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[mackenzielovee]

letters to you: ten - rafe cameron

summary: drunk words truly are sober thoughts

warnings: heavy drinking, swearing, kissing

wc: 6k

a/n: ahhhhh it's here! please enjoy and as always let me know what you think!!

series masterlist

     Y/N, 

I was right. Coming home to my empty apartment after dropping you off fucking sucked. I keep looking over at my coffee pot expecting to see a beautiful girl in pajamas and a crease in her brow trying to get it to stop making noise. 

I’m sitting on my balcony right now, I’m sure you expected as much. Everything around here feels different now that you’ve been in my space. I keep looking at the empty chair across from me and wishing it was occupied. I sit down on my couch and I’m aware of how alone I am. I was never worried about this before you. In fact, I liked being on my own. It meant I wouldn’t get hurt. I couldn’t hurt anyone. Now, I’d give up just about anything to have you sitting across from me while I smoke, too shy to tell me what you’re thinking but smiling every single time I look up at you. 

I’m trying not to go to bed because I know I’m going to get the same feeling when I lay down in my empty bed. Maybe having you sleep in there with me was a bad idea, because I know it will be the only thing I think about every night until you’re next to me again. I wouldn’t change it for anything, though. 

Sorry this is so sentimental. I didn’t mean for it to be. I just keep replaying the whole weekend in my head. Even the moments I looked less than good. I’m sorry my baggage came out to play a couple of times. You don’t deserve to deal with that. I’ll be better. 

Have a good week at school. Study and focus. Write to me when you can. You’re beautiful.

Yours, 

Rafe 

     You reread his letter for the millionth time while you sit in Interpersonal Communications, not having taken a singular note. Normally, you’re engaged and writing down every last word, determined to ace every single exam. Today, you don’t have it in you. 

As much as you try, you can’t stop thinking about Rafe. And Ava. And what could’ve possibly happened, how he could be involved. You constantly go back and forth: maybe he was there? Maybe he wasn’t involved at all? Maybe he was dating her? Maybe he never knew her? Maybe Kelce was dating her? 

You sigh and fold his letter back up, tucking it into Pride and Prejudice and doing your best to engage with what’s being discussed. You know none of your questions will get answered any time soon, if at all, so logically, there’s no point in dwelling on any of it. Focusing on the past will not change how you feel for Rafe now, so moving forward seems like your best and only option. If only your brain would agree. 

     Class ends before you know it, having spaced out once again. You collect your things in your backpack and make your way out of the building with all of the other students, keeping your eyes trained straight ahead and focusing on getting home as quickly as possible. 

The walk to your parking lot is about ten minutes, guiding you past the student center as you go. Unfortunately for you, the student center seems to be Ethan and Christian’s favorite spot to meet up after their ten o’clock class. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Ethan calls from a distance, giving you a polite wave. 

You return his wave with your own, sending a mediocre smile to both boys as you keep moving. You’re not in the mood to be friendly, and you’re sure Ethan would understand that. Christian, however, doesn’t seem to get the hint. You watch as he pats Ethan on the chest and mutters a ‘gotta run, dude’ to him before he’s sprinting over in your direction. 

You curse under your breath, a rarity for you. You consider dialing Emma just to be busy when he gets to you, but you realize she’s in a class, probably napping under her sunglasses, and can’t pick up. Before you can come up with another option, Chistian’s beside you. 

“Hey,” he says, sucking in a breath, “You missed another good weekend at the bar.”

You give him a smile, because despite your mood, being rude is impossible for you. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m glad you guys had a good time, though,” you say.

You keep your focus on your steps, letting Christian keep up with your pace. He tucks his hands into his pockets as he strolls beside you, and you’re not quite sure what else he wants you to say. 

“Emma said you went home for the weekend,” he continues. 

“Yeah, I did,” you nod, “It was a nice weekend.”

“Good,” he replies, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that guy that was in your apartment two weekends ago. Is he, like – are you–”

“I’m with him,” you quickly say, “He’s why I went home. He lives there.”

“Oh, shit,” Christian raises his eyebrows, more in shock than anything else, “I had no idea. Emma didn’t say you had a boyfriend.”

You nod quickly, “That’s because I didn’t. Now, I do. It’s new.”

“Oh,” Christian says again, “That’s good, then.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. 

He continues walking with you, and you’re not sure if you’ve done enough to shut this down. Whatever he’s trying to do, you really want no part of it. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, then. I was just hoping you’d go out with us on Friday.”

You can see the parking lot now, which is when you stop, turn, and smile at him. As nice as he’s being, you just want to go home. 

“I’ll think about it.”

He beams, “Cool. I’ll see you sometime soon.”

You nod and give him another pained smile, watching as he waves and then turns around to go find Ethan again. You let out a long sigh, then turn and make your way to your car, no intention of following through with thinking about going out this weekend. 

     Rafe, 

I’m almost through with Pride and Prejudice. Although I’m not inclined to admit it, your annotations really have me thinking. I can see how you perceived the story this way, even if I had to embrace my cynical side to understand it. I think you should read it again now and see if your opinion has changed at all. 

I love your sentimental letters. Don’t be sorry about sending them. I’ve read the last one an unhealthy amount of times. Do you reread my letters, too? 

I wish I was there with you. I hate to hear that you’re lonely and feeling it now. It’s Wednesday as I write this, and I’ve been studying all day every day since Monday. I really want to see you. Please tell me you’ll come. I’ll pay for your ferry ticket. I don’t like being separated from you. A part of me worries that that’s unhealthy, but if anything’s unhealthy, it’s the way I feel when I’m not with you. See? I can be sentimental, too. 

Consider coming here, please. If you decide not to, that’s okay. Just think about it. That’s all I ask. You can stay with me, I’m not letting you pay for a motel again. 

Don’t apologize for your past. Everyone has one. I admire who you’ve become because of it. It helped shape you into who you are, and I think he’s pretty great. You don’t need to feel guilty for anything. 

Hope to see you soon. Miss you. 

Yours, 

Y/N

Your letter goes out Wednesday afternoon, and you spend the remainder of the evening pouring over your study materials. Emma stops you at one point to force you to have dinner, which you eat while cramming information into your brain. 

“You really want to see Rafe Cameron,” she observes. 

You take another bite of the pasta Emma made – a staple in your home. Nodding as you chew, she laughs at you. 

“I feel guilty,” you confess, “Seeing him will make it better, I think.”

“Y/N, you don’t need to feel guilty–”

“Regardless of whether I should or not, I do.”

She nods slowly, taking her own bite of her meal as she stands in the kitchen, watching you eat and study. 

“I’m sure he’ll come,” she says after a minute, “He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who says no to you.”

     On Thursday evening, you’re studying at the desk in your bedroom, resisting the urge to open up a new tab on your laptop and search her name again. With the lack of self control you seem to possess, you’re staring at the picture of her at the top of the news article before you know it. 

Your heart feels heavy in your chest as you look at her; so happy and beautiful, taken from the world in such a cruel way. Your phone rings beside you, and when you see his name, you click out of the article and close it completely, as if he’d be able to tell. With a deep breath and a smile, you answer.

“Hi,” you greet. 

“Hi, honey,” he practically cheers, “Guess what I did today?”

You smile before you can help it, “What?”

“I bought my ferry ticket.”

Your eyes flutter closed, grateful that tomorrow around this time, he’ll be here with you. You’ll be able to feel him and kiss him and let him comfort you in ways he doesn’t even know he is. For a split second, you feel selfish. Selfish for needing him to comfort you, when he’s the one who’s fighting through these emotions. Selfish for making him come out here because you miss him too much. Selfish for not confessing what you know. 

“I’ll pay for it,” you blurt, “I said I would, and I will. Assuming you got my letter. I guess you did, because–”

“Y/N, easy,” he chuckles, “What’s with the rambling? Are you all right?”

You suck in a deep breath, “Yes. Yeah, I’m fine. Just excited. How much was your ticket? I’ll get cash tomorrow.”

“You’re not paying for shit,” he says, “You’re not forcing me to come. I want to.”

“But I–”

“But, nothing,” he stops you, “Are you sure you’ll be okay with your exam? I’m leaving early Sunday morning so you have the day to study.”

You smile, because of course he is. Of course he’d thought it all the way through before making the decision. This version of Rafe Cameron doesn’t seem to be impulsive in any sense of the word. 

“I’ll be okay,” you confirm, “Just want to see you.”

He gives you a light chuckle, one that communicates how much hearing those words resonates with him. 

“Me too.”

The call goes quiet, but it’s comfortable. You can hear him breathing, finding comfort in the rhythm he holds. 

Neither of you seems ready to let the other go; the promise of twenty-four hours seemingly too long to wait before you hear his voice again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. 

You bite down on your bottom lip and look around the screen of your laptop, your search history haunting you. 

“I’m fine,” you say weakly, “Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Please do.”

“Okay,” you smile, “I’ll be there. Text me the info, yeah?”

“I will, honey. Can’t wait,” he replies, his smile audible, “Get back to your studying.”

“All right,” you sigh, “See you soon.”

     “You have got to remain calm,” Emma lectures you, “One look at you and Rafe Cameron is going to know something’s up.”

You groan and pick up your mug of to-go coffee made by Emma, telling you she didn’t want you to get tired on your drive to pick up Rafe. When you told her you weren’t sure you could handle this, that you’ve had jitters ever since you woke up this morning, she’s been telling you exactly what to do ever since. 

“I just want to see him,” you say, stepping toward the door, “I don’t want any of the other stuff.”

“Everyone comes with stuff, Y/N. You’re going to be fine. Just don’t ramble the way you do. Keep your head straight and everything will be okay.”

You nod and pull open your apartment door, blowing her a kiss and holding up your travel mug as a silent thank you.

“Be back soon,” you call. 

“Good luck!” she yells back, 

     Where you’d normally turn music on for a car ride, today, you opt for silence. The silence is occasionally met with you speaking softly to yourself, versions of ‘you’ve got this’ and ‘just stay calm’ breaking the quiet stream. 

The anticipation of seeing him combined with the anxiety of not being totally sure of yourself makes you feel loopy as you wait for Rafe to be one of the individuals coming in from the dock. You check the time on your phone and continue searching, feeling every nerve in your body relax the second you see his familiar, piercing blue eyes. He grins when he sees you, and as if the guilt and the nervousness could guide you physically, you’re rushing to him. He drops his duffle bag on the ground about half a second before you wrap yourself around him, inhaling his scent and letting out a long sigh of relief. 

“Wow,” he murmurs, chuckling to himself, “Quite the greeting. Are you okay?”

You nod, squeezing tighter, “I am now.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to the top of your head, resigning to letting you carry out what you need to do. After a minute, you pull back and look up at him, eyeing his lips and tipping your head up just right so he’ll know what you’re after. With a smirk, he leans down and grabs ahold of your chin, pressing a painfully slow and passionate kiss to your lips.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, “How are you, honey?”

You smile, your lips feeling bruised from his kiss yet already demanding more from him. 

“Missed you,” you reply weakly, “It’s been a tough week.”

Rafe frowns and allows his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing the skin underneath your eye as he observes the puffiness there. Your lack of sleep is physically evident to him, making his frown deepen. 

“I’m sorry. You could’ve called me more to vent. You always can, you know that?”

You nod and lean into his hand, “I know, Rafe.”

But how can I when it’s about you? When it’s your secret haunting my dreams and keeping me up at night? When it’s you and your pain that has me pushing meals away and denying to discuss my feelings? 

Your thoughts run so wild that you forget for a moment that he’s watching you, taking in every facial expression, every shift of your eyes, every calming breath you try to take. 

“We need to get you out of your head,” he says, “You’re thinking too much. Always are.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, but it comes out uneasy. 

His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you nod, “I’m fine. Just nerves from being so excited.”

He hesitantly nods and gives you one last kiss, almost as if trying to relax you, then picks up his duffle bag in one hand and yours in his other. 

“I missed you, too, for the record,” he says, tugging you toward the parking lot, “A lot.”

You smile and let his words relax your nerves. With a squeeze of his hand, you let him guide you to your car, where he dumps his bag in the backseat and climbs into the passenger side. You suck in a deep breath and follow him into the car, getting settled in your seat before you move to turn the car on. 

Rafe reaches over and swipes the keys from your hand before you can stick them into the ignition, a wide smirk on his face. 

“What are you–”

“I know once we get back to your apartment, Emma’s going to be firing off a million questions. I’d like to squeeze in a few kisses before that happens.”

You wince, because you’re not so sure that will happen based on what Emma knows, and the fact that Rafe is so intuitive already scares you. The idea that you’ll get through this weekend without him noticing anything off between the two of you suddenly seems much more far-fetched than you thought it might be. 

“Okay,” you say weakly. 

Instead of leaning in, Rafe’s shoulders fall and he relaxes into his seat. You perk up, praying silently that you didn’t do anything to push him too far. 

“All right, out with it. Why are you being weird?” he asks. 

You frown and attempt to look offended, “I’m not being weird.”

“Yes, you are,” he scoffs, “Something’s off with you. What is it?”

“Nothing–”

“Y/N–”

“Rafe.”

“It’s that exam, isn’t it?” he groans, “I knew I should’ve left you alone this weekend. You need to–”

“It’s not the exam!” you defend, too scared that he’ll leave if he thinks that’s what it is. 

“Then, what?”

You groan and throw your head back, feeling the pressure to come up with an answer quickly. The first thing that pops into your head is suddenly leaving your lips before you can think twice about it. 

“Christian asked me to go out with them tonight,” you say, “I didn't know how you’d feel about it.”

You suck in a deep breath and convince yourself that that sounds realistic enough to be something that would bother you, even though it doesn’t. You haven’t had one intention of following through with that, but knowing Rafe’s feelings toward Christian makes it even more believable. 

Rafe nods his head slowly, processing the information. You shrink down in your seat, the silence only growing louder to you as you sit and wait for a response. After a minute or so, he reaches over and grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a comforting kiss to your palm.

“We’ll go,” he says against your skin, “We’ll go and have a great time.”

Your jaw drops slightly at the response, no part of you even wanting to go out tonight. Then, you consider the fact that the alternative is sitting at home and not thinking about what you know every time you look at him. Judging by how well that’s going so far, you consider that maybe getting a few drinks in might help you relax and enjoy Rafe. 

“Are you sure?” you question him. 

He nods and gives you a smile, “Yes, honey. You deserve to blow off some steam from your tough week. It will be fun.”

You’re not so sure about that, but you nod anyway. He presses one more kiss to your palm, then drops both of your tangled hands into his lap.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “That I made a big deal out of it.”

Rafe shakes his head, “You can talk to me about anything, anytime. I promise.”

“Thank you, Rafe,” you reply. 

He grins, “So, how are we looking on those kisses?”

You smile, your heart melting to nothing in your chest as you think about how amazing he is. He’s done so much, you know, to convince you that he’s a good man. That he’s not the guy you heard about in high school. That he’s deserving of someone like you. Which makes you feel that much more guilty about all of it. You know the best thing to do is confess it to him and have a heart-to-heart. The fear that he’ll be hurt or betrayed, or mark you as untrustworthy is just too strong. 

As if to silence your mind, you lean your head closer to him and angle it just right, letting your eyes close and his taste take over all of your senses. The second his lips brush yours, every doubt slips away. It’s just him, the man you have fallen head over heels for, dying to kiss you in your car before you spend the weekend together. 

He lets you assume control of the kiss the way you always do, cupping your cheek with one of his hands and letting the other splay across your rib cage, warming your skin through your shirt. You kiss him until your body craves to climb over the console and sit in his lap, which is when you pull back. He grins when he sees you, pupils blown and lips bruised. 

Your heart swells in your chest as you take in the blue of his eyes, the feeling you get every time you see him overwhelming every one of your senses.

“I–” you start, then bite down on your bottom lip before you can confess it, “I’m really happy you’re here, Rafe.”

