#rafe series
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rafebangme · 2 months ago
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...INTRODUCING FRAT!RAFE
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frat!rafe is definitely what people on campus would describe as a fuck boy. captain of the fraternity and star football player. he doesn't do girlfriends. barely follows anyone on instagram but the whole college follows him. for a guy, he has a good instagram, which of course makes girls think some ex taught him but really it was wheezie and sarah.
frat!rafe can secretly be a lover boy. he actually likes the harry potter movies and read all the books when he was little. he doesn't talk to anyone about his mom's passing, ever. can be the most responsible at the parties the frat throws, getting drunk girls a safe way home and whatnot. he doesn't have any photos with his dad anywhere.
frat!rafe doesn't give a fuck what people really think about him, he does exactly what he wants. he's a business major, of course, hoping to take over his dad's company when he graduates. he loves his younger sisters and does anything to protect them. he's only had one girlfriend back in high school and vowed to never open up like that again.
a/n: been reading a lot of frat!rafe fics recently and this moodboard came to mind, thinking of making a series. this is definitely heavily influenced by @zyafics 's AMAZING smau, goooo readddd itttttt.
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ frat!rafe decides to participate in no nut november, you disappove... strongly.
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rafesapologist · 1 year ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↴
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.
genre: angst, smut, fluff
warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)
↪ one
↪ two
↪ three
↪ four
↪ five
↪ six
↪ seven
↪ eight
↪ nine
↪ ten
↪ eleven
↪ twelve
↪ thirteen
↪ fourteen
↪ fifteen
↪ sixteen
↪ seventeen
↪ eighteen
↪ nineteen
↪ twenty
↪ twenty one
↪ twenty two
↪ twenty three
↪ twenty four
↪ twenty five
moodboards:
right where you left me
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
→ SEQUEL: the setback
© rafesapologist 2023
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rafesveryrealgf · 2 years ago
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Request for lavender sunflower, a v clingy son to Rafe🥺
a/n: your wish is my command :)
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Lavender Sunflower - Inseparable
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Warnings: sad!rafe, soft!rafe, crying
You sometimes envied how attached, Nathan — your first born — was to Rafe. He was attached to Rafe like you carrying him in your womb for nine months meant absolutely nothing to him. But even though you envied it a little bit you still often found yourself cheesing at how much he loved and adored his dad. It was truly adorable.
But today he was extra clingy.
You were six months pregnant with your third baby and had a doctors appointment this afternoon. Rafe went to every single appointment. Today was no different.
You walked into the kitchen, your hand rubbing your swollen belly as you approached your little family, immediately noticing Nathan sitting at the dining table, stuffing his cheeks with pieces of his waffle that sat on a plate in front of him. Kai — your second born — was in his high chair, more-so picking at his food rather than eating it. Your gaze finally fell onto your husband, Rafe. He stood shirtless and in pajama pants in front of the waffle maker that sat on the counter.
“Good morning.” You said. you couldn’t help but smile at the view in front of you.
Rafe turned away from the counter with a plate of food in his hand. “Morning, baby. You hungry?” He asked, which had you nodding instantly.
“Morning, mommy.” Nathan replied, his sentence muffled due to the excessive amount of food in his mouth.
“Hey, be careful, okay? Don’t need you choking.” Rafe kindly scolded him as he brought your plate of food over to the table. “You look like chipmunk.” He added with a light laugh.
You laughed at your son, his cheeks stuffed. “You’re going to Uncle Topper’s today, baby. You excited?” You asked your toddler.
Your three-year-old shook his head in response to you, too busy chewing, unable to speak.
“No? Why’s that?” You questioned. You sat down at the dining table, in front of the food that Rafe placed on the table for you.
He took a few seconds to answer your question, carefully trying to swallow his food.
“Is daddy coming too?” He was finally able to speak.
“No, buddy. I’m going with mommy.” Rafe answered for you. He stood next to your chair with his arm rested on the back of it as he made sure his pregnant wife ate.
“no.” Nathan said, dryly.
“No what?” You asked, looking up at Rafe, hoping he could explain what your son was trying to say.
He just shrugged.
“I want daddy to stay with me.” He huffed and pushed his plate away harshly, almost causing it to spill.
“You know I have to go, buddy. It’s to check up on the baby, to make sure she’s nice and healthy.”
You looked back and forth between your son and Rafe. Not entirely sure what to say.
“Kai is going with you to Uncle Topper’s though, baby.” You said softly.
Nathan shook his head harshly and huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, dramatically. Which caused Rafe to slightly chuckle. Kai began chuckling when he saw his dad do it, not knowing why. He was just an oblivious one-year-old which caused you to snort.
“Not funny, mommy.” Nathan furrowed his brows.
“Hey, daddy started it.” You threw your hands up in defense.
“Daddy can laugh,” He replied with an attitude. “Not you.”
“Let’s be nice, Nathan.” Rafe came to your defense.
Nathan huffed one last time then everyone went silent. Besides Kai, who was babbling to himself as he made more of a mess with his food, too young to read the room.
“Let’s get you boys cleaned up and ready to go.” You said, pushing your chair away from the table so you could stand up.
“Can daddy do it?” Nathan asked, attitude still noticeably in his tone.
You sighed and looked back at Rafe, he gave a small smile, knowing that hurt your heart a little bit.
“I’ll get them ready. You just sit and finish eating, baby.” He kissed your temple before walking over to Kai and unbuckling his high chair, then made his way over to Nathan to help him down from his chair.
Rafe walked out of the kitchen with Kai on his hip and holding Nathan’s hand with his free one.
You heart tightened when Rafe looked back at you one last time with a soft, closed mouth smile. You smiled in return then frowned when he looked away to start walking up the stairs.
After the boys were bathed and dressed, Rafe threw on a plain grey t-shirt and khaki pants accessorizing it with his gold chain and a backwards hat. His dirty blond hair peaking through only the front and the back of the hat.
You being exhausted and pregnant, you just threw on black leggings and an oversized shirt — that was Rafe’s, of course. But You didn’t care. And neither would he. If anything he loved seeing his pregnant wife in his clothes.
(…)
Rafe pulled into Topper’s driveway. You were in the passenger seat while Kai and Nathan had both fallen asleep in the backseat.
The whole car ride was fairly silent. With your mind still lingering on the way Nathan had treated you this morning.
“Can you wake Nathan up? I’ll get Kai’s car seat.” Rafe questioned. To which you nodded.
“Yeah.”
You both stepped out of the car, Rafe made his way around the car and as did you. You unbuckled Nathan and slightly nudged him awake.
“Hi, baby. We’re here.” You whispered.
Nathan — being a light sleeper, instantly fluttered his eyes open.
“Can daddy bring me inside?” was the first thing he said and you frowned at that.
“No, buddy. You gotta walk, he’s carrying Kai in the car seat.” You shook your head slightly.
“I want daddy.” He shook his head and crossed his arms, the same way he did this morning.
When you looked up, Rafe was already making his way up to Topper’s house With the car seat in one hand and the diaper bag in the other.
“Rafe!” You called out.
He turned, tilting his chin upwards at you.
“Nathan won’t get out unless you get him.” You said.
He immediately made his way back to the car and sat Kai’s car seat down on the ground along with the diaper bag.
“You okay to grab that?” He said, pointing towards the car seat.
“Yeah, “ you said softly, sighing in defeat.
You moved out of Rafe’s way, walking over to get Kai and watched as Nathan’s face lit up at his dad.
“Hi, buddy.” Rafe smiled back at his son, picking him up.
You couldn’t lie. You didn’t love the way Rafe ignored how Nathan was acting. But you said nothing.
Nathan nuzzled his face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe picked up the diaper bag, not wanting you to struggle carrying both the diaper bag and the car seat.
You still struggled. The car seat was straining your arm as you walked up Topper’s long driveway. One hand sat on your stomach as the other carried your sleeping son in his car seat.
Rafe stopped walking and turned around, letting you catch up to him. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m fine.” You smiled, trying to hide the fact that you already were out of breath.
“Okay.” A smirk appeared on his lips as he tried not to laugh.
He definitely noticed you were out of breath.
Once you both got to Topper’s front door, Rafe set down the diaper bag and knocked three times. Alex — Topper’s girlfriend — quickly came to the door.
A big smile appeared on her face when she saw Rafe holding Nathan.
She loved Nathan and Nathan loved her.
“Hi! didn’t know you guys were coming,” She said cheerfully. “Come in.” She jerked her head and opened the front door all the way.
“Aunt Alex!” Nathan quickly picked his head up from his dads neck and waved at her.
“Hi squirt!” She replied, waving back.
