A fun hobby I have is remembering Roman had phone sex with Gerri on his first night of management training and that training went on for six weeks and we’ll never really know how many times they had phone sex after that but you can bet your danish it was a lot because both them are gonna risk it for the biscuit
summary: a year after you went out for drinks with rafe cameron, you’re building a life together.
pairing: rafe x reader
warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of sex
a/n: i’m not crying ur crying!!! for anyone who’s following along with the blurbs: i’m probably going to go back and fill in some things that take place during the time skip between part 12 and this, but this is really how i wanted to end the story for now because i always pictured it ending like this. so i hope you like it! probably going to take a tumblr break after this and focus on the shit i have going on in my life rn, so if i don’t get to any asks/comments on this right away that’s why! can't wait to read them when i get back, love youuu
my writing
and make a new world together, babe
JUNE
you’re absolutely sure he doesn’t know this time?
Um… I’d say pretty sure
graham. i swear to god
We’ve been really busy with grad shit, I promise he’ll be surprised! He acts a certain way whenever he knows you’re coming
Nora agrees with me
and he hasn’t been acting that way?
Nope. Been kinda mopey since he came back from California actually
fuck i love him
okay thanks! let me know if anything changes
Sure thing. See you soon Y/n/n
You finally put your phone in airplane mode, slipping it into your bag and trying to take a deep breath and relax. You double-checked that your heels were still in your bag, ready to be switched into once you were in the car on the way to Rafe’s ceremony.
It’d been quite the journey to this point. You, Davis, and McCall had all overslept that morning, getting a little too wrapped up in the previous night’s graduation festivities. Your friends had been packing up and trickling out of your college town in a steady stream since graduation last weekend, but last night was the big hurrah with your core group before your senior trips and new jobs took you all in separate directions, much like the rest of your lives from that point.
You’d all sleepily stumbled into the car that morning, you begging McCall to push the speed limit in her Tesla while you attempted to sort your carry-on bag out in the backseat. They’d dropped you off with cheek kisses and promises to see you in Hawaii the next day, Davis sneaking a few condoms into your purse that were very embarrassing to watch the TSA agents sort through when a stray bottle of primer had flagged you for inspection.
But you were here, in the first-class seat paid for by none other than Ward Cameron, the dress you’d shimmied into in the last plane’s bathroom not nearly as wrinkled as you’d expected, your sneakers laced tightly (after serving you well when you had to book it through the Denver airport to make your connecting flight). You were on the plane, you were headed to Georgia, you were going to make it to Rafe’s graduation ceremony just in time.
And he had no idea.
You hadn’t originally planned to come at all. Timing wasn’t on your side, because your graduation trip that you’d booked months ago started the exact day of his ceremony.
When Rafe told you his date, you hadn’t even blinked, already setting a reminder to tell Davis his travel agent would need to book you a different flight for the day after. But your boyfriend had tugged your phone out of your hand immediately, using his height advantage to hold it out if your reach.
“No. Baby, we talked about this. We wanted to enjoy our last months of college separately with our friends because we’re spending summer together anyways,” he reminded you. “You’re not missing your senior trip for me.”
“But Rafe, you’re coming to mine. And it’s your graduation,” you said. “I wouldn’t miss the trip, just be a day or two late.”
“You guys are all moving apart. I don’t want to be in the way. We can just celebrate when I come out to California after, alright?” he’d said, kissing your forehead. “It’s really not that big of a deal, sweetheart. Just another stupid weekend with my family, except I’ll be wearing a cap and gown this time.”
That was the exact second you decided to pack the issue up and pretend you were over it—looking into Rafe’s eyes while he shrugged off his achievement. You’d already wanted to be there for him, but that conversation solidified it for you, especially since you hadn’t been able to pull off a surprise trip yet.
You failed miserably in February, trying to sneak into his house for Valentine’s Day. Imagine your surprise when you came down the escalator, expecting Graham and Nora to be waiting for you. Which they were, just with Rafe at their side, holding a bouquet of roses with a shit-eating grin on his face because he’d figured it out.
You’d resolved yourself to missing his big day, prepared to watch through Sarah’s FaceTime footage, making sure Nora would send you a million pictures of him in his regalia. But the weekend before, when Rafe came to your graduation, your mom on his arm as he helped her down the stadium steps, his other hand holding onto Beckham’s while Agnes was wrangling Barron because Beau walked off on a work call, proudly wearing the pocket square you’d had made for him that matched your blue dress—you literally had no choice. Rafe waited for your entire entourage to congratulate you before he wrapped you up tight in his arms, twirling you around and whispering praises and dreams of your futures together, but you were listening with one ear while your mind raced to put a plan in place.
You called Sarah that same night, when you were able to sneak away from your dinner long enough.
“Hey, Sarah. So, I was thinking of coming out for Rafe’s grad—”
“Shut up,” she gasped immediately. “You have to. He’s literally gonna love it.”
“Really? Is… is your family gonna be okay with it?” you asked, really referring to one person in particular. “I’m not looking to intrude.”
“Oh, my dad’s right here, let me ask—”
“Oh, no, Sarah—”
Sarah’s voice faded into the background for a bit, and you could hear Ward’s timbre faintly for a little while, your nerves building.
“Thanks, dad, I’ll let her know,” Sarah said, before redirecting her attention back to you. “He says he’ll buy your ticket.”
You had to refrain from gasping. “No. That’s—I was gonna fly straight to Hawaii after. For my senior trip.”
“Yeah, he says not a problem. Can you text me your email so he can book it ASAP?” Sarah asked. “He’s looking at the flights right now.”
“Um, yeah? Yeah. Yes, I can do that. Please tell him thank you for me.”
“Cool. See you there!”
And that was that—Ward booked you the ticket and sent it over with absolutely no questions asked, first-class from California to Georgia and then from Georgia to Hawaii. Rafe had already committed to continuing his work at Cameron Development like he always planned, but Ward was still laying it on pretty thick these days.
You loved feeling like the source of Rafe’s courage to stand up to him, even if you knew he always had it in him, all on his own.
—
“You don’t think he saw me, did you?”
“Y/n, we were literally a hundred rows up in the stands. And I’m sure he’s half-drunk, there’s no way,” Sarah laughed, arm linked in yours as you both hobbled through the grass in your heels in search of Rafe. You’d both had your fair share of champagne at the hotel before the ceremony.
“I just want him to be surprised,” you reply. “So bad. He got me so good when he came out to surprise me in April.”
“He’ll be surprised, I promise. He’s been moping all—there he is!”
Rafe looks up from where he’s shaking Ward’s hand and accepting a hug from Wheezie, smiling and waving at his other sister.
It takes no time at all for him to see you then, his mouth dropping open.
“What are you doing here?” he calls, cutting through the group around him to wrap you up in his arms. He knocks into you so hard you have to hold his cap on his head for him, laughing giddily when he lifts you off the ground. He sets you down, surveying your face, hands brushing your shoulders and hair and back like he’s trying to memorize you. “You’re not here right now. This isn’t real.”
“I’m here, I’m here! You didn’t think I’d actually miss your graduation, did you RC?” you tease.
“No fucking way. Baby, your trip,” he says, face falling.
“I know. I came straight from the airport, and I have to catch a red-eye to Hawaii in about five hours,” you say, shrugging. “But it’s worth it. I’m so, so proud of you.”
“Y/n/n,” he groans, blushing.
“And after two failed attempts, I had to get in at least one surprise before you left Georgia for good,” you tease, flicking his tassel. “I’ve owed you since your birthday.”
“You never owe me anything,” he sighs, hand slipping to the small of your back. “God, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. You’re really surprised, right? Graham didn’t let it slip?”
“Fucking Graham knew?”
“And Nora, and Cody, and Sawyer. Sarah and your dad,” you list, smirking at his blush. “Everyone but you.”
“I swear I had no idea. When did you even book it? It must’ve cost a fortune this close, sweetheart,” he murmurs, finally leaning in to plant a kiss on your lips. “Let me cover it.”
“Actually,” you say, voice dropping to a whisper after you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Your dad took care of it.”
Rafe just rolls his eyes, kissing you again, a bit longer this time but still wary of his family around him. “I guess we’ve moved officially into the bribery stage.”
“Yep.”
“Whatever. I don’t care. I’m so happy you’re here,” he says, smiling down at you, arms locking around your waist. “You know you didn’t have to come.”
“Will you stop? I wasn’t gonna miss it, Rafe,” you remind him. “My boyfriend’s a college grad, I’m not dating down anymore.”
“Oh, give me a break. You have one week on me, Einstein. Besides…” You look up at him in confusion as he trails off, fitting into his side as he walks you back toward his family. He takes his cap off, reaching over and placing it on your head instead. “You’re always gonna be dating down when you’re with me, baby.”
—
After a stuffy dinner with the Camerons, you and Rafe had just enough time to sneak away and grab a drink with Rafe’s roommates and some of his friends before you had to head back to the airport.
But Rafe seems unconcerned about time, making you both stop over at his house and marching you right upstairs, the two of you dodging half-packed moving boxes and knocking into spare beer cans when Rafe practically slams you into the kitchen counter the second you’re both inside.
“Sorry, would’ve made everyone clean if I knew you were coming,” Rafe says, cheeks bright red.
“No, I like it. Cody told me you all cleaned for a straight week before I came last time,” you laugh, breath hitching when he bites at your neck, dress strap already sliding off of your shoulder. “This is the more authentic college boyfriend experience.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t get that last time. You texted me two days after you left that you were still hungover,” he laughs, leading you up the stairs. You’re thankful that at least his bed is still made, your favorite blanket of his tucked to one side. Your side. “And sore.”
“Yeah, hadn’t drank like that or hooked up with a frat boy that many times since I was a freshman,” you say, laughing loudly when he pouts. “C’mon, we’re on a time crunch if I still wanna see Nora before I leave.”
“Oh, excuse me,” he laughs. “Forgot she’s the real reason you come out here.”
“Exactly, that’s my girl.”
“Well you’re my girl,” he says, finally getting your dress up and over your arms. He pauses, leaning back on his haunches when he sees the lingerie that’s underneath. “Are you wearing my school colors?”
—
You both stumble down the street to the bar, you wearing the leggings and sneakers you’d shoved to the bottom of your bag plus one more of Rafe’s shirts—a favorite you’d been eyeing for a while, waiting for the right moment to take it.