He smiles then, and you swear that he knows what you were going to say. His eyes soften and he licks his lips, nodding slightly as if to coax you into the understanding that he feels the same. You suck in a deep breath and take his hand, knowing you’re still not going to be able to reveal how intimate your feelings for him are.

“Me too, beautiful,” he whispers, squeezing your hand, “C’mon. I want some time with you before we go out.”

He holds up your keys and presses one last kiss to your palm before he releases you and hands them over, making himself comfortable in his seat. You start up the car and take another deep breath, praying that the last five minutes will reflect how the rest of the weekend will go. 

     “I’m warning you,” Rafe announces as you reach your front door, “I’m going to snoop through your bookshelf the same way you did mine. I finished The Storyteller.” 

“Finally,” you tease, pulling the door open, “You can take whatever you want.”

He presses a kiss to your temple as a thank you, then follows you inside. Emma and Ethan are sitting on the couch in the living room, Emma’s head in Ethan’s lap as they watch Friends. 

“Rafe Cameron,” she greets him with a wave, not bothering to stand up, “Glad you could make it. She’s been studying like a crazy person.”

“So I hear,” Rafe laughs, “Good to see you.”

“You too,” she sits up and hikes her thumb in Ethan’s direction, “You remember Ethan.”

With a smile, being the polite boy he is, Ethan stands from the couch and holds his hand out to Rafe, who shakes it.

“How you doin’, man?” Ethan asks. 

“Better now,” Rafe replies, pulling his hand back from Ethan and wrapping it around your waist. 

“For sure. I’m glad Y/N will have someone here tonight,” Ethan says. 

“Actually, I think we’re joining you,” Rafe informs him, patting your hip.

Emma’s eyes widen, “You are?”

You nod and widen your eyes back, trying your best to communicate with her silently. She glances between you and Rafe twice, then nods slowly. 

“We are,” you confirm.

“That’s great,” Emma replies, still eyeing you, “Chris is coming, too. I think he’s bringing Caroline.”

You groan internally, but keep your thoughts to yourself. With a smile plastered across your face, you nod, but inch toward your bedroom. Rafe moves with you, forced to based on his hand still resting on your hip. 

“Okay,” you say, “We’ll be out later.”

“Can’t wait, babe. Glad you’re here, Rafe Cameron.”

Rafe laughs, “Thanks, Emma.”

You drag Rafe into your bedroom and close the door once he gets inside, sucking in air and sighing once you two are alone. He chuckles and wraps you up in his arms, letting you groan and grumble into his chest. 

“Is she ever going to stop calling me by my full name?” he asks quietly, his voice playful.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

He laughs, guiding you back and sitting down on your bed. Without his guidance, you crawl into his lap and nuzzle your head into his neck, feeling his hands support your back and hold you against him. 

“Honey,” he says quietly, “I’m a little worried about you.”

“Why?”

He sighs, “You look tired. And you’ve been clinging to me since I got off the ferry. Not that I’m complaining. I just want to make sure it’s only because the week has been tough for you.”

You swallow and close your eyes, “It is. I’m sorry.”

He chuckles, “Don’t be. I’ll hold onto you for as long as you need.”

“Was your week difficult?” you ask. 

“No. Don’t worry about me,” he says gently, “Let’s lay down, yeah? Take a nap?”

You barely nod before he’s pulling you back with him, laying himself down and letting you make a home in his side. His hand runs through your hair and his lips press to your forehead, calming you down and doing his best to care for you. 

“You’re mine?” you ask, your voice quiet and weak. 

“I’m yours,” he whispers, “Sleep, honey.”

     Emma knocks on your door hours later, yelling through it that you have half an hour until pregaming starts. Rafe laughs against your mouth, causing you to pull back from your kiss. You’d slept for approximately twenty minutes before shifting up for a kiss, and haven’t stopped since. 

“Think she’ll come in here and drag us out if we’re late?” he jokes. 

You nod, “She will. I’ve tried it.”

He laughs and tightens his grip around you, leaning down for one more kiss before he moves to stand from your bed. 

“It’s time for me to snoop,” he announces, “Are you okay if I stay in here while you shower?”

“Of course,” you reply, “Make yourself comfortable.”

He stands up and so do you, moving toward your bathroom while he leans down to observe the books on your bookshelf closely. You turn and smile at him before you slip inside, hurrying through your shower and your makeup application just so you can get to him again. 

He’s gotten dressed when you emerge, wearing a polo instead of the tee shirt he arrived in. He’s laying on your bed, reading your beat up copy of East of Eden. He grins when he sees you, sitting up and closing the book before ushering you over to him. You’ve dressed in a black crop top and jeans, cute enough to pass for a night out but not exactly as flashy as Emma when she goes out. 

“You look–”

“Y/N! Rafe Cameron! Let’s go!”

Emma’s voice drowns out Rafe’s compliment, which only makes you laugh.

“Beautiful,” he finishes, laughing to himself.

“Thank you,” you murmur, “Are you ready?”

He nods, “Yes.”

You guide him up and take his hand, leading him out of your bedroom. You can see Emma standing in the kitchen, Ethan at her side with a shot glass in his hand. Standing across from them is Christian, also holding a shot glass, standing beside Emma’s friend Caroline. 

Caroline and Emma met their sophomore year at a party, bonding over boys and shots. They’d grown apart the last year, but Caroline is the person Emma calls whenever you don’t want to go out or you’re too busy to hang out with her. 

You turn to Rafe before you reach the kitchen, practically colliding with his chest, “Maybe–”

“We’re going,” he says quietly, “You need a break from thinking. I’ll be right next to you all night.”

You solemnly nod and let him guide you into the kitchen, keeping his hand tightly bound in yours. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Christian greets you, “You guys want a shot?”

“I’m good,” Rafe shakes his head, then looks down at you, “Want one?”

You want to shake your head, but you wind up nodding. Christian grins victoriously and turns to pour one for you. Emma taps your arm, gaining your attention quietly.

“A word?” she whispers. 

Christian offers you a shot glass just as you nod, removing your hand from Rafe’s grip to accept it. You nod to him that you’ll be right back, to which he nods back. 

“What?” you ask once the two of you escape the kitchen. 

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she says, “I’m sure going out wasn’t your idea.”

“It kind of was,” you confess, “He was asking what was bothering me and I kind of blurted out that Christian wanted me to join you guys tonight.”

She shakes her head, “I’m sorry, babe. We don’t have to stay out late, okay?”

You glance over your shoulder back to Rafe, finding Caroline smiling at him from across the kitchen. She steps closer to him, making your body tense. Without a second thought, you down the shot you hold and then step closer to hear them.

“Rafe, is it?” she asks him. 

“It is,” he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“And you’re with Y/N?” 

Caroline practically laughs as she says those words, making your throat tighten. 

“I am.”

You swallow, suddenly staring down at the empty shot glass and wish it was full. Emma watches you listen but doesn’t dare object. 

“A man of many words,” Caroline laughs, “Is it just a fun little thing, like Ethan and Emma?”

“No,” Rafe answers. 

“Oh? So you love her or something?”

You hold your breath. Emma’s lips part as if she’s about to speak, to break up their conversation, but you shake your head before she has the chance. 

“I do.”

The liquor in your stomach suddenly feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. Emma looks at you and smiles so wide, it forces you to do the same. Quickly and discreetly, she gives you a hug and then points to Rafe, silently telling you to go to him. 

“Hm,” Caroline hums, amused with herself, “Interesting. I’ve never even seen that girl step foot into a frat party, let alone a bar. We’ll see how tonight goes.”

You get to Rafe right as Caroline finishes her sentence. Without hesitation, he wraps both of his arms around you and then guides your lips up to his, proving his point without having to be spiteful. When he pulls back, he doesn’t even acknowledge Caroline. 

“I’m yours,” he whispers to you, “Always.”

You nod, feeling the guilt burn up in your stomach with the liquor. 

Emma ushers another shot into you before all of you leave the apartment, dividing into two separate Ubers to get to the bar. Ethan rides with you and Rafe, chatting him up the entire time about football and Rafe’s job. You remain quiet, content with having his arm wrapped around you as you replay his words to Caroline. Two very simple words with a very heavy meaning to them. 

     Rafe orders a beer at the bar, and you don’t miss the way he sips on it all night, not desperate to order another one. He’d been right about being by your side all night, keeping an eye on you and making sure you’re okay. In no way does he try to spoil your fun; Emma orders you drinks and you drink them, finding your way to inebriation quickly upon arrival. 

After about two hours, your eyelids are heavy and your body feels light from all the drinks you’ve consumed. You’re standing with your back to Rafe as you talk to Emma, feeling his hand around your waist and letting you lean on him while he talks to Ethan. The two seem to be forming a friendship, which makes you happy. 

You turn to Rafe and give him your best drunken smile, watching him smile back. 

“You okay, beautiful?” he asks you, leaning down to speak directly into your ear. 

“Very okay,” you nod, “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, y’know. Feel safe with you.”

You don’t miss the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat, as if those words mean more to him than the simple truth they are. He doesn’t speak, he just presses his lips to your cheek. 

Emma hands you a shot and cheers you to take it, watching you make a face as the alcohol flows down your throat. 

“Get together with Rafe Cameron,” she demands, pulling her film camera out of her purse.

You roll your eyes but do as you’re told, both of you smiling as she takes a picture. You’re sure it will come out blurry, evidence of Emma’s drunkenness, but you don’t care. 

“Rafe,” you gain his attention, all confidence sky high because of the alcohol coursing through your system, “I lo–”

He kisses you quickly, catching you off guard and stopping you from confessing how you feel about him. You accept the kiss but frown when he pulls away, mad he interrupted you. He smiles and leans down, ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Tell me tomorrow.”

“I will,” you promise, “Because I do.”

He grins, “I do, too.”

     Emma rounds everyone up the second you tell her you’re ready to go, leaning all your weight on Rafe and not hearing one complaint from him about it. You all wait outside for your Ubers, Emma drunkenly trying to coordinate pickup locations while you steal kisses from Rafe. You’re sure nobody else wants to see the two of you, but you don’t care. You’re too wrapped up in him to care. 

“You’re beautiful when you’re drunk,” he grins. 

“Thank you,” you reply, “Lean down. Can’t reach you up there.”

He laughs but does as instructed, giving you another kiss after he’s already given you a million tonight. 

Just as he pulls away, Emma starts barking out orders of who is in what car, where to go, and demands Rafe stay with you. He nods, because you know he will, and guides you into the backseat of the Uber Ethan leads the two of you to. 

You lay your head on Rafe’s shoulder and close your eyes while the two of them talk. Ethan’s drunk and Rafe’s definitely not, but they still manage to have a halfway decent conversation. When the car stops at your apartment complex a few minutes later, Rafe guides you out and supports you with his arm around your waist. 

“Had fun with you,” you tell him as you walk up the stairs in front of him. 

“Me too, honey,” he replies, “Always do.”

You smile, and when you see Emma waiting outside your apartment door, you launch your arms around her. She laughs and squeezes you tight, Ethan and Rafe standing back and waiting on the two of you to separate.

“You okay?” she whispers in your ear, meaning more than just being drunk.

“Yes,” you whisper back, “Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe,” she grins, “He’s waiting.”

You frown and turn, reaching for Rafe’s hand. He guides you to your bedroom, laughing only slightly when you stumble a few times. You never fall due to his iron grip on your hand. 

“Careful,” he lectures, “Come on, honey. Sit down on the bed, I’ll find you some clothes.”

You sit down as instructed and then fall back, pulling yourself completely onto your bed and closing your eyes. Rafe laughs and shrugs his shirt off, then his pants, and replaces them with shorts. He throws on a tee shirt before he climbs next to you, pulling you right into him.

“Rafe,” you mumble.

“Mhm?”

You don’t respond right away, too busy fighting off the sleep. You grab a fistful of his shirt and try to pull him closer, as if that would solve anything. Your mind runs back to Ava for a moment, thinking about how she never got this part of her night. She never made it home to bed. 

“Rafe,” you repeat. 

“I’m here, Y/N. Right here. Let me know if you want to change into pajamas.”

“No, Rafe,” you whine, tears stinging your closed eyes, “I’m so sorry. About Ava. Can’t stop thinking about how y’lost her. She was beautiful.”

He doesn’t speak, and his grip around you seems to go limp. You don’t notice, instead choosing to press a kiss to his cheek.

“M’sorry,” you say again, “M’sorry I had Emma google her. I just couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.” Without a word from Rafe, you fall asleep, the words I’m sorry still lining your lips and your mind.

Tags: @maybankxw @storytellingwitht @poisxnedmind @slut4rafee @onmykneesforrafe @oliveeu @masteroperator @grimesrheee @justhereforthemonet @mannstarkey @valeriiecameron @lovedetlost @lurkymurker @scenesofobx @mardema @girlsneedloovee @red-wine06 @itsalexwin @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @witchwyfe @malums-trash-can @emotionalbruv @parkerreidnorth @milkiane @rafecameronswhore @wanniiieeee @kookkyra @sarahwasfound @lilgoddesshines @abrunettefangirlnerd @the-chaotic-cow @absolute-fcking-chaos @kaatelyyynn @jordynsharum @anonymousobxfan @premixed-margarita @princesspogue @outlaw-abby @samcaniglia @dr3aming0utl0udx @thisisthewayrose @iammirrorball @r0und3bitch @thesimpletype @fashphotolife @notdisneychannel @gillybear17 @solllaris @i-is-for-inspiring @luversgirl @goldenjo

[bookofbonbon]

antidote - rafe cameron.

pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader.

warnings: drug use.

summary: Rafe needs to see you.

word count: 411.

Rafe Cameron Masterlist.

navigatingbookofbonbon.

Rafe snorts four lines, one after the other. The more, the better, the clearer he can see. It doesn’t make sense to anyone else but himself but, he doesn’t need it to make sense to anyone else but himself.

Running a sweaty hand through his hair, Rafe releases a shaky breath and walks over to his bed, sinking into the mattress and closing his eyes; waiting in silence for the high to kick in.

“Rafe?” you call to him from the doorway.

He doesn’t respond straight away, and you try not to fret, reminding yourself you wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t okay. Taking a step inside his room, you quietly close the door behind you before making your way to his bed where you kneel down and run a gentle thumb between his brows, smoothing out the crease between them.

Rafe’s eyes open lazily, his head lolling to the side to look at you. You’re wearing a white summer dress, it’s his favourite one - off the shoulder and reaching mid-shin. It shows off your neck and the pretty golden necklace he gifted you for your birthday, the pendant hanging just below your collar bones. You look heaven sent; he thinks you might be an angel.

“You came,” Rafe smiles, pushing himself up.

“Oh, my love- of course, I did but, you need to be more careful,” you chide softly.

“I don’t care, I just want to see you,” Rafe mumbles, reaching for your hand. You allow him to pull you into his bed and under the covers but not before your eyes flicker to his desk, where remnants of white powder are scattered across the top.

“You have to stop,” you tell him softly, lying beside him.

“I can’t,” he sniffles and, you know it’s not from the substance but his grief, “you know I can’t.”

He looks tired, more tired than you had ever seen before, eyes hollow and sad, a yearning behind them for your touch so, you bring him into your arms. Rafe cuddles into your side, burying his face into your neck and taking a deep breath. Silence falls over the two of you as you run a comforting hand over his back; his breath evening out as you soothe him to sleep.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbles between soft breaths, "please stay until I wake up".

“I wish I could,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his head before fading back into his memory.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Outer Banks characters or Outer Banks show.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

© bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

[wannabestarkeysgirl-deactivated]

I want to hold him and kiss his face

[lurkymurker-deactivated20221030]

Always been there: a Rafe Cameron series

Synopsis: After a lifetime of playing the will-they, won’t-they game with Rafe Cameron, will summer break mean a new beginning for your relationship?

tl;dr In which you realise Rafe Cameron is the personification of the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.