Rafe picked up the diaper bag from off the ground. “Yeah, Top offered to watch the kids.” Rafe replied, walking into the house first then making his way into the living room. “We have a doctors appointment.”
You stepped through the door way just as Alex pulled you in for a hug. You used your free arm to hug her sideways and once you both pulled away you both made your way into the living room. Rafe was talking to Topper, Nathan still in Rafe’s arms.
“I’m sorry I wish we could stay.” You sincerely say, slightly frowning at Alex.
“Don’t be sorry, Y/n. We can visit another time.” Alex reassured you, giving you a genuine smile as she rubbed your arm up and down.
Rafe walked over to the couch to set Nathan down but he clung to his dad for dear life. “Daddy no!” He yelled, making you and Alex shift your attention to them.
Kai jerked awake, his eyes wide when you looked down at him. He began to cry at the loud sound so you kneeled to the floor to unbuckle him and pick him up.
Rafe quickly glanced at you and Kai. “Stop- look, you just woke up your brother,” Rafe pleaded with your son who had both of his arms wrapped around Rafe’s neck. “Let go, okay?”
Alex and Topper stood silently looking at what was going on. Not quite sure what to say.
You were stressed with Kai now crying and Nathan not letting go of Rafe.
“I want you to stay daddy!” He cried.
Rafe jerked his head from underneath his sons arms, his hat falling off in the process.
“I can’t, buddy. You know this.” His face was red and his hair was now messy. “Please don’t do this to me.. Making me feel bad.” He pleaded with Nathan once again.
Nathan was his first born. His weakness.
Your heart tightened at Rafe’s tone of voice as you stood holding Kai. Nathan was hysterically crying, his bottom lip jutting out as he cried to his dad. He extended his arms out to Rafe.
“Take me with you,” He cried. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“I can’t, Nate. No kids allowed in the back rooms, buddy.”
You could tell Rafe was overusing the word ‘buddy’ to try and comfort Nathan.
“One more hug before me and mommy leave, okay?” Nathan nodded as Rafe leaned forward to pick Nathan up. Nathan folded his arms around Rafe’s neck like before, and laid his head on Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, buddy.”
You were sad for Nathan. He didn’t know any better. He didn’t understand why kids couldn’t go everywhere adults could.
“We gotta go now, okay?” Rafe said, slowly sitting Nathan back on the couch.
Nathan sniffled a few more times then tilted his head down. Nathan’s little hands were fidgeting in his lap as Rafe kissed his temple “I’m sorry.” He whispered in his ear before slowly leaning back up.
He grabbed his hat from off the couch then turned around to face you, Topper and Alex who had watched the whole thing silently. You frowned at him but said nothing.
“Ready to go?” Rafe said softly.
You nodded before walking over to Nathan. “We love you, Nate. We’ll be back before you know it.” You leaned down to kiss his cheek.
No reaction. No reply.
You leaned back up and handed Kai — who had finally calmed down, to Alex as you and Rafe silently made your way out of the, now, quiet home.
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probably-writing-x · 2 years ago
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Armour - Chapter Two
Rafe!AU x Reader
Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.
Warnings: Cursing, mentions/hints of a toxic relationship
Word Count: 3K
Author’s Note: I LOVE writing this series and this whole concept, I feel like I could carry it on forever - once again, this chapter was inspired by this gif so I feel like this might be an ongoing theme for this series <3 Thank you for the love y’all.
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After that night, you hadn’t thought of James. You and Rafe had returned home and, when Sarah asked how your night was, you’d told her you’d slept better than you had done in days. She’d probably tell you that you were crazy for going round to the house, and tell Rafe he was stupid for getting himself involved. She’d tell him this was too much like the old Rafe, the one that craved the power and the fights, and that he wasn’t like that anymore. But you knew that little spark in Rafe would always stay - for the few people that he cared enough about to make sure that nothing bad happened to them. And you’d seen that last night, the way he’d spoken about you; someone fighting your corner.
“Good morning,” Rafe groans as he walks through to the kitchen, dragging a hand over his face.
He’s wearing a pair of joggers that hang low on his hips, accentuating the V-lines around the bottom of his abs, his torso visible for the few seconds as he struggles to pull a hoodie over his head.
“Is it even still morning?” Sarah laughs, pouring out another cup of coffee and handing it over to him.
“I had a busy day yesterday,” He rolls his eyes, “You know, travelling and all that.”
He sits down at the kitchen island beside you and offers you a small smile just before his lips touch the coffee mug, his eyes warm in the steam coming from the cup.
“Did you get up in the night, Rafe?” Sarah asks, settling a hand over her growing bump and leaning back against the kitchen counter.
He frowns over his coffee and shakes his head, “Nope, slept like a baby.”
“That’s weird,” Sarah frowns too, “I could’ve sworn I heard the door open.”
“Probably just baby brain,” He clears his throat, “I’m going to hop in the shower.”
Sarah watches with a suspicious squint in her eyes as he disappears, “I swear he gets weirder every time I see him.”
You laugh and look down as you feel a smile spread onto your face, you’d have to thank him later for last night.
Sarah comes over and takes the seat that Rafe had been sat in, shifting herself so that she’s facing you, “So, I need you to be honest with me, how are you feeling?”
You turn so that you’re facing her too and Sarah stretches out her hands for you to take, both of you squeezing into the contact, “I’m okay, so much better than I was. It’s just weird, you know? For nine years he was the person I told everything to. Even when we weren’t living together or anything, I’d wake up and send him a text or call him before I went to sleep. I keep getting this weird instinct to just reach for my phone because I feel like I haven’t heard from him and then I realise that… I don’t know, I won’t.”
She nods reassuringly but doesn’t say anything else, letting you continue.
“I just want to know why,” You laugh a little, “Not in a weird ‘what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. But just… it was nine years of my life, you know?”
“Okay, I maybe shouldn’t be suggesting this because I think, as the best friend, I’m meant to tell you to stay far away from him, but maybe it would do you some good to meet up with James and talk it all through. Do you think?”
After last night? You weren’t sure he’d ever want to see you again, especially if he thought Rafe would be with you again.
“Yeah, maybe, we’ll have to talk about everything at some point, I guess I-“
You’re cut off as your phone pings on the counter and a message notification comes up from James again.
I think we need to talk after yesterday. I’ll pick you up and we can go for coffee if you’re free?
Sarah eyes the message too, “After yesterday?”
“Right, yeah, with the box and stuff, I thought that was his final straw or something,” You look down so that she can’t realise that you’re lying, “Um, I better go and get ready, tell him that I’ll be free.”
You squeeze Sarah’s hand as you leave, hurrying up the stairs as if running from the conversation. She probably wouldn’t be too mad if you told her about last night, but she’d almost definitely tell you that it was a bad idea, that Rafe is a bad influence even all these years later. It was the same way you didn’t tell her about the night at the beach with Rafe, or the countless other nights like that - she’d tell you Rafe was her brother but it wasn’t a good idea. And you weren’t exactly ready to hear that.
You go into the bedroom that had become your own and close the door behind you, just as there is the sound of the ensuite door opening. Rafe steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water dripping around his shoulders, dipping down from his soaked hair.
“Oh shit sorry I-“ Rafe comes to a halt, glancing up from his phone in his hand, “The shower in the other bathroom is terrible so I just… I thought you were downstairs so I-“
“Rafe, it’s fine,” You laugh, “Not anything I haven’t seen before.”
He fakes a gasp, “You’ll embarrass me, (Y/L/N).”
You roll your eyes, “I don’t think anything embarrasses you, Cameron.”
He chuckles and drags a hand through his wet hair, “So, I was thinking we should get out of the house today. I miss the beach when I’m in New York, one of the few things to miss about this place.”
“I actually,” You clear your throat, “I have something to do today.”
Rafe frowns for a second, “Ooh, mysterious,” He stretches out a hand and pokes at your side, “What are you doing?”
“I just,” You shake your head, “I have a meeting, you know, to sort out the house and stuff.”
“Oh, okay, cool,” He nods, “Well, be back by sunset and we can go for a swim. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” You return, “Now please go and get some clothes on.”
“Keep it in your pants, (Y/N), you know you love me,” He wiggles his brows, exaggeratively swaying his hips as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Your eyes settle over the room, landing on the box still sat beside your bed. The rest of it was closed away now, but the shot glass and now your toy giraffe, sat on your nightstand. You smile a little at the sight, thinking only to yourself. It felt like a couple of brightened moments in a week you were sure wasn’t going to get any sense of light. Today would likely be another darkness, but you’d be coming home to another bright place.