“You owed me anyways,” you tell him, swinging your hands back and forth, tucking in close to him as you dodge more and more drunk graduates the closer you get to town. “I was the only one who had protection on hand.”
“Oh, sorry I already packed my condoms because I didn’t think my girlfriend was going to come spend five hours in my city,” he laughs, pulling you under his arm with a kiss on your forehead. “But remind me to write Davis a thank you card.”
“There he is! Cameron!”
Rafe’s roommates and a couple friends you recognize are on the patio when you both arrive at their favorite bar, all dressed in varied forms of their regalia, and all drunk. Graham waves the two of you over, eyes lit up as he accepts a hug from you. “Did you get him, Y/n/n?”
“You fucking idiot, dude,” Rafe laughs, dapping him up. He looks accusingly at his other roommates, Cody and Saywer. “Guys, our place is a mess right now.”
“She wanted you to be surprised!” Nora says, sidling up to you with two White Claws and a hug. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks, I can’t,” you say, accepting the hug but not the drink, waving at his other roommates. “Have to get back to the airport in like an hour.”
“Oh come on, that’s enough time for a drink,” Cody says, grabbing the can out of Nora’s hand and popping the tab before shoving it into yours. “You only graduate college once, Y/n/n.”
“Hey, man. Ease up on her—” Rafe starts, only to stop himself when you take a long swig, shrugging. “Alright. Never mind.”
“One won’t hurt,” you say.
Rafe settles into a bar chair, arms around your shoulders so he can tuck you in between his legs while you both talk to his friends. You check in with him every now and then while you, Saywer, and Nora talk post-grad, always getting a blissful smile and usually a sloppy kiss in return (“I’m good, baby”), especially the more shots he accepts as the night wears on. You knew he and Cody were going shot for shot tonight, which never ended well for either of them.
Nora walks off once a friend from the other side of the patio announces that Graham just ate shit, dragging Saywer with her to help, and you finally turn around in Rafe’s arms, knowing your time together is running out.
“How are you? Sad?” you ask, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest of his beer, throwing the cup into a recycling can nearby—a far cry from the way he’d crushed it and thrown it on the ground last time he brought you to this bar. You had set him straight pretty quickly.
“Mm. A little,” he says. “But how can I be that sad when you’re here?”
“Sap,” you say. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Can’t believe we get to spend the summer together. And the rest of our lives,” he says, eyes glassy while he thumbs at your cheek. “We finally got to the good part.”
“It hasn’t all been the good part?” you tease, leaning up to kiss him.
He hums against your lips, pulling off and looking at you in consideration. “Of course it has. But everything’s better when I’m with you for real. Just feel right whenever I’m next to you, baby girl.”
“You keep sweet-talking me like that and I’m gonna make you call your dad to tell him he needs to change my ticket.”
Rafe stands up straight, digging around in his pockets for his phone. “Say the word.”
“Stop,” you laugh. “We’re not doing that.”
“Alright, alright. Did he get you a car? I’ll call it,” he says, nudging you back so he can stand up. You say bye to his roommates and friends, stumbling back against Rafe when Cody literally slams his entire body weight into you, making Nora and Graham promise to come to visit you both in California that summer.
Rafe confirms the driver’s coming before pulling you back into his arms on the sidewalk outside the bar. “My California girl. All the way out here for me.”
“Just for you.”
“Love you so much, seriously,” he says. “My dream girl.”
You roll your eyes at his lessened filter, even if it makes your heart sing. “Love you, too. Now go celebrate with your friends.”
He groans. “Do I have to? I can probably just book the seat next to yours. We’d have fun in Hawaii.”
“Rafe, you’re drunk. You’re coming out in a week to spend the whole summer with me.”
“So? Think about it,” he says, snapping excitedly. “And we still haven’t fucked on a plane.”
“Rafe!”
He laughs, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry. That was out of pocket. I’m really drunk.”
“Oh my god,” you laugh, extracting yourself from him as a black car pulls up. “Please get home in one piece and take some painkillers before you go to sleep tonight.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs. “Safe flight. Thanks for coming, baby. It means a lot to me.”
“You mean a lot to me.”
“Now I’m blushing, Y/l/n,” he groans. “Seriously. Have a good trip, I expect at least one bikini picture a day. But that’s a minimum.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, getting in one more kiss before slipping into the car, body on fire when his hand rests over the front of your throat, pulling off once he’s had enough. You roll the window down once you’re settled into the SUV, blowing him a kiss as your driver pulls away. “Love you!”
Rafe pretends the kiss knocked him back forcefully, definitely aided by the alcohol in his system, catching it in his hand and putting it in his pocket. He smiles big, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout after you. “Love you more!”
—
JULY
“I think I owe you an apology, Rafe.”
Rafe looks over where Beau had approached him, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from where you’d been pushing Beckham on the swing in the backyard.
You’d been nothing short of a wreck all week leading up to the last time you’d get to see the kids before you left them for good. They’d known for a while—Rafe recalls the night in early May where he’d left a party when you called him sobbing because the day came where you explained to them that you wouldn’t be with them forever. Apparently, they had both cried, which made you cry, and then Agnes cried—it was an entire mess. Rafe felt helpless in comforting you, and if he hadn’t just surprised you in California a month before that, he would’ve been on the next flight. He definitely checked after he heard the wobble in your voice when you said good night to him.
He knew tonight was going to be hard, so he’d been watching you like a hawk because of it, asking Beau to repeat himself.
“Sorry, what’s that?”
“When we first met, last fall?” Beau reminds him. “I feel like I came on too strong.”
“Oh,” Rafe nods, shaking his head like that conversation hadn’t partially led to him breaking up with you. “No worries. At all.”
“I never told you this, but I got a bit of a scolding from my lady over that one,” he laughs. “And yours, actually. I’m surprised she even let you shadow me this summer.”
He has Rafe’s full attention now. You stood up to your boss for him? “Really?”
“I could tell she hated it,” Beau laughs, sipping from his whiskey tumbler. “She tip-toed around it for as long as she could.”
“Well, I’m sorry if that was—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s one of the reasons we liked having her around for so long,” he says, smiling fondly. “So, back home you both go?”
“Yeah,” Rafe smiles, turning back to watch you. You’re sitting in the grass now, talking with Agnes, both boys running around the two of you. You switch between keeping an eye on the kids and listening to Agnes like it’s second nature. He catches your gaze momentarily and you shoot him a half-smile; he can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re just barely holding it together. “Moving her home in two weeks.”
“Very nice. Well, I loved having you at the company this summer,” he says, shaking Rafe’s hand now. “And you probably don’t want to hear this, but I have a job waiting for you anytime you want.”
“I—can I be honest? I love it out here,” Rafe admits. “And I love Y/n, and Y/n loves it out here. But I really just can’t picture us settling down anywhere but home.”
Beau laughs. “Settling down? You two are what, 22?”
“Yeah,” Rafe blushes.
“You have plenty of time to settle down. You could spend a few years out here, go somewhere else. Travel, go back to school. Then go home, have your babies, work for your dad, whatever,” he says, patting him on the back. “You two have a whole life ahead of you. Don’t ever rule anything out.”
“Yeah,” Rafe says, considering. “You’re probably right. I mean, we’re gonna go home for now, but. It’s not like we have to stay there?”
“Absolutely not,” Beau agrees.
“Thanks for everything, man. Really, for the guidance, for taking care of my girlfriend for all these years,” he says. “She loves you guys, really.”
“Anytime. Good luck back home with your dad,” he says. “We plan to sail by there in April, I think? Let’s talk again then.”
—
Rafe all but chases you to the car after you’re both done saying goodbye, a little underwhelmed by your reaction if he’s honest. You’d just squeezed them both extra tight, hugged Agnes and Beau, and started right down the path outside, barely giving him time to catch up after he bid them all goodbye as well.
“Y/n,” he calls, racing to catch up with you as you pace down the walkway. He grabs your hand but you shake him off instantly, making his heart sink. “Are you okay?”
“Please unlock the door.”
“Shit, yeah. Sorry, baby,” he says, fumbling with your keys in his pocket. You don’t even wait for him to open the door for you, slipping into the car so quickly he almost misses it, sighing before walking around to get in the driver’s seat.
“You need to drive now,” you say quietly.
“What?”
“I really don’t want them to see me cry again, Rafe,” you say, voice wobbling. “Please.”
You finally face him, giving Rafe a clear view of your red-rimmed eyes, and he’s backing out within seconds. Not without pressing a kiss to the side of your head first. “Of course, alright. Let’s go.”
You’re barely out of the gate before he hears sniffles. He looks over and you’re not even blotting your tears as soon as they fall, just letting them stream down your face, which is how Rafe knows you’re really upset. He reaches over to rest a hand on your leg and you clutch it immediately, and he can feel your tremors. He gives it a few blocks before he’s pulling over.
“Rafe, what are you—”
He’s rounding the front of your Jeep and coming to open your door back up in an instant.
“Rafe.”
“Stop, are you okay?” he asks.
You immediately shake your head. “No.”
You click your seatbelt off, falling into his arms immediately when he tugs you out of
the car. He’s sure the two of you look crazy, pulled over in this nice neighborhood, holding each other on the side of the road. And Rafe couldn’t care less, only focused on the way you’re breaking down in his arms currently. He can’t remember the last time he saw you cry like this, but it was probably because of him.
“They’re never gonna forget you, sweet girl. You probably made such a difference in their lives, you don’t even know.”
“Rafe,” you sob, just digging your head into his chest more. “Beckham won’t remember anything about me. Barron might, but—”
“Breathe, Y/n/n. I’m serious, you’re scaring me,” he says softly.
“I know, I know,” you say, pushing out of his arms to collect yourself for a second. You fan your eyes, wiping some of the mascara streaks you’d accumulated as much as you can, Rafe reaching out to help. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just want you to be okay.” Rafe tucks some hair behind your ear, pleased at the way your shoulders are less shaky, your cheeks a bit drier. “Are you?”
“I will be. They were just my little buddies, you know? When I got the job, I just never thought…” you trail off, your face crumpling again. “I didn’t think I could love anyone that much besides my family.”
The joke falls off his lips as a reflex, before he can even think it through. “Not even me?”
“You don’t count,” you reply quickly.
“I don’t count?” he asks, grabbing your chin.
You shrug, a little smile finally gracing your features. “Wouldn’t really be fair to anyone else.”