Part 1 : the backstory

Part 2 : the bottomless brunch

Part 3 : the bonfire

Part 4 : the kegger

Part 5 : the aftermath

Part 6: the proposition

Part 7 : the complication

Part 8 : the cardboard box 

Part 9 : the moments that led to goodbye

Series is completed 💗

[shawnhtsy]

YALL!

[bookofbonbon]

just friends: 2 - rafe cameron.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader.

warnings: swearing. unedited. i don't think so?

summary: you attempt to get back into Rafe's good graces but, it doesn't go how you planned.

word count: 1.3k+

just friends.

Rafe Cameron Masterlist.

navigating bookofbonbon.

-

Rafe Cameron had been avoiding you like the plague ever since that night at the club. You weren’t surprised at first, he always did avoid you for a couple of days whenever you were forced to remind him that the two of you would only ever be just friends.

So, you let him lick his wounds in private like you always did because he always came back to you sooner or later until he didn’t.

A couple of days turned into a week, a week into two and as it neared the third, you knew for certain Rafe Cameron had been avoiding you because he had apparently caught up with all of your other friends over the last 3 weeks but, not you. So, after inquiring with a few of them about his whereabouts, you managed to track him down to a private study room in the back of the library.

You admire his sleeping form, soft snores passing through his pouty lips. A sleeping angel until you toss a random textbook you found onto the table beside his head. The resounding thwack! instantly waking him, his upper body shooting up from where it was bent over the table.

“Morning sleepyhead,” you greet him with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Rafe peers up at you, blinking owlishly but not saying a word until you snap your fingers in front of his face causing him to let out a pained groan.

“God, I was hoping this was a dream,” Rafe grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You dream about me often?” you waggle your eyebrows suggestively.

“More nightmare than dream when it comes to you.”

“Ouch,” you feign hurt, hand over your heart as you settle atop the table. “You tryna hurt my feelings Cameron?”

“Is it working?”

“Oh please,” you scoff. “You could never hurt my feelings.”

“Because you don’t have any, right? Not for me at least,” Rafe shrugs.

Caught off guard by Rafe's indifference towards you, you pause for a beat and silently regard him. He was going to make you work for his affection and, while you anticipated it, you had hoped that he wouldn't. It didn't matter to you though; you'd say what he wanted to hear and deal with his neediness later.

Recomposing yourself, you reach a hand forward and gently brush the stray strands of his hair back.

“Don’t be like that, Rafe. I’ve missed you and I’m hurt you’ve been avoiding me," you pout.

Rafe makes a face at you, eyeing your hand warily as he moves his head away from your touch. You try to hide your surprise but, it doesn't go unnoticed by him and, neither does the small flash of hurt even if you're quick to try and hide that as well.

“I haven’t," Rafe confesses.

“What?” you drop your hand, confused.

“I haven't been avoiding you. Avoiding implies I'm going out of my way to hide from you. I just pretend you don't exist," he explains, leaning back in his seat. "I'm ignoring you."

Your mouth opens like a fish out of water, a strangled sound leaving you.

“Excuse me?” you snap.

“Oh, I think you heard me. It’s what you deserve.”

“You could at least pretend like you’re not.”

“Why would I do that? You’ve made it pretty damn clear you don’t like me so… dot, dot, dot,” he punctuates each ‘dot’ with a jab in the air with his pointer finger.

“That’s not true.”

“That’s not what I recall. Good fuck, okay friend and what was it? All around shitty person, I believe.”

You set your jaw and kiss your teeth, hands flexing in your lap as you no longer attempt to hide your irritation. You tried to play nice but, now you were just annoyed. Why was he always trying to ruin a good thing?

“Ok,” you speak through gritted teeth. “You’re still mad. You’ll get over it, just like you always do.”

“No, I don’t think I will this time.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m done with you,” he speaks with finality and your heart drops.

A strange sensation filters through your chest as an unfamiliar feeling stirs within, and you can feel it creeping up your neck and burning your ears.

Rafe swallows thickly, trying to ignore the way his heart jumps as he watches several emotions pass through your eyes; surprise, realisation, sadness, anger and finally, hurt. So, much hurt and, it's clear as day in your eyes because you had never thought Rafe would leave you. You attempt to conceal your hurt once again with a blank look but, Rafe has already seen it and, it only confirms what he already suspected. You did have feelings for him. And while it hurt him to hurt you, he couldn't allow himself to keep being hurt by you. You had burned him one too many times and he wasn't sure he could handle any more heart ache after your last confrontation with him. You had put up the wall between the two of you and until you could admit your feelings for him, he was going to make sure it stayed there.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” you ask lowly.

Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"It means I'm done chasing you. I'm done letting you walk all over me," Rafe stands and walks towards the door, pulling it open. "Yeah, I'm an asshole, all around shit person - whatever. But I've never pretended to be anything else. Look, you've known how I feel about you for a while now. I think… maybe you’ve even known before I did and, I'm not gonna let you take advantage of that or me anymore so -"

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying I know you have feelings for me. Feelings that you've buried deep, deep, deep down in that cold little heart of yours and, I'm not gonna try to dig them up anymore. So, if you want me in your life as anything more than a friend then, it's your turn to chase me," he finishes with slight apprehension.

"What the fuck, Rafe?"

"What do you mean what the fuck? You did this, not me," he quickly defends himself. "You’re the one who said you didn’t want to date someone like me. You’re the one who always says we’re just friends," he reminds you and you regret ever saying it to begin with.

"Look, Y/N-" he looks down at his watch then back up at you. "I've gotta go, I'm meeting someone."

You stare dumbfounded at Rafe as he dismisses you; standing by the open door and signalling that he wants you to leave and for some reason, you actually do. Shuffling slowly towards it like he wants you too, all fight leaves your body as you try to process that he no longer wanted anything to do with you and it was your own fault. You had always told him ‘just friends’ and now, he was holding you to it.

Stopping before Rafe, you turn to him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and debating whether or not you actually wanted to ask him what you were about to but, it slips out anyway.

"Who are you meeting?" you question timidly, and you internally scold yourself for it. What the fuck had Rafe done to you? This was not how this was supposed to go.

Rafe almost breaks then and there but, he reminds himself of the past and it strengthens his resolve but, not enough to say something snarky back like he usually would’ve.

"No one to worry your pretty little head about. I promise," he smiles half-heartedly, and you nod, finally leaving the room.

You feel dejected and small as you navigate your way mindlessly through the library to leave – feelings you’re not familiar with nor do you like them. You groan aloud, trying to sort through your thoughts but, it feels like white noise inside of your head and you just can’t make seem to make sense of what happened. The only thing you could make sense of was that you were rejected by Rafe Cameron and yet, that still didn’t make any sense. You rejected Rafe, Rafe didn’t reject you and yet here you were – rejected by Rafe and hurt that he rejected you.

“What the fuck?”

-

a/n: the characterisations may seem off but, it’s worth noting that she was purposely trying to hurt Rafe in the first part and Rafe was pissed off with her. Now, he’s realised his self worth lmao

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else. Disclaimer: I do not own the Outer Banks characters or Outer Banks. Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost. © bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

[drewsephrry]

@grimesrheee : 💕: hey! i was wondering if you could do the valentine ship thing for me? (for obx?) i’m 5’7/ 5’8 girl and i have long ish curly hair, brown eyes, tanned skin. i’m in the cheer team at school which i take rlly seriously; it’s my favourite hobby and i would say i’m quite sociable. tysm!😁

thanks for sending a request babe! 💗

I ship you with...

John B Routledge

you two are so cute

he loves coming to see you when you're cheering even if he doesn't want to watch the game

he even pressures his friends to come

"jj, can you this once just come with me??"

he also likes helping you practice

"babe, i'll catch you. don't worry"

sometimes you get upset when you don't nail a move or get a step wrong and he's quick to comfort you and help you remember

"can i join your cheer squad?"

he loves that you're both really showing each other off

because of your social skills, you know plenty of people and you don't care what they'll think about your relationship

you love john b and he loves you, so you want to make it known you're in a relationship with him

hope you'd like this!! 💗

send requests for valentine's day celebration here!! 💗

[skubricks]

“I’m sorry. You were right about a lot of things. I was going to be better. I was going to get clean. But I know you don’t believe me.”

Drew Starkey as Rafe Cameron in Outer Banks

[lurkymurker-deactivated20221030]

Euro Trip (part 10): home

Masterlist for the series can be found here!

Synopsis: As the Euro Trip comes to an end, you're returning home in more ways than one.

Pairing: Rafe x Kook!reader, Topper x Kook!reader

Warnings: cursing, drinking, some kissing, hinting at smut

Word count: 7.0k (i know. im SO SORRY. tying up loose ends is hard!)

a/n: Euro Trip besties, I cannot thank you enough for all the love you have given this series. You guys make me happy beyond belief and I just hope that this is the ending you pictured for our favourite couple ever. Love you guys SO MUCH (i am crying!!!! what a journey!!!). Send in your thoughts, and send in prompts, okay??? bc im not done with Euro Trip Rafe and probably never will be.

“I can’t believe it’s our last night in Europe.” You pouted, the drink in your hand sloshing dangerously. “Don’t wanna go.”

Rafe bit back a chuckle, sharing a knowing look with Topper before responding. “Us either, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes as you gazed up at him, words punctuated by several, poorly timed hiccups. “S’that look?”

“Y/n.” Topper grinned, shaking his head bemusedly. “You said you weren’t planning on getting drunk tonight.”

“M’not drunk.” You frowned, though you were leaning all your weight into Rafe’s torso, his arm protectively wrapped around your neck. “Shut up.”

You felt the hum of Rafe’s chest as he laughed, pressing your cheek against his as he bowed his head. “Okay. Maybe I’m a little drunk.”

“You know what this reminds me of?” Rafe murmured, moving a hand down to steady your hips. “The Amalfi Coast.”

“I’m going to go get another drink.” Topper coughed, registering the intensity of Rafe’s gaze. “You guys are good. Right?”

“Topppperrrrr.” You slurred, smiling dopily. “Me one too, please.”

“Don’t.” Rafe mouthed, shaking his head discreetly. “She’s had enough.”

Topper nodded, offering the taller boy a mock salute before turning on his heel. Once he was out of sight, you raised your chin slightly, doe-eyed and earnest as you gazed up at Rafe. “Amalfi Coast?”

“Mm-hm.” Rafe smiled, tracing circles on the bare skin of your waist. “When you drunk texted me while I was with Sof.”

“Oh. When I ruined your date?” You scowled, crossing your arms half-heartedly. “Sorry.”

Rafe let out an exasperated laugh, recalling Sofia’s near-perfect intuition. “It was hardly a date.”

He paused, brushing your curls to one side to press a chaste kiss on your neck. “No. You were leaning all your weight against me, like this, and all I wanted to do was keep you this close forever.”

“S’where I belong.” You nodded, missing the way Rafe’s breath hitched. “With you.”

“M’not just saying that because I’m drunk.” You added, registering his furrowed brow. “Swear. Just find it hard to be like you, sometimes.”

“Be like me?” Rafe swallowed, hesitant. “Why would you ever want that?”

“Rafael.” You frowned, the uncertainty in his tone sobering you, forcing you to turn around. “Y’know that the things you say make my heart stop, right?”

“I mean…” You continued, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “Just mean that, uh, you’re so good at telling me how y’feel. Wish I was like that.”

Rafe’s lips parted slightly, his eyes searching yours, almost desperately. “I’m only good at it because you’re you.”

And it was true. Because when Rafe Cameron was in your presence, he didn’t have to think twice about what he was going to say. It was written in the ardor of his gaze, the magnetic need to keep you close, the circles he traced on your skin, the feeling of warmth that settled in his chest.

Your eyes widened, arms wrapping around his neck on instinct. “And you’re you.”

The words, once caustic to his ears, were no longer laced with the same contempt Ward Cameron had spent the last eighteen years perfecting. They were genuine; tender-hearted in a way Rafe was almost certain he didn’t deserve. Almost.

Because as he thought back on the stolen moments that had memorialised your last week in Spain, he realised how very special it was to be around the real you. The you under the disinterested façade; the 'all in' Y/n Y/l/n that was capable of loving him so deeply it was hindering his ability to breathe.

“Rafael.” You lilted, taking his hands in yours. “C’mon. We’re going to dance.”

“Dance?” Rafe laughed, looking around at the barren street. “Here?”

You lifted an eyebrow, swaying slightly against the gentle breeze. “Why not?”

“There’s no music.” Rafe responded, though he guided his hands to your waist, palms pressed against the soft skin, electrified. “And it’s late.”

“Don’t be boring.” You grinned, threading your fingers through his hair. “Top’s finally gone.”

Rafe nodded sagely, twirling you around before pulling you close. “Getting me alone so you can take advantage. Got it.”

“Take advantage?” You repeated, tugging at the locks on the nape of your neck. “Of what, exactly?”

“The fact that I’d do anything for you.”

You faltered, feeling brave. “Do you remember the last time you told me that?”

Rafe frowned, chewing at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Before prom?”

“Before prom.” You affirmed, offering him a half-smile. “You know, I did want to go with you.”

“You did?” Rafe breathed, incredulous. “Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I…”

You trailed off, wide-eyed, unsure if you would be able to convey everything you wanted to say. “Thank you. For being patient with me.”

And once the metaphorical wall came down, as did every physical one; Rafe Cameron paid in full for his hotel room, and then, he managed to pay for yours, too.

“What was that thing you said, the other day?” You questioned, scratching your chin thoughtfully. “Something about sliding the –”

“Y/n.” Rafe swallowed, his shirtless figure jolting upright. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m meant to say that to you.” You frowned, though your eyes were twinkling mischeviously, betraying you. “Anyway, I was just going through my luggage –”

Rafe nodded, sliding off the large bed to stride toward your figure. He cocked his head to one side, palms pressed against the opposing wall, crowding you against it. “Just going through your luggage, huh?”

“Mm-hm.” You responded, breath hitching as you registered his dilated pupils. “Rafael–”

“Y/n.” Rafe echoed, his words strained, drawing nearer still. “You’re teasing.”

You bit back a smile, inclining your head slightly. “And what if I am?”

He matched the action, a strong arm circling your waist and picking you up. “Are you trying to fucking kill me?”

Using his free hand to tug at the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, he allowed the dress to slide down your torso, groaning slightly as your bare skin fell against his. You quirked an eyebrow at his haste, allowing him to push you against the bed, his body inches away from yours.

“You are –” Rafe breathed, his eyes roaming your body, fingers tracing the curves. “ – unbelievable.”

“You said that already.” You pouted, circling his neck to pull him closer. “Please, Rafe, need you.”

Rafe nodded slowly, eyes wide as you tugged at the waistband of his shorts. “Am I dreaming?”

Rafe Cameron was fairly certain he was. Because in the midst of falling in love with you, he was learning, through every gentle action, how to fall in love with himself.

“Dude.” Topper howled, thrusting his phone in Rafe’s face. “Look at my memories from today.”

Rafe paused, realisation dawning on his features as he registered the Snapchat. “Fucking hell.”

“What is it?” You quipped, craning your neck slightly as Topper pulled it backward. “Dude. Show me.”

“Uh.” Topper faltered, casting Rafe a wayward glance. “Rafe?”

Rafe shook his head discreetly, fixing Topper with a pointed glare before responding. “It’s nothing.”

“Rafael.” You frowned, narrowing your eyes. “Tell me.”

Eyes darting between their figures, you stepped backward, quick to swipe at Topper’s hand and snatch the phone from his grasp. A beat passed as you squinted down at the phone, the screen illuminating an old photo of Rafe sitting alone, at the Island Club.

“What’s this from?” You questioned, brow furrowed slightly. “Are you wearing a suit?”

“It’s from…”

Topper trailed off, shrugging his shoulders, exasperated. “What? It’s not a big deal.”

