As someone that does NOT want kids, and seeing no oneshots about it…….I was thinking….Maybe Reader and Rafe have not yet had a discussion about it, as they are pretty early on in their dating (but in love) and her heart breaks when during a conversation (either with her/or her overhearing Rafe) it sounds like he wants them in the future with her. And she feels like she needs to break up with him so he can be happy and get what he wants. Loooooots of angst. But unknown to her, Rafe’s mindset is more ‘’I’ve never wanted kids, but if I was ever gonna have them, it would be with her, SHE makes me want them, but I would never want them with anyone else. It’s with her or no one’’
stop, this is such a beautiful request!! - 7.4k words
the sound of laughter echoed down the hall as you approached sarah’s room. you had stopped by tannyhill to check on her, bringing some homemade cookies since pregnancy had turned her into a snack connoisseur. but as you lifted your hand to knock on her bedroom door, sarah’s voice carried through the partially closed door, halting you in your tracks.
“so, rafe,” sarah’s voice rang out, teasing but curious, “what about you? would you ever want kids?”
you froze. her question caught you completely off guard, and before you could decide whether to knock or retreat, rafe’s voice answered.
“me? kids?” he chuckled, the sound light but contemplative. “i don’t know. i’ve never really thought about it seriously. i mean… the idea...”
“oh, come on,” sarah teased. “really?”
“yeah,” rafe admitted with a laugh. “but, i don’t know.”
“maybe it’s not as terrifying as i used to think.”
“that’s grossly sentimental for you, bro,” john b chimed in, his voice carrying a smirk.
“shut up,” rafe shot back, but there was no real venom in his tone. after a beat, he continued, “i mean, not now. God, no. we’ve still got plenty of time. we’re not that old yet.”
“so, you do think you’d want kids someday?” sarah pressed.
rafe nodded as his voice softened, thoughtful. “i think i might. someday, when things are right. i think i’d want that.”
your stomach twisted painfully at his words. it was the first time you’d ever heard him talk about wanting kids. and the fact that he sounded so… open to the idea? so sure, even if it was distant and vague? your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat.
“huh,” sarah said after a pause, clearly surprised. “that’s not what i expected you to say.”
“yeah, well,” rafe let out a wry chuckle. “i just never gave it a real thought before.”
“either way, if it happens someday, i’d be okay with it.”
john b whistled low. “never thought i’d hear you say that, dude.”
“guess i’m full of surprises,” rafe quipped.
the three of them laughed, but you couldn’t move. his words were swirling in your mind, sinking in like stones into water, creating ripples of panic that spread through every part of you.
you backed away from the door, clutching the plate of cookies like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. your thoughts blurred into a dizzying mess as you made your way down the hall, heart pounding in your chest.
rafe wanted kids.
not now, but someday. he wanted a future that included something you’d never imagined for yourself. the realization hit you like a wave, and for the first time since you’d fallen for him, you wondered if love would be enough to hold you both together.
the faint sound of footsteps descending the stairs broke through the quiet hum of the kitchen. you busied yourself with arranging the cookies on a plate, your movements deliberate, careful, as though focusing on the small task would keep your thoughts in check.
“hey, baby,” rafe’s voice came from the doorway, warm and casual. he stepped in, his hair slightly tousled, his expression relaxed. the sight of him sent a pang through your chest, but you forced a small smile and turned toward him.
“hi,” you replied softly, keeping your tone light. “these cookies are for sarah, but take one if you want one.”
he approached, his gaze flickering to you before landing on the plate. “you okay? you didn’t come up to sarah’s room.”
you shrugged, busying yourself with wiping imaginary crumbs off the counter. “i wasn’t feeling great. thought i’d just drop these off and head home.”
his brow furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes. “what’s wrong? anything i can do?”
“you look kinda pale.”
you waved a hand dismissively, stepping back from the counter and crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “i’m fine, just… not feeling great. probably something i ate.” the words felt hollow, but they were enough to deflect.
he frowned, his concern deepening. “anything i can do? want me to get you some water or—?”
“no,” you cut in, the word sharper than you intended. you softened immediately, forcing a small smile. “i’m fine. really. i think i just need to head home and rest.”
rafe stepped closer, his hand brushing your arm, a gentle tether to reality. “you sure?”
“yeah,” you said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. “i’ll be fine. don’t worry about me.”
rafe didn’t seem convinced. he stepped closer, his gaze searching your face. “you sure? i can drive you home if you want.”
you avoided his eyes, turning to rearrange the plate of cookies unnecessarily. “that’s sweet, but i’ll be okay. it’s not a big deal.”
his gaze lingered on you, uncertain, before he nodded. “alright. but if you need anything, just call me, okay?”
you nodded, your smile stretched too thin. “of course.”
rafe leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. the gesture was warm, tender, and it made the ache in your chest intensify. he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you in that familiar way that always made you feel safe. but tonight, it felt different—like the embrace of someone standing on one side of an invisible divide while you stood on the other.
“get some rest, alright?” he murmured against your hair.
“yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i will.”
for a moment, the two of you stood there, the air between you heavy with unsaid words. then you stepped back, putting a little space between you and his earnest concern.
“well, enjoy the cookies,” you said, trying to inject some brightness into your tone. “sarah’s gonna love them, i think.”
rafe’s lips curved into a small smile, though his eyes lingered on you, still laced with worry. “she will. you’re amazing for making them.”
you waved him off with a faint laugh, already heading toward the door. “tell her i said hi.”
“hey,” he called after you, his voice stopping you just as your hand touched the doorknob. when you turned back, his expression was serious, almost hesitant. “take care of yourself, alright?”
your heart twisted, but you forced a steady nod. “i will. see you later, rafe.”
he lingered for a moment, as if sensing something was off, before letting you go. he watched you walk away.
as the door clicked shut behind you, the silence pressed down heavily, and you sank into your car, staring blankly at the street in front of you. the disconnect between your love for him and the path his words upstairs had revealed felt like an unbridgeable chasm.
you sat there for what felt like an eternity, detached from everything except the pounding in your chest and the weight of the questions you didn’t yet know how to answer.
the bathroom was quiet except for the soft hum of your phone speaker, playing a low, calming playlist. the pale light above the mirror cast a warm glow over your face as you leaned in, focusing on the small ritual of doing your makeup. the act was as soothing as it was deliberate—something to keep your hands busy and your mind steady.
you started with foundation, dotting the liquid across your face and blending it out with a damp beauty blender. the repetitive motion was grounding, the soft pat-pat-pat against your skin a reminder to breathe. you took your time, making sure everything looked even, though rafe had never seemed to notice the small imperfections you always fretted over. he’d tell you, you looked beautiful even if you showed up barefaced, hair messy, and wearing sweatpants.
but tonight wasn’t just any night. it was saturday, your night, and for the past five months, it had become a routine you both cherished. rafe would pick you up, dressed to perfection, and take you somewhere special. every week was different—a cozy little café one night, a moonlit stroll on the beach another. and tonight? he’d hinted at something fancy, something that made your chest flutter with excitement.
you reached for your concealer next, dabbing it under your eyes and along the sides of your nose. as you blended it out, your mind wandered. you hadn’t thought about that conversation in a few days, but as always, it came creeping back.
“i think i might. someday.”
rafe’s voice echoed in your mind, soft but resolute. the words had taken root, an unshakable presence that you couldn’t quite ignore. he had sounded so open to the idea of a future you’d never envisioned for yourself. and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, it lingered.
you shook your head, focusing on your reflection. not tonight. you weren’t going to let those thoughts ruin what should be a perfect evening.
your blush came next, a warm, rosy hue that you dusted lightly across your cheeks. it brightened your face, giving you a soft glow. you smiled faintly, testing it in the mirror, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. ‘fake it till you make it,’ you told yourself, setting the brush down.
moving on to your eyes, you picked up a neutral-toned palette and traced a soft brown into the crease of your lids, blending carefully. the act of applying eyeshadow always required precision, and for a while, it was all you could think about—whether the colors matched, if they blended smoothly.
when you finished, you reached for your eyeliner, hesitating for a moment. you didn’t always wear it, but tonight felt like an eyeliner kind of night. you traced a thin line along your upper lashes, flicking it out into a small wing at the corners. it wasn’t perfect, but it would do.
lashes were the final touch for your eyes, and you took your time applying it, brushing the wand through your lashes until they were looked full enough. the transformation was subtle but striking, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel satisfied.
the last step was your lips. you chose a specific shade, one that complemented your dress without drawing too much attention. as you swiped the color across your lips, you caught your own gaze in the mirror. you looked… good.
stepping back, you assessed the final result. the makeup was understated but elegant, a perfect match for the dress waiting for you on the hanger. you tilted your head, testing a smile. this one felt more real, though there was still a faint unease lurking beneath the surface.
it’s just another saturday. just another date with rafe. stop. overthinking.
grabbing a makeup wipe, you cleaned the edges of the sink and glanced at the time. he’d be here soon. the thought sent a rush of nervous energy through you, the kind that always came just before you saw him.
you leaned in one last time, making sure everything was just right before stepping back. “good enough,” you muttered to yourself, forcing another smile.
the sound of a car horn outside startled you, and you grabbed your purse, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror. with a deep breath, you turned off the bathroom light and headed for the door, bracing yourself for the night ahead.
the soft hum of the car engine filled the air as rafe drove, one hand resting on the wheel, the other casually draped over the center console. the smell of his cologne—crisp and woodsy—lingered in the small space, grounding you in the moment. he looked over at you, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, and smiled.
“still not going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked, your voice teasing as you glanced over at him.
“nope,” he replied with a smirk, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “you’ll find out soon enough. trust me, it’s worth the suspense.”
you rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help the small flutter of anticipation that stirred in your chest.
the drive was peaceful, the city lights stretching out around you as the car wove through the streets. you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the ride, the faint sound of music playing in the background as you chatted about your week. rafe had a way of making you forget about everything else, his steady presence filling the space with an easy warmth.
“okay, here we are,” he said, pulling into a sleek, modern building with a glowing sign that read le jardin. the valet was already stepping forward as rafe parked, opening your door with a flourish.
you stepped out, your heels clicking against the even pavement, taking in the restaurant’s elegant exterior. tall glass windows gave a glimpse into the softly lit interior, where tables were set with crisp white linens and flickering candles. it was the kind of place you’d never have thought to go on your own—too fancy, too refined. but with rafe beside you, it felt like you belonged.