Rafe’s body goes warm from head to toe, and he pulls you back into his arms for his own reasons, pressing kisses to the top of your head over and over. “Can I take you home, now? Or do you still need some time?”
“No, no. I’m good,” you sigh, shaking out your shoulders and getting back into the car. “Thanks.”
Rafe kisses your forehead once he’s back in the driver’s seat.
“I love you, Y/n/n.”
“How much?” you ask.
He laughs despite himself. “How much? What kind of a question is that?”
“Enough to give me a baby?”
Rafe’s mouth goes dry, he nearly slams on the breaks, arm instinctively reaching out to catch your body against the seat if he needed to. “Excuse me?”
“A baby.”
“A baby? Like… a human baby?”
“Yeah. I could give you one like right now,” you say matter-of-factly.
Rafe laughs again. “Jesus Christ, Y/n/n.”
“I’m serious! What am I gonna do without them?”
“Can we at least start with a dog?” he says, pulling up to a stoplight. You have a sly smile on your face when he looks over, and he just rolls his eyes. “Or a fish, or something, like—fuck. You can’t just say shit like that to me without warning, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” you nod. “Warning: I’m about to tell you that I want to have your baby.”
“Y/n.”
“Rafe, give me a baby.”
“We’re 22.”
“And?”
“We’re babies.”
—
“I’m gonna miss these tacos so much.”
“Me too. Should we book our first visit with Wren and Delilah now, or…” Rafe trails off, smiling.
You roll your eyes from your position on the floor, sitting across from Rafe in your empty living room. Davis and McCall had both moved out last week, and Rafe had been helping you slowly but surely sell all of your furniture and ship back your things, so the townhouse was practically empty at this point. There were just a few more things to pack up tonight before you left the keys for your landlord and headed off. Rafe was gonna miss it out here, too. He loved visiting you when you were still in school and loved spending the summer living with you even more. Rafe really felt like he made a place from himself in this part of your life, which was hard for him at the beginning. But you’d made all of your favorite places his favorite places too, cleared out half of your bathroom so he could fill it with his stuff—way too much room for him, he ended up letting you reclaim almost all of it. You both joked about it being practice for when you moved in together one day, but to Rafe the joke became less and less funny every time he woke up to you pressed up against him, your hair a mess. Every time he came home from a day in Beau’s office to you answering emails at your desk, reaching up to give him a kiss before you wrapped up for the day and you two went to dinner. Every time you brushed your teeth together or planned recipes to make and went to buy the groceries for it, bickering over organic produce or vegan substitutes.
“No, I’m not. You might have to physically drag me onto that plane tomorrow.”
Rafe smiles as he finishes his food, but he can’t help the sinking feeling he gets watching you look around, taking in your empty college apartment.
“You’re sure about this, right?”
“What?”
“Moving. Leaving.”
“Rafe…” you say, frowning.
“Don’t—don’t do anything just for me, I mean it, Y/n/n,” he says. “Say the word and I can help you find a place out here, I’m sure Beau has something he can rent to you, or—”
“Woah, woah,” you say, scooting closer to him. “What are you talking about? I’m not staying out here, Rafe.”
“But do you want to?”
“What are you saying right now?”
“I just, fuck.” He sighs and takes his hat off, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and running his fingers through his hair a few times before settling it back on his head. “I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing you to move home. ‘Cause, I know when we broke up—baby, you know I’d long distance you from like, Bali at this point, right?”
“Bali.”
“Yeah, or like. I dunno. Somewhere really far. Complete opposite time zones,” he says. “I know I could handle it. If it’s what you wanted.”
“I want,” to say, knocking your knee into his, “to move home. At least for now.”
“You’re just so sad,” he says. “I don’t want to make you sad.”
“You’re not making me sad,” you reply. “Well, you kind of are right now, actually.”
“Sweetheart.”
“No, stop.” You nudge his knee with yours again, resting your head on his shoulder. “I wanna be with you, Rafe. Of course I do. But I promise you being home too is just a bonus.”
“I didn’t think it’d be this hard for you to leave, I guess. I hate seeing you this upset, and if I had any hand in it, I’d hate that even more,” he murmurs.
“Well of course I’m sad, Rafe. I made a life here, I made friends, a home. And now it’s time to move on,” you explain. “It’s sad, but that’s how it works.”
“But that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“No regrets?” he says, finally facing you.
“Not one. Plus—I dunno.”
“What?”
“I feel like this might not be the last time I live out here. Or… we live out here?” you shrug, voice going quieter. “If that’s something you’d want one day.”
“Yeah?”
“Just have a feeling. When Agnes and Beau get back, I dunno. We can see what happens.”
“Beau practically hired me already,” he admits.
You roll your eyes, kissing his cheek. “I’m sure he did.”
“I liked working for him. I could see it. One day,” Rafe shrugs, not wanting to put too much stock into it right now.
“Wherever I go, Rafe… you know you’re part of my plan now, right? Am I part of yours?”
You are my plan, he thinks. “Of course. Always, from here on out.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
You finally lean in to kiss him, seemingly satisfied with how that conversation ended up. But then you groan. “God, can’t believe we got to spend the entire summer living together and now we have to go back to sneaking into each other’s parents' houses.”
Rafe clears his throat, huffing a laugh before going to kiss your head.
“Yeah, that’s crazy.”
—
AUGUST
“You said we’re gonna be quick right? I already told Blythe we were on the way.“
“You guys are like, besties now, huh?” Rafe smiles, turning into the neighborhood.
“I think dragging both of our inebriated boyfriends out of that club in St. Bart’s while she talked the police down from citing both of you for public intoxication really brought us together,” you deadpan.
Rafe grins while he faces the road. “That was a fun trip, wasn’t it?”
“Baby, we literally lost Kelce in a foreign country for three hours. And had to send the deckhands to look for him because we were all too drunk.”
“They found him though, right? He was fine. And they got their tip,” Rafe shrugs. He pulls up to the listing he wanted to swing by before the wedding you were en route to—some friend of Ward’s, you think. Or maybe one of Topper’s cousins. You’d been back in Kildare less than a month but you were already settling back into your bustling social calendar, now combined with Rafe’s. Wedding season was always busy, but you don’t see yourself getting sick of twinkly-lit, champagne-clouded dances with your boyfriend to old love songs anytime soon. “Anyways. We’re here, come inside?”
You reach over the console, putting a hand on his chest in shock. “Are you asking me to come up for a drink? Rafe, I’m usually more of a fourth or fifth date kinda girl.”
His eyes narrow. “Hold on, I bedded you in between our second and third date. Who were you waiting for the fourth date with?”
“Let’s go inside!” you announce, kissing his cheek and undoing your seatbelt.
Rafe doesn’t let you get far, bringing your face back to his with a firm hand under your jaw. “Easy just for me, huh?”
“I will literally stay in the car,” you warn him.
“No, no,” he rushes firmly, almost startling you as he scrambles out of his own seat. “C’mon, I want you to see this one. Need your opinion.”
He comes around to open your door, and you can’t help but notice the nervous look on his face as he stares at the house. It’s white, one story with a nice front porch. It’s a little south of where you two grew up near the Island Club, tucked into a nice neighborhood of mismatched houses instead of in one of the newer subdivisions that were popping up in this area of town. You’ve always liked this area of Kildare—it can feel really homey compared to Figure 8.
“Rafe,” you say, calling for his attention. His head whips back around, holding his hand out for you as you step down from his truck.
“Sorry, you got it?”
“Yeah, just,” you say, adjusting your dress around you so it falls how it’s supposed to. “Okay, there.”
“You ready?”
You look at him oddly, still slowly nodding your head.
“Alright, come take a look.”
“Why are we here again?”
“Rose just wanted me to check on some staging stuff for her,” he says quickly. “Her assistant was supposed to finish up yesterday and she hasn’t had time to come see for herself.”
“Oh, alright,” you nod as he unlocks the front door, hand on your back guiding you inside. You glance around briefly before instinctively grabbing his arm, steadying yourself as you slip off your shoes.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about shoes for this one,” he says. You pause.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. We’ll only be here for a second,” he says.
“Okay,” you shrug, leaving them as is.
Rafe grabs your hand, leading you through the entryway and into the main area of the house. “It’s a rental. What do you think?”
“The windows are gorgeous,” you say, looking out to where they overlook the water in the distance. It’s tucked a bit further into the neighborhood, but you can still see the horizon past the rest of the houses. “So much light in here. And Rose did a great job with the staging.”
“I’ll tell her you said that,” Rafe smiles.
“How many bedrooms is it?” you ask, peeking around to the hallway leading to the other side of the house.
“Just one, and then there’s a sunroom up front,” he gestures. “You really like it?”
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling at him. “It’d be so cute for a young family or something. The backyard and everything. I like the white cabinets.”
“Or,” Rafe starts, taking a deep breath, squeezing your hand tightly. You cock your head, waiting for him to continue. “It might be perfect for two college grads who just moved back home, and are already sick of sneaking into each other’s parent’s houses after waiting a year to finally live in the same city again?”
You freeze mid-nod as Rafe pulls a spare key out of his pocket. He lifts your connected hands, placing the key in your palm and closing your fingers around it.
“Rafe Cameron.”
And then you take one more look around, everything shifting into place. There’s no flyers on the counter, no water bottles or any freebies for any prospective renters.
Rafe hadn’t used the coded door lock (you should’ve noticed, it made your heart flutter the few times Rafe took you to check on listings for Rose and Ward and tried to hide the fact that he used your birthday as his entry code), the key already on his key ring. He didn’t make you take off your shoes, or even wear the little covers like you do sometimes so you won’t track in dirt. You glance over his shoulder to the hallway again, noticing his golf clubs leaning up against the closet door.
This isn’t for show—this house is leased.
“You—you didn’t.”
“It’s totally fine if it’s too fast. I told my dad I wanted to rent a property because I’m more than ready to move out, and of course you’re welcome any time if you still want to live at home or, I don’t know, find your own place maybe?” he says all in one breath. “But, sweetheart… I’d love to have you here with me. Permanently.”
“Rafe fucking Cameron,” you say, tears already building on your waterline. “Are you sure?”
“Baby, of course I’m sure,” he tuts, hands on your shoulders. “Like I said, it’s just a rental. Month-to-month, so nothing serious if we ever wanna move back to the mainland or find a new place here or—“
“No, Rafe, don’t—this is serious. I want it.”