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, pausing momentarily before gesturing for Topper to continue. “Okay. Whatever.”

“Last year.” Topper started, stifling a laugh. “Me and Kelce were heading in for a game and found Rafe sitting by himself, and of course we had to take a photo, because when has our boy ever been stood up?”

“Huh.” You nodded, eyes flitting over Rafe’s features, searching them for candor. “Must’ve been some girl.”

“Right.” Rafe nodded, his expression unreadable. “Some girl.”

Not entirely convinced, you brought the topic up again once Topper was out of sight.

“So, about this girl.” You started, balancing on tip-toes to keep your tone gentle. “She sucks.”

Rafe offered you a half-smile, steadying you against him before responding. “Wasn’t a girl.”

He hesitated, letting out a harsh breath. “My dad, uh, the summer before senior year, he wanted me to start working for him. So he told me to meet him at the Island Club, and I wanted to make a good impression, so I wore a suit, got everything ready, arrived early... you know what I mean. I wanted to show him I was serious about this."

“I, uh…”

He trailed off, eyes squeezed shut. “I waited for two hours. He never showed, and we never talked about it again. Guess I wasn’t important enough for him to remember.”

“Rafe.” You swallowed, arms wrapped around his neck as you leant in. “That’s not okay.”

“It’s fine.” Rafe shrugged, threading his fingers through his hair. “Used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

You paused, taking his hands in yours to press kisses along his knuckles. “Your dad missed out. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do.”

“I do absolutely no work.” Rafe scoffed, though he felt the tips of his ears redden, endeared. “You’re the valedictorian –”

“As if I don’t know you’re second in our class.” You retorted, lifting an eyebrow at his expression. “And I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about everything else. Being captain of the football team, and track, and taking care of your sisters, and all the Cameron Development fundraisers, and…”

You trailed off, frowning slightly. “…me.”

Pressing your arms against his chest, you shook your head, and when you spoke again, it was with your whole chest. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that? Under the cocky frat boy act – oh shut up Rafael, no I don’t ‘love it’ – you’re kind of absolutely fucking amazing.”

Days and nights in Barcelona slipped by without you realising, too busy basking in Rafe Cameron’s presence; marvelling in the reciprocity of it all.

“I fucking hate you guys.” Topper slurred, slightly cross-eyed. “You –”

Topper halted, punching a forefinger against Rafe’s chest. “ – stole my best friend.”

“Stole?” You quipped, a warning lilt to your tone. “Not your property.”

You wrapped an arm around Topper’s shoulder, Rafe promptly taking his other side. “And I’m still your best friend, you fucking idiot.”

“Okay.” Topper nodded, pausing momentarily before continuing. “Where’s my girl?”

You stifled a giggle, sharing a knowing look with Rafe before responding. “Your girl?”

“Amber.” Topper announced, his eyes widening. “Amber’s my girl.”

You snorted, promptly covering your mouth when you registered Topper’s scowl. “Sorry, Top. Amber?”

“You –” Topper grimaced, jerking his thumb toward Rafe’s figure. “– got her too.”

“I got Amber?” Rafe repeated, incredulous. “Top, shut up. You’re drunk.”

Topper nodded, giving you and Rafe a meaningful, once-over. “Y’guys make me feel lonely.”

Rafe bit back a laugh, brow furrowed in feigned confusion. “Why, Top?”

“Cause.” Topper started, gesticulating wildly. “Alllll the lovey-dovey, and the little looks, and the whispering…”

He trailed off, gagging violently. “…god. I get it.”

You wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, resigned instead, to giving Topper’s shoulder a fond pat. “Don’t worry, buddy. There’s someone for everyone.”

Rafe quirked an eyebrow at your admission, lowering his voice as he leaned over Topper’s head. “I’m your someone?”

“Mm-hm.” You nodded, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Am I not your someone?”

Rafe faltered, pleasantly surprised. “Y/n.”

He extended his arm past Topper’s shoulder, his signet ring pressed against your neck. “You’ve been my someone for a while, now.”

You leaned in, lips pressed against his, gentle and slow. “You’re you, Rafe Cameron.”

Rafe smiled into the kiss, breathing you in, the tantalising mix of alcohol and passion intoxicating his senses. “I’m not Rafe Cameron without you.”

Nodding, with eyes half closed, you pulled backward, fingers pressed against your tinged lips as you spoke. “We go back tomorrow.”

“We do.” Rafe affirmed, his eyes flitting over your features, almost nervous. “How’re you feeling?”

“Drunk.” You mumbled, crinkling your nose slightly. “I mean, uh, I don’t know.”

Rafe swallowed, his brow knitted as he registered your words. “Don’t know about us?”

“No!” You responded quickly, palms pressed against his chest. “No, that’s not what I meant, I, uh…”

You trailed off, blinking several times. “…intimidating place, the Figure Eight.”

Rafe nodded, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Going to be interesting, being back –”

“ – together.” You finished, smiling. “I didn’t mean… I, uh, it’s scary.”

“But we’re ready.” You added, reaching down to take his hands in yours. “All in.”

“All in.”

__

True to your Kook roots, your flight from Barcelona was expertly timed around the Figure Eight social calendar; landing home in time to catch the last of the annual Thornton family barbecue.

Having spent the last thirteen hours wrapped in Rafe’s arms, you were feeling particularly unkempt as you exited the plane; your reflection in the airport bathroom mirror eliciting a resigned grimace as you made to leave.

“God.” You cringed, hastening to remove your makeup bag from your suitcase. “Tragic.”

Though the event itself was far from formal, the prospect of your debut was proving more nerve-racking than you were willing to admit. You could already feel the bubble-wrap twisting back around your figure, suffocating your senses, weighing down your slumped shoulders until you were sure you couldn’t breathe. Because when you escaped the Outer Banks for Europe, it felt as though you were finally coming up for fresh air. And when you registered your tired features, almost dulled, against the backdrop of the Figure Eight, you were made painfully aware of its absence.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you sidled into a clean dress, giving yourself one last, fleeting once-over before exiting the bathroom. Rafe was quick to slot you into his side once he registered your figure, his eyes searching yours worriedly before bowing his head.

“You okay?” He murmured, his voice impossibly gentle. “Listen, we don’t have to go if you’re –”

“It’s fine.” You interrupted, offering him a half-smile. “Seriously. I want to see everyone.”

Rafe hesitated, not entirely convinced. “You’re sure?”

“Mm-hm.” You nodded, arms wrapping around his torso, giving him an appreciative squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

Topper cleared his throat awkwardly, fixing the two of you with a pointed glare. “Okay. Enough. We’re definitely going, Y/n’s even fucking changed.”

“Shut up!” You spluttered, reddening. “Sorry that I want to look half decent, unlike you –”

“Sweetheart.” Rafe murmured, a teasing smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. “You look more than half-decent.”

He leaned backward, his eyes raking over your figure shamelessly. “On second thought, maybe we should just stay in –”

“Rafael.” You warned, aiming a playful punch at his shoulder. “Come on.”

Kelce was leaning against his father’s SUV when you did finally exit the airport, luggage dragging behind you half-heartedly as you traversed the busy carpark. Once within earshot, you let out an excited whoop, suitcase dropping onto the gravel in order to make for his figure.

“Kelcey!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re here!”

Kelce let out a surprised laugh, quick you circle your waist and pull you into his chest. “Y/n!”

“Holy shit.” You breathed, smiling wide as he picked you up. “I have missed you.”

Kelce quirked an eyebrow at the admission, loosening his grip on your waist as he bowed his head. “Have you really? Or have you been too busy replacing me with someone else?”

“Excuse me?” You spluttered, swallowing slightly. “I haven’t replaced you.”

Kelce ignored you, stepping sideways to greet Topper’s figure. “Buddy!”

“Come here, you idiot.” Topper laughed, pulling Kelce into a fleeting side hug. “How the fuck are you?”

“How the fuck are you?” Kelce retorted, aiming a deft punch at Topper’s chest, forcing him to keel over. “That’s for Y/n, by the way.”

Kelce paused, giving Rafe a pointed once-over before doing the very same to him. “That too.”

“Fair enough.” Rafe grinned sheepishly, clutching at his chest. “All good, Smith?”

“Same old.” Kelce shrugged, slotting you into his side before continuing. “More importantly, how was the fucking trip?”

Rafe hesitated, his eyes flitting over your features as he readjusted his backwards cap. “Good.”

“Good?” Kelce repeated, incredulous. “Bro, shut up.”

He shared a knowing look with Topper, his eyes twinkling mischeviously as he spoke. “You’ve been pining for our best friend, for what, five years?”

“Kelce.” You warned, flushing slightly. “Stop it.”

“Y/n.” Kelce sang, ruffling your tousled curls. “I’m never stopping. This situation is fucking hilarious. I’m sorry, how many fucking times did you complain to me about Cameron?”

You spluttered meekly, swatting at Kelce’s forearm in an attempt to escape his grasp. “Oh my god. Don’t start.”

“And you.” Kelce added, jerking a forefinger toward Rafe’s chest. “How many times did you beg me to set you two up?”

“Let’s see.” Rafe started, brow furrowed in mock concentration. “Once every football practice, for over five years, including that one game I missed–”

“Rafe.” You interrupted, folding your arms across your chest. “Not funny.”

“Oh, he’s not joking.” Topper laughed, quirking an eyebrow at your expression. “Trust us.”

“Yeah.” Kelce added, grim. “He’s insufferable. On his birthday, senior year, our team was almost just going to gift him you –”

You let out an exasperated scoff, eyes darting between Kelce and Topper, disbelieving. “Shut up. That’s why you wanted me to come so bad?”

“No!” Kelce responded, shaking his head bemusedly. “No. It didn’t end up happening. Cameron got wind of it and told us off.”

You softened, pouting slightly as you gazed up at Rafe. “Really?”

“Really.” Rafe affirmed, circling your waist to pull you close. “And when you came anyway, I thought I was fucking dreaming.”

You let out an ardent sigh, balancing on tip-toes to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “My boy.”

“My girl.”

“I know.” Topper scowled, watching Kelce keel over and begin gagging violently. “You’re lucky you didn’t have to third-wheel.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Kelce grinned, raising his chin slightly, back still bent. “The you and Y/n and every girl in the Figure Eight love triangle was enough drama as is.”

“Never again.” He muttered, reddening slightly as he caught your eye. “Best friends?”

“Always.” You laughed, fixing Kelce was a pointed glare. “Okay, c’mon, you’ve had your fun. Can we please go?”

Kelce cocked his head to one side, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Fine. The barbeque is where the real fun happens, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned, swallowing slightly. “What real fun?”

Kelce furrowed his brow, registering the way you tensed against Rafe’s side. “Nothing, Y/n. I was kidding. Don’t worry.”

He paused, lowering his voice worriedly. “You’re okay to come, right?”

“Yeah!” You hurried, feigning nonchalance. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

The car ride to the Thornton residence was significantly less audacious than the carpark exchange, spent making small-talk about Kelce’s internship or reminiscing over mundane, high-school events. You were fairly certain this was for your own benefit; Kelce wasn’t the only one who had registered your unease, with Rafe equally happy for you to remain quiet, a protective arm keeping you close.

“Hey.” He murmured finally, resting his hands atop yours, registering the way they trembled. “Talk to me.”

You paused, suddenly feeling extremely ill. “The Figure Eight is unforgiving, Rafael.”

“It is.” Rafe nodded, guiding you out of the backseat before slotting you into his side. “But we’re going to be fine.”

“Are we?” You questioned, impossibly meek. “I mean…”

You trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut. “…if we walk in there, together, it’s for real. And I mean, I get it if you don’t want it to be, because everything’s still so new, but I don’t want to –”

“Y/n.” Rafe interrupted, bowing his head to eye level. “It’s been for real since I was fourteen.”

He paused, his lips pressed against your temple, comforting against the North Carolina breeze. “Since forever.”

“I know.” You laboured, burying your head in your hands. “I’m sorry, I know. I’m being an idiot.”

“Idiot, lovable.” Rafe corrected, offering you a cheeky grin. “C’mon. Once we see Noah you’re going to be beaming.”

“Am I?” You questioned, quirking an eyebrow at his sincerity. “How come?”

Rafe bit back a laugh, leaning backward to better survey your features. “Y/n. You know he’s probably proofread every drunk text I’ve sent you, right?”

“You’ve hardly sent any.” You retorted, poking your tongue out playfully. “I don’t get it.”

“Exactly.” Rafe responded, nodding thoughtfully as he guided you through the door, Topper and Kelce close behind. “You should probably thank him for that, actually.”

You shook your head bemusedly, striding through the long hallway until you hit the open living room. Most of your graduating class was lounging on the beanbags dotting the sunny deck, Noah’s figure clearly visible amongst the bustle.

“My man!” Rafe called, loosening his grip on your waist as he spotted Noah’s figure. “Hell-fucking-ello.”

Noah let out an appreciative whoop, dapping Rafe up before sliding a drink out of the cooler. “Holy fucking shit. Here, you’re not drunk enough.”

Gripping at Rafe’s shirt by the collar, he pulled him forward, his gaze shifting past his figure before settling on you. “Y/n!”

“Noah.” You smiled, leaning in for an awkward hug. “Hey. How’re you?”

Noah paused, his eyes darting toward Rafe’s figure roguishly. “Europe looks good on you, Y/n. Those bikini photos you posted on Instagram? Absolutely fucking–”

“Noah.” Rafe gritted, placing a punishing grip on his shoulder. “Don’t start, alright?”

“Oof.” Noah laughed, flashing you a playful wink. “What? I can’t flirt with the hot girl?”

You reddened, eyes widening slightly as they flitted toward Rafe. “Noah –”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/n.” Rafe interrupted, rolling his eyes pointedly. “Noah just likes fucking with me.”

Noah shrugged, offering you a cheeky grin. “So how the fuck did he manage to do it?”

“Do what?” You frowned, crinkling your nose as you gazed up at Rafe. “He’s done nothing but harass me all month.”

“Sound like him.” Noah nodded sagely, an arm wrapped around Rafe’s neck, choking him. “Please leave the poor girl alone.”

“My poor girl.” Rafe coughed, tapping his hand against Noah’s forearm in order to escape his grasp. “Put some fucking respect on her name.”

“I think being your girl has removed some from it, actually.” You retorted, biting back a laugh at Rafe’s pout. “Kidding, Rafael.”

“Rafael?” Noah repeated, quirking an eyebrow at Rafe’s figure. “You’re totally fucking whipped.”

You faltered, a bemused expression on your features. “What? He doesn’t like being called Rafael?”

“You know how he beat up James in eighth grade?” Noah grinned, deftly dodging the punch Rafe threw his way. “It was because–”

“White.” Rafe warned, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Enough, alright?”

Noah bit back a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you toward them. “Anyway, listen, Y/n, I’m pretty sure you’re the only thing that’s kept him in check all these years.”

He paused, lowering his voice slightly, his tone no longer playful. “Thank you.”

“Fucking hell, bro.” Rafe muttered, though the tips of his ears were tinged pink, endeared by the sentiment. “Thanking a girl for being with me?”

You exhaled, knowing his words were genuine. “I should be thanking him. For being so patient.”

“That too.” Noah grinned, pulling away as you slotted into Rafe’s side. “Great source of entertainment.”

“Like, that time.” He continued, chuckling lowly as he registered Rafe’s grimace. “When he begged Kelce to find out what you were wearing to Midsummers –”

“Drink, Y/n?” Rafe interrupted, fixing Noah with a pointed glare before steeling you away. “Good bye White. I fucking hate you, by the way.”

“Long story short!” Noah called, cupping his hands over his mouth. “The boy’s been whipped since before you knew he existed!”

You jerked your head toward his figure, offering him a weak thumbs up before fixing your gaze on Rafe. “What was that about?”