“you really went all out tonight,” you said, slipping your hand into his as you approached the entrance.
he looked down at you, his grin softening into something warmer. “you deserve it.”
inside, the maître d’ greeted you with a smile, clearly recognizing rafe. he led you to a quiet table near the back, where a single candle flickered in the center of the table. the low hum of conversation filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of a piano playing somewhere in the distance.
rafe pulled out your chair for you before taking his own seat across the table. the intimacy of the setting, combined with the way he looked at you, sent a wave of warmth rushing through you.
“you’ve been here before?” you asked, glancing at the menu, which was printed in both french and english.
“once or twice,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “figured you’d like it. plus, i hear the chocolate soufflé is life-changing.”
“is that so?” you asked with a laugh, raising an eyebrow.
“oh, definitely,” he said, his expression serious in a way that was clearly exaggerated. “it’s basically the reason i brought you here.”
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. he had a way of making you feel at ease, of turning even the most sophisticated setting into something comfortable and fun.
the waiter appeared, taking your drink orders and explaining the evening’s specials. you let rafe order for both of you, trusting his judgment, and before long, the first course arrived—a beautifully plated dish that looked almost too good to eat.
as the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. you found yourself laughing at his jokes, your worries melting away with each passing moment. there was something intoxicating about the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room, his attention unwavering.
when the dessert arrived—a shared chocolate soufflé with a dollop of whipped cream on the side—he scooped up a bite and held it out to you.
“here,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement. “you’ve gotta try this.”
you leaned forward, taking the offered bite, and your eyes widened as the rich, velvety chocolate melted on your tongue.
“okay, you weren’t kidding,” you said, savoring the taste. “this is amazing.”
“told you,” he said smugly, taking a bite for himself.
by the time the bill arrived, you felt lighter than you had in days, the tension you’d carried with you earlier almost forgotten. rafe reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“you okay?” he asked, his voice quiet, his gaze searching.
“yeah,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. “i’m good.”
he smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “good.”
as you left the restaurant, his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.
but as you climbed back into the car and the city lights blurred past the windows, the memory of his words from that day at tannyhill crept back into your mind. “i think i might. someday.”
you tried to push the thought away, focusing instead on the sound of his voice as he told you a story about something ridiculous sarah had done earlier that week. for now, you would hold onto this—the laughter, the warmth, the way he made you feel like nothing else mattered. even if the future still felt uncertain, tonight, you had him. and that was enough.
the hum of the engine and the gentle rhythm of the tires against the road filled the quiet as rafe drove, his hand resting comfortably on the wheel. the warm night air filtered through the cracked windows, carrying with it the faint scent of salt from the ocean.
it was late—later than you usually stayed out—but neither of you seemed eager for the night to end. you glanced over at him, watching the way the soft glow of the dashboard lights cast shadows across his face. he looked relaxed, one hand loosely gripping the wheel while the other rested on his thigh.
“where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peaceful stillness.
“you’ll see,” he replied, glancing at you with a small smile. “just trust me.”
“i always do,” you said softly, and his smile widened.
the road stretched out before you, empty and quiet, lined with tall palm trees that swayed gently in the warm breeze. above, the sky was a vast expanse of deep indigo, dotted with countless stars that seemed to twinkle just for you. you leaned your head against the window, watching them blur and shimmer as the car rolled along.
rafe reached over and took your hand, his fingers threading through yours with an ease that made your heart flutter. his palm was warm against yours, grounding you in the moment.
“it’s so quiet,” you murmured, looking out at the horizon. the ocean was just barely visible now, a dark, endless expanse that mirrored the sky.
“yeah,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “figured we could use some quiet after tonight.”
you smiled, squeezing his hand. “it was perfect, by the way. the restaurant, the soufflé… all of it. thank you.”
he glanced at you briefly, his blue eyes soft. “you don’t have to thank me. i just like seeing you happy.”
your chest tightened at his words, and you looked away, focusing on the stars again. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it, so matter-of-fact, like your happiness was the most important thing in the world to him.
after a few more minutes, he turned down a narrow, unpaved road that wound through the dunes. the sound of the ocean grew louder, the rhythmic crash of waves filling the night air. he parked the car at the edge of a small clearing and turned off the engine, leaving only the soft chirping of crickets and the distant roar of the sea.
“come on,” he said, stepping out and coming around to open your door.
you took his hand as you stepped out, the sand cool beneath your feet as you took of your heels. the beach stretched out before you, illuminated by the pale light of the moon and stars. the water glittered in the distance, its surface shifting and shimmering with each wave.
“it’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean.
“not as beautiful as you,” rafe quipped, grinning when you rolled your eyes.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked toward the shoreline. the warm breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed, and the sand was soft and cool beneath your feet. you kicked off your shoes without a second thought, letting your toes sink into it.
rafe led you to a spot where the dunes gave way to a flat stretch of sand, and he sank down, tugging you gently to join him. you sat beside him, your shoulder brushing his, as you both looked up at the stars.
“they’re so bright out here,” you said, tilting your head back.
“yeah,” rafe agreed, his voice quiet. “hard to see them like this back in town.”
Fforr a while, neither of you spoke, content to sit in the stillness. his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm. the simple touch sent shivers down your spine, but not from the cold—it was the kind of warmth that came from feeling completely safe, completely at ease.
“what are you thinking about?” he asked eventually, his voice breaking the silence.
you hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. “just… this,” you said finally, gesturing toward the sky. “how big it all is... and how small we are.”
rafe chuckled softly. “getting philosophical on me now?”
“maybe,” you said with a smile. “it’s just… nights like this make me feel like everything’s okay. like it doesn’t matter how messy life gets because this”—you gestured again, to the ocean, the stars, everything—“is always here.”
he was quiet for a moment, then said, “i get that. it’s kind of nice, isn’t it? knowing that some things don’t change.”
you turned to look at him, his face illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. he was already watching you, his expression soft and open in a way that made your heart ache.
“yeah,” you said quietly. “it is.”
without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arm tightening around you.
“thanks for bringing me here,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.
“anytime,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “i’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
you didn’t respond, but the way your fingers curled around his was answer enough. together, you sat beneath the stars, the waves crashing in the distance, the rest of the world fading away.
that was, until the sound of a sudden snuffling startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. a dog—a big, floppy-eared golden retriever—trotted past, his nose buried in the sand as he sniffed around curiously. his tail wagged with enthusiasm, sending little puffs of sand into the air.
“charlie!” a woman’s voice called out, tinged with both amusement and exasperation. “get back here!”
you turned toward the sound, spotting a figure approaching in the distance. as the dog made his way over to you and rafe, his owner hurried closer, followed by a man holding the hand of a young child who couldn’t have been older than three.
“i’m so sorry!” the woman said as she reached you, her hand resting on the swell of her pregnant belly. she looked flustered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “he gets too excited around people.”
“especially when he smells the ocean. i hope he didn’t bother you.”
“no, not at all,” rafe said, grinning as he crouched to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “charlie, huh? he’s a good boy.”
the dog wagged his tail even harder, clearly pleased with the attention.
the woman smiled, her relief evident. “he’s just a bit too enthusiastic sometimes.”
“it’s all good,” rafe said with a warm smile.
the woman laughed, her embarrassment giving way to gratitude. “thank you for being so understanding. it’s been chaos trying to wrangle him and the little one while…” she patted her belly, her voice trailing off.
“when’s the baby due?” rafe asked, his voice filled with genuine interest.
“oh, just a few weeks now,” she said, resting a hand on her belly. “it feels like forever, though. this one’s been much more active than our first.”
her husband laughed, shifting the toddler on his shoulders. “that’s an understatement. i keep telling her it’s because this one’s going to be a soccer player.”
“but, we’re so excited,” his wife replied, taking a hold of her toddler’s hanging hand.
“and you sound proud already,” rafe said with a chuckle.
“of course,” the man replied, beaming. “family’s everything.”
“she’s been amazing through everything. i don’t know how she does it.”
the woman rolled her eyes playfully at her husband but smiled, her expression softening as she looked at her family.
“thank you,” the man said, clearly glowing with pride. “and good luck to you two someday.”
rafe laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he replied, “yeah, thank you. i can’t wait.”
the words felt like a punch to your stomach. your eyes snapped to rafe, and for a second, the world seemed to stop spinning. time itself seemed to freeze as you watched him.
his face was glowing, his eyes wide and filled with an excitement you hadn’t seen before. they sparkled, brighter than the stars above, his expression open and so unguarded that it took your breath away.
full of something you could only describe as hope.
it was a look so pure, so unburdened, that for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. the waves went silent, the stars froze in their constellations, and the night held its breath.
but that feeling in your chest wasn’t warmth or joy—it was a cold, sinking dread.
you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. the sight of him—so happy, so open—sent a sharp pang through your chest, twisting and knotting into something that felt almost unbearable.
the family waved as they turned to leave, the dog bounding along happily beside them. rafe sat beside you, watching them go with a soft smile on his face, his hand slipping into yours.
“that’s the dream, huh?” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. then he turned to you, his smile growing.
“i can’t wait for us to get to that point, you know? when we’re married and starting our own little family.”
his words shattered the fragile calm you’d been clinging to. your chest tightened, and your throat felt like it was closing up. the thought of his dream—the dream you couldn’t seem to picture for yourself.
your stomach flipped violently, a wave of nausea crashing over you as the words sank in. you couldn’t think, couldn’t process. the idyllic vision he painted—the future he clearly dreamed of—it wasn’t yours. And it was becoming painfully clear that it might never be.
suddenly, the stars seemed too bright, the air too thick, and the sand felt like it was swallowing you whole.
“i—” you cut yourself off, swallowing hard. “i think i want to go home.”
he blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. “what? are you okay? did something happen?”
you shook your head quickly, avoiding his eyes. “no, nothing. i just… i don’t feel great.”
“do you want to—”
“no,” you said, a little too sharply. “i just… i need to go home.”
rafe hesitated, clearly concerned, but he nodded. “okay. let’s go.”
the drive back was a quiet one, the kind of silence that wasn’t quite comfortable but wasn’t unbearable either. the hum of the engine and the soft murmur of your playlist from the car speakers filled the void. your phone had connected to rafe’s car the moment he started it, as it always did—a small, automatic reminder of how intertwined your lives had become without you even noticing.
the familiar melodies from your favorite songs drifted through the car, songs you’d once shared with him on a whim, now part of the soundtrack to every drive you took together.
it felt all bittersweet.
rafe glanced at you every so often, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel in time with the music. you kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the streetlights blur as they passed. the warm glow of the night had given way to the cool, dim quiet of the late hour, and the stars still hung heavy above, visible even through the city lights.
when he pulled into your driveway, he put the car in park but didn’t make a move to turn it off. for a moment, the two of you just sat there, the last strains of a song fading into the next.