~~~
Within the hour, you’re showered, changed and ready to leave, sat on the edge of your bed waiting for James to text. Twelve minutes after he’d said he’d be there, he texts to say he’s outside. You grab your jacket and hurry down the stairs, glancing back to see Rafe and John B stood outside in the garden. John B is pointing something out and he’s holding a plank of wood in one hand as if he’s preparing to build something. Rafe nods along and seemingly agrees, laughing at something John B says that seems to brighten up his eyes. Your heart sinks a little at the guilt that comes with the view, knowing he would hate to think of where you were going right now. But you open the front door and close it quickly behind you, hurrying down to the car waiting with the engine still running.
You open the door and climb in quietly, feeling oddly far when you don’t have to lean over to kiss him in greeting.
“Hey,” You breathe out when he doesn’t make any move to say it first.
“Hi,” James glances at you, “Where do you want to go?”
“Are there really many options?” You frown, settling your hands into your lap and picking at the skin beside your thumb to give you something to focus on.
James chuckles a little and moves to reverse out of the driveway, “Fair point, let’s go.”
He drives you the short distance across the island to the one coffee shop that anyone actually used here. It’s near enough empty as you step through, thanking James for holding the door open for you. You order your regular and he orders his, sitting at a table in the far corner as if sheltering yourself from the world.
“So, I would ask how you’ve been but that feels weird when I saw you yesterday,” James comments, dragging his finger around the rim of the coffee cup on the table, “But how have you been?”
You swallow down a sip of your drink, too hot so it scratches your throat as it goes, “I’m okay, and I’m sorry about last night.”
He shakes his head, “Look, it’s your house too (Y/N), at least until we sort everything out. I just don’t know why you didn’t text me. And why you thought you should just show up in the middle of the night with Rafe?”
You nod as if you’re being told off, “No, I know. It was stupid. It was late and we were just planning on getting in and leaving, I didn’t plan on you seeing him, and I especially didn’t want the two of you to argue, you know that.”
He’s silent in his agreement, pausing for enough time for it to settle before he says, “So why is he here?”
“He’s back from New York for a few days, just coming to see Sarah,” You explain, taking another sip of your drink and wincing as it burns at your tongue.
“Perfect timing,” James raises his brows momentarily as if being sarcastic, “I’m sure he was happy to see you.”
“Wha-“ You pause, reconsidering the idea of starting up an argument that he’s already ignited, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, (Y/N),” James rolls his eyes, “I know the way he used to be with you.”
“We’re friends, we’ve always been friends.”
Perhaps that wasn’t so true, just maybe. Before you and James got together, you’d been so sure that you and Rafe would be inevitable. There was the night you kissed at the party, there was the night on the beach with far too much alcohol, there were countless days and countless nights. Just as you were losing hope of him ever reciprocating your feelings, you’d seen him kiss a girl at another party, and you’d used that as confirmation enough. Two weeks later, you’d gone on your first date with James. Nine years later, you’d still never told Rafe how you’d felt before that - especially since the two of you had started living such different lives.
“I knew how he felt about you, it was obvious. God, the first time I met those guys he acted like I was the worst person he’d ever met,” James scoffs, “I thought he was going to rip my head off when I said we’d be moving away for college. He could’ve done the same last night, too.”
“You know, you don’t get to talk like that anymore. You split up with me. So it shouldn’t matter to you how anyone feels about me, whether or not that’s true,” You defend, tucking your arms around yourself as if closing yourself away from him.
“I don’t think I noticed it when we were in college, it was just me and you in our own little world and for a long time I thought that’s what would make us last. But we moved back here and it’s like everywhere you turn there’s another memory of you two - another piece of him that you’re holding onto even years later.”
“We’re friends. He means a lot to me. That’s what friends are.”
You let the silence fall.
He’s silent too and it surprises you. Normally, he would find any way to keep an argument going if he’d started it, he’d argue back and forth constantly until you agreed - he didn’t just let arguments end.
“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry for the way I ended things. I know I probably didn’t go about things in the right way, but I think if I’d have tried to do anything else I… well, I don’t think I’d have been able to do it.”
You feel the lump grow in your throat, the way it seems to constrict your words just a little too much as you say, “Then why did you?”
He breaks eye contact then and looks down at his cup, his finger still swirling around the edge in continuous circles, “Do you remember the first time we went out?”
“Our first date?”
“I picked you up from your house and I had to wait down the road because your parents might see me. And we went out, and I knew then that this was it for me, like within one date I’d just already decided,” He doesn’t meet your eyes, “And then I walked you home and I stopped around the corner again so that your parents wouldn’t see me. And you walked up to your house and Rafe was sat on the steps up to your porch, just waiting for you to get home.”
Your heart sinks at his words, like a weird feeling of not knowing the inevitable.
“And I guess for the past nine years that’s how it’s always felt; like Rafe was just waiting for you to go back home to him.”
“You’re blaming this on Rafe?” You raise your brows, your words feeling coarse and dry as you speak, “We were together for nine years. I chose you for nine years, every fucking day I chose you, and you want to tell me that you blame this on Rafe? That Rafe’s the reason you broke my heart?”
“Broke your heart,” James repeats, nodding slowly, “Your heart didn’t seem too broken last night.”
You let out a scoff and bite down just a little on the tip of your tongue as if trying to calm the anger bubbling out of you, “Right, yeah. I had one night where I felt a little bit fucking human again, after not sleeping, not eating, crying until I thought I’d be sick. After asking myself over and over and over again - what did I do? what should I have done? what’s wrong with me? And this whole thing you’re just going to blame on Rafe?”
“Where is he right now (Y/N)?”
You stop in your tracks, your hand clenching around the heat of your coffee mug, your words seeming to sink in the air between you.
James takes a long pause, his eyes scanning your face as if waiting for you to find the answer, “Waiting for you to come home.”
~~~
It’s an uncomfortable drive back. Neither of you speak a word. So much so that the tyres suddenly seem to make too much noise on the road, and you feel like you can hear the sound of the wheel turning under his grip. There’s a welcome relief when you watch the car turn into the driveway towards Sarah’s house, and an overwhelming dread when you catch the sight you know that James has seen too.
Rafe is sat on the steps in front of their house, the copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in his hands, a third of the way through the pages. He glances up at the sound of the car, a slight drop in his features as he recognises the face behind the wheel. He sets the book down on the side of the steps and stands up, his jaw clenching as you watch him.
James doesn’t say a word, but there’s the slightest tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips as if he’s been proven right about everything.
You wait until he cuts the engine and pull your seatbelt off, pausing before you push open the door, “I didn’t know that he’d be-“
James opens his own door and pushes himself out before you have a chance to say anything else. You follow suit quickly, scrambling out like the car’s on fire.
“Couldn’t wait to jump on her could you, buddy?” James bellows, storming over to Rafe.
“Excuse me?” Rafe looks taken aback, glancing at you as your eyes catch, “This is the house meeting you were talking about?”
“House meeting?” James looks at you, “So you couldn’t even tell him you were seeing me?”
“I just- I didn’t-“
“So what is it? You’re trying to come crawling back to her?” Rafe interjects and you flick your eyes to him as if a warning, though now he is only focused on James.
“You want to talk about crawling back? It seems pretty fucking convenient that you show your face around here the minute (Y/N)’s not got a boyfriend anymore.”
“Right, yeah, that’s why I’m here. Maybe it’s a good thing I came home, to pick up the pieces of the shit you left her in.”
In a conversation about yourself, you’ve never felt smaller. It’s like you’re shrinking into the space around them, disappearing when all of their anger is fuelled by you and focused on themselves. You’re sure you could disappear and they’d remain - hot headed in their hatred.
“Pick up the pieces? That’s what you think you’re doing?” James laughs, both of them practically steaming in their anger, “You’re not doing fuck all to help when you’re trying to get into her pants two seconds after she’s singl-“
“Enough!” You yell, sounding like the word has come from someone other than yourself as you feel your hands start to tremble.
Both of the boys silence, finally looking away from each other to focus on you, their anger sinking into the same pool as your disapproval. Rafe’s eyes seem to settle back into himself, like a realisation of how he’d been acting - he’d been doing the exact thing that he hated seeing in James, the way he ignored you in favor of his own focus. He looks like his younger self when you watch him. That anger, that hatred, the kind that he’d had before he moved away. That kind that gave him a million more problems. He’s that boy again.
“Just stop doing this, okay?” You drag a hand through your hair, “Neither of you get to talk on my behalf. Neither of you get to choose what’s best for me, or force this narrative of what you think is going on in my life. I’m sick of it. Have this masculinity battle some other time but god do it when I’m not here.”
With that, you disappear around the side of the house, shortcutting through the garden gate and finally letting yourself breathe, the tension in your chest seeming to return.
Rafe looks at James as if he could go again but in that moment all he can think of is you. The disappointment in your face as you’d walked away, the way you looked at him like you didn’t really know him. He drags a hand through his hair and all he can think of is how you tell him you’re sure he could suit any hairstyle. He stops himself from smiling, the urge fading when he looks at James again.