Rafe paused, grimacing momentarily before offering you a sheepish grin. “Did you notice that we matched, Midsummer’s sophomore year?”

You frowned, chewing at your bottom lip thoughtfully. “But that was the year I went with –”

“ – James.” Rafe finished, quirking an eyebrow at the admission. “Yeah. What was up with that, by the way?”

“Oh, don’t start.” You muttered, reddening. “Some stupid business deal with the Johnsons’ that my dad was trying to get in on.”

Rafe’s mouth was half-way open in retort, the cogs turning in his head, when he was interrupted by a manicured hand against his bicep, prompt to whirl him around.

“Rafe!” Amber squealed, wrapping her arms around Rafe’s torso, forcing you out of his grasp. “Oh my god! You’re home!”

She paused, giving you a pointed once-over before continuing. “With Y/n.”

“Hello to you too, Amber.” You inclined, offering her tight lipped smile before stepping closer to Rafe. “How was your summer?”

“Average.” Amber shrugged, shifting slightly to meet Rafe’s eye. “Better now that you’re here, though.”

She made to take his hand, frowning slightly as he drew it back to his side. “Rafe, c’mon. Let’s hang out.”

“Amber.” Rafe warned, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, Amber.” You gritted, and as you stepped forward, Rafe wasn’t sure he had seen anything more winsome. “I think he’s good.”

Amber faltered, brow knitted as she surveyed your hardened expression. Slowly, laboriously, her mouth fell open, realisation dawning on her features as she registered your lingering contact. “Oh shit. You two finally got together, huh?”

“As if you didn’t know.” You muttered, clearing your throat awkwardly. “He’s been posting an Instagram story a fucking day of –”

“So? That’s nothing new.” Amber interrupted, quirking an eyebrow at your weak splutter. “He’s always been like that with you.”

Your swallowed, eyes wide as they met hers. “That’s not true.”

“Y/n.” Amber responded, forcing a laugh. “You know you’re all he talks about, right?”

“Even with me.” She continued, fixing him with a pointed glare. “I never really got it.”

Rafe frowned, his features softening as he gazed down at you, smitten beyond belief. “What’s not to get?”

“Rafe.” You flushed, impossibly meek. “Shut up.”

“See what I mean?” Amber inclined, gesticulating wildly. “All the fucking time. You know how many hearts you’ve broken, Cameron?”

Rafe swallowed, grimacing. “Amber…”

“Whatever.” She interrupted, shaking her head bemusedly. “I think everyone knew it was always going to be her, in the end, anyway.”

You watched her disappeared into the crowd, your shoulders tense, forehead puckered. When you did finally break the silence, it was through a laboured sigh, your voice barely audible over the bustle. “You know…”

You trailed off, frowning slightly. “I always thought it was going to be her in the end.”

“Amber?” Rafe questioned, his expression incredulous. “Amber fucking Graham?”

“Don’t give me that shit, Rafael.” You retorted, lifting an eyebrow warningly. “I’ve seen you shove your tongue down her throat more times that I would’ve liked to.”

“So, you were paying attention.” Rafe joked, though he faltered momentarily, registering your uncertainty. “No way. It was never like that with her.”

“I was an idiot, back then.” He added, swallowing slightly. “And I mean, it’s not like we were ever exclusive, or ever anything serious, it was just…”

He trailed off, coughing awkwardly. “A distraction.”

“For both of you?”

“I think so.” Rafe affirmed, catching your wrists to place soft kisses on your knuckles. “Our families have been close my whole life, you know? I think she just assumed that we had to be, too. I don’t think it was ever really genuine.”

You nodded, swallowing slightly. “Like me and Top.”

“Like you and Top.” He affirmed, pulling you close. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Alright.” You responded finally, crinkling your nose as you met his eye. “C’mon. We’re too sober for this.”

Rafe chuckled appreciatively, tightening his grip on your waist as he traversed the crowd. Found alongside the numerous coolers was a bored looking Sarah Cameron, her figure leaning against the adjacent wall, nursing a suspicious looking glass of liquid.

“What the fuck?” She laughed, stepping forward to pull her brother into a hug. “I didn’t know you were back!”

Rafe grinned, offering her a fleeting side hug before searching her features. “Dad here?”

“Nope.” Sarah responded, her lips puckered as she popped the p. “Business trip, don’t worry. Wheez is out back, and I think Rose’s already drunk.”

“Scar isn’t even here.” She scowled, eyes narrowed as she glanced over the crowd. “Don’t leave. I’m fucking bored.”

Rafe quirked an eyebrow at her request, shifting slightly so you were in view. “Sarah, you know Y/n, right?”

Sarah halted, her eyes wide, mouth gaping open. “Dude.”

She cleared her throat, fixing her features quickly before wrapping her arms around you. “Of course I know Y/n! How was your trip?”

“Good.” You nodded, beaming. “How was your summer, Sar?”

“Shut up.” She lilted, ignoring your question. “You know what I mean. How was your trip?”

“Sarah.” Rafe grumbled, pushing at her shoulder. “Don’t be fucking rude. Answer her question.”

You bit back a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Rafael. It’s fine.”

“Rafael?” Sarah repeated, quirking an eyebrow pointedly. “What? We’re allowed to call you that, now?”

“Go on, Sarah.” Rafe challenged, his jaw clenched. “Call me Rafael.”

Sarah cocked her head to one side, raising her arms in surrender. “God, relax. What do you see in him, Y/n?”

“Unsure.” You responded thoughtfully, the corners of your mouth twitching. “Will let you know when I know.”

Rafe grinned, his tongue pressed against his cheek. “Holy fuck. Am I a masochist?”

“A masochist?” You repeated, feigning shock. “That’s a big word. I’m proud of you.”

“Okay.” Rafe murmured, bowing his head, his breath tickling the soft spot under your earlobe. “I’m definitely a fucking masochist.”

Sarah made a face, gulping down a considerable amount of her alcohol before responding. “Simp you makes me want to puke, Rafe.”

“Respectfully.” She added, registering your awkward laugh. “Can you like, live with us, Y/n? Pretty sure this is the longest we’ve managed to go without him calling me a bitch.”

“Sarah.” Rafe warned, exasperated. “Boundaries, you stupid bitch.”

She twisted at her wrist, glancing down at her watch display pointedly. “Nevermind.”

“Anyway.” She continued, shifting her stance, ready to escape. “How was your trip Rafael?”

Sarah was breaking into a run before Rafe could register her words, her figure expertly flitting through the crowd and disappearing out of sight. Unbeknownst to you, her prompt escape was to find Rose; she knew your mother would be close by, and she was eager to relay the news.

“My wonderful sister.” Rafe muttered grimly, obliging as you forced him to halt. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Was funny.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, squinting slightly as he gazed over your head, toward the crowd. “Wait a minute.”

You frowned, turning your body around and guiding his arm around your neck. “She’s coming back?”

“Oh shit.” You added, paling. “Mom! Hey!”

“Y/n!”

She wrapped her arms around your waist, expertly balancing her wine glass against your back. “Where’s Topper?”

“Huh?” You responded, leaning backward to survey her features. “I don’t know, why?”

“Ah.”

Your mother frowned, her eyes darting toward Rose’s figure awkwardly. “Sorry, Sarah told us that you had got together with someone when you were away –”

“Mom.” You interrupted, shaking your head vigorously. “I, uh…”

You trailed off, taking Rafe’s hand in yours. “You know Rafe Cameron, right? Rose’s stepson?”

Rose raised her wine glass appreciatively, linking arms with your mother as she spoke. “Welcome home!”

Your mother grimaced, quick to fix her features and offer Rafe an apologetic smile. “Of course. My mistake, Rafe, it’s lovely to see you.”

“No problem, Mrs. Y/l/n.” Rafe grinned, his arm wrapped around your neck, pulling you flush against him. “It’s taken both of us by surprise.”

“Well bless your heart.” She smiled, taking a slow sip of her wine, her eyes crinkled at the sides. “Her father couldn’t make it, today, but you must come over for dinner, meet the rest of the family.”

“Of course.” Rafe breathed, and you could feel his heartbeat quicken at the offer. “Anytime.”

“We should organise one together.” Rose offered, waving her hand in the air excitedly. “Oh, Tannyhill is absolutely gorgeous during Thanksgiving break, we must have your family over for…”

You allowed yourself to tune out of the conversation, having perfected the art of nodding intermittently, a small smile fixed on your features. Eventually, the prospect of flower arrangements whisked their away, eager to talk through the next fundraiser as the sun dipped over the horizon.

Heaving a sigh of relief, you pulled Rafe back toward the deck, darting between familiar faces before squeezing into a corner of the back garden. You didn’t miss the meaningful glances sent your way, the steady whoops that followed Rafe’s figure, hushed I knew it’s and fucking finally’s that left you flushed beyond belief.

“Huh.” Rafe inclined, his eyes shifting over the tall hedges, how expertly they tucked the two of you away. “You know this place well.”

“This was always my hiding spot when we were little.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Hey. We survived.”

“Mm-hm.” Rafe nodded, kissing you eagerly, his fingers pressed against your skin. “And now everyone knows.”

“That I’m your girl?”

“My girl.”

And as you basked in the revelation, feeling so impossibly free in Rafe Cameron’s arms, you felt the bubble-wrap loosen; it wasn’t Europe, nor your escape from the Figure Eight, the breath of fresh air was him, you were fairly certain it always had been.

“Hey, Rafe?” You said finally, shrubs muffling the sound of distant chatter. “Can I ask you something?”

Rafe nodded, his fingers threading through your hair. “Go on.”

You paused, knitting your brow in an attempt to gather your thoughts. In the month you had spent tucked into his side, Rafe had only ever mentioned his father once; the interaction in question so painfully negative you were fairly certain it took every ounce of conviction he could muster. “Why, uh…”

You trailed off, frowning slightly. “Sarah said ‘don’t worry’ about your dad not being here. Do you not want him to meet me, or something?”

Rafe shook his head vigorously, wide-eyed and earnest as he gazed down at you. “No! No way.”

He screwed up his features, pausing momentarily before letting out a defeated sigh. “Shit. No, it’s not about you. It’s about me.”

You nodded slowly, thumbing at his clenched jaw, coaxing it loose. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s fine.” He swallowed, leaning into the touch. “He, uh, he’s not exactly father of the year. And I…”

He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t know. I’m not me when I’m around him. Not this me. I’m insecure, and desperate, and–”

“Hey.” You murmured, cupping his cheeks tenderly. “I love every version of you, Rafael.”

Rafe felt his shoulders relax, lips parting as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Giving him a gentle squeeze, you raised your chin slightly, resting it against his chest as you gazed up at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Rafe bowed his head, his eyes searching yours, almost desperate. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

__

You were leaning against the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang, squinting down at a compact mirror as you daubed on another coat of lip-gloss.

Shoving it back into your handbag, you straightened, teasing out a few, stray locks before striding toward the door.

“Holy shit.” Rafe breathed, his heartbeat quickening considerably. “Blue dress.”

“Blue dress.” You affirmed, twirling coyly before stepping over the threshold. “Mmmm blue dress.”

Rafe cocked his head to one side, a signet ring clad finger tracing the curve of your waist, teasingly slow. “This dress fucking owns me.”

He paused, chewing at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “You fucking own me,”

“Okay, Rafael.” You laughed, attempting to swallow your hitched breath. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Rafe responded, crowding you against the closed door. “Let’s stay.”

“My dad is like two feet away.” You hissed, eyes widening at his proximity, electrified. “Come on.”

Clearing your throat with as much conviction as you could muster, you took his hand in yours, tugging him down the porch steps and toward his parked car. “Where are we going?”

“Secret.” Rafe grinned, opening the door for you before jogging toward the driver’s side. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Rafe.” You frowned, jerking your head toward the backseat. “A picnic blanket?”

“You’ll see, sweetheart.” Rafe insisted, removing his backwards cap to ruffle his hair. He placed it atop your head, nodding appreciatively before pulling out of the driveway.

Rolling your eyes at his cryptic response, you slumped further back in your chair, the backwards cap balanced haphazardly as your eyes flitted over your surroundings. “Rafael, this is the way to school.”

“Hm.” Rafe responded simply, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe so.”

When he had finally pulled into a park, the sun hung low over the horizon, casting a glow so golden against your figure Rafe Cameron was fairly certain that he was dreaming.

“C’mon.” He encouraged, the low hum of the ignition dying out. “Track.”

“Track?” You repeated, gazing up at him bemusedly. “On the field?”

Rafe simply nodded in response, tucking the picnic blanket under one shoulder and your figure under the other. Once you reached the very middle of the grounds, he loosened his grip on your waist, his free hand untangling the blanket to rest it on the dewy grass. Too busy searching your immediate vicinity, you missed the wine bottle tucked into the last corner, Rafe fingers smoothing out the French label before promptly straightening at your side.

Sliding his phone out of his back pocket, he gestured you forward, pressing his palms against your shoulders in an attempt to seat you atop it.

“Rafael.” You warned, folding your arms across your chest. “Why’re we here?”

“Y/n.” Rafe teased, his tongue pressed against his cheek. “I never asked you to senior prom.”

Your eyes widened, flitting toward his phone before responding. “Yes, you did.”

“Not properly.” Rafe responded airily, pausing before punching a forefinger against the screen. “I looooveeeee you babyyyyy….”

Hilariously off-beat, Rafe Cameron began waving his arms in the air, using his phone as a mock microphone as he recreated your favourite scene from 10 Things I Hate About You.

“You’re fucking kidding.” You laughed, disbelieving. “No way you were actually going to do this.”

“Of course, I was.” Rafe responded, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But Noah talked me out of it."

“You were?”

You swallowed, wide-eyed as you gazed up at him. “In front of everyone? For me?”

Rafe furrowed his brow, pressing pause on the song before settling on the blanket beside you. “Always.”

“And look.” Rafe added, grinning as he reached behind you. “Wine.”

Your eyes flitted over the foreign label, lips parting slightly as realisation dawned. “From your birthday?”

“Mm-hm.” Rafe nodded, his smile genuine. “Haven’t opened it.”

You chewed at your bottom lip absently, speaking through concentrated frown. “You’re half-French.”

“Wait a fucking minute.” You added, an accusing lilt to your tone. “You’re half-French, Rafael.”

Rafe nodded slowly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. “Mm-hm.”

“It’s nothing.” You insisted, coughing awkwardly. “I, uh, can’t pronounce the name.”

Rafe quirked an eyebrow at the admission, pausing to read over the French label wrapped around the glass bottle. Having summered in Nice with his cousins more times than he could count, he was more than capable of enunciating the words; he was half-French, it was intuitive. But as his eyes flitted over your features, almost nervous, as you gazed up at him, he realised that this wasn’t really about him; it was about you, and it was about you and him.

“Oh yeah.” He responded finally, squinting as he spoke. “That’s punishing for sure.”

You let out a relieved laugh, stepping forward to punch a forefinger against the label. “Too many bottles of this wine we can’t pronounce.”

Rafe paused, a gentle oh! escaping his lips as he bowed his head to eye level. “Frank Ocean.”

“You knew how to say it, then.” You pouted, brow furrowing slightly. “Liar.”

“Y/n.” Rafe murmured, his gaze impossibly giddying. “It doesn’t matter.”

He paused, his eyes searching yours, a brilliant blue. “Because ever since you told me this bottle of wine reminded you of me – and far before that, much farther than I’m willing to admit – absolutely nothing else has mattered. Nothing. Except you.”

“I didn’t open it.” He pressed on, uncorking the bottle gently. “I wanted you to drink it with me.”

“So you said on your birthday.” You breathed, swallowing slightly. “How did you know? That I would, eventually?”

“I didn’t.” Rafe shrugged, pausing momentarily to take a swig. “I’d wait. I’d wait forever, for you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, and then, closer still. “I think you and I both know it wasn’t ever going to be forever.”