“thanks for tonight,” you said softly, finally breaking the silence. “i had a lot of fun… while it lasted.”
his lips quirked into a small, hesitant smile. “i’m glad you did. you looked like you were having a good time.”
“i was,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.
he studied you for a moment, as though trying to decipher the meaning behind your words, before he leaned across the console. his hand reached for yours, his fingers brushing yours gently, and for the first time since leaving the beach, you looked at him.
“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice filled with a concern that made your chest ache.
you nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “yeah. just tired.”
he didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture was so tender, so inherently rafe, that it made the knot in your chest tighten even further.
“let me walk you to your door,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, leaving no room for argument.
you nodded silently, and the two of you stepped out of the car. the night air was cooler now, the faint sound of crickets filling the quiet as he fell into step beside you. he held your hand loosely as you walked up the path, the familiar warmth of his touch somehow both comforting and overwhelming.
when you reached your door, he turned to face you, his gaze searching yours for something you couldn’t bring yourself to offer.
“goodnight, baby,” he said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough for your breath to catch. “text me if you need anything, okay?”
“i will,” you lied, the words barely audible.
you stepped inside, offering him one last fleeting smile before closing the door. through the crack in the curtains, you watched as he stood there for a moment, his hands in his pockets, before finally turning and walking back to his car.
the sight of his taillights disappearing down the street left you standing in the quiet of your home, your heart heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.
the days that followed your night at the beach were heavy and strange. you found yourself retreating into your thoughts, replaying almost every moment you had with rafe and analyzing it to exhaustion. you hadn’t returned his texts or calls right away, and when you finally did, your responses were clipped and neutral.
he noticed, of course. rafe always noticed. but he didn’t push, at least not at first.
it wasn’t that you didn’t care for him—you did, deeply. that was the problem. you cared too much, and the thought of a future you couldn’t share, one he so clearly dreamed of, felt like an anchor pulling you down. you didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t see a way forward that wouldn’t.
so, after days of avoiding him and mulling over your options, you texted him, asking to meet at the frozen yogurt place you both liked. it was neutral ground, public, somewhere you could speak without the intimacy of his car or your home.
when you arrived, he was already there, sitting at a secluded table in the corner. his smile was warm as he waved you over, but you barely managed one in return.
the froyo place felt colder than usual, even though the warm pastel colors and hum of the machines usually made it inviting. he looked so at ease, one arm draped casually over the back of his chair, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.
“hey,” he greeted, leaning back in his chair as you sat down. “i got here a little early, so i already ordered. figured you’d want your usual.”
“thanks,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze as you fiddled with your bag.
he frowned slightly, but his expression quickly shifted to something lighter as he started talking, filling the space with his voice.
“so, the other day, topper had this brilliant idea—well, okay, not brilliant—but he wanted to see if we could—”
you weren’t really listening. the words blurred together as your thoughts drowned them out. your chest tightened as you worked up the courage to say what you’d been rehearsing in your head for days.
“—but kelce, being kelce, is just standing there filming the whole thing instead of helping. and, of course, he—”
“i think we should break up.”
the words sliced through his story like a blade, abrupt and jagged.
it fell from your lips before you could stop them, your voice flat and abrupt. the sound of them seemed to hang in the air, sharp and irreversible.
rafe stopped mid-sentence, blinking at you like he hadn’t heard right. “what?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his brows knitting together.
you couldn’t look at him. your gaze stayed fixed on the table, your fingers tracing the edge of your cup. “i think we should break up,” you repeated, quieter this time.
for a moment, he just stared at you, the confusion in his expression giving way to disbelief. “you’re kidding,” he said, a weak laugh escaping his lips. “this is a joke, right?”
his hand fell to the table, “where is this coming from? did i… did i do something wrong?”
you shook your head, your throat tightening as you forced the words out. “i’m serious, rafe.”
“serious?” he echoed, his voice dropping lower. “what are you talking about? where the hell is this coming from?”
“no,” you added quickly, “it’s not you, rafe. it’s just… i don’t think this is working.”
“not working?” he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “since when? things were fine—great, even! we’ve been great!”
“please don’t make this harder,” you interrupted, your voice cracking.
“harder?” he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “i think i deserve an explanation at least. if i did something, just tell me, and we can—”
“it’s not you.”
but the words sounded hollow even to your own ears.
“not me?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “then what is it? is there someone else? did i do something—God, just tell me what’s going on!”
“it’s not about you!” you snapped, your tone sharper than you intended. the sting of your own words made you wince. “it’s not like that, rafe!” you snapped, your voice cracking as your composure began to slip.
“i just… i can’t do this right now, okay?”
“then what is it?” his voice broke, the raw emotion in it twisting the knife in your chest. “you can’t just say you want to end things without a reason. we’re not kids, and i deserve to know why the hell you’re doing this.”
you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. every explanation you’d rehearsed felt inadequate, and the weight of his gaze pinned you to the spot.
when the silence stretched too long, his face fell, his blue eyes darkening with hurt. “you’re not even going to try to explain?” he asked, his voice trembling now.
“i can’t do this,” you said, your voice barely audible as you stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor.
“wait, just—” he reached out instinctively, his hand brushing yours, but you pulled away like his touch burned.
“i have to go,” you said, your voice breaking completely.
“don’t do this,” he said, his tone almost pleading now.
“just… don’t go. please.”
but you didn’t look back. you pushed through the door and into the cool evening air, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe past the lump in your throat. his voice called after you, raw and desperate, but you didn’t stop.
you took the long way home, winding through narrow paths and side streets where cars couldn’t follow. the ache in your legs was nothing compared to the hollow, gnawing pain in your chest.
when you finally reached your front door, you collapsed against it, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. his face—confused, hurt, betrayed—was burned into your mind, and the sound of his voice pleading with you echoed in your ears.
you told yourself it was for the best. that someday, he’d understand.
two weeks had passed since that day at the frozen yogurt place. you'd kept to your routine, going to school, trying to pretend like everything was fine. it had never felt more unnatural, avoiding rafe in the halls, ignoring his messages, avoiding his eyes. but it was what you had to do, right? you had to push him away before he got any closer.
but tonight, as you sat in your room, the sound of rain pattering against your window, something felt different.
a knock on the door startled you, and you froze. who would be out there at this hour, especially with the storm raging outside?
when you opened the door, your heart skipped a beat. standing there, drenched from head to toe, was rafe.
his hair was plastered to his forehead, his shirt soaked through, his usual confident posture lost in the slumped shoulders that screamed exhaustion and heartbreak. his breath hitched as he saw you, eyes wide, his lips trembling.
“i couldn’t stay away,” he said, voice hoarse, barely audible over the storm.
you stood frozen for a moment, staring at him in shock. what was he doing here? why was he here? he had made it clear you were done. you’d made it clear.
but seeing him there, in front of you, eyes filled with a desperation you had never seen before, broke something inside you. without thinking, you stepped aside, pulling him in through the door.
“rafe, you’re soaked…” you mumbled, your heart pounding as you led him into the warmth of your living room. his wet clothes left puddles on the floor as you quickly grabbed a towel from the kitchen, your hands trembling slightly as you began to dry his hair.
“i don’t care,” he whispered, almost fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. he stood still, not meeting your gaze, just letting you work in silence.
the tension in the room was thick, but after a long moment, rafe finally spoke again, his voice cracking under the weight of the words.
“i’ve never been so sure of anything in my life… that i want a future with you. i can’t imagine it without you,” he said, his eyes meeting yours now.
“i don’t care what happens in the future, or how hard it gets, i want you. i need you, and i can’t lose you. please, don’t make me lose you.”
your heart ached at the rawness of his words, and you pulled the towel away from his head, your fingers brushing against his skin, still damp and cold.
“rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you led him to the couch, sitting beside him. “i never wanted to hurt you. you mean everything to me.”
he looked at you, his eyes pleading, his voice barely a whisper as he finally broke down. “i thought i had everything figured out, but you… you changed me, for the better. i don’t care about anything else. i just want to be with you, now and forever. you make me see a future i never thought i wanted, and i’m terrified of losing it. losing you.”
you felt your chest tighten, the storm outside reflecting the storm inside you. he was so vulnerable, so open, and it was breaking you.
but the words you needed to say, the reason you broke up with him, had been eating away at you for days, and now, you knew it was time.
“rafe… i… i was—i am scared,” you began, your voice shaky. “i was scared of how much i cared about you, of how much i wanted things to work, but i didn’t think we could. i can’t give you what you want. and i don’t want to hold you back from whatever future you had in mind.”
he reached for your hand, his grip tight and desperate. “what are you talking about? i don’t need anything else. i just need you.”
you looked at him, your heart pounding as the words finally came, spilling out in a rush. “i’m talking about children. the one you were dreaming of. i don’t think i’m ready for that. i don’t think i’ll ever be ready. i don’t want kids.”
rafe blinked, the shock on his face growing as he processed your words, and for a moment, silence filled the room.
then, slowly, his lips parted, and he reached for your hand, pulling it gently toward his chest. his eyes burned with an intensity you couldn’t look away from.
“you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. i’d never want it with anyone else. i don’t care about the future without you,” he said, his voice raw and urgent. “if i can’t have it with you, i don’t want it at all.”
you stared at him, your heart racing. the weight of his words hung in the air, and despite all the doubts you’d had, the walls you’d built, you couldn’t help but feel them start to crumble.
the air between you and rafe hung heavy with unsaid words, the tension thick with the vulnerability you both shared. the storm outside had grown worse, but inside, everything felt still, almost suspended in time. rafe’s gaze never left yours, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he loosened it even for a second.
you couldn’t speak at first, couldn’t find the right words to bridge the gap between what you both felt. the silence was unbearable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was just… raw. vulnerable. everything that had been left unspoken, hanging in the space between you, was finally being acknowledged.
“i’m sorry,” rafe’s voice cracked, breaking the quiet, and you felt your chest tighten at the sincerity in his words. “i should’ve… i should’ve asked what you needed. i should’ve paid more attention to how you were feeling. i was too focused on what i wanted. on the idea of what we could be.”
you shook your head, your thumb brushing gently across the back of his hand. “no, rafe. it wasn’t you, it was me. i was scared of how much i needed you, how much i wanted things to work. i didn’t think i could give you what you wanted… the future you dreamed of.”
“but i don’t want a future without you,” he whispered urgently, his eyes pleading, as if the very idea of being without you was something unbearable. “i don’t care what it looks like. i just want it to be with you. i don’t care about anything else.”
