were best friends again, just like youâd been before everything fell apart.
except now, things were different in a way you couldnât quite put your finger on. it wasn't different as in your roses changed from yellow to white, it was just... different.
rafe spent more time with you and your friends than he did with his own. heâd show up at your place unannounced, invite himself to girlsâ nights, and make himself at home in your little world. your friends loved himâwho wouldnât? he was funny, charming, and could win over just about anyone with a crooked smile and a well-timed joke.
and then there were the roses.
at first, it had felt like slipping back into an old routine. rafe had always given you flowersâyellow for friendship, white for something deeper, pink for gratitude and love. so when he started showing up with four roses every time he saw you, you didnât think much of it.
a pink rose, soft and sweet.
a white rose, pure and delicate.
a yellow rose, bright and cheerful.
and a dark pink rose, richer, deeper, full of meaning you didnât quite understand.
âwhatâs this for?â youâd ask every time, your voice teasing.
âdo i need a reason?â heâd reply, smirking as he handed them over.
youâd roll your eyes, tuck them into a vase, and move on.
it wasnât until one friday night, when rafe wasnât there, that your friends brought it up.
you were sprawled out on your living room floor with your two best friends, abby and jen, eating popcorn and flipping through magazines. the absence of rafeâs usual presence was noticeable, but you didnât mention it.
âso,â abby said, sitting up and tossing a kernel into her mouth. âare you and rafe, like... a thing?â
you blinked, startled. âwhat?â
jen raised an eyebrow. âyou and rafe. are you dating?â
you laughed, the sound a little too loud. âno. what? no way. weâre just friends.â
âjust friends?â abby repeated, her tone skeptical.
âyes,â you said firmly. âweâve been best friends since we were kids. thatâs all it is.â
jen exchanged a look with abby, then turned back to you. âokay, but... the roses?â
âwhat about them?â
âhe gives you flowers every time he sees you!â abby said, throwing her hands up.
âso? heâs always done that.â
âalways?â jen asked, her eyes wide.
âyeah,â you said with a shrug. âsince we were six.â
both girls gaped at you like youâd just confessed to a crime.
âyouâre telling me,â abby said slowly, âthat rafe cameron has been giving you flowers for twelve years, and youâve never thought it was weird?â
âitâs not weird,â you said defensively. âitâs just... a thing we do. it doesnât mean anything.â
âit definitely means something,â jen said, crossing her arms. âguys donât give roses to their best friends for over a decade unless theyâre in love with them.â
âheâs not in love with me,â you said, rolling your eyes.
âbabe,â abby said, leaning forward. âdark pink roses? those mean, like, admiration and gratitude, but also... yâknow. romance.â
you opened your mouth to argue, but the words stuck in your throat.
âand white roses? purity. pink? love. yellow? friendship. heâs literally giving you every part of him in flower form,â jen added.
you stared at them, your mind racing.
âheâs... heâs just being rafe,â you said weakly.
âexactly,â abby said. âand rafe is in love with you.â
their words echoed in your head long after the conversation ended, and when you went to bed that night, your eyes drifted to the vase on your desk.
four roses. pink, white, yellow, dark pink.
youâd never questioned them before. but now, for the first time, you wondered if maybeâjust maybeâthere was more to them than youâd ever let yourself believe.
your nineteenth birthday was minutes away, and you were already in bed.
well, technically you were sitting on your bed, legs crossed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for the clock to hit midnight. your hair was twisted into perfect curls, your nose strip was firmly in place, and your face was freshly moisturizedâyour skincare routine impeccable as always.
you werenât expecting anything. your friends had already promised to make a big deal out of it tomorrow, and you figured the actual moment of your birthday would pass quietly, just you and your phone and a sleepy smile.
but then you heard the faint scrape of your window.
at first, you froze. was someone trying to break in?
ârelax,â came a familiar voice, low and teasing. âitâs just me.â
ârafe?â
you slid off your bed, rushing to the window to find him perched on the ledge, one hand gripping the frame, the other holding something behind his back.
âwhat are you doing?â you hissed, trying to keep your voice down. âitâs midnight!â
âexactly,â he said, flashing that boyish grin that always got him out of trouble. âhappy birthday.â
you blinked, completely thrown off. âyou climbed up here for that?â
he shrugged, effortlessly pulling himself through the window and into your room. âyouâre worth it.â
âyouâre insane.â
âand youâve got... something on your nose,â he said, his gaze locking onto the strip.
your cheeks flushed. youâd completely forgotten about your skincare situation.
âoh my god, i look ridiculous,â you muttered, turning away from him.
âno, you look... like you,â he said, his voice softer now.
you glanced back at him, narrowing your eyes. âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âit means i like you better like this,â he said simply. âno makeup, no filters, just... you.â
before you could respond, he brought his hand forward, revealing the bouquet heâd been holding.
âhere,â he said, holding it out to you.
you stared at it, your heart doing a strange little flip. the roses were beautifulâsoft pastel purple, deep dark purple, a single vivid red, and of course, the familiar yellow.
ârafe,â you whispered, taking them from him. âyou didnât have toââ
âyeah, i did,â he cut you off. âyou deserve them.â
ârafe...â you started, but the words wouldnât come.
he shrugged like it was no big deal, but the way he looked at you told you otherwise. âhappy birthday,â he said again, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.
you stared at him, your heart thudding in your chest. the weight of the flowers in your hands, the warmth in his gaze, the fact that heâd climbed through your window just to be the first to see you on your birthdayâit was all too much and somehow just enough.
âthank you,â you whispered, your voice unsteady.
he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as you clutched the bouquet.
âyouâre everything to me, you know that?â he said, the words tumbling out like he couldnât hold them back any longer.
your heart stopped for a moment, then started again, faster, louder.
ârafe...â
he shook his head, his hands moving to gently frame your face. âyou donât have to say anything. just... can Iâ?â
he didnât finish the sentence, but you understood.
âyes,â you breathed, barely able to get the word out.
he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you didnât. when his lips brushed yours, it was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid youâd disappear.
but then you kissed him back, and something inside both of you broke free.
the roses slipped from your hands onto the bed, forgotten as you melted into him, your arms winding around his neck, his fingers tangling gently in your curls.
when you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside your room completely forgotten.
âhappy birthday,â he whispered again, his smile so full of affection it made your chest ache.
âbest one yet,â you replied, your own smile matching his.
and as he stayed by your side, your head resting on his shoulder, the roses scattered around you, you couldnât imagine a better way to start a new year of your life.
and for years, you kept them allâpressed between the pages of your favorite books, tucked into jars on your windowsill, little pieces of rafe that made you feel like the most important person in the world.