“Yeah?” Rafe grinned, pressing the bottle to your lips. “And how did we know that?”

The thoughts racing through your mind were no longer jumbled; everything was painstakingly clear, and when you spoke, the words were flowing so naturally you were fairly certain you were dreaming. “Because, Rafael.”

You paused, content. “You're home.”

__

[lurkymurker-deactivated20221030]

Euro Trip (part 8): my girl

Masterlist for the series can be found here!

Synopsis: Drunk words are sober thoughts.

Pairing: Rafe x Kook!reader, Topper x Kook!reader

Warnings: cursing, drinking, FLUFF (!!!!)

Word count: 5.0k

a/n: this is so disgustingly fluffy that's all im going to say

You felt suspended against the wooden table, goosebumps raising the skin of your knuckles where Rafe’s fingers had been. Swallowing several times, you peeled your eyes away from his figure, fixing your gaze on your sneakers, instead, willing them to keep your body from collapsing.

“Y/n…” Topper started, surveying your carefully. “We, uh, we shouldn’t let him go home alone, right?”

Turning, you nodded slowly, gripping at the table edge in an attempt to regain your composure. “Right. Of course.”

“Look.” He added, taking your hand in his gently. “Don’t worry, you’ll have time to talk about it tomorrow.”

You felt your entire body tense, Rafe’s words twisting around your chest and leaving it painfully tight. A part of you envied his flagrance; how easy he made it seem, laying all of his cards on the table. Because when you thought about your feelings for Rafe Cameron, all you felt was a binding sense of fear. Everything was happening entirely too quickly; the Earth was gaining speed as it spun on its axis, and you no longer wanted to spin with it.

“Talk about what?” You coughed, gulping down the last of your drink with a wince. “There’s nothing to talk about."

Topper frowned, his gaze fixed on the space above your head as he contemplated your words. Slowly, laboriously, his lips parted, realisation dawning on his features as he met your eye.

“No way.” He warned, his voice dangerously low. “You aren’t going to lie your way out of this one like you did with me.”

You felt your eyes widen, your words coming out in a broken splutter. “You fucking knew?”

“Y/n.” Topper laughed, though the sound was caustic to your ears. “Of course I fucking knew.”

“But you let me have it?” You argued, jutting out your bottom lip, voice quavered. “You didn’t even apologise, you –”

Topper blanched, drawing his hand away from yours instinctively. “Look. I’m sorry about that. I just thought, since we were both determined to put it behind us, that I’d leave it.”

“That was wrong of you.” You muttered, jaw clenched. “You should’ve been honest with me. We could’ve talked it out sooner.”

“Could say the same to you.” Topper challenged, quirking an eyebrow at your indignation. “Anyway, listen, this isn’t about us. Besides, what I said that night was clearly true, and I see that now–”

“It wasn’t.” You interrupted, heartbeat quickening as his words replayed in your mind, mocking you. “It can’t be.”

Topper sighed, threading his fingers through his hair. “Okay, whatever, let’s just go find Rafe, alright?”

You nodded, slowing your shaky breath as he guided you through the club. Thankfully, Rafe hadn’t managed to get too far, his broad figure walking sideways as he attempted to traverse the cobbled sidewalk.

“Rafael!” You called, a discreet, almost yearning desperation lacing your tone. “Cameron. Rafe. Stop.”

Rafe stumbled to a halt, his gait heavy as he turned on his heel. “Y/n?”

He cocked his head to one side, squinting slightly as you and Topper drew nearer. “You were in there. Why’re you here?”

“You’re not walking back alone, idiot.” You muttered, folding your arms across your chest before sidling in beside him. “C’mon.”

Rafe smiled dopily, bowing his head until you could smell the rum on his breath. “D’ya hear what I said before?”

You ignored him, groaning loudly as he leaned into your side. “How are you somehow more drunk than before?”

“S’hitting me properly now.” Rafe slurred, punching a fist against his breastbone repeatedly, attempting to match his heartbeat. “Right here.”

You rolled your eyes, palms splayed across his chest to steady him. “Okay, buddy. You’re crushing me, you know that?”

Rafe frowned, wide-eyed and blithe as he leaned backward. “No!”

He caught your wrists against his polo, his free hand snaking around your waist and tossing your over his shoulder in one fell swoop. “M’not meant to crush you!”

Pausing, he let out an ardent sigh, unbothered by the extra weight as he stumbled onward. “Meant to crush on you.”

“Rafael.” You warned, shivering slightly as his fingers danced along your bare thigh. “You mind putting me down?”

“Fine.” Rafe mumbled, loosening his grip on your waist so you could slide back down his torso. “Mm. Stay this close please.”

He exhaled, humming lowly as he pulled you flush against him. “Fuck sake, Y/n. You’ve no idea the effect you have o’me.”

“You guys know I’m right here, right?” Topper coughed, averting his gaze as he strode ahead. “Please fucking stop.”

You bit back a laugh, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you gazed up at Rafe. He was readjusting the bill of his backwards cap, his eyes flitting over your features, impossibly bright, as though committing this moment to memory.

Reluctantly, you stepped away, taking his hand in yours before guiding his figure forward.

“C’mon.” You encouraged, feeling your fingers entertwine. “You good, Rafe?”

“No.” Rafe responded, his mouth twitching mischievously. “Really nervous. Holding hands with a cute girl. She doesn’t like me though.”

You faltered, frowning slightly. “Ah.”

“She has this set of rules.” Rafe pressed on, tugging at your hand expectantly. “Think I’ve broken most. She doesn’t like that.”

“You don’t know that.” You muttered, eyes darting toward Topper’s figure nervously. “We can talk about it tomorrow, though.”

Rafe ignored you. He pressed a signet ring clad finger against your lips, his words laboured, teasingly slow. “Shhhhh. Is a secret.”

You swallowed, feeling the pad of Rafe’s finger trace the curve of your bottom lip, brushing against your jaw, moving down toward the nape of your neck. “Rafael.”

“Y/n.” He echoed, his eyes trained on your tinged lips, how impossibly soft they appeared in the dim light. “Shhhhh.”

“We’re here.” Topper announced, his voice raised awkwardly. “Come on.”

He shuffled toward Rafe’s figure, guiding an arm around his shoulder in an attempt to steady him. “C’mon, buddy.”

“Okay.” Rafe nodded, wasting no time pulling you into his other side. “C’mon.”

“Rafe.” You groaned, tugging at the arm he had wrapped around your neck. “Relax, I’m coming.”

“No man left behind.” Rafe responded sagely, dragging his feet along the hardwood floor, ignoring the way it squeaked. “Stay close, please.”

You rolled your eyes, sharing a knowing look with Topper as the three of you headed for the elevators. By the time you were standing in front of Rafe’s room, his head was lolling to one side dangerously, eyes half-closed, breath slowing as he leaned further into Topper’s chest.

“Bed.” He mumbled, stumbling through the doorway and toward his bedroom. “Now.”

“I, uh…”

Topper trailed off, gesticulating awkwardly. “You got this, right? I’m gonna go to my room.”

“Topper.” You hissed, narrowing your eyes. “No way.”

Topper lifted an eyebrow at your panicked expression, nodded pointedly at Rafe’s figure before turning. “Go.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperated, hearing the door close behind him with a punctuating click. “Fuck sake.”

Heading toward the large bedroom, you found Rafe collapsing onto his comforter with a sigh, frowning slightly as he jerked his head toward your figure. Pausing, he brought his hand out from under him, his eyes trained on your features as he patted the space beside him expectantly. “Here.”

You managed to disguise your laugh as a particularly animated cough, shaking your head slowly as you pushed Rafe backward, toward his pillow. “No way, Rafe. Go to bed.”

Rafe offered you a half shrug, a playful pout decorating his features. “Had to try.”

“Goodnight.”

“Wait.”

Rafe paused, his gaze impossibly intense as he reached for your hand. “Meant all of it, by the way. Y’know that right?”

You hesitated, taking in his earnest expression, the hopeful lilt to his tone. “I know.”

“Good.” Rafe grinned, gently thumbing at your soft skin. “My girl.”

“Wait, what?” Rafe gritted, his pupils flared. “What the fuck did you say?”

“Dude, relax.” James swallowed, tugging at his shirt collar nervously. “It’s not a big deal.”

Rafe let out a mirthless laugh, his clenched knuckle jerking against his side, daring James to continue. “What the fuck did you say, James? Repeat it.”

Noah stepped forward, offering James a tight lipped smile before applying a punishing grip on Rafe’s shoulder. “Dude, c’mon.”

Rafe scoffed, pulling away roughly. “Nah, bro. James was in the middle of telling me a funny little story about someone. Go on, James, where were we?”

James’ raised his arms in surrender, eyes darting around the room nervously. “Forget I said anything. I’m leaving.”

“Good idea.” Rafe snarled, his jaw painfully tight. “If I see you near her –”

Noah’s lips parted slightly, realisation dawning on his features as he turned toward Rafe’s figure. “Oh, fuck sake, this is about Y/n?”

“So?” Rafe scowled, exasperated. “You should’ve heard the way he was talking about her, knowing that she’s my girl –”

“Dude.” Noah interrupted, quirking an eyebrow at the admission. “She’s not your girl.”

“You know what I mean.” Rafe muttered, raking his fingers through his hair. “Come on. I need a drink.”

“Your girl?” You echoed weakly, swallowing your hitched breath. “New rule –”

Rafe furrowed his brow, removing his backwards cap to place it atop your head, instead. “No more rules. Broken enough.”

And with one last, longing sigh, he settled back onto the blue duvet, two strong arms raised in farewell. “G’night. My girl.”

Once you were certain he was asleep, encouraged by the low hum of his chest as it rose and fell, you tip-toed toward his figure and peeled his sneakers from his feet. Struggling against his weight, you managed to drag the comforter out from under him, tender as you placed it over him, tucked it around his shoulders, thread your fingers through his floppy hair.

It felt, in that moment, as though time wasn’t moving; it was unimportant, almost trivial, against the magnetic pull of Rafe Cameron. Slowly, you brushed his hair to one side, leaning down to press an ardent kiss on his forehead. And as you drew away, it was as though his subconscious had registered the gentle touch, curling toward you, forearm twitching as he took in a long, wistful breath.

You froze, watching his mouth move imperceptibly as he began talking in his sleep. With a wince, you managed to pull away, listening only to his words as they danced through the air, barely audible over the sound of distant traffic. And though you swore you couldn’t make them out, flicking off the bedside lamp and creeping back through the hallway, your breath hitched all the same as they registered, raising goosebumps along the nape of your neck. It was as though some part of you knew; could recognise that they were connected to you, somehow.

Because when Rafe Cameron called you his girl, you were sure that your heart had stopped. And when he drunkenly mumbled “I love you” (though, of course, you didn’t hear it; you couldn’t have), you didn’t think it would be capable of starting up again.

__

The three of you were set to ferry to Mykonos the next day, having planned an overnight stay at the Island before you left Greece for Spain.

Rafe Cameron, who had spent the better half of the morning regurgitating his stomach lining into a toilet bowl, was not looking forward to three hours on the water. And as he attempted to piece together the previous night’s events, forehead creases deepening with each, painfully intermittent grimace, he was gifted an entirely new reason not to look forward to the impending ferry. You.

Slowly, he forced himself from the edge of the toilet bowl, squinting down at his Cartier watch as he collapsed onto the bathroom floor. Having been rendered unconscious by the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed the night prior, he had managed to sleep through every alarm he had set, leaving him just enough time to shower and dress before it was time to go.

Groaning lowly, he managed to lug his suitcase into the hallway, trying to ignore the hangover that was settling in his forehead.

“Shut up.” Rafe muttered, wincing at the resonant sound of Topper’s laugh. “Too loud, Top.”

“Ah.” Topper nodded, pressing a calloused hand against Rafe’s forearm. “Of course.”

He cocked his head to one side, surveying Rafe’s scowl with amusement. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Rafe repeated, swallowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on.”

Topper rolled his eyes, gesturing toward your room pointedly. “Your extremely disgusting speech from last night.”

“Fuck.” Rafe groaned, readjusting his sunglasses against the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

He wiped a sweaty palm against his faded shorts, his voice low, meek. “Where is she?”

“No idea.” Topper shrugged, cocking his wrist until his watch was in view. “She’s usually the first one here.”

Rafe drew in a laboured breath, hopelessness sinking into his skin. “Fuck. I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?”

“No way.” Topper inclined, chewing at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “She’s probably just running late, or uh–”

He froze, eyes widening as he registered the turn of your door handle. Nodding Rafe forward, he clasped his hands behind his back, averting his gaze awkwardly as you entered the hallway.

“Sorry I’m late.” You started, dragging your suitcase toward their figures. “I, uh, slept in.”

Rafe paused, knitting his brow. “Uh, right. Listen–”

“Shall we go?” You interrupted, jamming your hands into your front pockets. “We’re going to be late.”

“Yeah, because of you.” Topper scoffed, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he strode toward the elevator. “Honestly, Y/n, not good enough.”

“Shut up, Top.” You laughed, keenly avoiding eye contact as you sidled past Rafe’s figure. “This is the first time I’ve been running behind. You, on the other hand–”

Rafe was slower to grab his suitcase, tuning out the low chatter of your banter as he followed you to the elevator. He had pre-empted how you might act, having laboured through every possible scenario, paced between his en suite and bedroom until the woollen carpet was worn thin.

But as he sidled into Topper’s side, punching a forefinger against the ground floor button, he couldn’t help the way his forehead creased, the frown lines etching his tired features. Because if there was one thing Rafe Cameron knew, it was that the opposite of love wasn’t hate. It was indifference. It was the deafening insouciance his father harboured, how starkly it contrasted his later mother’s love. And if you weren’t even willing to scold his indiscretion, resigned instead, to pretending as though nothing had happened, he was certain he would fold in on himself, cringing, his worst suspicions confirmed. Indifference.

Rafe Cameron was feeling extremely ill. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the hangover that was swirling in his gut.

“Rafe?” You repeated, bringing him out of his reverie. “Dude, c’mon, ferry terminal is this way.”

Rafe blanched, nodding slowly as he headed for your figure. The early morning sun was illuminating your faded freckles, dancing against the frizz of your tousled locks as it dipped in and out of white clouds.

“Hangover.” Rafe offered, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m in a bad state.”

You quirked an eyebrow at his tired features, shaking your head bemusedly. “You were even worse last night.”

Rafe swallowed several times, his eyes following Topper’s figure toward the ticket stand. “Yeah, about that–”

“Later.” You interrupted, eyes wide, comforting. “When we’re sitting.”

“Right.” Rafe responded, furrowing his brow momentarily. “Wait, you remember?”

You halted, inclining your head slightly. “What? Of course, I remember.”

“I just mean…”

Rafe trailed off, gesticulating helplessly. “Before, in the hallway, you were being weird. Avoiding me?”

“Oh, that.” You swallowed, reddening under his gaze. “Sorry.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Topper hissed, pulling at your shoulder roughly as you strode ahead. “Dude, why are you acting weird?”

“He’s all spaced out!” You argued, squeezing your eyes shut frustratedly. “Maybe he doesn’t want to talk.”

“That’s because he’s hungover.”

“And.” Topper added, narrowing his eyes, his tone deliberate. “Because you didn’t even look at him when you came out of your room. What was that about?”

You bowed your head helplessly, recalling the ten minutes you had spent pacing in front of your room door, seriously contemplating whether jumping out of the window was a viable exit option. “I was nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” Topper scoffed, pausing to survey your expression. “He’s the one that said all the silly shi–”

Topper faltered, his eyes widening. “Wait. No fucking way.”

“What?” You responded, eyes darting behind you nervously. “What is it? Is it my hair? Fuck, I knew I should’ve straightened the back, Rafe is going to think–”

“Dude.” Topper interrupted, pressing his hands against your shoulders. “No way. I mean, I knew you were kind of catching feelings, but no way.”