“we could adopt a cat or ten, i don’t care, as long as you’re by my side.”
your breath caught in your throat at his words, and for a moment, it felt like everything inside you had come undone, like the walls you’d built were nothing more than fragile dust in the air. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the rawness of everything he was feeling. and it was terrifying. terrifying because it mirrored exactly what you had been trying to avoid.
but you couldn’t avoid it anymore. you couldn’t keep pushing him away when all you wanted was to hold him close.
“baby,” you whispered.
“i’ll never want anyone else. it’s always been you, and it will always be you. i’m not going anywhere.” he said, his voice steady now, his gaze intense as he looked deep into your eyes.
you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of relief and pain washing over you. the way he looked at you, with such certainty and devotion, made everything feel like it was falling back into place. the pieces of your heart that had shattered began to slowly piece together again.
he reached for you then, pulling you into his arms, and you let him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm the chaos inside of you. his arms wrapped around you tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go, and you clung to him just as desperately.
“i don’t know what to say,” you mumbled against his chest, voice muffled as you tried to hold back your tears. “i didn’t want to hurt you, rafe. i thought if i just ended things, i wouldn’t have to face how much i cared about you.”
“you don’t have to say or do anything,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “just let me hold you, please. let me be here for you. i don’t care about anything else.”
you felt the weight of everything finally start to lift, and in the warmth of his arms, it felt like you could finally breathe again. you pulled back slightly to look at him, his face soft and tired, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter.
“i don’t want to be without you, either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i was just… scared. scared of what this could mean. scared of how much i needed you.”
“you don’t have to be scared,” rafe said softly, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that had escaped. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll never leave you. i promise.”
you nodded, finally allowing yourself to relax, feeling his warmth envelop you in a way that made everything seem possible again. the storm outside had finally started to settle, and inside, it felt like the world was starting to right itself.
“i love you, i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words feeling both foreign and familiar as they slipped from your lips.
rafe’s eyes softened, and he smiled, that soft, genuine smile that you loved so much. “i love you too. more than you’ll ever know.”
you both stayed there for a long time, not saying anything, just holding each other, feeling the storm outside fade into the background as the warmth between you two grew.
and for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew that everything was going to be okay.
summary: in which Rafe saves you from a passive aggressive brunch w/ the kook girls and you give them a little show on your way out.
★ word count: 1.6k
★ tags: undefined relationship, bitchy rich people
★ a/n: just to be clear & so everyone is aware first photo is ALSO drew😵💫😵💫 and what if I can’t get over this. anywayyy requests are open, please give me your thoughts!!
Sixty more minutes. You just had to last one more hour, and then you could make some excuse and leave this brunch from hell once and for all.
The stiletto heel of your Louboutins taps against the floor as you stare out the window next to the table, wishing to be anywhere else. You glance down at your watch and have to stop yourself from sighing out loud at the hand barely shifting since the last time you checked.
“Do you have somewhere you need to be?” Ruthie’s voice slices through your thoughts. You shift your eyes across the table to her own, smiling sweetly.
“Of course not, Ruth!” She frowns at your use of her given name. “I cleared my morning for this.”
She hums, “I’m so glad. I feel like we haven’t seen you in ages.” The other girls at the table nod in agreement, which you can tell pleases her.
If passive aggressive could manifest itself as a relationship, it would be the one you and Ruthie had. Constant competition, though these days it’s more one sided than it had been when you were younger.
Honestly, you’d moved on from caring what any of them thought about you, but unfortunately for you, your father was adamant these fragile “friendships” be maintained. Something about business relations, or investing whatever… so you were making an appearance at brunch.
You sigh dramatically. “I know. I’ve just been so busy helping my father.” Technically not bullshit. “But I’ve missed you girls!” You pout. Fully bullshit.
Someone “awe!”s and another grabs your hand, returning the sap. Within the blink of an eye the conversation shifts, and you’re able to settle into the background again.
If you thought about it too hard, you’d start to hate this person you pretended to be. You had to be this person so often you’d worry that it was your true self instead of a character you played.
It was a sentiment you shared with Rafe, one of the many reasons you got along. So many nights spent in his arms…
Would it be rude to check your phone at the table?
You clear your throat, “Excuse me, just going to use the ladies room.” You don’t wait for a response from anyone, as you slide your chair back and grab your purse.
Your heels click noisily as you walk away from the table, not waiting until you’re out of view to pull out your phone. It didn’t matter if they believed your excuse or not.
1 missed call from Rafe Cameron
Are you done yet?
You smile to yourself as you round a corner, and find a random sofa to sit on for a few moments, typing out a response.
Of course not (:
Your phone buzzes immediately.
You left too early this morning
On my knees begging you to just leave, I’m more important
You giggle under your breath.
Someone’s needy
He’s rolling his eyes at that, you’re sure of it. It’s what he did half the time you teased him, but it was always followed by a smirk, and a shake of his head. He’d grab your hips and pull you into him, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered back jabs of his own.
If you need an escape vehicle, let me know(;
The short interaction with Rafe and the knowledge that you could go back to him as soon as you were done here is enough motivation to go and face the table again, if only to try and speed the meal along.
You stand up, ready to head back, but pause when you hear Ruthie’s voice.
Unsurprisingly, she’s speaking at a volume that almost prohibits other patrons from not listening in.
“I heard it didn’t work out with Jack. Can you honestly say you’re surprised? I don’t blame him for leaving when he had the chance.”
You lean back against the wall as someone else chimes in.
“And all that shit about being busy with family business? Come up with a better excuse than that. It’s barely believable.” The table erupts into laughter.
The real reason you’d been absent was that you’d been spending all your free time with Rafe, but they didn’t need to know that.
Sighing, you roll your eyes. Why were you still here? Your phone still in your hand feels heavy as you bite your lip, mulling over the possible consequences of leaving now.
You let out a huff. Nothing you couldn’t handle, you decide.
Come save me?
Your foot starts tapping again as you wait for his response, apparently a new anxious tick you’ve picked up.
Be there in 10.
You lock your phone, relieved, and push off the wall, deciding to actually use the bathroom while you wait for your savior.
Staring at yourself in the mirror while you wash your hands snaps you back into character.
“So, what did I miss?” You breeze back into the empty chair, giving the girls a polite smile. If you hadn’t overheard them, you’d never be able to tell they’d been shit talking you five minutes earlier based on the expressions on their faces. But growing up as a Kook taught you to know better. It was an assumption that everyone made, and they were almost always right.
You take a sip of your… third? Fourth… mimosa.
“We were just talking about Rafe. Top and I want to set him up with Mila.” She smiles at the girl sitting next to her. “They’d be so cute together, don’t you think?”
She stares you down, narrowing her eyes slightly as you cough once to cover the liquid you’d choked on.
You nod, still recovering.
Mila sits up straighter, a satisfied smile plastered on her lips. “Once we’re together, I’m sure Ruthie and I can try to find someone for you! I heard Jack dumped you…” She trails off, as the other girls either look at you with pity, or occupy themselves with their plates.
“Oh, don’t worry about me! You focus all those matchmaking skills on everyone else, I’m doing just fine.” You feel the same sickly, sweet smile find its way to your face for the umpteenth time.
Your phone buzzes, and you glance down.
Just outside.
The sound of an engine rolling into a parking space just beyond the window draws your attention.
Ruthie notices and follows your gaze, “Speak of the devil!” She smirks, nudging Mila.
You sigh loudly, trying to sound disappointed and making a show of getting up. “Girls, I really hate to cut this short, but something’s come up with the family business. You understand?”
The chair scrapes loudly as you push it back in, making Mila wince. Ruthie is anything but amused, “Take care of yourself, YN!”
Faking sincerity, you put a hand over your chest, “You too, honey.”
You almost yank the zipper off of your wallet as you pull out a few hundreds to toss onto the table. “On me, ladies! So nice to see you all.”
Half the table scowls, or raises their eyebrows, while the other half stays distracted by Rafe, who is now leaning against the outside of his car, arms folded across his chest.
You pick up your pace on your way out.
“Christ he’s hot.”
“We should go say hi.”
Their voices fade as you push through the double doors. Rafe’s head turns toward you as you walk to him. He smiles wide, pulling his sunglasses down.
“Hey baby.”
He takes two long strides to meet you, and the first real smile all morning graces your lips as he pulls you into a warm hug.
You wrap your arms around him, and as he rubs your back, you can feel the tenseness leaving your shoulders. Sighing contentedly, you hook your fingers in his waistband and lean back to look at him.
He raises an eyebrow, “That bad?”
You nod, “And we have an audience.” You bite your lip, trying not to laugh at the obviously craned necks in the window.
“I noticed.” Rafe smirks, moving his hands to both sides of your neck to pull you into a very slow and very intimate kiss. It sends a shiver over your arms, despite the afternoon sun.
He turns to walk you to his car, keeping one arm slung casually, but intentionally, over your shoulders. You make sure to keep your eyes lovingly on him (like that was hard) as he opens the passenger door for you, sliding his sunglasses back on while he waits for you to get in.
With the door shut, he walks around the front of the car, pausing to wave to the girls you’d left inside with that signature Cameron smirk.
His hand is firmly on your thigh as he pulls out of the parking lot revving his engine, and it makes you laugh.
You cover his hand and intertwine your fingers, and loop your other arm through his, angling yourself to face him. It was one of your favorite views: one hand on the wheel, one hand on you…
“Thank you.” You tell him sincerely. “Ruthie was becoming overbearing.”
He glances over at you, “She needs to be taken down a few pegs. I don’t know why you don’t just bitch her out once and for all.” You giggle at his seriousness, “I’m taking the moral high ground for now.”
He clicks his tongue and laughs, “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.” It causes you to swat at his arm. “Oh, whatever.”
You sit back in the seat, just enjoying being in the car with him, when your stomach grumbles.
You both look at each other, and you tut, “I didn’t actually eat anything…” You purse your lips, “…just alcohol.” He hums amusedly as you start giggling, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit tipsy now that you didn’t have to be on guard.
“Let’s go get you a real brunch.”
a/n: y’all know the “hey baby” clip of drew from the other zoey😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫 that was in my mind when I wrote that
Rafe plays some kind of sport, (football??) and reader wears a jersey with someone else’s number?
🩷
𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐣𝐨𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞
summary: you and rafe cameron have been together throughout the duration of college since meeting at a freshman seminar during your guys' first week attending university. you've stuck by your jock of a boyfriend consistently ever since, witnessing all the highs and lows of his athletic career while playing for your school's football team. it's now both of you twos senior year and your boyfriend's football season is drawing to a close, leading you to come up with the idea to play a prank on him in honor of his last game. with the help of his best friend, topper thornton, you come up with a devious scheme that you know will illicit a rise out of an unsuspecting rafe. it's finally saturday night and your school's team won their final game, now excitement was at an all time high and celebration was to be had. the night couldn't have gone any better, until rafe notices you wearing his best friend's jersey number instead of his.
author's note: hii! thank you for the request :) your wish is my command mwah
requests are open !