“So, what? Maybe a week or so and you’ll ask her on a date?” James folds his arms over his chest, “Or is a week just too long to wait? Hell, maybe you’ll be engaged within the month.”
“You know what, James,” Rafe clenches and unclenches his jaw, “Just go,” He waves his hand in the boys direction, his body turning away from him as if it’s gravitating back to you.
And with only the thought of you, he backs away from the fight.
~~~
You’re sat on the half-made dock at the end of Sarah and John B’s lawn, your feet pushing through the surface of the water aimlessly, eyes focused on the way the water curves around your ankles. Your chest has seemingly settled now but if you let yourself think of everything for too long it seems to flurry in anxiety again.
“Can I sit? Or should I put myself in time out?” The words come with the sound of footsteps creaking along the wooden planks, pausing as if they’re sure they are a safe distance from you.
You don’t turn around, “Sit, as long as you promise to be quiet.”
Rafe mumbles a ‘yes ma’am’ and takes his spot on the edge of the dock beside you. You feel him looking at you, his eyes burning into you as they scan your face. You weren’t crying and it seems to relieve the tiniest bit of worry within him. But you looked drained. Not tired in the way you were when he first saw you - but drained in the way that life seems to have been just slightly pulled away from you.
He opens his mouth to speak but stops as you lean back, fingers linking between your hands over your stomach as you lay against the dock. The sun hangs bright above you and you close your eyes, a deep breath forcing a rise and fall in your chest. Rafe watches you, the innocence in your features. He’d relied on those exact features for a lot of moments in his life. Your smile when he needed reminding of a good memory, the way your jaw clenches when you’re angry when he needed reminding of when he was in the wrong. Your eyes when he needed to come back home.
After a moment, he leans himself back too, his shirt wrinkling against the wood as he lays down, one arm tucking underneath his head. He turns his face towards you, observing.
You poke one eye open and squint in his direction, “Stop staring, weirdo.”
Rafe smiles, “So you’re not completely ignoring me,” He nods his head a little against his arm, “Does that mean I’m at like a six on the scale?”
“The scale?”
“The scale. How mad you are at something, you don’t remember?”
Of course you remember. When the two of you had been at school, he’d used that ‘scale’ as a way of you telling him how bad your day was - on the days when you had exams, and your friends were being shitty, and your parents were having problems at home, you’d say you were closer to a 10. It applied to everything - when he annoyed you, when you and Sarah had argued over something silly, everything.
“I’m a seven.”
He laughs a little and it seems to sit welcomingly in the space between you, easing the clench in your chest just enough.
The two of you stay in silence for a while after that, watching the sun disappear momentarily behind a cloud, casting a welcome shade over the water. You focus on the rise and fall of your chest, breathing in and out deeply to avoid the discomfort coming from laying on the dock. Rafe stays still beside you for a while, before his leg slightly shifts to the side so that his knee knocks against yours. You fight back a smile and turn around to look at him;
“Yes?” You raise your brows.
He pushes himself up so he’s leaning over you on his elbows, his head blocking the sun out so you can look at him without completely squinting against the light.
“I’m sorry,” He nods, “I really did have no idea you were with him, I was just waiting until you got back. And I don’t know, as soon as he said that I just felt like I lost it. It was weird, I don’t think I’ve felt angry like that in years.”
You nod in response, watching the guilt cast a darkness over his features.
“How did it go with you two today?”
You push yourself to lean up on your elbows too, matching his stance as he settles back to his side of the dock.
“Well, he’s not your biggest fan,” You laugh a little, staring out on the stillness of the water, “I don’t know, it just seems like he wants to think our relationship was doomed from the start, like we were just putting off the inevitable.”
“Well, did you ever feel like that?”
You take a deep breath, “I don’t think so. I don’t know, I just thought we’d stay together. God, I think after our third anniversary I was pretty certain that this would be it. But after what he said today it just feels like the two of us had been in two different relationships for all this time. And now I’m thinking, why didn’t he ever propose? Why did he want to move back here when I had my whole life at college? I mean, shit, Sarah’s having a kid and I was still just a girlfriend after nine years.”
Rafe nods, “Yeah I know what you mean. He was crazy for not wanting to marry you after all that time.”
You turn your head to look at him but he stays looking out over the water dismissively.
“God, who wouldn’t want to marry you?”
You feel your heart swell for just a second and turn your head away from him to look back over the water, both of you letting the silence fill in the empty gaps of the conversation you hadn’t yet had, that you didn’t need to have just yet.
“So, the sun is about an hour from setting,” Rafe points out, “How about that swim?”
~~~
You make your way back downstairs with your swimsuit on, a towel held under one arm, your flip-flops slapping against the wooden steps.
“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you today, how did it go with James?” Sarah stands up from the couch as you come downstairs, “Are you going out?”
You glance out at the garden, Rafe not visible along the stretch of the lawn, “Yeah, I’m just going for a swim. And it went well with James, a little bit of closure at least. Still feels weird.”
“It’s bound to,” Sarah nods, reaching out a hand to squeeze your arm, “Did you tell Rafe that you saw him?”
“Um, yeah, yeah, he knows,” You scratch at the back of your neck.
“God, I’m surprised he didn’t flip. I don’t think there’s anyone he hates as much as he hates James,” Sarah shakes her head.
You’re about to speak again but are cut off by the sound of the garden door sliding open. Rafe appears on the other side, poking his head through the created gap between the door and the wall.
“You ready to go (Y/L/N)?” He looks at you, a soft smile on his lips, a sort of calm resting in his features.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” You return softly and he nods, disappearing again.
“He’s so different when he sees you,” Sarah shakes her head, glancing over at the spot where her brother had just been.
“Different how?” You frown, letting your eyes trail back to her.
She shrugs her shoulders and rests a hand over her bump, running her fingers over the skin, “Just like he’s grounded, like he’s home.”
You feel the lump form in your throat, the way it once again makes it feel impossible to think of anything to say.
“Go on, he might be grounded but he’s still impatient,” Sarah jokes, gesturing her head in the direction of the door.
You laugh and follow her instruction, closing the glass door behind you as you walk down to the dock. Rafe is sat on the edge, his legs dangling over into the water. In only his swim-shorts, you can see the contortions of his muscles across his shoulders, the way they dip in his skin and seem to make him look bigger than he ever seemed normally. His skin isn’t as tanned as you remember him being but you suppose he doesn’t get as much sun when he’s in New York - not the kind he got here, anyway. And part of you seems to remember just how distant he was nowadays, his return feeling all the more temporary.
You hang your towel over the edge of the dock next to his and pull off your flip flops, leaving them at the edge too before breaking into a sprint straight past him. Your arms outstretch in front of you and break the surface of the water first, submerging your underneath until your toes feel the cold of the still water too.
Your head breaks the surface and you drag your hands up to draw your hair way from your face, now slick against your scalp.
“Very graceful,” Rafe smirks, “How on earth do I follow that?”
You watch him stand from the dock, stretching upwards before taking a few steps back. Within a split second, he catapults himself into the air, drawing his knees upwards so that he lands in a cannonball into the water, spray dispersing into the air and all over you.
“Well, I wouldn’t call that graceful,” You laugh, blinking away the water from your eyes.
From where Sarah and John B’s house was, you could see the sunset through a clearing in the trees if you swam around to the right angle. And you and Rafe knew the islands well enough to know exactly where to go.
By the time you swim around, the sky is painted with a yellow hue, sun lowering down seemingly a few feet from the horizon.
“I’m sorry about today,” Rafe breaks the silence, turning himself in the water to face you.
You kick forward so that your body tilts back, head hanging into the surface water, “You already said that.”
“I know, I just hate when I feel like I’ve disappointed you,” He comments, watching the way your body floats in the water.
You smile a little to the sky, “You didn’t disappoint me.”
He pauses for a moment, “So, I didn’t ask you earlier but, did he tell you the reason why he ended things?”
Your body tilts to turn you upright once again in the water, hands pushing through either side of you to maintain your position, eyes locking onto him. His hair is slick against his head and there are small beads of water trailing down either side of his cheeks, looping around under his jawline. He’s home. For the first time in years, he’s back here and it feels like it’s actually him - not some replaced or changed version. You’re both back to being sixteen again, sneaking liquor out of your houses, staying up until the sun called you home, misfit ways of surviving life in this isolated haven. And you realise it then, for a fleeting moment where you let yourself accept it - it’s Rafe that makes this place home.
“He…” Your voice trails off then, considering every possible outcome that would come in return for telling Rafe exactly what had been said earlier, exactly what you’d come to learn.