He paused, leaning backward, forcing you to face him. “You actually really like him, huh? You’re actually serious serious about this?”

“Shut up!” You hissed, swatting at his hands. “Shut the fuck up. He’s going to hear you.”

Topper ignored you, whistling lowly as he shook his head. “Holy shit. You and Cameron for real, huh? And here I thought it was just one embarrassing hook-up.”

He paused, eyes twinkling, enjoying the way you squirmed at his words. “The amount of times I told him it was practically impossible… I mean, I really never thought I’d see the day–”

“Yeah, because you were too far up your own ass.” You retorted, poking your tongue out at him as he laughed. “Shut up, alright? I don’t know how I feel.”

“I do, though.” Topper responded easily, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t believe Kelce was right. That motherfucker knew what was going on and he wasn’t even here to witness it.”

“Okay look.” He continued, registering the way you paled. “Rafe is head-over-heels in–”

“Yeah, yeah.” You dismissed, feeling the colour return to your cheeks. “Go fucking get the tickets you idiot.”

Topper laughed, offering you a mock salute as he strode toward the ticket stall. Giving the leggy blonde manning the stall a fleeting once-over, he jerked his head back toward you, fanning at his face dramatically as you flipped him off.

“No, no.” Rafe proffered, waving his hand in the air. “Don’t be sorry. I should be the one saying sorry, getting so drunk last night.”

“We’re even now.” You grinned, nodding him toward the terminal. “Don’t worry about it.”

Rafe offered you a sheepish, half-smile, feeling his insides warm as he took in your softened expression. “Yeah. Even.”

“Oi, it’s going to leave without you!” Topper called, waggling his eyebrows as the blonde beside him giggled. “Hurry the fuck up.”

“He’s early to something one time.” You scorned, rolling your eyes as you glanced up at Rafe. “Honestly.”

Once adequately seated (with coffees in hand, courtesy of the ticketer Topper had so generously woo-ed), you reached down to grab a book from the front pocket of your bag, acutely aware of Topper’s eyes boring into the back of your neck.

“Remember how you told me you would let me borrow your book, Y/n?” Topper questioned sharply, his teeth gritted as he stood. “I’d love to have it now, actually.”

You frowned, turning toward him, bewildered. “What? You don’t read–”

“I think I’ll go sit outside with it.” Topper continued, snatching it from your grasp. “Beautiful day out. See you guys.”

Fixing you with one last, pointed glare, Topper straightened, the book tucked under his armpit as he disappeared into the outdoor area.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you folded your hands in your lap, eyes remaining trained on them as you spoke. “Right.”

Rafe furrowed his brow, pressing his fingers against his temple in an attempt to relieve his headache. “Listen, if you don’t wanna talk about it…”

He trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. “…I mean, I get it. We can just act like it didn’t happen, we’re only here for one more week, and then we’ll–”

“I don’t want that to be the end, though.” You interrupted, your voice impossibly weak. “Of, uh, us hanging out.”

“So.” You continued, tone raised slightly, a languid attempt to appear nonchalant. “Maybe we should talk it out. Uh, besides, we’ll probably see each other at parties and stuff, and you’re at the same college as Topper and Kelce and I’ll probably come to visit, and we might bump into each other –”

You were rambling now, mouth moving at its own accord as a million thoughts raced through your mind. It was only as Rafe placed his hand atop yours, his signet ring eliciting a sharp exhale, that you forced yourself to stop, swallowing slightly before gazing up at him. “Sorry. Nervous.”

“Nervous?” Rafe repeated, grinning. “I make you nervous?”

“Shut up, Rafael.” You muttered, cheeks reddened as you recalled the kiss you had shared in his hotel room. “I think we’ve already established that you do.”

“Of course.” Rafe nodded sagely, thumbing at your knuckles, gentle and slow. “The kiss.”

You grimaced, burying your head in your hands. “Can we get back on topic?”

Rafe frowned, reaching down to raise your chin. “Okay. From the start.”

He drew in a deep breath, ignoring the way his hangover rung through his ears. “Listen. What I said, at dinner, there was no excuse for that, okay? I was riled up – wouldn’t be the first time, when it comes to you – and I was being shitty. It wasn’t okay, at all.”

“But you have to know.” Rafe pressed on, bowing his head to eye level, his expression earnest. “That… fuck. I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/n. Long enough that it makes me do stupid things, say stupid things, and, I mean, the way you make me feel…”

He trailed off, paling. “…I don’t deserve that feeling. At all.”

You frowned, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s not true, Rafe.”

“Look.” You continued, feeling small. “I’m not going to pretend like it didn’t hurt. You have no idea how intimidating the idea of you is, Rafe.”

“The idea of me?” Rafe repeated, sidling closer as he surveyed your features. “What do you mean?”

You removed your hand from his grasp, using it to thread your fingers through your curls. “I mean… you’re the Rafe Cameron, you know? Why me? It makes no sense.”

“Why you?”

Rafe wanted to laugh. He couldn’t believe you were asking him that question; he had thought the answer was painfully obvious, written in the way his heart stopped when you were close, the magnetic pull of your gentle touch. “Are you kidding me, Y/n?”

“I’m not finished.” You frowned, pausing momentarily to gather your thoughts. “You also had a reputation all through high school. I mean, every girl in our class was falling at your feet, and you enjoyed it –”

“I didn’t.” Rafe interrupted, his voice soft. “I was too busy pining for someone else.”

You faltered, feeling enervated. “And… your little comments, I didn’t know if they were real, I mean, no one took them seriously –”

“Then they weren’t paying enough attention.”

Rafe combed his fingers through his hair, letting out a laboured breath. “They were serious. Always. You’re my girl.”

“I mean.” Rafe corrected, shaking his head awkwardly. “The girl for me.”

“No.” You responded, flushing slightly, feeling giddy. “Your girl.”

Rafe’s lips parted slowly, gazing down at you as you met his eye. “My girl?”

“Look.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re not the only one in the wrong here. I need you to know that I’m not ashamed to have feelings for you, and I’m sorry that you felt like I was. I was just scared. Of getting hurt.”

“And I hurt you.” Rafe finished, wincing. “I know, and I know I don’t deserve you, at all–”

“Stop.” You frowned, teasing your fingers through his floppy hair, comforting him more than you knew. “Why do you keep saying that?”

Rafe swallowed. “You’re just…”

He trailed off, his father’s words racing through his mind, jumbled, looming over every thought. “…I rarely get the good things. In life, I mean.”

“You deserve the good things, Rafe.” You murmured, brow furrowed. “And I forgive you, for everything. It wasn’t just you, it was me too, I said some stupid things. And I think after it went down, I kind of wallowed in it, enjoying how shitty the situation made me feel.”

“I get it.”

“And it meant that I ignored you, and the situation, and us.” You laboured, eyes squeezed shut. “It was like self-sabotage, I just kept thinking, he doesn’t even care, I was right about him, and then I nearly started believing it, and –”

“I cared.” Rafe swallowed, cringing. “I cared so much it hurt. But I didn’t want to ruin the week, and you were enjoying your time with Top–”

“Trying to.” You corrected, frowning. “Failing.”

“Crept up on me, I think.” You continued, flushing slightly under Rafe’s fervent gaze. “My feelings. And when I realised, they scared me. But that’s unfair on you.”

Rafe cocked his head to one side, willing you to keep going. “And what are they? Your feelings?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, feeling cheeky. “Broken a few rules.”

“Not more than me, I’m sure.” Rafe responded quickly, his gaze dizzying enough to surpass Rule #1. “Let’s see… broken #1, #3 far too many times, #4, #5 before we even came on this trip –”

“Stop.” You admonished, swatting a hand against his chest. “You don’t mean that.”

Rafe ignored you. He caught your wrist against his chest, pressing it against his lips, leaving you light-headed. “Which ones have you broken?”

“Rafael.” You started, a small smile tugging at your lips. “A few.”

“Might have to change them, too.” You added thoughtfully, looking past him, toward the Aegean Sea. “Don’t mind the look, nor the sweetheart, douchebag comments can stay I guess, and Rule #5 is…”

You trailed off slowly, eyes wide as they met Rafe’s. “…under construction.”

“Thank fuck.” Rafe groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Nevermind.” You responded, crinkling your nose playfully. “Rule #4 reinstated.”

“Too late.”

Rafe bowed his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “My fucking girl.”

“Rafael.” You hissed, though you felt your eyes close, leaning into his touch. “Stop.”

“No.” Rafe hummed, pulling you impossibly closer. “You know, I’ve never actually done it on a ferry before –”

“Oh my god.” You laughed, the words rolling off your tongue instinctively. “Rule number #3.”

“Doesn’t exist.” Rafe responded with twinkling eyes, cocking his head to one side. “Can you re-wear that dress you wore in Florence? I want to slide those tiny little straps off myself when I–”

“Rafe.” You gawked, swatting at his roaming hands. “You’re enjoying this, huh?”

Rafe nodded, his tongue pressed against his cheek. “I’ve been biting my tongue for far too long, baby.”

“Baby?” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “That’s new. And you’ve hardly been biting your tongue, there’s been a comment a day from you –”

“And ten in my head.” Rafe interrupted, smirking cheekily. “Like when I was putting sunscreen on your back that one time, are you fucking kidding me–”

It was Topper who interrupted Rafe, this time, gagging violently as he neared his seat. “Ew, what the fuck have I walked into?”

He waggled his eyebrows at your reddened features, sidling into the seat behind you with a wink. “Sorted it out, huh?”

“Shut up, Top.” You admonished, though your tone appeared rather weak, compared to his. “Don’t start.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Topper dismissed airily, waving his hand in the air. “Totally saw it coming, by the way –”

“No, you fucking didn’t.” You and Rafe exclaimed in unison, grinning at each other as you registered Topper’s wince.

Satisfied by the half shrug he sent your way, you turned in your seat, leaning into Rafe’s bicep as the ferry drew further North.

“So.” You mused, fiddling with the signet ring on his finger. “What now?”

“I don’t know about you.” Rafe responded, his mouth twitching as he closed his eyes. “But I’m fucking hungover.”

“Ah, I forget.” You nodded knowingly, twisting it off his finger and sliding it onto your thumb. “You got white girl wasted and professed your undying love for me.”

“Careful, cheeky.” Rafe warned, though the corners of his mouth quirked, endeared by the statement. “Wasn’t that special. Wasn’t the first time, either.”

You frowned, thumbing at his roughened knuckles. “What?”

“Come on.” He responded, opening one eye exasperatedly. “Senior year?”

Rafe squinted down at his phone screen, barely able to make out the microphone button as he gave it a purposeful punch.

“Y/n.” He slurred, his voice lowered conspiratorially. “Shhhh. I’m drunk.”

“Listen, was thinking.” He continued, bringing his beer can to his lips, missing it by several centimeters. “When Heath Ledger said, I fell for her, at the end of that movie I really felt that.”

“Was a good movie. I even rewatched it for you.” Rafe continued, pausing momentarily, his eyes widening. “We should rewatch it. Foreverrrrrrr.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes wide, solemn. “And when he sang –”

Rafe paused, taking in a deep breath before launching into song, his voice hilariously off-beat. “I looooveeee youuuuu babyyyyy, and if it’s quite allllriighhhttt, I need youuuu, baby –”

“Dude.” Noah laughed, snatching the phone from his grasp. “Holy fuck, how much did you drink?”

He shook his head bemusedly, panic transforming his features as he registered the voice message on Rafe’s phone. “Rafe, you are fucking dumbass.”

“Oh my god.” You bit back a laugh, realisation dawning on your features. “That doesn’t count.”

“You know I know that movie by heart now, right?”

“I didn’t know you liked it that much!”

Rafe paused, brushing his lips against your temple, impossibly gentle. “You like it that much.”

“Yeah.” You frowned, cocking your head to one side. “So?”

“So.” Rafe responded, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I like it that much.”

He paused, the gentle hush of distant waves teasing out the rest of his words. “I’m not me, without you.”

__

@yourinstagram replied to your story: Rafael. you need to stop reposting my instagram posts onto your story

@therafecameron: but why

@yourinstagram: the last one was captioned mommy? Sorry. Mommy? sorry. Mommy, sorry. mommy? sorry

@therafecameron: what's your point

[slutforapsycho]

Liar

Summary: One too many nights in between the sheets with Rafe and JJ, the second time he had to save you and a kiss or two leaves you even more confused about your feelings for the handsome blonde boy that just so happens to be your boyfriend’s partner.

mob!jj x reader x mob!rafe fluff and angst (Takes place before Worth It and Consequences. I’ll link those here when I’m finished with them.) PSA: This is my work and you do not have my permission nor do you have the right to claim it as your own. With that being said, reblogs are always appreciated. :)

WARNINGS: unconsensual touching; attempted kidnapping; mentions drugs

With JJ around a lot more these days, you had more opportunities to go out. If you needed to go to the grocery store or run some errands and Rafe wasn’t around sometimes JJ was free, so you often used that to your advantage. You were unbelievably grateful when Rafe came up with the idea one afternoon when he needed to meet with his dad. He frowned when you told him you ran out of your mood stabilizers, but immediately suggested you take JJ instead. Ever since then, when Rafe wasn’t your body guard in public, JJ was.

Today was no different. You had a few things to do and you recruited JJ to tag along. He was more than happy to oblige and didn’t even complain when you dragged him into one of your “girly stores” as the boys liked to call them.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, a man had been following you all day. He was an enemy of Rafe’s. Asher Ridic. The son of Ward’s greatest rival, Damon Ridic. Next to the Cameron’s, the Ridic empire was one of the strongest in the crime industry. The father son duo was known to be as ruthless if not more than Rafe and Ward. With that being said, they always seemed to be more reckless and, often times, quite predictable, leaving the Cameron’s with the upper hand. Today, however, wasn’t one of those days.

Asher followed you and JJ all day. Store to store, somehow blending in enough to not seem suspicious. It took all day, but he was committed. Ever since his dad caught sight of you and Rafe together, you had been their ideal target, but they never seemed to get you alone and anytime they tried to follow you guys home, they somehow always got lost. Needless to say…he wasn’t gonna lose you this time.

Eventually, you and JJ stopped to get something to eat. By the time you were done, JJ was already on his second refill, but swore he didn’t have to go to the bathroom, so you continued on to complete your other errands. You were getting ready to tell JJ this was the last store, but he piped up before you had the chance.

“Are we almost done Angel? I’m getting tired. You wore me out last night.”, he said, winking at you before adding, “Plus…I kind of have to pee now.”, he finished, laughing when you giggled, shyly, and shook your head.

“I told you to go before we left Burger King.”, you said, shoving his shoulder lightly with your own. JJ stared at you for a moment. Eyes filled with love and adoration. You never caught on, which gave him a few extra seconds to study your face before he chuckled out a reply.

“That was before I finished my second sweet tea.”, he said, heart fluttering at the sound of your laugh hitting his ears again. Oh how he loved that laugh…

“Well then it’s your lucky day. We’re heading into our last store and I know there’s a bathroom in here.”, you said, opening the door to your favorite antique shop. When you walked in, you pointed JJ in the direction of the bathroom and he made you promise to stay right in front of the door to wait for him, but it was your favorite store and something immediately caught your eye. You looked at the bathroom door before making your way over to the cute knick knacks sitting a few feet away. Besides, the shelf was only a couple steps from the men’s bathroom and JJ said he’d only be a minute.

Needless to say, after you made it to the dainty, little trinkets some more peaked your interest a few more feet away and somehow you eventually ended up on the opposite end of the shop…conveniently, where Asher was waiting to make his move. He didn’t have time to waste, so he quickly made his way over to you and pretended like he was asking you a question about the store.

“Miss, do you know where I can find some old mason jars in here? I collect them.”, he said, smiling in your face as if he wasn’t getting ready to pull a knife on you. The sudden noise startled you and made you realize how far away you were from the bathroom. You turned around to face the stranger and nervously smiled back.