“You do? You wanna move in together?”
You throw your arms around his shoulders, giggling when he lifts you off the ground. “Of course I do. I was thinking—I thought you didn’t wanna move in with me.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
“I dunno,” you say, fanning your eyes where tears had collected. “After we came home, it just never came up and I thought maybe our trial run in California scared you off because of my skincare or my smoothies or how much I cry—”
“Are you crazy? No. I loved living with you,” he says quickly. “I haven’t slept right in weeks unless you let me come over.”
“The sweetest boy,” you croon, squeezing him tight. “I’m literally so in love with you right now.”
He hugs you for a second longer, letting you down when he hears a sniffle. “Baby, you spent so long on your makeup.”
He blots his thumb under your waterline like you’d taught him, wiping any mascara residue on his black pants.
“Because I didn’t know my perfect boyfriend was going to surprise me with a perfect house on the way to this wedding,” you huff, pulling out of his hold and taking a deep breath. You look around, taking the place in with fresh eyes. Your first home with Rafe, the beginning of your life together. “I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it. C’mon, let me show you our bedroom.”
—
“What would you have done if I just absolutely hated the place?”
Rafe laughs, tugging you in closer as the two of you sway around the dance floor at the reception. “Pretended it actually was a listing, then gone and found a place you liked. And probably died a little inside.”
“Nice, that makes sense.”
“You do actually like it though, right? If not, I can—“
“Nope, I already have plans for that sunroom,” you smile, leaning up to kiss him. “Our sunroom. All the plants you’ve got me are gonna look so cute in there.”
“I think the porch could fit a swing,” he says, cheeks red.
“And the backyard will be perfect for our future dog.”
“Dogs. Plural.”
“Plural?”
“Yeah. Like at least six,” he laughs, kissing your head. “I can’t believe this is it now, baby. We’re just doing life together from now on.”
You reach up and push some strands of hair that had fallen out of his gel back for him, fingers tugging at the ends where they’re flipping up near his shirt collar.
“Rafe, I’m not sure I wanna stay here forever.”
He nods, hand tightening on your back. “I know, me either.”
“You mean it?”
“I mean it. Maybe one day, yeah. I’d wanna stay here for good,” he explains. “Especially if Dylan or Sarah and Wheez stick around, too. I just want—this is our home, sweetheart. It’s where I fell in love with you. I want to end up here one day, I want our kids to grow up with their cousins and grandparents.”
You lean up and kiss him, because that’s the first time he’s ever brought up kids on his own. And he still meant way in the future, but it was something to confirm he’d thought about it, too. “Me too.”
“And I have to give it a shot with my dad. If I ever want our relationship to work in the long run,” he sighs.
“I get it,” you assure him. “I’m gonna worry about you, but. As long as you know I’m here for you.”
“I do. And I love you.”
“I love you. I’m going wherever you go from now on, Cameron.”
He twirls you around. “Like I’d go anywhere without you, anyway.”
“True.”
“Can’t let you out of my sight. Somehow I tricked you into falling in love with me, now I just have to keep an eye on it.”
“Think that might’ve been the other way around,” you protest. “I’m pretty sure I’ve somehow had you on lock for years, RC.”
“But there were no tricks. I’m actually surprised that not everyone who’s ever met you isn’t in love with you.”
“Even if they were, none of it would matter,” you say. “Not if I have you.”
quick lil imagine cos i just thought of this n lord have mercy im bout to bust
incentive
rafe cameron x you
summary: rafe can’t quite practice patience
content: fluff? maybe? i can’t tell and kissing
warnings: none
you’re getting ready for some kook event you barely even knew the name of in your room, your boyfriend rafe dressed and ready hours before you and waiting impatiently.
he comes out of your bathroom after adjusting his hair and tie for the millionth time, hoping too see you finally finished. much to his dismay, you’re still sat at your dressing table, absentmindedly humming to the quiet music playing in the back as you brushed the finishing touches to your makeup.
rafe comes behind you, resting his palms on the back of your chair as he looks at you in your mirror. you glance up at him, making eye contact through the mirror as a small smile creeps onto your face.
“what?” you meekly ask, feeling shy under rafe’s gaze - still not used to it after all this time.
rafe’s utterly in love with you, seeing you as the best thing he’s ever seen despite your makeup half done, your hair partly straightened and your body still draped in his shirt from last night.
he starts to smile, soaking in every inch of you through the mirror before leaning round. you meet him halfway, your hands still in the air holding your makeup brush and bronzer compartment, the boy meeting your lips in a slow kiss you inhale in.
you forget about getting ready for a moment, in fact you forget your own name for a moment. rafe’s hands still on the back of your chair, his arms leant around you as he pulls away – your eyes taking a moment to flutter back open as he brings his thumb up to swipe away a stray eyelash from you curling them.
“what was that for?” you breath, your faces still irrevocably close. he pecks your nose before straightening up as you follow his eyes in the mirror.
“incentive to get ready faster so we can get back faster.”
You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love
an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!
—
new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron
new light masterlist
obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1
warnings: underage drinking
“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”
“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”
Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.
Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”
“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.
“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”
Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”
He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.
But even after all of that—he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.
The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.
Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”
“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”
“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”
“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”
“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”
Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”
“Are you gonna say yes?”
“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.
“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”
“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”
Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”
“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“
Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”
“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.
“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.
Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”
“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”
You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.
The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”
Rafe glades at him.
“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.
“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”
“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.
“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”
He turns shifts his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”
—
Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.
Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.
And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.
“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.
“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”
“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”
“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.
“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”
“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”
“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”
“When?”
“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”
“Thought I might what?”
“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.
“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.
Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—“
“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”
“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”
“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.
—
“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”
You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”
“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”
You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”
“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”
Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”
You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”
“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.
“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.
“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.
“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.
“Right, sorry,” you say.
“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”
You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”
He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”
You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”
—
“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.
“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.
He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.
Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.
And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.
You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.
But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.
“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.
All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.
Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”
—
Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.
“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”
“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.
“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.
He hands him a crisp hundred.
The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”
And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.
You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.
Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?
But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.
And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.
Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.
Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.
Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.
The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.
Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.
“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”
You look at him and his outstretched and smile, then back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”
“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.
“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?
“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”
“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.
“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”
“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”
“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.
And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.
Synopsis: When you left the OBX for college, you didn’t realise how much you would come to miss Rafe Cameron. As you return home for summer break, will this revelation mean a new beginning for you and Rafe?
Pairing: Rafe x Kook reader
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: drinking
Author’s notes: Please let me know what you guys think!! Super excited to make this into a multi-part series.
new light part 12: through my veins — rafe cameron
new light series masterlist
summary: he’s had your heart for as long as you can remember; you’re always going to find your way back to rafe cameron.
pairing: rafe x reader
warnings: alc and swearing of course
a/n: omg hi hello, i’m actually so sad posting this 😭 so proud of this fic and so happy in the little community we've created to talk about it. i really hope you guys like this ending! epilogue should be coming soonish & then i have some blurbs and stuff to start posting after that. plus a new rafe series in a bit!!! in the meatime, send me asks on anything you wanna know or see between these two: headcanons, blurbs, etc. thanks for everything new light besties 👼
my writing
what do i do with all of this love that’s running through my veins for you?
“What made you want more time?”
Rafe’s holding a hand out to help you up when you finally come to slip back into his bed after your shared shower, one of his old long sleeves freshly pulled over your torso, as if smelling like his body wash wasn't cozy enough.
(He had looked at you in warning when you took it off the hanger, but you just shrugged. “You were the one that got my sweater all wet.” “You came onto me when I was soaking wet, baby.”)
“Ah,” you sigh, waiting for this question, settling in beside him where he’s already propped up against the headboard. Rafe pats the spot on his chest where you usually lay your head, but you just stay put where you’re facing him with your legs tucked under you, a hand resting on his thigh over his shorts. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
“For what? Waiting?” he asks, a ringed knuckle bumping into the bottom of your chin so you look at him. “Of course. You don’t have to thank me.”
“Just needed to think.”
“About what, sweetheart?”
“I dunno. I guess… if I needed any more reassurances.”
Rafe nods slowly. “And… do you?”
You bite your lip, looking down as you slip a finger under his shorts to feel the soft hair under the fabric. You knew you two were on the same page about where this was going, but that didn't make talking about everything that led up to your breakup any easier.
Rafe gently places his hand over yours, making you look up at where he’s been awaiting your reply. You lean over him immediately, your thumb pressing into the furrow between his brows until his face relaxes again. “I trust you with your dad, Rafe. He’s your dad.”
Rafe sighs, head falling back into the wall behind his bed. “I have so much to tell you.”
You shift closer to him, legs pressing into his side. “What is it?”
“The first thing you have to know is it wasn’t for you. Well, it kind of was, but it’s something I’ve been thinking of for a long time—something I’ve been denying to myself for years, honestly.”
“Rafe, what happened? What did you do?”
“Alright. In the interest of honesty,” he says, finally looking back down at you. You nod in encouragement. “I told him I’d walk.”
Warmth blooms across your skin, spreading from your neck to your shoulders, down your back, and your entire body as you move even closer to him, close to sitting on him at this point. “You’d… walk?”
“Yeah. Like,” he closes his eyes, squeezes one of your hands where they rest between his own, and lets out another long breath. “From the business.”
You knew what he was going to say, but you still have to intentionally resist letting your mouth fall open in shock at actually hearing the words come out of his mouth. “Rafe.”
He's quickly slipping into panic mode, sitting up straighter.
“Okay, I know you hate feeling like this, but I promise. It wasn’t just you—it was everything. And I-I don’t think he’s gonna call my bluff—but I just needed him to know that I’m serious. I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did, but. I dunno, if I didn’t get through to him, I’ll figure it out from there. I promise,” he repeats.
You lean forward, your arms snaking around his neck as you tug him into a tight hug, kissing the side of his head for good measure. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re not mad?” he asks, his hands pressing into your back and pulling you in impossibly close.
“No, Rafe. I‘ve just been worried about you,” you say, leaning back, hand coming to stroke over his cheek. “I need you to talk to me about him more, yeah? I wanna help you when you need it.”
“Okay,” he nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“I can’t believe you talked to him though, Rafe,” you say, sinking into him further, pressing your warm cheek into his after you plant another kiss on his temple. “We weren’t even together.”