But the moment is fleeting. And you’re back in seconds to a reality. To a broken heart and a broken home, to New York, to your future, to James, to Sarah just a matter of metres away, to everything and everyone that you didn’t want to lose. To Rafe.
“He couldn’t give me a reason,” You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes not breaking away from Rafe.
“The guy’s an idiot,” Rafe shakes his head, turning away from you and towards the sun.
You watch as he does, watching the glow that radiates from his skin, the way it seems to warm the air around him.
James might be an idiot, but maybe he was right.
———
Taglist: @viianey
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galaxies-can-collide · 2 years ago
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You are the new girl
Pt. 1
Summary: Y/N is new in town and comes across two beautiful boys that both spark and interest in her. Which boy will she choose....
Warnings: Just some cute stuff, romance, 18+ still to come
Word Count: 2.7k words (tbf this whole story is over 10k words)
Author Note: I am new to this whole thing, and this is my first post, so be gentle. But also let me know your thoughts and if you want more? I have written so much of this but am always willing to make changes.
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You were new to the outer banks, having moved down only two days ago with your dad. It was just you and him, your mom walked out on the two of you when you were 8 and she never looked back. You did not mind it being just the two of you, he did everything for you, to make sure you had everything you wanted, or at least what he could afford to give you. Your dad was a contract Architect working on a new build upon Tannyhill. He had told me that Mr. Cameron wanted a new pool house where he would put all his boating and scuba equipment. Must be nice to have that kind of money at your reach, you lived a very different life, you and your dad just getting by so when he got this job opportunity he could not pass it up. As for the reason that we had to relocate was because we lived too far away for my dad to have to drive down every day and Mr. Cameron insisted on us living in his second house just off the side of Tannyhill. You were not too happy on the fact that he was up and relocating your whole life for a 1 year contract work but you couldn’t fight him because we really needed the money.  You moved the Friday and spent the whole weekend getting your house sorted for your dad and you while he went to the Cameron’s to discuss the plans for the future pool house, you spent majority of the weekend unpacking boxes and getting everything in order. The house thankfully already had furniture so it was just a matter of unpacking all the little trinkets and things to make it feel a bit more like home, leaving your clothing boxes for last as you knew that was a mountain to climb on its own. 
You had just turned 18 and had made some really great friends in your old school and to have to leave them in your last year of school really put your dad in your bad books and he knew that so he did everything to make your stay great, although it did not turn out too well for him as he was always busy at the Cameron’s, early mornings and late nights and you barely saw him. You moved In the summer so you still had time before school started which you were absolutely dreading being the new kid. You had got to explore a bit during the few days off and you had come to learn that the island was split in two parts, the rich and the poor and even though you would not consider yourself rich you were staying on the ‘kook’ side of the island, much to your dismay as you had come to learn that they were not nice people. You had never met one of the kooks but from what you heard they were snobs who knew they had money and did not care to show it.
The Monday before school started you had decided to go for a stroll down to the docks and came across a group of teens that looked about your age, from the way they were dressed you assumed they were pogues, the poorer side, as they say. You went and introduced yourself in the hopes they went to the same school and were nice, it would be nice to at least know a few people at school so that you were not completely alone. 
 You walked up to them and shyly introduced yourself, “Hi I’m Y/N”, you said and they all looked up a little shocked but soon their sheepish faces turned to smiles as they all introduced themselves. The first was a curly, brown haired girl, “Hi Y/N, lovely to meet you I am Kiara” you smiled and shook her hand the next one who looked a little more put together than the rest was a blonde haired girl, “Hiya, I am Sarah”, you smiled back to her, the next to say hello were two boys almost simultaneously saying “Hello” they soon introduced themselves as John B and Pope. They all seemed lovely, except there was one boy that had not yet said anything, to be fair I do not think he had noticed you coming up to them as he was distracted with something else.
 He would soon draw his attention to you, his eyes glistened a little in the sun and you noticed his beautiful blonde hair and his piercing blue eyes looking directly at you, you smiled as he scanned you up and down, his eyes lingering a little too long on your figure, making you blush a little. You were becoming more aware that the shorts you were wearing were very short and the small shirt covering your boobs was a little to see through, you swiftly crossed your arms across your chest causing the blonde haired boy to blush as he realised he had been staring and you had noticed. He got up from where he as sitting and made his way over to you as he got to you he said so smoothly “Well you must be new here because I would have noticed someone as breath-taking as you walking around her, hi I’m JJ. And it is my pleasure to meet you”, you could not help but blush and let a small smile creep up to your lips and you said a shy “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N” back to him.
 After all the introductions were done, noticing that JJ had been taking small stares at you thinking you were noticing, Kiara had asked you if you were new to town as she nor the others had seen you around at all. You went on to say, “ I actually moved here around 4 days ago with my Dad, he is an architect and he is currently contracting for some guy named Ward Cameron, we had to relocate cause it was too far for my dad to drive everyday so Ward was nice enough to offer us a place to stay while my dad got to work”, Sarah’s mouth was almost agape but with a hint of a smile, she almost exploded out and said “Oh my God, no fucking way, so you must be the girl staying in our old house” You were a bit confused at first then starting putting the pieces together, your dad had mentioned Ward had 3 kids, a daughter your age, a son a year older and another daughter a few years younger you could not quite remember their names, but you now gathered Sarah was the daughter your age. She immediately ran over and gave you a big hug and continued saying “We are going to be such good friends, well me, you and the pogues”
You all got to talking and found out you would all be going to the same school, all apart from Sarah who was in a more expensive school, one that we could not afford, but I was okay with that as you knew you would have the rest of the pogues. They filled you in on how Sarah was dating John B and no longer really considered herself a Kook as she got along more with the pogues, during your whole exchanging of stories with the pogues you kept noticing JJ’s wondering eye that constantly gravitated toward you but you obviously also had a wondering eye as you and him would make constant eye contact and both smile sheepishly and look away while you blushed bright red. 
 As it got later, you knew it was time to go home, as your dads rules were when the sun goes down and the street lights come on you need to be home, he was unaware of the area and did not want you wondering around alone at night. You said bye to the gang and assured them you would see them the next day at school, Sarah offered to walk with you as you two were staying on the same plot of land, which was nice of her and it gave you time to get to know her and maybe find out more about JJ. But almost poetically just as you were walking away JJ ran up to you and Sarah and grabbed your wrist to make you face him. You were shocked at first as was Sarah but were curious to hear what he has to say, “Hey, uhm, I was uhm wondering if you would like to go for a ride tomorrow after school, I know a really cool spot for a picnic If you would like, get to know the area and me a little more. I mean if that is something you want?”, you could tell he was nervous in asking you from the way he was rubbing the back of his head and frantically searching your eyes for any sign of an answer. He seemed to loosen up a little when he saw you smile and nod your head along with a “Yes, JJ, I would love nothing more than that, after school yea?” he nodded in response and you turned and walked away with Sarah giggling by your side. Your short walk home was filled with little conversations about the area and her relationship with John B and her ex Topper and her brother Rafe. As we got to the fork of the road, one leading to Tannyhill and one to the house I was staying in, I was about to say bye when she invited me over for dinner to meet her family. You felt bad to say no as you did want to meet her family especially as they were giving you some place to stay so you agreed and she shot a big smile across her face and dragged your hand towards the house. 
 As you got closer you realised just how big the house was and just how much money the Cameron’s must have, you were taken back and at a loss for words, it was almost as if she read your mind as you got to the front door as she piped up and said “I know, it is a lot to take in, a bit much if you ask me but that is Ward Cameron for you”
You walked in with her as she introduced you to Rose her stepmother, and Wheezie her younger sister who were both in the kitchen cooking up a storm, you introduced yourself and they were both happy to have you over, Sarah then dragged you upstairs to her dads office where she introduced you to her dad, “Hey Dad, this is Y/N, she is Y/D/N daughter, I invited her over for dinner, I hope that is alright?”, he got up from the desk he was sitting at and walked over to you, he carried himself with wealth and pride and you kind of admired him for the life he has built for himself and his family. He reached his hand out to shake yours and you complied, “Hi Y/N, I am Ward, lovely to meet you. Your dad is a very talented man and I think he will do wonders here”, “Thank you, he is pretty great”, you replied. He continued “Also, of course it is fine that you stay for dinner, next time bring your old man up here too” you simply nodded as Sarah dragged you out of his office and downstairs. 
 But there was a different plan for you, as you exited Ward’s office, you had bumped hard into the chest of a very tall man, as you looked up you stared into these piercing blue eyes and a slight smirk that crossed his face. 