“Uh, yeah. I think they’re over here.”, you said, pointing behind him to a shelf closer to the door. You started walking towards it, but then you felt something on your back and the man was suddenly whispering in your ear.

“You move and this knife is going straight in your gut. Got it?”, he said, leading you to the door as you nodded in agreement, silently cursing yourself for wandering away from the bathroom door. Rafe had always warned you that something like this might happen. That’s why he never let you leave the house alone or out of his sight for even a few moments. He had done everything he could to prevent this from happening and you knew he’d blame JJ, but this one…was on you.

Once you were out of the shop, he led you down an alleyway on the side of the building. He pushed you into the wall behind a dumpster, so that nobody would see the two of you and held the knife to your throat.

“You make a sound and your dead. Understand?”, Asher asked, to which you slowly nodded. “Good girl.”, he finished, with a strange smile on his face. Usually, you would’ve loved being called a good girl, but it felt wrong coming from his lips and not JJ or Rafe’s. More than wrong. It felt disgusting.

“I get why Rafe likes you so much. You’re a pretty little thing aren’t ya? I just might keep you for myself.”, he said, bring the knife up to lightly slide it down your cheek. Another thing that would turn you on…if Rafe was the one holding it. You shook your head “no”, a tear slipping from your eye and whispered a reply.

“Please-“, you started, but were cut off by his knife being pressed back to your throat.

“Now, I thought you understood the directions. I’m talking, you’re listening.”, he said, digging the knife harder into your throat. You swore if you were to breathe, it would’ve drawn blood.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours hmm? I seen his little side kick with you, but no Rafe. What kind of guy does that? Maybe if he really cared he’d make sure you were safe himself.”, he spat out, trying to get into your head, but it wasn’t going to work. His words had little to no effect on you. You knew how Rafe felt about you and some random thug wasn’t going to make you doubt that. It didn’t stop you from being scared of what this maniac was capable of.

“Now, how about I take you out of this alley, you tell me everything I want to know, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you live and take real good care of you. How’s that sound sweetheart?”, he asked, with a nasty and suggestive smile, but before he could continue, a different, more familiar voice interrupted him.

“Yeah I don’t think that’s gonna happen dipfuck.”, JJ said from beside the two of you. Asher quickly pulled you to the middle of the alley to face JJ with the knife on your throat. All the while JJ, just as quickly, grabbed his gun and pointed it at him. You would’ve been scared that he would accidentally shoot you if you didn’t know any better, but JJ was a perfect shot and when you seen his gun, all you felt was relief. Leave it to J to bring a gun to a knife fight…I will forever be grateful for that handsome lunatic.

Asher let out an eerie laugh and pressed the knife a little harder into your throat making JJ grit his teeth.

“You move and she’s dead Maybank. Choose wisely.”, he said, holding you tight against his chest while keeping the knife steady and firm.

“Alright, well you so much as hurt a hair on her head and YOU’RE dead. How’s that sound?”, JJ said, keeping the gun pointed directly at him. Asher just laughed again and started swaying the two of you side to side. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, which made you grimace and JJ clench his jaw.

“Honestly, I think I’m just gonna take her with me. You know what they say, finders keepers losers, well…lose.”, he said, snickering when JJ rolled his eyes.

“Good luck with that.”, he said, steadying his gun, making Asher tighten the knife. You knew there would be a mark from that one, but you also knew that he would pay for it later.

“Oh yeah, I’m so scared Maybank. I think you and I both know who has the upper hand here.”, he said, bringing his free hand up to grip your hair and yank it back. With your face tilted towards the sky, he traced your jaw with the knife and brought it to your collarbone. Unbeknownst to him though, Asher had made a mistake.

When he had shuffled you to the side, he left JJ with a clear shot of his arm. As soon as the knife was far enough away from your throat, JJ shot him twice. Once in the shoulder and once a little lower on his bicep. The knife instantly dropped from his hand and you quickly ran over to JJ, tucking yourself behind him and clinging to his shirt. He stepped back towards you, but never took his eyes off Asher. He was wounded, clutching his arm in pain, knife long forgotten about, but JJ wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t a threat anymore and he couldn’t take any chances…not with you. He grabbed your hand and lightly pulled you behind himself. Once he was to Asher’s body, JJ kicked the knife away, leaned down and put the gun to his head.

“If you touch her ever again, I’ll cut off your limbs one by one and feed them to you. Choose wisely.”, he said, mocking Asher’s previous words before straightening himself out once more and turning around to usher you to the car. Before the two of you could make it out of the alleyway, Asher laughed and made a comment back to JJ.

“Damn Maybank. Gone soft for Rafe’s girl. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s slutting herself out for the both of y-.”, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence because as soon as he heard the word “slut”, JJ seen red, stomped over to him and kicked him as hard as he could in the rib cage, no doubt breaking some bones. Asher groaned loudly and JJ leaned down to speak to him again.

“Watch your fucking mouth, cunt.”, he said, before clocking Asher across the face with the butt of his gun. That was enough to knock him unconscious, but JJ couldn’t stop there. He propped Asher up against the side of the building and started wailing on him. His head swung side to side with each punch JJ landed to his face. You watched in surprise and shock as Ashers face slowly became bloodied and bruised. It was only for a second or two, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Or talk. Or do anything. You quickly snapped out of it once you heard voices from the street. If anyone found you right now JJ would go to jail and that would be a bigger problem than it was worth, so you made your way over to him and tried to start reasoning with him.

“Um…J? I think we should go.”, you said, not too loud, but surely not a whisper. However, JJ didn’t hear you. He could barely even see, that’s how angry he was. His vision was black and his ears were ringing. This guy had just basically called you a slut. He wasn’t gonna let him get away with that. No one called his girl a slut…except him…and Rafe.

You gave JJ a few seconds to stop hitting Asher, but he never did, which made you antsy. People were bound to come down this alley eventually and you couldn’t risk anyone taking JJ away…especially for murder.

“J, come on we gotta go. It’s not worth it.”, you said a little louder, making your way over to him as you spoke. He still couldn’t hear you over the sound of Asher’s voice in his head. “She’s probably slutting herself out for the both of you.” Fucking prick.

Meanwhile, you were in full panic mode. JJ clearly wasn’t worried about getting caught right now, but that was the only thing on your mind. You couldn’t care less about Asher’s bitch ass. If you weren’t in public, you would’ve just let him beat that asshole to a pulp, but you were in public and you couldn’t risk JJ doing time for this. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“JJ stop!”, you yelled. “We need to fucking go…now!”, you said, a little quieter, but just as stern. That did the trick. JJ quickly snapped his head to look at you. You softened your gaze at the sight of his flushed face and blown out baby blues. He was so worked up all because some nobody called you a slut and you were flattered to say the least, but mostly shocked. Sure, you knew JJ cared for you, but you didn’t expect him to almost kill somebody for you. In its own sick, twisted way…it was really sweet…and kind of hot…

He pushed Asher against the dumpster, so that he would be hidden a bit better and made his way over to you. You couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t come too close and sort of looked like a kicked puppy, but you didn’t mention it.

He didn’t say anything on the way back to the car, just made sure that you were slightly in front of him the whole time so that he could ensure your safety. Once you were there, he opened your door for you and you quietly thanked him, surprised when he didn’t respond.

When JJ got in the driver’s seat, tension filled the air. You couldn’t quite describe it, but all you knew was he was being weird and it was making you uneasy. Determined to get to the bottom of it, you came up with an idea that you knew would work.

“J? What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”, you asked, knowing the answer, but playing along with your plan. He quickly looked over at you for a second in shock, before fixing his gaze back to the road.

“Of course not. I thought you were mad at me.”, he said, confused at your question.

“Why would I be mad at you?”, you asked, wondering what was going on in his head. He’d just saved your life and you weren’t quite understanding how you could possibly be mad about that. JJ just shrugged at your question and quickly deflected it.

“You first.”, he said, not wanting to feel so vulnerable. You sighed and looked out the window.

“I mean, you asked me to stay by the bathroom and I wandered off. This one’s on me.”, you said, surprised when JJ let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, but that’s not your fault. He was probably following us for awhile and how were you supposed to know that some scumbag was stalking us all day? If anything, this one’s on me. I should’ve paid more attention.”, he said, gripping the wheel a little tighter at the thought of his carelessness.

“Is that why you thought I was mad at you? JJ you’re my personal body guard everywhere we go and I am so thankful for that. You had to pee. God forbid. Besides you saved me…again.”, you said, referring to how you and JJ met, earning a small chuckle from him that, in turn, made you smile. When you turned to look out the window again, you noticed that you were almost home, but you weren’t ready to go quite yet, so you quickly spoke up. “Hey can we stop somewhere before we go home? I’m not ready to be all cooped up again.”, you asked, looking over to him with hopeful eyes as if you didn’t already know his answer.

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever you want.”, he said, smiling over at you when you clapped lightly in excitement. You gave him directions to a lake about 5 minutes away from the house you shared with Rafe and got out as soon as the car was in park. You rushed over to JJ’s side of the car and sent him a shy smile through the window. He shook his head and chuckled at you, before taking the keys out of the ignition.

As soon as the door was open, you were dragging him down a path by his hand, never taking time to notice the blush that crept on his face when your skin met his.

The path was steep and JJ could tell you were leading him up a hill, but when the two of you got to the top, he was shocked. From the top of the incline, you two had a perfect view of the entire lake. The sun was glistening through the trees and hitting the water, making the scene look even more ethereal. He was absolutely amazed at the sight before him, but when JJ looked over to ask you how you had found this place, his heart skipped a few beats. You were just standing there with a tender smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful scenery before you, but the only beauty he could appreciate was yours. You were perfect to him. The way your eyes sparkled as you drank in your surroundings. The way your hair was slightly messy from the wind. The way your face lit up the longer you two stood there. Damn…I knew I was into her, but I didn’t think I was in love.

When you finally looked over to him, he forgot what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t stop staring at you. He was sure he’d never seen something or someone so beautiful before. Between the view and the way you glowed at the sight of it, JJ found himself completely entranced by you. Unbeknownst to him though, his intense gaze quickly started making you nervous.

“What?”, you asked, trying to gauge the look in his eyes. JJ just smiled and shook his head, looking away from you to soak in the scenery once more. His reaction made you close the gap between the two of you and lightly shove him with a scoff.

“Whattt?”, you asked again with a little pout, but smiling when he stumbled back a bit. JJ moved closer to you until he was directly in front of you. If he had stepped any closer your chests would’ve been touching, but you wouldn’t of cared. You liked being close to JJ. It wasn’t until he moved his hand to tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear that you got nervous again and his next words didn’t help.

“You just look stunning. Especially here, ya know? You’re practically sparkling sweetheart and it’s fucking mesmerizing.”, he said, moving his hand from your hair to caress your cheek. You felt your face heat up at his words and your heart beat a little faster when he leaned closer to you.

“Wh-What are y-you doing J?”, you muttered out. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away, tell him that your relationship was purely a sexual one, but your heart wouldn’t let you tell that lie.

“Not anything you don’t want me to do Angel.”, he whispered back, slowly getting closer to your face as his eyes flicked between your own and your lips. “Tell me to stop.”, he said, challenging you in a flirty manner, but your head was too foggy to say much of anything. Once JJ’s nose was touching yours you closed your eyes and let out a sigh. The feeling of his breath on your lips almost made you lean in, but guilt started creeping it’s way inside of you, so you pressed your hands against his chest. You didn’t put in any effort to push him away, but it made him stop moving closer. He instantly dropped his spare hand to rest on your waist as he lightly rubbed circles into the skin of your cheek.

“Just tell me to stop.”, JJ huffed out, wanting more than anything to just close the distance between your lips, but he also wanted to respect you.

When you didn’t say anything and you didn’t push him away, JJ moved slightly closer to you making his lips brush across yours ever so lightly that it made your breath hitch in your throat. He gave you a few more seconds to let you turn him down before softly kissing you. You instantly moved your hands to his hair and he dropped his other hand down to hold your waist. The two of you were already familiar with each other, having kissed dozens of times, but this was different. You couldn’t put your finger on it for a second, too wrapped up in the man in front of you to think of anything else, but then it dawned on you. This was the first time that you had ever kissed JJ outside of the bedroom. The first time that you had ever kissed him without the promise of sex afterwards. It was still passionate, but it was special in a way that you couldn’t even describe. I could kiss him this way for hours, you thought, until Rafe popped into your head. He had always made it clear that the relationship between you and JJ was strictly a sexual one, but only when he was around. When you and JJ were alone, you were supposed to act like you were “just friends”. As if you hadn’t seen each other naked or done…other things a billion times.

“JJ’s not your boyfriend. No sense acting like he is. You’re mine.”, Rafe had said, before proving it to you by fucking you on the kitchen counter…and then again on the couch…and then again in front of your bedroom mirror. Needless to say, you were made completely aware of the fact that you and JJ were just supposed to be “friends with benefits”, yet here you were, breaking Rafe’s rules. As the feeling of guilt slowly crept over you, you found yourself pulling away from JJ just enough to speak to him without making your lips touch again. You kept your eyes closed and your forehead against his, voice coming out barely above a whisper.

“JJ, we can’t.”, you breathed out into the thick air that sat between the two of you. It wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t used to getting what you wanted anyway and it was pretty much a catch 22 in the first place. If you continued breaking the rules with JJ, you would feel like you’re betraying Rafe, but on the other hand, part of you longed to defy Rafe’s wishes, just sit in JJ’s arms for hours and get to know him better. It felt wrong to you, being in love with two men, but in some weird way, it also felt right.

“Why? I know you want me and I want you…so bad.”, he whispered back, stepping the slightest bit closer to you, so that your lips were barely touching once again. You leaned into him more and almost kissed him, but you tilted your head down so that your noses were still touching, but your lips were not.

“You know why.”, you said, softly kissing his cheek, but that just upset him, making JJ pull away from you completely. Your eyes immediately shot open to see him running his fingers through his hair and lightly shaking his head, before snapping at you.

“See that’s what I’m talking about. You’re not just lying to me and Rafe, you’re lying to yourself too.” …Ouch

“J, plea-.”, you started, but JJ quickly cut you off.

“No. Okay. Just no, Y/N. I’ve tried to understand, you know, I get it. You love Rafe. But I know what rests beneath those lies that you tell yourself to help you sleep at night. I know that you love me too. I can see it in your eyes. You might have Rafe fooled and maybe even yourself, but not me.”, he said, before turning around and walking back to the car.

You stood in shock for a few moments, dazed by the rollercoaster of emotions that you had to endure for the entire day, but you didn’t want to lose JJ so you let your feet carry you back down the path. All that you could think of on the way down was what he had said to you and it wasn’t until you reached the car that you realized something strange.

Almost getting kidnapped wasn’t nearly as scary as the thought of losing JJ over a few baseless lies. What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

Sidenote: ending sucks as always BUT I have lots of fics coming to make up for that it just might take me a little while to finish them, but they’re on the way. that includes the requests I’ve gotten <3

tagging: @maybankforlife @halsmultibitch @pixelated-pogues

[mrs-cameron]

can’t believe i dodged the bullet of finding nate jacobs attractive only to end up thirsting over rafe fucking cameron

[pinkwhorecrux-deactivated202103]

that scene in order of the phoenix where fred and george are comforting the little boy after umbridge made them all use the quills that cut their hands 🥺🥺🥺

[jessasackler]

#started from the bottom now we here

[bergsbergcountysheriff]

anyone else just kinda . put off hyperfixations. like yeah i haven’t seen/read/listened to that yet but i will soon and i will become obsessed with it just give me another couple weeks lol

[whitepeopletwitter]

[richietoaster]

What a dumb bitch

[sanctuarytrin]

When you read a fic for smut and it turns out to be well written with a good plot.