It was a picturesque, boisterous Saturday night just after your university's last game of the season had just wrapped up. A chorus of delirium erupted amongst the filled stadium once the final touchdown had been made, concluding the game and ruling that it was your boyfriend, Rafe's, team that had won. It didn't come as much of a shock to you as it did to everyone else when your boyfriend had been the one to score the last few points that won the team it's finishing game, due to the fact that Rafe was an exceptional athlete for as long as you could remember. However, despite your lack of surprise, you still felt a large quantity of enthusiasm following his accomplishment.
It had been an agreement amongst the football team and their girlfriends', you included, that had they won, there would be an afterparty at the Boneyard in order to celebrate. You had predicated ahead of time that the team would win regardless, so you took it upon yourself to end the season with a good, old-fashioned prank on you beloved partner, Rafe. As a way of doing so, you got in contact with Rafe's closest friend, Topper, to come together and plot the perfect stunt against him without his knowledge. The two of you came up with the idea that you would be showing up to the afterparty sporting an oversized football jersey with the catch being that the number written on it wouldn't be your boyfriend's, instead it would be his best friend's.
You were eager to show up at the Boneyard once the game was over just to be able to finally see Rafe face-to-face, even more to get his reaction once he realized you were wearing somebody else's jersey number. You ended up driving over to the location with a group of friends that you had arrived at the game with, making sure to text your boyfriend that you would be meeting up with him once you made it to the beach.
"Rafe is gonna kill you and Topper." One of your friends joked from the passenger seat as you neared your destination, shaking their head as they pictured the thought of Rafe's reaction once he saw what you had on.
"He wouldn't even raise his voice at me," you shrugged as you took a sip from the seltzer can that was in your hands, "but Topper, yeah he's dead." You stated, causing you and your friends to erupt in a fit of laughter throughout the car.
Impatience consumed you as you watched the car pull into the parking lot nearby before coming to a complete stop. You quickly hopped out of the vehicle and could see the flames of the bonfire that had been set up close by, telling you that you were close to where everyone else had been. You attempted to control your giggles and keep your composure while you treaded closer to the sight, feeling jitters in the pit of your stomach as Rafe and his teammates come into view.
"Hi baby." You greeted, your voice flowing with honey that was a sweet-surprise to Rafe's ears.
"Hey princess," Rafe welcomed as he turned to face you, his scleras coated a faint shade of red as the evidence of the alcohol in his system, "missed you." He murmured, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You basked in the way his lips felt against your skin as he opened you to his embrace, his free arm snaking over your shoulder to pull you into his side with glee.
"Ohh shit." Kelce interposed with his eyes glued to the jersey you were wearing. Immediately, you pressed your lips into a thin line in an attempt to conceal your laughter, silently praying that Rafe had not caught a glimpse of the expression written on your face.
"What?" Rafe catechized his friend for his sudden comment, looking over at the boy with confusion plastered on his features.
"Your girl is wearing Topper's number, bro." Another teammate added, gesturing to the large article of clothing you had on.
"What the fuck?" Your boyfriend remonstrated as his azure-shaded eyes surveyed your body, flickering over the numbers placed across the jersey. He observed the atypical digits, quickly recognizing them to have belonged to none other than his best friend. Fucking Topper.
Rafe's jaw began to clench, becoming noticeably tense and jut forwards at the slightest bit. You noticed that way his nostrils flared just before he took one last swig of the beer in his hands, throwing it on the grown with aggression after intaking the remaining liquid in the can. Your eyes widened, your jaw also falling open as you watched the provoked boy storm off in the direction of Topper as he stood obliviously with the crowd of individuals at the bonfire a few feet away.
"Rafe!" You shouted, trailing behind the long-legged boy as he stomped over in the direction of the cluster of people. Unfortunately for you though, your boyfriend was much faster and agile than you were, his long stature at his advantage when it came to getting places quicker.
Your efforts to gain Rafe's attention went unnoticed as he picked up speed. Panic set in as you spotted him place a hand on Topper's shoulder, swiftly turning him around to face him.
"Why the fuck is y/n wearing your jersey number? Did you fucking give it to her?" Rafe fumed, shoving Topper with enough force that caused him to stumble back a bit. Much to your boyfriend's surpise, the blond Kook simply laughed in return, his hands held up in the air in defense.
"I don't know how she got it bro. Must like me better or something." Topper mocked as he chuckled tauntingly, a clear attempt to get a rise out of the already seething boy.
"Don't fucking play with me right now, Topper. How. Did. She. Get. Your. Jersey." He demanded.
"You should ask your girl." The blond smirked with an ever-present smug look on his face, which of course, pissed Rafe off to no return. Without a second breath, you found yourself standing there frozen, simply a bystander in the midst of chaos as it began to ensue as your boyfriend remorselessly swung at Topper. You felt as if your eyes were nearly going to pop out of their sockets as you watched in disbelief at what had unfolded in just a few moments.
"Rafe, stop! It's a joke!" You cried out, but your voice went unheard.
"Dude, that's enough! She said it was a joke." One of your boyfriend's teammates interjected into the matter, grabbing Rafe's shoulders from behind and pulling him off the assaulted boy.
"You-Huh?" Rafe questioned breathlessly as he spun around to look at you, his eyes flickering between you and the person who had pulled him off of Topper.
"It was a prank," you admitted, sighing as your adrenaline started coming down, "for your last game. Topper and I came up with it together just to mess with you."
Rafe stared back at you with an unreadable expression on his face, seeming as though a thousand thoughts were scrambling through his mind in that very moment. His chest rose and fell heavily as he stood there, mouth agape. He shooked his head as he scratched the back of his neck before he turned back around to Topper who has in the middle of trying to pick himself up off of the ground.
"My bad, Top." Rafe mumbled quietly with his hand extended out for his friend to grab, to which he complied and held onto it as he lifted himself up.
Topper sighed, brushing the sand off of his body as he stood upright. "I guess now we know what happens when you fuck with Rafe's girlfriend." He noted.
Rafe chuckled in response as he nudged the blond headed boy, "They'd be dead."
"What are you saying about me?" You inquired as you approached the two boys. Rafe's focus immediately shifted to you, his eyes shooting over in your direction while you came up to him. You stood before him with your hands on your hips, a non-verbal communication that you were scolding him for his actions.
"Nothing baby, just that I'd kill anyone who touches you. That's all." Rafe smirked as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest, kissing the top of your head tenderly.
"It's not like I'd choose any of them over you," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso as you looked up at him yearningly, bliss twinkling in your eyes, "the dick is too good." You whispered, catching him entirely off guard. Rafe's first reaction was his eyes widening at your crude-humored comment, then switching to a deep chuckle as a smirk formed across his face while he looked down at you.
"All yours princess." Rafe attested with certainty, his glossy eyes gazing at you with a look you were all too familiar with. You felt butterflies float in your stomach under his lustful stare, realizing that the night was far from over.
"How about we go prove that on the beach over there?"
Could you write a Rafe x reader fic where reader says she wants to spend more time with Rafe, but he gets upsets and says something mean in the heat of the moment. Reader is upset and stops "bothering" him and initially Rafe doesn't realise it, but he figures out you're ignoring him
Maybe with a fluffy HEA ending, but if you want to keep it angsty I'm also all for it (:
hope you like it! ⭐️ it was a quiet friday night when you finally found the courage to bring it up. things with rafe hadn’t been the same for a while. he was always out with friends or buried in work, his phone practically glued to his hand. you could see him drifting further and further away, and it left you feeling like an afterthought. you missed him, missed the little moments when he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world.
so, you decided to say something—softly, carefully—as the two of you sat on the couch with takeout boxes scattered around you.
“hey…baby,” you started, keeping your voice light. “i was thinking… it’d be nice if we could spend a little more time together, you know? just us.”
rafe barely looked up, shoveling food into his mouth. “what’re you talking about?” he mumbled through a bite. “we’re together now, aren’t we?”
you forced a smile. “yeah, but… i mean like actually spending time together. like doing something fun. or even just… talking.”
he let out an irritated sigh, setting his food down with a clatter. “are you serious right now? i’ve got so much shit to deal with, and you’re really gonna start whining about ‘spending time together’? Jesus, can you just not be so goddamn needy for once?”
the words hit you like a punch. you froze, staring at him, trying to process the fact that he’d actually said that. rafe’s face was already turned away, clearly oblivious to the way his words had cut through you.
you felt your throat tighten, but you managed to swallow back the hurt, forcing yourself not to react. the last thing you wanted was to give him more reason to see you as a burden. so, you nodded, blinking down at your food, even though you suddenly couldn’t eat a bite.
“sorry,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. but rafe didn’t hear, or maybe he just didn’t care enough to ask you to repeat it. he’d already gone back to his phone, acting like the conversation had never even happened.
that night, you made a decision. if rafe wanted space, you’d give him space. you stopped asking him to go out with you, to spend time together, to do any of the little things you used to enjoy. when he came home late, you didn’t wait up. when he sat down on the couch, you found something else to do. if he wanted room, you’d make sure he had more than enough of it.
at first, rafe didn’t seem to notice the change. he thought you were just busy with work or hanging out with friends, maybe that you’d taken his words to heart. it wasn’t until a few days had passed that he started to feel the shift, the strange, nagging quiet in the air whenever you were around.
you were no longer the warm, lively presence you used to be, filling the silence with laughter, stories, and little gestures of affection. instead, you felt distant, almost guarded, your movements careful, like you were tiptoeing around him. you didn’t smile at him the way you used to; you didn’t light up when he came home. you’d become polite, restrained, keeping just enough distance that he felt it even when he didn’t want to.
one night, rafe came home late, expecting to see you in the living room with a book or a show. but the lights were dim, the place eerily silent, and when he checked the bedroom, you were already asleep. he stood there for a moment, feeling an odd pang of emptiness. he brushed it off, but as the days went by, the feeling gnawed at him more and more, leaving him with an ache he couldn’t ignore.
finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. one night, he found you alone in the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea with your gaze far away. he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you, his expression unreadable.
“are you avoiding me or something?” he asked, his tone sharper than he’d intended.
you looked up, a flicker of surprise in your eyes before you masked it with a tight smile. “no, i’m not avoiding you, rafe. i just… didn’t want to bother you.”
that word—bother—hit him hard, dredging up the memory of his own callous words. he felt something twist in his chest as he realized what he’d done, how his careless anger had made you feel so small, like you didn’t even deserve to be there.