The tall man grabbed your elbows as to stop you from falling over, you immediately started apologising for not looking where you were going. “I am so sorry, I really need to watch where I am going”, you half hated yourself for being so clumsy, he hushed you in the softest voice, “Don’t worry about it gorgeous, you can bump into me anytime” he said with a wink. Sarah then stepped in and I soon realised that this must be Rafe, her brother, although a warning on how handsome this man was would have been nice. “Rafe, back up off her man” Sarah said and you were kind of angry that she did and you wanted to be up close to him and smell his cologne. 
 “Also, stop flirting, you have a girlfriend”, she continued. Your face instantly dropped at the thought of his girlfriend, not that you had a chance anyway. Rafe seemed to have noticed this sudden shift in your demeanour and that intrigued him, although he was taken he had never seen someone so perfect and so soft in his life. It made him want to know everything about her, and where she came from and why she was here which is weird as he had spoken but a mere word to her.
 “This is Y/N, her dad is building the new pool house. I would appreciate if you did not corrupt her as she is staying on the property.” Sarah interrupted the longing look between the two of you, noticing that Rafe’s hand was still holding your elbow, which did not go unnoticed by you either, but you could not bring yourself to pull away.
But after Sarah made that statement he retracted his hand and moved slightly back “You know Sarah, this might come as a shock but not ever girl I meet, I want to fuck. I am taken, remember” Rafe stated harshly, and he cursed himself for saying those words because there was something about you that he could not quite put his finger on but he wanted more. Sarah scoffed and pulled you with her, but just as she walked away Rafe mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, “God, she is so fucking beautiful” as he muttered these words he had caught on that you heard and he blushed at the thought. He winked at you as you were being pulled away and you knew that this would not be your last encounter with Rafe Cameron. 
Rafe’s POV: 
He has just gotten off the phone with his girlfriend, surprise, surprise another fight, he was so sick of the arguments and fights. Quite frankly he did not love her anymore, he hadn’t for a while now and he knew he had to end it. He wanted to chat to his dad and see if he could give him any advice on what to do. As he exited his room and made his way to his dads office Sarah had walked out, but he hadn’t noticed the girl following closely behind her. She had bumped right into his chest and he grabbed her elbows to steady her so that she did not fall over, although when he looked down to see who it was he was taken back by her absolute beauty, he had never seen someone so beautiful and he did not know what to say. He was mesmerised, he wanted to know who this was. He noticed her long blonde hair, that seemed to have lighter streaks all over, but looked natural. He noticed her beautiful green/blue eyes. He was hooked on her smell, let alone her looks. 
After I had finished taking in every inch of her she started apologising, I said to her “Don’t worry about it gorgeous, you can bump into me anytime” and saw a shy smile creep on her lips, probably the most breath-taking smile you have ever seen. Sarah obviously stuck her nose in it and ruined it and said I had a girlfriend, unaware of the fact that we were basically on waters edge. At the mention of a girlfriend her face dropped and I was intrigued, did she feel the same way about me as I did her. But my brain is too slow for my stupid mouth and I said some cocky line that I instantly regretted. I found out her name was Y/N, the most gorgeous name, and that she was staying on the property. This was the best news.
Sarah pulled her away and I mumbled under my breath unable to keep it to myself and she heard me and I was part glad that she did so that she was aware and with that I winked at her and she was gone. I had a feeling that this would not be my last encounter with her, I really hoped it wasn’t 
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itneverendshere · 5 months ago
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i don’t remember if any of you asked to be tagged on the last chapter of the other side of paradise 😹 im sorry if you did but my comments aren’t showing up right idk why😔 either way, the chapter is up and currently on my masterlist if you want to read 🩷 thank you so much for tuning in and loving rafe and maybank!reader like i do 🩷 loved writing every second of it.
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maybanksprincess · 1 month ago
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trouble sleeping? // j.m
warnings: fluff, cuddling, kissing, pet names.
summary: jjs girlfriend is having trouble sleeping <3
small blurb for my baby @jjblunts requested by this ask, i hope you like it!
for a couple days now, you've been having sleeping problems. when you lay in bed, you toss and turn for hours until you fall asleep, waking up with a sore back and grouchy from the lack of sleep.
however, jj has been noticing the slight changes in appearance and mood from you. he's been noticing dark circles starting to form, and the way you've been super quiet all day, and drinking multiple cups of coffee to stay awake.
he didnt know what was going on, but he knew he wanted to help. so tonight, instead of laying on the couch, he comes in to sleep with you instead.
you had been laying on your back, desperately trying to get just an ounce of sleep, but there was no use. you let out a huff of frustration and turn onto your side, hugging the pillows close to you.
as your fighting to fall asleep, you hear the door creaking, meaning someone has entered the room. you open you eyes to see the blonde standing above you.
he reaches down to carress your cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb across it. "hey babydoll. you cant sleep?" he asks softly.
you smile softly up at him, a tired and weak smile on your face. "no..." you shake your head.
he sighs, sliding into bed next to you gently moving you over by your waist to make room for him. "why didn't you tell me baby? you know i would've came to sleep with you." he says, running his fingers through your hair gently.
you lean into his touch, resting your head on his pec. "i dunno, didn't wanna bother you..."
he chuckles softly "baby your never bothering me. jus' go to sleep, hm?" he says, and moves your hair away from your face to kiss your forehead.
within minutes, your softly snoring in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck.
he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. "sweet dreams, sweetheart." he says before falling asleep, holding your body against his protectively.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 months ago
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nah cause all i can think abt it rafe being an absolute DICKHEAD to everyone but you. like he 180 changes when ur around and it completely baffles everyone.
OOOOH yes. everyone tellin you “he’s a dickhead, I don’t get why you’re with him.” And youre like “wdym? he’s the sweetest boy ever.” because you nd him and literally like this everyday
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his friends hate it sm. I imagine it would go something like this
🪷 ꪆৎ 🕊️‧₊˚♡︎
Everywhere Rafe went, you followed. His friends never had the balls to say anything and just let it happen.
At parties, he was drinking and leaning in his chair, talking to Barry, who currently smoked a joint. A man sat in front of them, offering them an amount of money for the gold from the cross.
Rafe shook his head at the offer.
“That all?” Rafe asked him, unamused.
“I mean,” the dude scoffed. “How much would you take for it?”
“This bar is at least 5 grand. If you don’t got the money, fuckin’ stop wasting my time.”
“How is that five grand?”
Rafe rolled his eyes, irritated as he shut the case the gold was kept it. “Yo, what the fuck did I just say? Stop wasting my time. Get the fuck out.” He nodded, the man scoffing and shaking his head, standing up and walking away.
Rafe seemed irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his face rested in an annoyed expression. That was until he glanced up and saw you walking towards him.
The man that had tried to buy the gold pushed past you, making you furrow your eyebrows at his rudeness.
Rafe had seen it, his irritation and anger bubbling once again. You just shrugged it off as you continued your stride to your boyfriend.
And he saw your bubbly demeanor, bouncing around happily as you walked towards him with the sweetest smile. He melted, the corners of his lips twisting up to form a smile. You fell into his lap, clearly drunk as you slurred out his name happily, hiding your face in his shoulder.
“Hey, baby.” He mumbled softly and quietly, hands rubbing circles on your legs.
Barry raised his eyebrows at Rafe, Rafe motioning for him to leave, his old glare back before he turned his attention back to you.
“You tired?” He asked you quietly.
“Yeah. Wanna go home, Rafey.” You whined and complained. And with anyone else, the nickname would have had someone 6 feet under.
“Alright. We’ll go home. Lemme just clean up here, Kay’?” He patted your ass softly, gently getting you off his lap.
“‘Kay.” You mumbled tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waiting, but before he could even turn around to you, you were fast asleep on the couch.
He sighed, shaking his head and smiling again to himself.
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nadvs · 14 days ago
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wish you’d ask me (one-shot)
pairing zach maclaren x female reader
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summary you and your friend zach are on your way to a weekend retreat when suddenly, you wake up in the hospital with a concussion. zach is relieved you’re okay, until he realizes that you’re under the impression that he’s your boyfriend.
tags plot-flip of ‘the other zoey’ where reader loses her memory. college setting. friends to lovers. mutual pining. mentioned song is ‘red love’ by dream ivory (zach gives indie soft boy yfm). angst and fluff. no smut. hugs to my zach girlies @juniebugg & @nemesyaaa <3 divider credit.
» masterlist
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››› friday
“Uh oh,” you mumble.
“What is it?” Zach asks. His gaze is fixed ahead, the snowy road a stretch of glittering white under the afternoon sun. You bring your phone up closer to your face.
“Chase just texted the group,” you explain. “Apparently, the furnace broke.”
“Uh oh,” he echoes.
“Exactly,” you say with a defeated laugh. “What now? Do we cancel? We can’t be out there all weekend with no heat.”