“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, a hand toying with the ring on your left middle finger once you settle back on your haunches. “I dunno, kinda banked on the fact you’d find your way back to me. And even if you didn’t… it’s just been too long letting him control my entire life. So, even if you were done with me...”
“Rafe,” you whisper. “Never.”
“Well, I’m trying this new thing where I don’t doubt myself when it comes to us,” he says, smiling a little when your hand grabs his chin. “Faking it ’til I make it, et cetera. But either way, no regrets. Not with my dad at least.”
You smile then, finally laying your head on his chest where he originally wanted you to. “I’m really proud of you—I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. It was a long time coming, honestly,” he says, tilting your chin up again. Rafe’s blue eyes have barely lost your gaze since you laid back down—since you came over, really. “Guess I just needed the right reason.”
“Ah!” you squeal, hand lightly swatting his chest. “Cameron, I’m not used to you saying shit like that to me anymore.”
“Get re-used to it. You’re not getting rid of me this time.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Actually, you—”
Rafe leans in and kisses you again, shifting you back underneath him and making his way down your neck, revisiting some the marks he already left, well on his way to making a new one until you push him away.
“So, what are you—are you working for your dad next year? Or your grandpa? Actually, wait—never mind,” he shakes his head, a hand coming to rest over your stomach, nudged underneath your shirt. “Whenever you want to tell me is fine.”
He looks away guiltily, eyes coming back to yours after a second of your silence.
“You’re so fucking cute,” you gush, tugging his head down for another kiss. “I’m still gonna work for Agnes, just as her assistant.”
Rafe pulls back abruptly, eyes surveying your face. “Like with her author stuff?”
He pulls you into a sitting position, pride barely contained on his face. “Yeah, uh, she just needs someone to handle the business side of things while she’s gone for the year, and. She said I can do it from anywhere, so…”
“Wait—where are they going?”
“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I haven’t even told you.”
“Told me what?”
“Okay, so get this,” you say, smiling when Rafe digs his head into your stomach as you lay back down, looking up at you with a matching smile. You get lost in it for a second, in the surreal feeling of having him back in your arms. It might bring some stray tears to your eyes if you let it, but you just clear your throat, rubbing a hand through his hair and blinking a few times. “They’re going on like, a year-long sailing thing. Just them and the boys.”
He raises his eyebrows. “And they don’t want you to come?”
“Nope,” you pop the ‘p.’ “Not that I would’ve, and they know that. But, it’s like a family adventure. I dunno, guess the baby thing kinda inspired this… newly involved parenting endeavor.”
“Wow,” he says, nodding. “That is the most Agnes and Beau thing I have ever heard.”
“Right?”
Rafe rolls his eyes in good nature, but then something more serious settles into his features. “So, you can work from anywhere, and you wanna come back here?”
You nod immediately, knowing where his head's at. “At least for a bit. I mean—I told my grandpa I’d do some editorial stuff for the foundation, too. Time for big girl jobs.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Rafe says, army crawling up the bed to plant a long kiss on your lips. “That’s amazing, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks heat up, and you half-heartedly push him off. “Rafe, it’s basically just a glorified PA job, and I’m salaried now, which is cool, but—”
“No, stop,” he says. “Don’t do that. You’re so cool—look at you, in your field and everything.”
“In my field and everything,” you laugh, a little wistful thinking about your future that’s getting closer and closer each day. Whatever happens, at least now you can visualize Rafe by your side through it all. You don't think you ever really stopped.
“Hey,” Rafe says, imploring you to look over at him from where you’d found a spot on the ceiling. “You’re really gonna miss ‘em—aren’t you?”
He doesn’t even say who he means, but you groan anyway, hands falling from his hair when you think about saying bye to the kids. “We literally can’t talk about that until next summer, or I will have a break down.”
“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Rafe reassures, pushing some hair out of your face.
“Look at you, already back in nice, caring boyfriend mode,” you say, laughing lightly.
“Hey,” he protests. “I’ve always been nice to you. And I’ve always cared about you.”
“‘Always been mine, yeah?’” you tease, repeating his words from earlier. Rafe doesn’t blush, doesn’t duck his head, just bites his lip in consideration as he looks at you.
“More or less. You?”
“More or less.”
—
“C’mon,” you urge from your spot on the counter, swinging one of your legs out to emphasize your point. “You know you wanna go, don’t pretend you don’t.”
Rafe gives you a glare from where he’s standing at the coffee machine across his parents’ kitchen, his freshly washed hair slightly fluffy on his head where it’d now dried. “I know I’d rather just take you back upstairs until we both have to leave on Sunday.”
You cross your legs at his words, grateful his back is turned again so he can’t see how affected you were. “I just can’t believe I’m the one trying to convince you to go out. Are you joking right now?”
“It’s because you’re playing this all wrong, baby. Look—we’re together, in the same city, and nobody knows about it but us. It’s just like when we first went out. We had so much fun before everyone came home last year.”
Your head tilts at that, recalling the beginning of the summer. “Rafe, that was like a week. We went on one date and then you macked on me at the pool.”
He looks over his shoulder, smirking.
“Yeah. You were pretty easy for me, weren’t you?” he teases, pulling out two mugs for the coffee when it’s done brewing. You zone out momentarily, thinking about that time—thinking about how fun and warm and exciting it all was for a bit—you’d cringe reading your texts together now, you’re sure of it. Just two friends, finally sure that it was worth it to at least try and be something more, still flirting like the nervous teenagers you used to be. Probably clued into where your mind had wandered as he gazes at you from across the room, Rafe still takes your silence as his victory. “That’s what I thought.”
“I just think it’d be fun. And Kelce worked so hard,” you remind him. “Please?”
“Y/n,” he whines like a boy, opening the fridge for milk. You can hear his resolve waning at your plea, a far cry from where he’d immediately said ‘no’ as soon as you brought the idea up as he was lifting you onto the kitchen counter, punctuating his outright rejection with a kiss. You just need to push him that last bit further.
“Fine. Maybe I’ll ask Griffin to come with me. He was already in my DMs last night.”
Rafe immediately turns to look back at you. “He was what?”
You shrug, making air quotes and imitating his obnoxious voice as best you can. “‘Heard you and RC called it quits, sorry.’”
“He—ha,” Rafe laughs, slamming the fridge door shut a little forcefully. He looks at you apologetically when he realizes the milk he has on hand isn’t the kind you normally use, which he used to keep for you at his parents’ house. “Of course he did. I'm sure he's just so, so sorry.”
“Your sister’s friend hit on me too. I’m kind of a catch, you know,” you tease.
“When did—y’know what? No. I’ve been telling you this, Y/n/n,” he sighs. “Everybody wants you.”
You raise your eyebrows, wondering briefly if you should go where you’re about to go. “That’s a little rich, coming from Mr. ‘The Girls Are Here.’”
“Oh god,” he groans, pouring the milk in both mugs. “Not this.”
“You know, McCall was convinced it was this big scripted act between you and Graham. All to make me jealous,” you say, a small smile tugging on your lips.
“Wait, did it?” Rafe asks softly, looking up at you again.
You think back to that weekend with your friends in Big Bear, grin slipping off your face. You really tried your best to rally and have fun, and your friends were overly supportive. But you couldn’t compartmentalize Rafe as easily as they wanted you to, and you were pretty much lost to your thoughts the entire weekend, drunk crying one night and just heading up to bed early all the others. You knew better now, you’d never be able to compartmentalize the boy who’d made his home in your heart years ago. “No. It just made me sad.”
“I hate that,” Rafe says, placing both hands on the kitchen counter and leaning forward. “Did you cry?”
Your lips tuck into your teeth, and you shrug even though he’s not facing you. “I mean… ‘course I cried, Rafe.”
He sighs. “I hate making you cry.”
You hop down from where you’re perched on the counter then, coming to stand behind him, arms encircling his waist and squeezing him tight.
“Well, it’s gonna happen. Because I love you and I care about you—and I’m a crier. So I’m probably gonna cry over you a few times. And you don’t get to break up with me over that,” you say.
Rafe sighs again, dropping his head to hand between his tense shoulders. You loosen your arms just enough to let him turn around and look at you, going with him when he leans up against the counter behind him. “Or anything else.”
“Nothing else?”
“No. Never again,” he promises.
Rafe trails you through the kitchen and out to his porch swing, the two of you settling in the mid-morning light, him using one foot on the ground to push you both back and forth steadily. You can’t stop staring at him, touching him wherever you can, just taking him in like something that’ll disappear again if you look away. But you know he won’t, not ever again. He sinks further into the seat, lazily rolling his head over to look at you after a bit of silence.
“Alright. What are you wearing tonight?”
You smile big, leaning in to kiss him a few times, giggling as he sets both of your mugs on the ground below you to properly plant one on you.
“Hm,” you wonder, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Now that we’re going together, I actually have no idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“The dress I had in mind was for the specific scenario in which I somehow showed up to this thing by myself and you happened to show up, too. Or see it on social. Because McCall is convinced you’d be checking everyone’s stories for me either way,” you recite, the way your roommate had coached you in the car ride to the airport.
“First of all, Y/l/n. There was no way in hell I was going to go to that shit on my own unless Kelce or Top parent-trapped us into it. Which I’m sure they were planning,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“They wouldn’t actually do that, would they?”
He cocks his head to the side, looking out over the water. “I can’t say for sure—I told them not to. I wanted you to feel ready, like you could come to me on your own.”
“Well that worked,” you laugh, thinking about that fated grocery store trip, briefly wondering how you would’ve ever ended up back here if it weren’t for the right place and right time. But you and Rafe seem to be pretty formidable against that entire concept, if the track record of your relationship was anything to go by.
“It absolutely did, sweetheart. and the waiting always pays off, take it from me,” Rafe says. He anticipates you leaning in to kiss him, cradling your face with a steady hand until you’re both satisfied again.
You settle back into his side, bent legs nudging into his lap. “I guess we’ll never know what they were cooking up since we can go together now.”
Rafe thinks about it for a second, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Which dress did you have in mind?”
“You don’t know it.”
He looks down at you, eyes narrowed in offense. “I know them all. Including the five newest additions.”
Rafe says it so proudly and surely, and you think back to the dresses where they hang in your closet at your college apartment. You hadn’t had anything to wear them too, even if Davis had begged you to put on the black one when you came to one of his symposiums. Neither of your roommates had shut up about them since they made you do a fashion show the day the box came. And they both demanded invites to next year's Midsummers.