“fuck,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “look, i’m sorry, alright? i was a complete asshole, princess. i was stressed, and i took it out on you, and i shouldn’t have done that.”
you shrugged, your face guarded, unreadable. “it’s fine. i get it. you’re busy, and i didn’t want to get in your way.”
“Jesus, stop saying that,” he mumbled, stepping closer, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “you’re not in my way. you’re the only person who… who makes all this shit bearable. i just didn’t see it until you started pulling away.”
for a long moment, you said nothing, just staring at him, weighing his words. finally, he took a tentative step forward, reaching for your hand. when you didn’t pull away, he felt a flicker of hope.
“let me make it up to you,” he whispered, his voice rough. “i’ll cancel my plans this weekend. we’ll do whatever you want, i swear. just… give me another chance.”
your gaze softened, and a small, hesitant smile crept onto your lips. “alright. one chance.”
he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up in a tight embrace, his relief flooding through him. you relaxed into him, and for the first time in days, you felt the warmth return, that aching void in your chest slowly filling up again.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, genuine. “i swear, i’ll never take you for granted again. you mean too fucking much to me.”
you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath you, his arms strong and comforting. and as he held you there, you felt the hurt start to fade, replaced by a quiet, growing hope that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time.
series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
additional chapter cw! non-descriptive mentions of vomit
A swing and a miss, again.
Rafe’s game was all over the place, he hadn’t been able to focus in batting practice all week, and now it was the bottom of the ninth in Academy’s rivalry match against Kildare County. He was down in the count when he asked the ump for a timeout.
He had resisted the urge to look in the stands the whole game, afraid he knew what he would find, or rather, what he wouldn’t.
You usually sat behind the dugout, wearing his old jersey that he’d given you after his record-breaking freshman season, and his number in black eyeliner on either cheek. Sometimes, it would take a few days for it to wash off, and you’d show up to school with the hint of his number still faded on your skin.
No one - not his coaches, not his teammates, certainly not his father - could read him like you could. Sometimes he’d pop his head out of the dugout between innings so you could tell him his swing was a few seconds too early for the pitcher’s fastball, or that he needed to stop chasing the backdoor slider. You were never wrong.
They’d tease him in the dugout, tossing sunflower seeds at him and taunting, “what is she, your hitting coach or your wife?” Then he’d ignore you for a few innings, though he almost never got on base without checking in with you first.
Your absence from this game was glaring, one of those same teammates taunting, “can someone please get Cameron’s hitting coach on the phone for fuck’s sake?” after his third strikeout.
He’d brushed it off, but now the game was on the line, and he realized he’d endure any amount of teasing if it meant looking up and seeing you in the stands.
He stepped out of the batter’s box, took a deep breath, and craned his neck to your usual seat, hands gripping the bat tighter when his fear was confirmed - it was empty.
He struck out, and they lost the game.
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It’s actually about to happen, the moment you’d wished for on every star, every eyelash, every birthday candle since you were six years old. The moment you never thought would actually come. You’ve played this scene in your mind a million times, what your first kiss with Rafe would be like. None of the many versions took place in an alley behind a Florida nightclub, but none of them were real either, so now was not the time to be picky.
Rafe’s thumb was still lingering on your bottom lip, the rest of his long fingers caressing your jaw.
“Can I? Please?”
“Yes.”
He smiled, dimples creasing his cheeks so handsomely, and leaned in. You realized you were holding your breath as you awaited the first brush of his lips against yours.
It never came. The door to the club slammed open, making you both jump. Your already thumping heart flew to your throat as Kelce stumbled out the large metal door.
“Woah, sorry,” he jumped back, smirking at the sight of you and Rafe pulling away from each other quickly.
“What could you possibly need from me right now?” Rafe said, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in warning.
“I came out here to find her,” Kelce pointed at you. “So calm your ass down.”
“What is it, Kelce?” You asked gently, hand on Rafe’s arm to hold him back as he started stepping menacingly toward his friend.
“Something’s wrong with Carter,” Kelce said.
“What?!” Your face flooded with concern, you started toward the club, and Rafe didn’t stop you, knowing the sound of your sister’s name dashed any hope he had of keeping you in this alleyway.
“What happened?” You asked Kelce as you brushed past him back into the crowded club, Rafe following behind the two of you.
“I don’t know, she got into an argument with Top and then she stormed off,” Kelce shouted over the thundering music as he struggled to keep up with you.
You scanned the whole club, but couldn’t find her, just Topper ranting emphatically to Tom in the corner, and Sabrina and Maddie on either side of the bathroom door, trying to talk to someone on the other side.
Kelce and Rafe were lost to the crowd as you beelined toward the bathroom, forcefully pushing angry clubbers out of the way to get there. You didn’t care, you were locked-in on finding your sister.
“Is she in there?” You asked as you approached the bathroom.
“Yeah,” Maddie confirmed, looking worried, and a little queasy. “But she won’t let anyone in.”
“She’s so wasted it’s crazy,” Sabrina added with a hiccuping giggle.
You ignored her lack of concern for your sister and banged loudly on the door.
“Car? It’s me,” you shouted, “you gotta let me in, alright? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
After a moment, and the thought that you’d break this fucking door down if that’s what it took, the handle finally turned. She opened the door just a crack to let you slip through, and closed it back firmly behind you.
Sabrina wasn’t wrong, Carter’s intoxication was written all over her face. Flushed, clammy skin and bloodshot eyes. She threw her arms around you, squeezing tight enough to knock the wind out of you.
“What happened? Are you okay?” You asked nervously.
Before you got an answer, she was on her knees in front of the toilet bowl. You rushed to grab her hair and hold it back, getting it all out of the way with just seconds to spare before she got sick.
Thinking through the day's events, you realized no one had eaten much before you left the house, and you knew this group well enough to know it didn’t take much for them to get hammered. What you didn’t know was that while you were distracted with Rafe, the rest of your group was in the club throwing back drinks and racking up tabs like the world was ending.
Rafe was having a similar realization out on the floor, trying to wrangle everyone to the front door where he had a pair of cabs waiting. He physically dragged Topper away from the bar as he demanded another drink, the bartender shouting that he was cutoff. He led Maddie and Sabrina away from some sketchy looking guys who were inviting them back to their house boat, which they proudly advertised held gallons of their homemade moonshine. He stopped Tom from sucker punching a guy who booed when the DJ played a Drake song. He lost Kelce twice.
Once he had finally corralled everyone into the cars, he convinced the drivers to hold up so he could come back and find you. He stood by the bathroom door until you appeared behind it, jumping at the sight of him standing so close.
“I got cabs waiting,” he yelled over the music, eyeing Carter sprawled out on the dirty bathroom floor behind you.
“I can’t get her up,” you told him defeatedly, eyebrows knit together with worry. “She’s not doing good.”
Rafe brushed past you without a word or a second thought, and leaned down to scoop Carter up with ease, fireman carrying her out of the club like your own personal Superman. You followed closely on his heel, feeling guilty that you were thinking about how strong his shoulders looked and not how concerned you were for your sister.
You opened the door so he could lower her into the first cab, which only had enough seats left for you and her. Once you slid in behind her, leaning her head against Maddie, who was already dozing off with her forehead pressed on the window, Rafe made sure you were settled before closing the door.
He motioned for you to roll down the window, ducking down so he could lean on it.
“Yo Rafe let’s go man!” Topper yelled from the cab behind you before Rafe could speak.
“Give me a fucking second!” He yelled back.
Forearms against the window sill, he leaned in close enough so only you could hear.
“Just, um, don’t stop thinking what you were thinking in the alley.”
Your lips twisted into a smirk, “couldn’t if I tried.”
He gave you a wink before hurrying back to the other cab.
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You didn’t stop thinking about it. You didn’t stop when the cab driver took the wrong turn and made the trip twice as long as it should’ve been. You didn’t stop when Carter asked the driver to pull over every five minutes so she could hurl on the side of the interstate. You didn’t stop when you finally got Carter up to her room, ranting incoherently about her argument with Topper. You didn’t stop as she kneeled in front of the toilet bowl again and you held her hair back, attempting to soothe her with gentle shushes.
You should’ve been focused on your sister and the awful night she was having, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the shape of Rafe’s mouth.
The thing that finally pulled you from your thoughts of him was a sight you hadn’t seen in almost a decade; Carter started to cry.
Carter never cried, she was your rock, the shoulder for you and all her friends to cry on. She didn’t cry when she fell off the monkey bars in third grade and broke her arm, or when she was rejected from her dream school, or even when your parents got divorced. But here she was, on the cold tile of the Airbnb bathroom floor, bawling.
“Hey, hey, woah,” you said, alarm ringing in your mind as you rushed to sit beside her on the cold tile floor. “What’s going on?”
“I’m such a mess,” she gasped between sobs.
“Well, for starters we need to get you a makeup wipe,” you countered.
“No I mean, like, emotionally,” she wiped her tears with the backs of her hands, only for a new round of drops to fall and further streak her mascara down her skin.
Your sister spent her life running from difficult emotions. It was something you tried to gently point out to her many times, but she’d typically push it away with a sarcastic joke or just ignore you altogether.
You started therapy about a month after you got to college, taking the university health center up on its free psych eval offerings for freshmen. You’d shown up to your therapist’s office every Wednesday at 2:30 since then, religious about not missing a session.
You recommended Carter do the same, but she’d just brush you off with a teasing, “nah I don’t need all that, I’m supposed to be the normal one, remember?”
Taking the hint, you stopped bringing it up after a few months. But now, with Carter’s tears pooling on the floor of this Airbnb, you wished more than ever that she’d listened to you.
“Well, that’s okay,” you gently brushed the hair from her shoulder. “It’s okay not to be okay.”
Carter laid her head on your criss-crossed lap and let the tears fall harder. You rubbed her back and continued to reassure her all was going to be okay, waiting until the tears began to slow and her breathing steadied to broach the subject again.
“Do you want to…” you swallowed, preparing for her to brush you off again, “do you want to talk about it?”
She was quiet for a long moment, you sighed in acceptance that she would pick the ignoring you route this time.
Then, in a small, feeble voice, she whispered, “it’s too scary.”
“What is?” You whispered back, hand resting on her arm for comfort, praying she wouldn’t get spooked and would keep talking.
“Loving him,” she confessed.
Your heart nearly burst. You didn’t need to ask who she was talking about.
“Topper, you mean?” you responded.