Zach checks the time on his dashboard to see you have thirty minutes left of the drive to the cabin you rented with your friends. The four of them are already there, waiting for you two.
“Nevermind,” you say. “Esha texted. The only thing broken is Chase’s sense of humor. I’m this close to throwing him outside and locking the door.”
You hold up your hand in a pinching motion.
“And she used this emoji,” you explain with a giggle.
Zach’s eyes drift to you, an endeared smile pulling on his lips.
“Appreciate the demonstration,” he says.
He reaches a red light and forces himself not to stare at you. He’s afraid that one day, his feelings for you will refuse to stay stuck in his heart and he’ll just blurt them out.
The past hour in the car with you has been a dream. Really, any time he spends with you is a dream. You’re usually all together as a group, so he cherishes the rare moments he gets to be alone with you.
He knows admitting his feelings to you comes with the risk of losing your friendship and fracturing the bond you both have in the group. But sometimes, it’s like keeping them in actually physically hurts.
“What’s your favorite emoji?” you ask. “No, wait.” You think back to the texts you’ve exchanged over the many months you’ve been friends. “I already know. It’s the guy running. Your version of saying on my way.”
“It’s efficient,” he replies with a shrug.
“Okay, so, what’s your second favorite emoji?” you say.
Zach laughs heartily and says, “You never run out of questions.”
“Do you mean that in a ‘you’re so much fun’ way,” you ask, “or in a ‘I’m too nice to say it, but shut up’ way?”
“Please don’t shut up,” he says in a rush. “You’re keeping me entertained.”
“It’s the least I can do after you stayed back for me.”
You were the only person in your friend group who had a class you couldn’t miss today. Zach offered to leave for the cabin with you, saying he had an important essay he wanted to finish this morning anyway, while everyone else drove up last night.
He had already finished that essay two days ago.
“It was no problem,” he replies. He means it. Nothing is too difficult for him if it’s for you.
“I’ll still pay you back,” you say. You stifle a yawn, fighting off the fatigue that’s been melting into you for the past hour. “What can I get you? What do you want most in the world?”
Zach chews on his bottom lip, pretending to think, when really, what he wants most in the world is sitting in his passenger seat, the prettiest and kindest girl he’s ever known, her gaze burning into him in his peripheral vision.
“A life-changing cup of hot cocoa,” he replies.
“Big ask, but you got it,” you agree with a laugh. “You can enjoy it in your grandpa pj’s.”
Zach smirks. A few nights ago, on a group video call, you amusedly pointed out the plaid button-up he was wearing in bed.
“They’re comfortable,” he counters.
“They’re still pajamas an old man would wear,” you tease. Your phone buzzes in your lap. “It’s Chase. Esha ruined my prank. Scaring us that we’ll freeze? What kind of prank is that?”
“He’s ridiculous,” Zach laughs.
The six of you met back when you were put together for a group project. You all got along so well that you started hanging out outside of class. Zach has grown to deeply care for everyone in the group. You, especially.
“I’ve been playing my music this whole ride,” you realize. “It’s only fair that you get to choose the songs for the last stretch.”
“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re a good dj.”
“For once in your life, stop being so nice and just play what you want,” you tease. “Since your phone is the GPS, we can keep using mine. Do you have any public playlists?”
He scratches his cheek, nerves filling his chest.
“You’ll make fun of me,” he says.
“Zachary,” you gasp. “When have I ever made fun of you?”
“Like, a minute ago.”
“Other than that.”
“Five minutes ago?”
You laugh again and Zach swears it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Nicer than any song either of you could put on.
“My music is either workout stuff or just… sappy,” he admits.
“I’d expect nothing less,” you respond with a chuckle. “No pressure, but I promise, I won’t judge.”
He breathes a laugh and tells you his username, praying he can keep a straight face if the songs he listens to when he’s thinking about you play.
You tap on the playlist he titled ‘Relaxing’ and sink back in your seat as you gaze out the window. The glass is a little fogged, the world looking like it was dusted with powdered sugar.
The gentle guitar spills out of the speakers as your eyes travel over snow-covered peaks of evergreens that line the road.
Your heart pulls once you hear the song’s first lines, curious if Zach relates to them.
I’m the type of guy, trying not to fight
Not so perfect but I always try to bring the light
He’s easygoing and optimistic – that much is true. But not so perfect? If you had the chance, you’d tell him how perfect he is, over and over again.
Your eyes slowly flutter shut, lulled by the melody. You tell yourself not to daydream about the man sitting next to you when you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same way you do, but it’s easier said than done.
You can’t help it. The longer you’re Zach’s friend, the more you have to yearn for. You’re convinced he has the purest heart you’ve ever known.
But through the conversations you’ve had with your friends about your love lives, you’ve learned that Zach is a romantic, never nervous to pursue a girl he likes. And if he liked you, you’re sure he’d have told you by now.
When you swore Esha and Maggie to secrecy regarding your crush on him, they were confident he feels the same way. You still aren’t.
I don’t wanna feel insecure about a thing
But she makes me feel like I don’t even know what’s happening
Pull me closer and it’s like I forget what was wrong
The thought of pulling Zach closer, of making his insecurities and problems go away makes your stomach twist with warmth.
And then, you’re lying in bed with him, cocooned in a fluffy duvet, your hand on his cheek as you gaze at him. Your heart is full, the air buzzing with love. He worryingly asks you if you slept enough. You nod and he tells you how beautiful you are and you press your lips on his.
Sudden stillness stirs you awake. You meet his sweet blue eyes.
Oh. You fell asleep. And you had a dream about Zach so tender that your heart is still racing, your lips tingling from the kisses he never even gave you.
“Did we make it?” you murmur, tumbling back into reality, grounding yourself in the fact that you’re in a parked car, not a cozy bed.
“Not yet,” Zach says. “I wanted to make a quick stop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
You look through the windshield to see a convenience store sign, the bottom skirted in translucent icicles.
“It’s okay,” you stutter, unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”
Cold air pricks your cheeks when you step out of the car. Even though Zach has no idea what your subconscious just threw you into, it’s embarrassing to be around him after such an romantic dream.
You round the car and approach the front door, which Zach is holding open for you. In your daze, you realize you forgot your wallet.
“My wallet,” you say in a hush, turning back.
“I’ll cover it,” Zach offers.
But you’re already scurrying to the car. And then, you lose your balance.
.❅❅❅.
The weight in Zach’s stomach is catastrophically heavy.
You’ve been in a confused daze since your fall. And he’s worried sick.
He stands next to you as you sit in bed, blinking slowly. Since he helped pick you up off the icy concrete and drove you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been slowly coming to your senses.
The doctor comes in and asks a few questions. You get the first few right – your full name, your date of birth, your major, your address. All said confidently, even through the fog blocking your mind.
That’s a relief.
But then, you’re not sure what day of the week it is. You can’t tell her what you had for breakfast. And, most confusing of all, when the doctor asks if you know who he is, you say, “Zach. My boyfriend.”
He swallows hard, the word fluttering in his mind. Boyfriend?
The doctor runs a few tests, checking your coordination and reflexes, then offers a sympathetic grimace.
“You have a mild concussion. You’re not showing any serious signs I’m concerned about, but we should do a CT scan just in case.” The doctor looks to Zach. “Can you come with me to help book it?”
He nods, giving you one more worried glance before he trails the doctor out of the room.
After he tucks the appointment card in his wallet, he listens to the doctor’s instructions. Rest. Hydrate. Reduce stress. No screens. Come back if symptoms worsen.
“What if she’s remembering things wrong?” Zach asks. “I… uh, I’m not her boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
“Her memory will likely come back to her in pieces,” the doctor reassures. “It’s normal that things are jumbled. She’ll be fragile for a bit.”
“What do I do? Is it best for her healing if I play along?”
“The less stress on her brain, the better,” she says. “You can calmly tell her what she has wrong or let her believe the minor, harmless things until she’s herself again. I’m sure she’ll be better soon and you won’t even have to correct her.”
Zach’s chest strains in anxiety, worried that he’ll mess something up. The last thing he wants to do is impede your healing by stressing you out.
When he comes back into the room, your eyes light up in a way they never have for him before. He tries not to let it get to him.
“Hey,” you say lazily, gazing at him with adoration. “Is it booked? Can we go now? We’re so late.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” he says softly. “You’re injured.”
You giggle, stretching your arm out. Hesitatingly, Zach steps closer, letting you warmly hold his hand atop the thin blanket. He feels guilty for enjoying it.
“Did you tell them what happened?” you ask.
“Yeah, I – uh, I…” He begins to stammer as you gently run your fingers over his knuckles. “I should update them, actually.”