But no matter how many opportunities came your way, something didn’t feel right, like you should be waiting until you were on Rafe's arm to wear them. That, and that you needed to take them to your seamstress to see what she could do with all of that extra fabric that would come off the bottom when she hemmed them. You had an ideas.
But you still have to knock Rafe down a few pegs.
“Baby, it’s so cute you think I haven’t bought a new dress in six weeks.”
“Ah!” The arm around your shoulders shakes your body lightly. “Stop saying six weeks. Tell me about the dress.”
“I borrowed it from McCall before I left.”
He nods his head for a second, and you feel him getting shifty underneath you. “Well, what color is it?”
“Black. It’s super cute, promise.”
He nods, reaching down for his coffee to take a long sip. “M’sure it is. Wear it. But I wanna match and you’re not leaving my side, deal? I know for a fact Griffin is coming.”
“Deal.”
Rafe rocks the two of you for a little again before sighing, pulling you in closer when he feels you shiver from the winter chill. “Alright. Speaking of McCall…”
“Yep,” you nod, devilish grin already pulling on your lips. You seriously couldn’t wait to tell your friends about you and Rafe; your phone was left upstairs in Rafe’s bedroom but you could guess that by now you’d have an onslaught of messages from Davis asking how it all went. You’d let them all sweat for a bit longer, but you were already looking forward to McCall’s eye roll.
“It’s gonna be a shit ton of groveling with her and Davis, isn’t it?” Rafe asks, looking slightly amused, slightly terrified.
“McCall? Definitely. Davis will be fine,” you say.
“Figured as much. What about Wren and Delilah?”
“Oh, Wren’s been kicking my ass over this,” you sigh. “Almost as bad as Kelce, not even kidding.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? He seemed kinda pissed at me on the phone that one weekend.”
You shrug, leaning forward for your coffee again, Rafe’s free hand resting on your waist to steady you while you bend over. “Wren’s just a big softie. Like you.”
He ruffles your hair a little, rolling his eyes. “And what do we think about Kelce?”
“Relieved,” you say, then think about it for a little longer. “Probably? Maybe a little annoyed.”
“Yeah, think so. Does he even know we’ve been talking? I didn’t tell him.”
You cringe, looking away and back out at the water. “I definitely did.”
“Of course you did. Don’t know why I even asked,” Rafe says. You kiss the taste of coffee off of his lips until you’re forgiven, which isn’t long. It usually never is, but it especially isn’t now.
A thought comes to mind, causing you to shift to look at him fully with excitement in your eyes. “Who gets to tell Topper about the yacht charter?”
“Okay—what the fuck is up with that?” Rafe says, making you laugh suddenly. “Kid seriously won’t leave me alone about it.”
“You know what’s up,” you say.
Rafe furrows his eyebrows for a second until it clicks for him, recognition flashing across his face and a pleased chuckle coming from his lips. “Blythe?”
“It’s sweet of him, he’s so stressed out. We’re all invited, but that entire trip is for one girl and one girl only,” you say.
“Not for me. I’m taking my girl to St. Barts,” Rafe says, kissing your forehead.
You beam. “So now we have to get ready for that, and then I know my parents thought about bringing you out before the holidays, and then we can all fly back together, right? And I still wanna get out to Georgia by myself at some point. We have to do a do-over of your birthday, baby, oh my god, I left your gift in California—”
“Hey,” Rafe says, the arm stretched around the back of the bench reaching up to cradle the back of your head. “Let’s worry about all of that later, yeah?”
Your cheeks burn a little at your over-excitement, slinking further into your seat. “And what happened to ‘I’m a planner sweetheart?’”
Rafe takes both of your now empty mugs, setting them aside and pulling you closer once again. His hand reaches up, pushing your hair behind your shoulders, hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Right now, the only plan I care about is taking shape again, right in front of me. S’all I can ask for at this point, and I just want to thoroughly enjoy it for now. Fuck literally everything else.”
“Thoroughly?” you tease, the hand you have in the back of his hair dipping under the collar of his shirt, your nails scratching lightly again the soft skin, hands already falling back into the routine touches.
Rafe shivers. “Yes, fuck. So let’s please go back upstairs. Please. I gave you coffee, what more do you want from me?”
Your smart (albeit, slightly flustered) reply is wiped off of your lips as both of your heads turn in the direction of the back door. Your hands immediately fall from each other the moment you see Ward walking toward you, and you scoot back from Rafe just a little for good measure. He watches you distance yourself with a hurt expression on his face, but he doesn’t say anything as his dad approaches.
“Thought that was your car I saw in the driveway, Y/n,” Ward says, smiling as he looks between the two of you. “Good to see you home again.”
You resist the urge to shoot a look back over at Rafe, who you know must be just as confused as you at his father’s tone. You shouldn’t be at this point, because Ward was like every other Figure Eight dweller in that most of the pleasantries that came out of his mouth were fake; but the limited knowledge you have of Rafe’s conversation with him recently still causes you to be caught off guard at his kindness. “Yes, great to see you too, Mr. Cameron.”
“Right. Sorry,” you say, finally looking over at Rafe. He’s staring straight at his dad, his eyebrows drawn, back straight.
“Don’t be,” Ward assures you, waving a hand. He clears his throat, looking between you and his son momentarily before he’s breaking into an awkward smile again. “Has Rafe invited you to our Thanksgiving dinner yet?”
You look back over at Rafe, who seems just as confused as you. “Uh, no, actually.”
“I didn’t…” Rafe trails off softly, speaking for the first time, looking from you back to his dad. “I didn’t know I was allowed to.”
Your cheeks burn and you suddenly find the wood of the swing very interesting, your eyes trained on it. Ward drops the act, taking a step closer to where you both sit on the porch swing.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, Y/n. And that’s completely on me, so I apologize. Rose and I would love to have you join dinner tomorrow if your family will allow it,” Ward says, his stare still piercing even as he stands before you, fully swallowing his pride. You would die to see the look on Rafe’s face as he says his next words. “If Rafe wants you here, so do I.”
You nod and thank him quietly, dazed as you tell him you’ll try to figure it out with your own family’s dinner while Rafe sits there silently. He pats Rafe lightly on the back of his neck before walking back inside, silence befalling the two of you until you’re alone again.
“Rafe,” you say. “What did you say to him?”
Rafe’s eyes are still narrowed as he looks over at you, a pensive look on his face. He scoffs, shaking his head. “I just told him, like… I had other options, but I—I don’t know. I didn’t expect… wow.”
“That was insane. Like a complete 180 from the last time I talked to your dad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he nods. “I know. Me too.”
“It’s like you have him in the palm of your hand.”
He nods solemnly, his expression still fallen. “Yeah, guess so. A guilt trip is less of an uphill battle anyways.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” you shift closer, your knuckles checking his chin. “I’m here for you no matter what, alright? Whatever he tries to put you through, whatever you wanna do about it. I mean it.”
“I know,” he says, still looking lost in thought about his dad’s change of heart. You just continue looking at him stubbornly until you get a smile. “I know.”
“And if he throws you out on the street, you know I can take care of you, baby.”
“Stop. You know it’s supposed to be the other way around.”
—
Rafe takes one look at you when he arrives to take you to Kelce’s house for the pregame and immediately sighs. Well, no—he gives himself a second to glance over your ensemble, biting back a request for you to turn around for him seeing as you’re standing in your parents’ house. And then he snaps himself out of it, shaking his head, adjusting the bottle of wine for the pregame he’d snagged from his dad’s cellar in his hand, then sighs.
“Go change.”
“Rafe—what!” you gasp, looking down at your dress. “You said you wanted me to wear it.”
“I didn’t realize it was practically a tank top,” he counters, pushing your hair off of your shoulder to slip a finger under your dress strap. “You’re going to be freezing cold, baby girl.”
“Not if I drink myself a sweater,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him. He revels in the feeling of your nails pressing into the back of his scalp before he’s pushing you off of him, looking down at you like he knows what you’re doing.
“Please go change. Please,” he says. “Into an actual sweater.”
Your bottom lip juts out, and Rafe’s reflexes are coming back inhumanely fast because he immediately presses it back in with his thumb. “Are you sure that’s why you want me to change?”
He levels you with a look. “Y/n, you know if it was nice out I’d let you walk around in a bra. Everyone knows you’re mine.”
“You look good, by the way,” you say, kissing his chin then settling back onto your heels, looking him over in his black suit and shirt, what you’d picked out for him before you left Tannyhill that day. “Missed you.”
“Missed you. That was an extremely long—“ he pauses, checking his watch for dramatic effect “—five and a half hours that we just spent apart.”
“Too long.”
“We’re about to be across the country for two more weeks, sweetheart.”
“You ruined it,” you groan. “Can we go now?”
“No—Y/n/n, I’m serious. A long sleeve, at least,” he says. “Might even want some tights.”
Rafe can see you actively resisting the urge to stomp your foot. “Rafe—”
“Rafe, it’s good to see you, son.”
Rafe tears his eyes away from where you’re still pouting at him, making eye contact with your father over your shoulder.
He said it was good to see him, but Rafe takes one look at his face and knows that isn’t the entire story. You’re looking down at your shoes when he finally looks back to you, the two of you exchanging hurried whispers while your dad comes closer and closer.
“That thing about not telling your parents—that was just your mom, wasn’t it?”
“…yes.”
He gulps. “Okay. Shit. How long has he known?”
“Since the day after,” you say quietly.
Rafe curses under his breath.
“I… love you?”
Rafe’s reply is wiped off of his lips as your dad nears, and he’s standing up straight and extending a hand.
“Mr. Y/l/n, hello,” he greets. “It's good to see you as well—happy early Thanksgiving.”
“You too, you too,” he smiles, hands in his pockets. He looks between the two of you, smile dropping off of his face when he sees your outfit. “Y/n Y/m/n. It’s freezing outside.”
“Oh, not you, too,” you groan.
“Go change, I’m sure Rafe doesn’t want you hogging his jacket all night,” he says, tilting his head to gesture up the stairs.
“I’m gonna do that anyway,” you grumble, already starting toward the stairs. She’s not wrong, Rafe thinks. “I’ll be back down in five.”