She nodded slowly, “it was easier when I didn’t love him. I’m supposed to be leaving in a week. I’m supposed to be on to my next big thing, and all I can think about is what the best time to facetime him is if I’m six hours ahead. I should be thinking about me, but all I want is him, and that’s fucking terrifying.”
The thought sent her into another round of sobs, tears soaking the skirt of your dress.
“I know it feels scary, and new,” you tiptoed to your point, “but…have you ever really not loved him?”
She thought over your words, but the alcohol and drama of the evening was starting to pull her into a restless sleep.
“I’m gonna miss you,” she mumbled, half-asleep already. “So much.”
“Let’s just get you into bed, yeah?” You said, pulling her up off the floor. “We can talk tomorrow.”
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In the darkness of Carter’s room, your phone lit up on the nightstand.
You pulled your arm from under her slowly, praying not to wake her up now that she was finally snoozing peacefully, though her deep snores were occasionally interrupted by shaky breaths, the aftershocks of her sobs. You’d gotten both of you changed and into bed with some difficulty, a strategically placed trash can next to her side of the bed just in case. You reached over to check your phone, turning the brightness down so as not to disturb her.
You had a text from a number that wasn’t saved in your phone, starting with the same 252 area code as yours. You didn’t need to ask “who’s this?” because you’d know that seven digit combination on your deathbed. Deleting his contact from your phone had really been more of a cathartic exercise than anything else.
‘She asleep yet?’
‘I think so but it’s been rough, what about Top?’
‘Same, but he’s out like a light now…and snoring like a jet engine.’
You stifled your laugh so Carter wouldn’t hear, keeping your movements slow as you climbed out of her bed and padded towards the door. Wincing at the squeak of the door hinge, you pulled it slowly closed until the handle clicked.
Down the hall, the same click sounded from Topper’s door. Rafe stood with his hand on the doorknob, listening for any signs that his exit woke the sleeper inside.
His eyes flashed up to meet yours, and you shared a knowing, nervous smile. You each walked a few steps towards the other, Rafe immediately picking up on the water pooling in your eyes. You’d held it together up until now for Carter’s sake, wanting to be strong for her like she’d always been for you, but now the heartbreak of seeing her so upset was finally settling in.
“Hey, hey,” Rafe whispered, lengthening his strides to close the gap between you faster. “What’s wrong?”
He ducked to search your face for a second, your small sniffles breaking his heart. When a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, he pulled you in by your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You let your arms circle his waist, not taking the time to worry if this was strange or if you were okay being this vulnerable with him, just reveling in the comforting smell of him and the rise and fall of his sturdy chest under his t-shirt.
A few more tears slipped out, but with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while you breathed him in, your sadness faded slowly into a calm reassurance.
“You good?” He whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arms still wrapped around his torso.
“I just didn’t know she was so sad,” you explained, your lip trembling slightly at the thought of your sister, with all her strength and tenacity, slumped over on the bathroom floor. “I should’ve been paying closer attention. I came on this trip for her and all I’ve been doing is thinking about myself. I’m so selfish.”
That thought caused more tears to roll down your cheeks. Rafe placed a palm on either side of your face, his thumbs reaching out to swipe away the salty drops.
“You,” he said firmly, his voice just above a whisper now, more concerned with making sure you heard what he had to say than making sure not to wake anyone, “are not selfish.”
Once your tears were dried, he lifted your face towards him so he could look in your eyes. You ever-so-slightly nuzzled your head into his palm, wondering if he could even feel the gentle way you were surrendering to him. His soft grin told you he could.
“He’s a mess, too,” he nodded back toward Topper’s door.
“I love them, but those two are exhausting,” you chuckled softly.
Even as the conversation lightened up, his hands didn’t fall from your face, and your arms stayed firmly in place around him, just holding each other as you whisper-laughed about the antics of the whole group this evening.
“Sabrina said you had to chase Kelce half a block,” you giggled, and he’d never felt so relieved to see someone’s tears give way to laughter. “Your dad instincts really kicked in there, huh?”
“I don’t know,” he smiled, his eyes creasing with the upward tick of his lips, “the way you basically parted the crowd to get to Carter? Topper might have competition for house mother. Maybe we’re the real mom and dad.”
You snorted at that.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you blinked back, “just funny that you’re already talking about being parents when you haven’t even kissed me yet.”
Rafe nodded, tongue darting out to lick his lips, feigning seriousness, “you’re so right. We should probably do something about that.”
“You should probably do something about that,” you taunted.
His persona cracked and he laughed, eyebrows raised.
“Oh yeah? Should I?”
You nodded, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling at him as he leaned forward, eager to recapture the moment that had been so unceremoniously stolen from you a few hours ago.
Just before your lips touched, a vile retching noise came echoing down the hall from Topper’s room. He was vomiting again, and the romance was zapped from the air.
Your head fell back in frustration, groaning.
“You wanna go for a drive?” Rafe offered, hand sliding down your arm to find yours, fingers lacing together like they belonged there.
You nodded quickly, a smile replacing your annoyed frown. He led you down the stairs fast and you padded behind excitedly, giggling at his speed and urgency.
“Shit,” he paused before reaching into the bowl on the kitchen counter where everyone was keeping their keys. “I forgot Sabrina blocked me in.”
“We’ll take Carter’s jeep,” you offered, fishing around the bowl until you found her fuzzy pink keychain. “She parked on the road.”
“She won’t mind?” He asked.
“I have a feeling she’s gonna be out for a long time,” you pointed out. “I’m driving though.”
“Just like old times,” he grinned, your heart doing cartwheels at the memory.
Fingers intertwined, you let him pull you away from the house, and the risk of any more interruptions.
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The sky glowed with that pre-sunrise blue fog, turning the world around you into a collection of navy silhouettes. The only shape you cared about seeing was the faded profile of the man in the passenger seat next to you.
Though the air still held the chilly nip of dawn, it was warm enough to roll the windows down, which was always your preference. Your hair whipped around you in a frenzy of wind. You could feel his eyes on you as you drove, but you didn’t look back, suddenly filled with nerves, butterflies crowding your stomach and doubt flooding your mind. You just kept driving, suddenly terrified of what would happen when you stopped.
After a few minutes of unreturned eye contact, Rafe finally tore his gaze away from you, poking around Carter’s car to have something to do with his hands. He opened the glove box, and the middle console, fidgeting with every little button and knick-knack he could find.
You smirked at his restlessness and kept driving straight, not entirely sure where you were going. Rafe opened the sun visor above him, gasping at what he found.
“No fucking way,” he laughed with a disbelieving shake of his head, “Carter has CDs? Still?”
He pulled the sleeve of CDs from the visor’s clip, inspecting them closer.
“Wait,” a slow smile bloomed on his face as he observed knowingly, “these are yours.”
“How’d you know?”
“Because they’re the same ones you had in your car in high school.”
“Didn’t think you’d remember,” you scoffed.
“I remember everything about you,” he said, like it was the most obvious and casual admission anyone had ever made.
Even with the cool morning air blowing in through the window, the car suddenly felt too hot. Too hot and too small. Your chest and neck bloomed with a nervous blush as your breath quickened. How were you supposed to respond to that?
Rafe kept sorting through the CDs, nodding at each one in recognition, leaning back in his seat as if he hadn’t just dropped an atomic bomb into the conversation.
You needed to fill the silence before he noticed the tornado of anxious thoughts tearing through your mind.
“You gonna pick one?” You urged him, eager for the sound of familiar music to erase his words that hung in the air between you.
He finally made it to the back of the plastic sleeve, to a familiar silver disc decorated in sharpie in your handwriting; your favorite homemade mix that you’d played every single day from ages fifteen to seventeen.
You’d titled it “car mix,” though a more accurate title would be “Rafe’s mix.”
Sometime during your freshman year, you’d spent a whole day sitting in front of your computer, meticulously sorting through songs that made you think of him, or that you wanted him to listen to, hoping he would hear them and finally understand you somehow. It was a love letter without words, and he’d heard it a thousand times, but you doubted he ever really listened. Par for the course.
“I think that one got scratched,” you tried to discourage him from playing it, the flashback to your desperate, lovestruck younger self a little too much to handle at five a.m.
Rafe turned it over in his hands, inspecting it for those so-called scratches, finding nothing satisfying.
“Looks good to me,” he disagreed, popping it into the CD player and beaming bright as the first song began to play through the speakers.
“Oh my god,” he laughed, “it’s like we’re in a time machine.”
You agreed, the familiar opening notes of the first song you’d picked for him sent you flying back in time, to a girl you thought was long dead, and the boy next to her, whom she’d loved to her grave.
Chills shot up your spine, a warning shot before the tears that were beginning to gather on your lash line. You pulled the car quickly to the side of the road, sand flying up with the screech of the tires. You realized then that you’d somehow found your way to the public beach, the parking lot empty and sandy shore free of any sunbathers or surfers.
Rafe turned the music down, looking at you quizzically as your foot slammed on the break. Before he could ask what was going on, you were pulling the keys from the ignition and throwing off your seatbelt, hopping down from the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind you. He scrambled for his door handle as you started walking quickly toward the water and away from him.
The salty air was so thick you could taste droplets of seawater on your lips before you were even halfway to the shore. The waves crashed violently, remnants of the week’s storms throwing the water back and forth until it was foaming and angry.
Angry. You were as angry as the sea, sand kicking up with each stomp of your foot as you hurried as far away from him as you could possibly get. His long legs were already catching him up to you as he chased you down, calling your name.
Despite your efforts to outpace him, you could feel him gaining on you, nearly at your heel by the time your toes touched the water’s edge. Flight would not be an option, it was time for a fight.
“You remember everything?” You whipped toward him, nearly knocking him over with the force of the glare that met him. You stalked toward him, catching the way he backed up just a step before squaring his shoulders and planting himself until you were nearly chest to chest. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Rafe?”
“What are you talking about?” He asked desperately, scrambling from the whiplash of your sudden outburst. “What the hell just happened?”
He was genuinely so clueless as to the reason for your sudden shift in mood, reeling like he was mentally still back in the car listening to music, eyes scanning your face as he tried desperately to catch up. You almost took pity on him. Almost.
“I can’t,” a lump lodged itself into your throat and you bit your lip for a second to hold it down, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“What? Can’t do what?” He begged for clarity.
You just shook your head, a final plea to your own tears not to fall in front of him, but they betrayed you, one single drop slipping down your face. You turned from him quickly as a final ditch ending to hide them from him, and stepped away further down the beach.
“No, no wait, please wait,” with two easy strides he was close enough to touch you, wrapping his hand around your wrist to turn you toward him. “Don’t do this to me. You said you’d remember the alleyway, we were so close. We are so close.”