Rafe wouldn’t dream of following you up the stairs knowing your father is home. The man can’t be stupid, you’re both adults, but Rafe would literally never. As far as your dad knew, Rafe had never even seen the second story of your house.
But this is the one time he’s tempted to just do it anyways, seek the comfort of your bed and your dog while you chatter to him from the closet, model for him your options of what else you could wear. Just so he doesn't have to face your father alone.
Your dad turns and walks toward his study, the two of you leaving Rafe standing in the foyer. He catches your gaze from the top of the stairs, where you’re smiling sweetly and holding up five fingers to indicate “five minutes.”
Realistically, Rafe knew it couldn’t be less than ten.
“Rafe, why don’t you come talk to me in my office while you wait on her?”
Rafe untucks his tail from between his legs long enough to follow your dad inside, setting the bottle of wine he’d picked specifically for you—a really expensive one, because fuck his dad, honestly—down on a table in your dad’s office.
This is one room of your house that he’d never been in before. He was never in his own dad’s office unless he was in trouble, but he doesn’t feel that same wave of anxiety overtake him as he looks around the room, seeing stacks of books instead of expensive statement pieces like the ones Rose had picked for his dad’s study. Pictures of the four of you lined the walls, in lieu of the numerous business awards and certificates that lined his dad’s.
“Alright. Rafe. You know I'm a straight shooter, so I’m gonna cut to the chase,” your dad says, cuffing his shirt sleeves. He leans back into his desk, crossing his arms. “I just need to know that you’re gonna take care of her.”
“Sir—”
“And not like that. She’s extremely bright, she’s figuring her life out but she’s going to be fine. But she doesn’t need a guy in her life making that even the tiniest bit harder on her.”
“Understood. Completely,” Rafe says, nodding up and down. And he means it. “I’d never.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” your dad says, looking partially satisfied. “I don’t wanna be that mean dad, so don’t make me be him, alright? My old man was like that with my sister, and it was hell for her.”
Rafe nods slowly, thinking about how his own father acts with his sisters, how he’s never once seen John B over at his house in anything less than a shirt Rafe is sure Sarah used her allowance to buy for him, accompanied by a pound of hair gel in his hair, always bouncing his leg nervously under every dinner table, hardly speaking unless spoken to.
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent,” your dad nods. “Alright. Then we’re good.”
Rafe raises his eyebrows. “That’s… okay. Awesome—er. Yes, excellent.”
Your dad raises his eyebrows, and Rafe sighs, shoulders deflating.
“I’m sorry, sir. I was just expecting way more—like, I’m not sure what she’s told you,” Rafe says, sighing. “It was basically this whole thing with my dad.”
“She did,” your dad nods, shrugging. “Not all of it, but. Enough I think.”
“She did?” Rafe says, in slight confusion.
“Look,” your dad sighs, shoulder checking Rafe on his way out of the study, handing him the bottle of wine on his way out. Rafe scurries after him. “Fathers are hard. But you’re a man now, Rafe, just like your dad. And you’re at the age where you’re gaining control over that kind of thing—what you do about it, how much you let it affect you and the other people you love.”
Rafe just nods as they keep walking together, a little taken aback. “Of course. You’re right.”
“So don’t let it affect you, alright?” he asks. And then he fixes Rafe with one more stare, a hand clapping down onto his shoulder, just a little roughly. “And don’t let it affect my daughter. Got it?”
“Absolutely. Crystal clear.”
“Thought so,” your dad smiles, patting him on the shoulder, a little lighter now. “On that note, another thing men do? Use the front door when they’re sneaking into their girlfriend’s parents' house at midnight.”
Your heels click against the hardwood as you come back down the stairs then, wearing a cream-colored sweater under your dress, looking every bit like the angel you are, sent at just the right time to rescue Rafe from the rest of this conversation that had really taken a turn.
Your dad bids the two of you a goodnight, making Rafe promise to get you home safe (loud enough for you to hear) and to think about what he said (under his breath, just for Rafe).
You just saunter up to Rafe, standing right in front of him, adjusting your hair and your bag, smiling when you look back up at him. “Happy?”
He tucks some hair behind your ear, his hand on your beck bringing you in close enough he can press his lips to your forehead. “Happy.”
So, so happy.
—
The two of you still arrive at Kelce’s fashionably late, only fifteen minutes before the party bus is supposed to pick you all up. You hadn't told anyone you were coming, let alone together. You didn't usually have a flair for the dramatic, but you figured with how much all of your friends had meddled the past few weeks, they deserved a shock.
“Are you ready for this? Because we’re going to be getting shit all night,” Rafe says, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as you walk up the steps of Kelce’s porch.
“Hm. Wonder what would’ve prevented that,” you say. Rafe gives you a deadpan look, but you detect a bit of uneasiness under it all. You kiss his cheek chastely. “I’m teasing. You were right, we weren’t handling it well.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I’ll ream you for it later, RC. Don't worry,” you say, hand tugging him down for a kiss on the lips this time. “Good vibes, good vibes! We both look hot, all of our friends are in there, and we’re getting hammered. Let’s not waste any more time.”
“Yeah, we really gotta stop doing that, Y/l/n,” he agrees, adding a double meaning to your words for you. You didn’t even say it on purpose, but you tug him back down for a kiss anyway.
The two of you kiss in front of the door for just a little longer, Rafe finally letting you pull off once you murmur out the time.
“Alright. Here we go,” Rafe says, hand freezing on the doorknob, glancing back at you. “You’re sure?”
You just nod, crowding up behind him while he opens the door.
Music and shouts and laughter immediately pour out of the house. Your hand grips the back of Rafe's jacket when you notice it's Topper standing in the entryway, Blythe on his arm. He sees Rafe first, brown eyes immediately shifting into concern.
“Dude, I didn’t think you’d make it,” he says in surprise, immediately bringing him into a hug. That’s when he sees you, following closely behind Rafe with his hand in yours. Topper’s eyes widen as he looks between the two of you, twin smiles on your faces, practically attached at the hip, and then he just laughs. “Oh. Kelce owes me so much money.”
—
Between the copious pre-drinks, all of the knowing looks and prying questions you were fielding from your old friends, the way Rafe had pulled you into his side tight and just planted one on you as soon as he saw Griffin come into Kelce’s kitchen—laughing against the shell of your ear, describing the look on his face because you couldn’t see where you had your back to the poor guy—you're skin was flushed so warm that you nearly regretted the sweater.
Nearly. But of course Rafe was right, it was freezing outside. And you could normally commit to a look, but maybe the weather where you went to college left you ill-prepared for even an Outer Banks winter after all these years away. You would’ve begged Rafe to go home by the second bar if you came in just the dress, and you know he would’ve said yes if you pouted a little.
Being out with him again, falling into the same routine of weighted glances, quick check-in touches against your back, shoulders, hips when you've been separated for a bit—you’d technically been in the Outer Banks for days at this point, but when Rafe is squeezing your hand as you shuffle along with a group of your friends to the next bar, you finally felt like you were home.
“This bar’s nice, we should come here sometime,” Rafe teases, planting a kiss on top of your head, arm around your shoulder crushing you to his body tightly as you struggle to keep up with his long strides in your heels.
“You’re hilarious,” you deadpan, tugging on him until he slows down a little, the two of you bringing up the rear of the group.
“You warm enough?”
“For the fifth time,” you start, gripping Rafe’s hand tightly as he leads you up the stairs to the rooftop. “Yes.”
“Hey, you said nice, caring boyfriend—“
You stop abruptly once you’re both inside, staring up at him. “Are you, though?”
“Am I what?” Rafe asks absent-mindedly, already searching for wherever your friends ran off to.
“My boyfriend?”
Rafe’s eyes widen, and then he smiles again. “Uh… I mean—I dunno. Thought we’d kind of agreed on that when you jumped me this morning.”
“Jumped you?”
“Practically.”
“But are you my boyfriend?” you ask, tugging on his hand to go follow where Topper and Blythe ran off to. “I might've missed it when you jumped me, but I don’t remember being asked.”
“Oh,” he laughs. “C’mon. Give me more credit than that. You know it’s coming.”
An idea comes to mind, and you’re turning to look at him, stopping him with a hand to his chest when you reach the bar. He signals the bartender one second, holding up a ringed finger before looking back down at you. “What if I asked you this time?”
He laughs again. “What?”
“Rafe Cameron, will you—”
“Absolutely not,” he interrupts. “No. Don’t even try.”
—
“He was moping for days, Y/n, I swear,” Blythe giggles, faltering a little when she misses her straw with her mouth, causing you both to giggle again. “I’m so glad you figured it out.”
“Me too, now we get to go to St. Bart’s,” you say, shimmying your shoulders in excitement.
“Can’t wait, ugh. Love you so much,” she says, drunkenly squishing you tightly in her arms. She hops down from where she’d been sitting beside you on the metal bartop lining the roof, your backs pressed to the glass barrier while you caught up. She accepts your hand when you help steady her, stumbling a little in her wedges. You spot Topper across the way, making significant eye contact until he's coming over. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before I leave.”
“Of course. You know they’re gonna drag us golfing at least once,” you say, rolling your eyes as Topper approaches.
“Hey, angel. Woah,” he laughs, accepting her overzealous hug. “Alright. Thanks, Y/n/n.”
“No problem, Top. Happy Thanksgiving,” you salute, waving them off, knowing that’ll probably be their last appearance for the night.
You watch them fondly as they leave, but you aren’t alone for long.
“Hey,” Kelce says, cutting through a group of people to get to you. He straightens out his blazer, checks that everyone around you has a fresh drink, ever the gracious host. “How do you like my choice in bars?”
You look around at the glowing rooftop, smiling when you spot Rafe talking to Mateo across the way. “Did you do this on purpose?”
“There’s like, four acceptable bars in Kildare, Y/n. On a good day. Come on,” he says.
You give him a look.
He concedes. “Okay, I’ll admit it crossed my mind when I sent out the invites.”
You roll your eyes, pulling him in for a hug anyway. “Thanks, Kelce. For everything.”
“Just glad you guys figured it out. You figured it out, right?” he says, clinking his glass with yours. You swirl drink in your glass before taking a sip.
“Done deal, at least on my end,” you say. Rafe catches your eye at that moment, shooting you a look. You smile back at him, and he blushes at being caught out.
“Believe me, his end, too. I honestly thought you’d make him grovel a bit longer,” Kelce admits. “Which is why I’m out $500. Should’ve known neither of you can stay away.”