“Are we?” You challenged him. “If we’re so close then why can’t I even ride in the car with you without feeling like I can’t breathe? You don’t get it, Rafe. You don’t understand that every memory feels like a fucking sucker punch.”
“Then let’s not focus on the memories,” he suggested, “I just want to be with you right now.”
“Why now?” You burst out, another tear breaking through the barricade and sliding traitorously down your cheek. “Why not then?”
They were the two questions that plagued you since you saw him on the beach. You felt you knew the reason. You looked different, he was attracted to this version of you. Even though it would hurt like a bitch, you really wished he would just admit it, that he only wanted you because of how you look now, so you could finally just hate him and move on.
Instead, he continued his time honored tradition of giving you the exact opposite of what you wanted.
He looked straight at you, no waiver in his voice as he said, “because I wasn’t ready for you. I wasn’t good enough.”
It was the perfect answer, and your worst case scenario. Heartfelt, honest, a hot knife to the wall of ice you’d worked so hard to build between you and him. As he’d done so many times before, Rafe melted you.
Soft eyes, you tilted your head as you studied him, “and you are now?”
“No,” his laugh surprised you, scoffing as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. “But I’m smarter. Smart enough to know that I’ll never be good enough for you. Who could be?”
The last chips of ice melted away entirely at those words, the image of his sweet smile when he said them etched itself on your heart in a way you knew was completely permanent.
As so often happened when you were at a crossroads with your own mind, you heard Carter’s voice ringing through your thoughts. Though this time, it wasn’t a quippy comment about Rafe, or a catchy mantra to encourage you to hold your head high. Instead, you heard her weak, cracked voice as she cried on the bathroom floor just hours ago; “it’s too scary.”
Suddenly, you knew exactly what she meant.
Your every instinct was to pull away from him, hide away the vulnerable thought to avoid any risk of him making it worse. But as he looked down at you, the first traces of sunrise streaking across the horizon, casting a gold-pink glow on his cheekbones, something in the back of your mind was saying you could trust him.
“I’m scared,” you all but whispered.
Rafe lifted his hand slowly, as if you were an elusive, wild thing that would run off at any sudden movement. When you didn’t flee, he took the chance to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, voice dropping low as he said, “I know.”
“How am I supposed to know you won’t hurt me?”
Your deepest fears continued to flow out of you, into his waiting hands, praying he wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers.
“I don’t think you will until you give me a chance to prove it to you,” he countered.
You knew he was right. Holding him at arm’s length would never get you the answers you needed from him. You’d never know if he had really changed unless you got close enough to relearn him, and you’d never know how he really felt about you unless you gave him a second chance to show you. You aren’t generally opposed to second chances, more likely to give them out then, say, your sister is.
“You know what Carter would say?” You chuckled darkly, unable to detangle your sister’s voice from your own conscience even if you wanted to. “That you don’t deserve any more chances.”
“That might be the first thing I’ve ever agreed with her on,” Rafe was quick to acknowledge. “But you know what else she’d say?”
“What?” You asked with raised brows, skeptical that he had any clue what Carter would actually say, and knowing she would hate that he was claiming to.
“That you deserve a chance.”
Funny thing is, that’s exactly what Carter would say. She didn’t really know how badly you wanted him, that you were starting to suspect you might just be happiest when you’re with him, but she always encouraged you to do what made you happy, even when it was something she didn’t understand.
“And if I’m what you want then I just happen to be the luckiest idiot in the world, because I want you too. You have no idea how badly.”
The tide was coming in, the very edge of each wave nipping at your toes before being pulled back out to sea. Rafe’s confession made you feel so unsteady, you wondered if you’d crumble and get pulled out right with it. Your mind reached for anything to ground you before you drowned in him completely.
“Why?” You asked him, needing his answer like a port in the storm.
“Why?” He repeated, either confused by the question or by the need for it. Somehow, both possibilities annoyed you.
“Yeah, tell me why you want me,” you placed your hands on your hips, shoulders squaring up with him in challenge. “And you’re not allowed to use the word beautiful, or cute, or call me baby.”
“This kinda feels like a test,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah? Maybe it is,” you huffed. “And this time there’s no cheating, no open book. And no me to slip you the answers.”
“Can I get a few minutes to review my notes?” His cheeky pout was so cute you worried you were about to fold right there on the spot.
“Fine,” you allowed, “you get one minute to think about it.”
He feigned worry, faked stress, biting his thumbnail and looking out over the waves as if he actually had to think it over.
In reality, he was more prepared for this test than any he’d ever taken in his life. He’d spent years thinking about this moment, about what he would say, what he could say that would possibly be enough.
While you waited for him to speak, you mirrored his stance, facing the water with your hands wrapped around you.
Rafe turned his head slightly to take in your profile, the sliver of daylight creeping over the horizon making your features glow so romantically.
You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried to focus on the count in your head, dutifully keeping track of the seconds until his allotted prep time was up.
Evidently, he didn’t need a timer, his voice broke the silence before you had even gotten to forty-five.
“Y’know, I got a walk-on tryout invite for baseball at Chapel Hill,” he started.
You resisted the urge to look at him or respond, despite your mind racing to connect the dots between that statement and the challenge of explaining why he wants you.
“I was…so shitty,” he laughed at the memory, “I mean just awful. Striking out in the cage, my fielding was all over the place, I dropped a fucking pop fly. I’ve made that play a thousand times and the one time it counted, I dropped it. I mean, you wouldn’t have even recognized me out there. And the best part was that my dad came to watch. He bribed an old alum buddy to get him into closed tryouts just to watch me absolutely shit the bed.”
His smile faded.
“It was the worst day of my life. The coaches didn’t even call me themselves, they sent me an automated email to tell me I didn’t make the team. They were nice enough to send me some film from the tryout, though. I must’ve watched it a hundred times. I was spiraling like a bitch, just full on meltdown. I watched that film over and over, like some kind of torture. When I watched it, I just kept wondering how that guy could’ve ever been considered good.”
He turned to you, looking down at you intensely, hesitating for the first time since he started talking.
“I know I fumbled you. I knew it from the second it happened. And,” he swallowed hard, struggling with the next part. “I knew you were in love with me.”
Your head snapped to the side to look at him, face beat red.
“I was an idiot, but I wasn’t blind,” he continued before you could interject a defense. “The problem was never that I didn’t know, it was that I didn’t know why. But the way you looked at me, I don’t know, it made me feel like I must be like, somewhat good. Why else would you care about me if I wasn’t? But then when I was fucking rotting in my dorm watching that film over and over it kind of hit me…you didn’t love me because I was good. I was good because you loved me.”
Breath escaped you, eyes glossy as you let those beautiful words sink in, but he wasn’t done.
“I thought it was just a lucky break that I got you for four years. And of course I fucked it up, I fuck everything up. After those tryouts, I had nothing, no one. I failed my classes, dropped out of rushing a frat, I stopped talking to everyone. Shit, even my sisters were calling me to see if I was okay. I got it together eventually, kind of, but it’s never been the same. I have never been the same…since you. But then I saw you on the beach the other day, and it kind of hit me. The biggest loss wasn’t your love for me, or my fielding skills, or the bullshit frat parties. It was my best friend. You were my best friend. You were - you are - my favorite fucking person. When all that shit happened, you were the only one I wanted to talk to, and I couldn’t, I didn’t deserve to. But god, I’d give anything, anything, to have my best friend back. You don’t have to…be with me. I understand if you don’t want to. But please, can we just be friends again?”
You blinked up at him as he finished his monologue, all his words swirling around your head like cartoon birds, dizzying and all consuming. You wished it really was a test, cause then you’d have a printed copy that you could study and analyze and go over and over with different colored highlighters.
But it wasn’t a test. It wasn’t a metaphor. It was just you and the boy you love standing on the beach at sunrise, looking at each other like you were the only two people on earth.
“No.” You said, shaking your head.
His eyes blinked rapidly, trying and failing to hold back his emotion. Before he could spiral any further, you added,
“I don’t wanna be friends.”
His eyes flicked over yours for just a second, double checking, asking you silently if that meant what he thought it did. You gave him the slightest nod, as if to finally say “yes, Rafe.”
Rafe’s hands landed firm but gentle on either side of your face, pulling you towards him. Your lips met in a symphony of passion and affection and need and a mutual sigh of fucking finally.
He tasted better than you’d ever imagined, a sweet rush to your head as his tongue parted your lips slightly. He pulled back just an inch to let his uncontrollable smile break against yours, laughing into each other’s mouths in disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy. Once he was satisfied that you understood how happy he was, he pulled you back in.
If the first kiss was a spark, the second kiss was a goddamn explosion. He kissed you like the tide kisses the shore in a hurricane, his tsunami waves crashing into you over and over again. His tongue took over, claiming you, taking up space in your mouth like he never planned to leave. His hands drifted, one to the back of your head, laced in your hair, the other on the small of your back, holding you against himself. Your hands snaked up his arms, savoring every inch of him until you reached his shoulders. You linked your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you as you stood on your tiptoes to meet him, finding middle ground for the first time in your lives.
After a while, your lips parted, both of you desperate for breath, the lack of oxygen dizzying.
“So,” he smiled, hand still cradling your head and his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip, “did I pass?”
“Hmm,” you pretended to consider it, “A minus.”
“What? You must be grading on a curve,” he shook his head.
“Maybe you could do some extra credit,” you flirted.
With a sly smile at that, he returned his lips to yours, and you forgot a time when you didn’t know what it was like to kiss him.
Time passed, the sun rose, night bloomed into morning, and Rafe kissed you for what could’ve been a lifetime. With each minute that passed with his lips on yours, you felt all the bad memories fade to gray, the past washing away with the crash of the waves, leaving only him.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄
Carter’s Jeep sat parked on the side of the road, the interior dark in the early morning light, except for the phones buzzing uncontrollably on each seat.
On the passenger's side, Rafe’s phone blew up with texts from Topper. The most recent reading ‘dude, we’ve got trouble at the house…’
On the driver’s seat, yours lit up with twelve missed calls and a single text from Carter,
‘Don’t come back.’
(to be continued)
a/n: sorry for any taglist errors, to be the first to know when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3
Don't Call Me Kid - Rafe Cameron x Reader series masterlist
series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
table of contents:
Prologue (3k words)
Chapter 1 (3.9k words)
Chapter 2 (4.9k words)
Chapter 3 (5.7k words)
Chapter 4 (6.6k words)
Chapter 5: part one (4.8k words) & part two (3.8k words)
Chapter 6: part one (5.3k words) & part two (4.1k words)
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annaxmalina
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dededos
vaporwave