“I honestly just think it was a matter of time.”
“Just like before. You guys, man,” he shakes his head, voice amplified as Rafe approaches.
“What are you two talking about?” Rafe asks, immediately slotting himself against you. You didn’t end up needing his jacket after all, but Rafe had somehow lost it anyways, his black dress shirt now unbuttoned slightly, your doing. You’ve had to resist tugging on his chain all night.
“You,” you and Kelce say at the same time, Rafe rolling his eyes.
“Oh. Great,” Rafe nods, sipping his drink.
“You’re just lucky Y/n didn’t take me up on my offer to beat your ass,” Kelce says, but it’s all love. “Enjoy your night, love birds. Next bar is in 20, but no hard feelings if you don’t make it.”
“Why didn’t you let him beat me up?” Rafe asks, kissing you once he’s gone, uncrossing your legs so he can stand between them.
You pull back slightly, your thumb stroking under his right eye. “You know I’ve never liked you with a shiner, Cameron.”
He rolls his eyes again, leaning in for another kiss.
“Okay. I think I might have been wrong about the top,” Rafe finally admits, cringing when for probably the fifth time he goes to kiss his go-to spot on your neck, his lips coming into contact with the cashmere of your turtleneck instead. He huffs, tugging your shirt down and sucking a mark in anyways, his frustration manifesting in a love bite so dizzying you have to physically push him off and down a little more of your mule before you let him take you right there in the bar. “I hate it. Take it off.”
Your straw falls out of your mouth, swirling around haphazardly in the copper mug. “You told me I looked cute!”
“I know, I don’t hate it. You’re so fucking cute—you look like a princess,” he says.
You bend down a little to look in his eyes; he doesn’t look that drunk. “A princess?”
“Yeah, like the one in Sleeping Beauty,” he shrugs. “Before the pink dress.”
“Oh, nice,” you nod, considering your tan and black ensemble. “I see it now.”
“Right?”
“Good one, Cameron,” you praise, kissing him. “But you were right, I’m cold.”
He’s looking around in seconds. “D’you want my jacket?”
“No,” you tell him. “M’good. Don’t need another layer in your way.”
“Please. I could always just go up your skirt if I wanted to,” he murmurs in your ear.
“Rafe, holy shit,” you half laugh, half breathe. “We’re in public.”
“Uh. Yeah, after six weeks apart.”
“Please behave,” you admonish, recognizing a few friends waving at you.
Rafe fingers the material of your dress between two fingers, the cold metal of his ring pressing into the skin on your thigh. “Can’t believe you were gonna wear this to piss me off.”
“Not to piss you off. Just to look hot in front of you,” you clarify.
“It would’ve done both, especially with Griffin here.”
“Ooh, that actually might have been a good tactic.”
“What?”
You shrug. “Flirting with him a little bit.”
“You’re a little evil, you know that? You just like to pretend you’re not,” Rafe says, smiling in indignation. “Like you could even try to tolerate Griffin for more than five minutes.”
“You met my ex,” you sigh, sipping your mule again.
That makes Rafe laugh, and you just scowl, pushing on his chest to put some distance between you.
“I can’t lie, though. I’m just the tiniest bit bitter our table is taken,” Rafe says.
“There’s a zillion other tables, baby,” you tell him.
“But they’re not our table,” he points out. He looks at the couple that’s sitting at the table across the bar, looking every bit like they’re on the same timid first date you two were on over half a year ago. “What did you think of me? When you decided to say yes?”
You suck in a breath, thinking about it for a second. “I think I was like ‘wow, he’s still hot. He still makes me laugh, he’s grown up just a little bit.’ Is your ego inflated enough now?”
“Yes, just the correct amount.”
“Good, good.”
It’s silent for a bit, Rafe just staring at you until you nearly burst. “Okay, and?”
A toothy grin makes its way onto Rafe’s features. “And what?”
“What did you think of me?”
Rafe holds a hand out for you in a way so familiar, so exciting to this day, like it’s never lost its touch. And the kiss he plants on you feels exactly the same as the first time; you’re beginning to wonder if it ever won’t feel that way. “Kinda what I’ve always thought.”
“Hm?”
Rafe sets his glass down, helping you hop off the bar, holding both of your hands in his own where you stand before him. He leans down, talking directly into your ear so you can hear him clearly over the music.
“You came in from right over there,” he says, pointing to the entrance. “Purple dress. I saw you immediately, and I pretended I didn’t. Gave myself like a solid twenty-second pep talk in my head.”
“Rafe,” you say, leaning into him, hearing this detail for the first time ever.
“Mind you I’d already been here freaking out for fifteen minutes before that. Not including the ten-minute freakout in the car,” he admits, cheeks burning red. Your heart flutters, the back of your hand pressing into the warm skin on his face. “And then you finally found me.”
“And then I found you. But what’d you think?” you ask, bouncing up and down lightly in impatience.
“You aren’t allowed to laugh,” he says. “I’m serious.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“I thought…” he says, tucking some hair behind your ear, a thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “I can’t fuck this up.”
“Oof,” you cringe.
He laughs breathily. “I know. I know! But I promise that’s not all. You’re sure you wanna know?”
“Out with it. M’not gonna beg,” you say. “Unless you want me to.”
“I thought,” he begins one more time, the string lights reflecting in his eyes, his touch on your face so light and soft you can barely feel it, grounding you to the moment anyway. “I can’t fuck this up. Because if she’ll have me, I’m gonna marry that girl one day.’”
—
The rest of your weekend passes by in the blink of an eye, it seems; you end up timing it strategically to leave the Camerons' dinner just in time you sit down to your own. You both held in giggles as you tried to bullshit the last month and half of your relationship for your mom, Ward, and Rose. Your respective siblings don’t make it any easier, but it’s worth it for the way you get to spend the entire holiday pressed into Rafe’s side, exchanging war stories with John B, attempting to navigate this strange new dynamic with Ward.
Rafe had very quickly gotten to the point of relishing in his father’s total back down, dragging you down to the wine cellar—and yes, pushing you up against the stone wall for long enough that you come back upstairs flustered because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you for a second these days—before the two of you skip off with one of the nicest, priciest bottles Rafe could find, barely saying goodbye, knowing no consequences will be suffered if Ward wants to keep his son around.
So before you know it, you’re outside Tannyhill at 6am on Sunday to drive Rafe to the ferry so he can catch his flight back to Georgia.
He’d flirted with the idea of changing his flight to later in the day, squeeze in those last few hours with you. You didn’t let him. But when he’s standing on the porch with his duffel sling over his shoulder and a bouquet of flowers cradled in his other arm, you briefly wonder what the flight change policy is.
“Rafe, that’s the fourth—fifth one this weekend? I’m going to be leaving my parents a graveyard of peonies.”
“So?” he says in greeting, placing the flowers in your lap before leaning in to kiss you over your center console. “I have some time to make up for. Morning.”
“Morning,” you smile, kissing him a bit longer before pulling out onto the road.
“No tears this time?” Rafe requests, his hand hooked into the handle above his seat, legs splayed out, looking so comfortable. Like he never left.
“C’mon. Maybe a just few,” you sigh.
“It’s only two weeks, sweet girl,” he reminds you. “12 days.”
You shrug. “Still too many.”
“You’re right,” he smiles, kissing you again at the next stoplight.
It’s the first time you feel completely at peace as you send him off, back to where he’ll be seven states away from you for a period of time. Even if you’re sad that you won’t have him next to you, you know he’s with you. And you’re with him.
He’s yours, and you’re his. Forever and ever, like you always have been, since before you even knew that you could ever end up here one day.
You cross your arms over your chest as you watch him adjust his backpack, drop his duffel onto the pavement, having one of those moments where you gaze upon him in disbelief that you were lucky enough to be loved by him, by your old friend Rafe Cameron. Your hometown crush, who you’d always secretly wondered about; contemplated if you could ever work up the nerve, finally get the timing right, just let yourself try to love him and be loved by him.
You never had to try, you realize. All those years, you were just pretending it wasn’t already happening against your will. Pulling you back in, over and over again, stronger each time until you realized it was never going away. Because it was always where you were meant to end up.
“Any last words, Cameron?”
“Hm. I’ll miss you,” he says, arms encircling your shoulders.
“I’ll miss you, too. But try again.”
He tilts his head to the side, sunglasses hiding the mirth in his eyes until you push them up on top of his head. “Hm. You’re it for me?”
“I know, you are too. But—”
“Gonna marry you one day?”
Your heart seizes a little in your chest at that one, but you won’t break. “A new one, I like it. Still no.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“That’s… closer, I think?” you tease. “And I love you, too.”
“Hm,” he sighs, rocking you side to side. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Y/l/n.”
“I could always just leave.”
“Okay, go on then.”
But he knows you won’t. You both do. You stand before each other, both having tried and failed at some point to run from this due to whatever self-doubt had planted itself in your heads over the years. But your love was undeniable. It decidedly wasn’t easy all the time, but it was worth it. It always will be.
“Y/n, for the second time and—god, hopefully, the last. Will you be my girlfriend?”
summary: jj let it be known how he feels about you during one of your regular smoke sesh
and isn’t it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?
⠀⠀⠀
If anyone were to ask you how’d you meet JJ, you really don’t think you’d be able to answer. He somehow was always just there, throughout middle school and eventually, high school. And through all those times, he was your confidante and you, his. The pogues had known the both of you so well that they would say if one of you is around, the other is not far.
Being each other’s person comes with many perks, one of them being a built-in smoke sesh buddy. Which is, what you seem to find yourself currently doing; next to JJ, feet dangling off the dock at the Chateau with the sunset stretching out on the horizon. At this point, too many jokes (that would not seem particularly funny to anyone who’s not intoxicated) were exchanged, your body aching and eyes brimming with tears from the laughter.
“—stop! Stop, please,” you say, giggling in between sentences and one hand clutching your stomach. “I’m like, in actual physical pain right now.”
He grins as you pass the blunt back to him. JJ accepts it and brings it to his lips, taking a long drag before exhaling. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you while you calm down and let your eyes linger on the water that is tinted orange. JJ then turns to you, wiggling his eyebrows and says, “Okay, so what do you say to kegger tomorrow?”
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
2087
snowghoul
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
jbbartram-illu
discoholicmusic
prguitarman
annaxmalina
areudirty