He pulls away abruptly, taking his phone out, brows furrowed. A simple touch from you is overwhelming enough, let alone when you’re only doing it because you’re concussed and confused.
You watch him text, his expression tense. He’s always like this, so worried about you. You think back to a few days ago, when he was concerned you didn’t get enough sleep as you lazed in bed together.
“Relax,” you say gently. “She said it was mild, right?”
“Yeah.” Zach keeps his eyes on the screen, unsure of how to tell your friends you’re under the impression you’re dating. “You just need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal soon.”
.❅❅❅.
You catch up on the group texts you missed after your fall when you settle in Zach’s car. You’re reading the last message, which is Esha saying something about seeing you soon when Zach turns on the engine.
You can’t quite make out the words. Then you realize Zach’s been trying to talk to you.
“What?” you say.
“You shouldn’t look at a screen,” he says gently.
“Right.” You lower your phone. “I can barely read right now anyway.”
“Can you put your seatbelt on?”
“Yes.” You turn, the motion suddenly making you dizzy. Your eyes pinch shut and you hold your head with a pained sigh.
Zach has never been more upset at himself. He’s supposed to be taking care of you. The doctor called you fragile. He’s already messing up.
“Sorry,” he says. “Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
He leans over, pulling your seatbelt into the buckle. You keep your eyes shut, feeling his forehead brush against your cheek, enjoying the warm, rich fragrance that’s so Zach.
You might not remember everything, but you remember how much you love the way he smells.
“Thanks, baby,” you murmur and plant a kiss on his temple.
Zach’s stomach goes wild with butterflies. Heavy guilt sets in again. He can’t go on like this. It feels wrong to play along.
He pulls back and you look at him past heavy lids.
“We should talk,” he says, “about our friendship.”
He has no idea how to navigate this conversation. The doctor said to correct you calmly. There’s nothing calm about the way his heart is pounding right now.
“We haven’t told them, have we?” you ask. “I can’t remember ever acting like a couple around them. Is that what you mean?”
You think he’s talking about your friendships with the group waiting at the cabin.
This might be the best way to do this.
He’ll let you believe that you’re keeping your relationship under wraps. He’ll avoid any opportunity to be alone with you until your mind is straight again. And eventually, it’ll come to you that you and him aren’t actually together.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “We have to act like we’re just friends in front of them.”
“Why’d we decide to do that again?” you ask.
Zach nervously taps his knee.
“Malek had a really bad breakup,” he explains. “We didn’t want to rub it in his face.”
“Oh, yeah,” you say. The memory comes to you, choppy but clear enough. “Dumped via text. Poor guy.”
He flashes a relieved smile. It’s reassuring that you remember something that happened a week ago.
“Right,” he says. He puts the car in drive. The sooner he gets to the cabin, the sooner he can stop putting on this act. “We should get going.”
.❅❅❅.
Your friends are quiet and reluctant to come too close when you step into the cabin.
“Guys, I’m fine,” you laugh.
“How are you feeling?” Maggie asks, wide-eyed. “Do you remember me?”
“Of course,” you say. “It’s just a headache now.”
“You should sit down,” Zach urges behind you. He puts down the bags he brought in from the car that he refused to let you carry.
“It feels like I’ve been sitting all day,” you say. “Except for the part when I fell.”
“So, we can joke about it?” Chase asks with a grin.
“No,” Zach says. “Too soon.”
You look at him over your shoulder, chuckling.
“I think Zach’s more traumatized than I am,” you say.
“What happened exactly?” Esha asks, waving you in.
You step further into the cabin, struck by the enormous living room windows. They present a stunning view of snowy hills and picturesque cottages under the setting sun.
If it weren’t for the stubborn ache pulsing in your forehead, you’d want to explore more of the cabin. But Zach’s right. You should sit down. That walk from the car was enough exercise. You’re already dizzy again.
“It’s my fault,” Zach replies. “I stopped at some random store and that’s where she fell.”
You meet his eyes, heart breaking at the pained expression on his face. You wish you weren’t putting on a farce right now, because if you could do what you wanted, you’d pull him into a hug.
“It’s not your fault I don’t know how to walk,” you joke.
“You fell in the store?” Chase asks.
“Parking lot,” you say. “To get my wallet. Even though Zach said I didn’t need to. So, technically, it’s on me.”
You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convinced. He’s blaming himself for this entirely.
You sit down for dinner, downing the water Zach encouraged you to drink, while he catches everyone up on how to help support your healing process.
“How do you know all this?” Maggie asks. “Concussions from playing soccer?”
“I asked the doctor,” he clarifies.
When you’re sure nobody’s looking, you reassuringly squeeze his knee under the table. He tenses up under your touch.
.❅❅❅.
After dinner, you’re bundled up in a blanket on the plush living room couch as flames crackle in the stone fireplace.
Nobody has allowed you to lift a finger. Every chore, down to putting away your dinner plate, has been taken over by one of your friends encouraging you to rest.
Zach’s on the other end of the sectional, tapping his fingers against the armrest. You remember that it’s something he does when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? And why does he have to be so far away? You’re pretending to be just friends, but simply sitting next to you wouldn’t be suspicious, would it?
You know you’re not yourself. Your thoughts are muddy and patchy, but you’re already feeling much better than you did at the hospital because another memory suddenly blooms in your mind.
“Hot cocoa,” you say. Five heads turn to look at you as you point at Zach. “I owe you hot cocoa for staying back to drive me.”
“Yeah,” Zach says, his dimpled grin making your heart skip. “Your memories are coming back.”
You nod with a bright smile. At this moment, as he gazes at you from across the room, he realizes just how much he worries about you, he thinks of the kiss you left on his skin, and he accepts that he was wrong.
He’s not falling for you – he’s already in deep, completely enamored with no hope of pulling himself out.
.❅❅❅.
After you brush your teeth, you pad downstairs to the kitchen before you head to sleep in the bedroom you’re sharing with the girls.
You’re walking back through the dimly lit house when you hear the floorboards creak under someone’s weight. Zach rounds the corner at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hi,” you say sweetly. He towers over you and your eyes drift down to the red and black flannel he’s wearing. “The famous grandpa pj’s.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, happy you remember yet another thing.
His chest twists, conflicted because he enjoys the familiar comfort of being alone with you, but is also anxious in case you still have the wrong idea about the nature of your relationship.
“Proud of me for hydrating?” you ask, holding up the cup of water you just got for yourself.
“Very proud.” He walks past you. “Sleep well.”
You’re confused. It’s unlike him. You remember enough to know he’s typically kind and talkative.
“Hey,” you say, turning to look at him. He meets your gaze, lips slightly parted, visibly tense. “What’s wrong? You don’t really blame yourself, do you? I’m fine.”
His lips curl into a frown. He’s not convinced.
“Please don’t worry,” you continue softly, stepping towards him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. You’re the best friend a concussed girl could have.”
Friend. Does that mean you no longer think he’s your boyfriend? Have you forgotten about the whole thing entirely?
Before he can ask to be sure, he realizes you were being playful with the word, because you quickly look over your shoulder, then unexpectedly pop up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.
“I made sure nobody saw,” you say in an amused whisper. “Good night.”
You rush upstairs, an electric current zipping through you even though you’ve kissed him a million times before.
Zach is standing still in the hallway, heart hammering, blood running hot. He’s lost count of how many times he daydreamed about kissing you. Now, he felt your lips against his for real, and his mind and body are a jumbled mess.
There’s a chance you like him back and now feel uninhibited to offer him the affection you’ve always wanted to give him. Or you’re just confused and you’ll be horrified to learn that he let you believe you’re dating when you were dazed and vulnerable.
If your memory isn’t solid by tomorrow, he’ll have to correct it himself. And he can only hope he won’t ruin your friendship in the process.
››› saturday
You’re walking towards the kitchen, the taste of toothpaste fresh on your tongue. You’re glad you woke up with a much clearer mind. You remember more of yesterday; it’s almost a complete picture in your head.
Zach and Malek are sitting at the breakfast table, cradling mugs of coffee. Zach’s eyes dart away from yours the moment he sees you. It makes your heart sink.
“Hi,” you say to them.
“Morning,” Malek replies.
“Feeling better?” Zach asks.
“Headache’s gone,” you answer. He nods, but doesn’t look at you again.
He’s been acting weird and you’re not sure if it’s just guilt over your fall. The memory of you lying in bed with him a few days ago is so clear. What happened between then and yesterday?
You must have had a fight that you’re forgetting about. You’re sure Zach would be selfless enough to pretend that you’re on good terms while you’re concussed, but he can’t hide that he’s on edge.
“Bad sleep?” you ask, looking down at his drink. “You only drink coffee when you’re desperate.”
His eyes finally find yours again, softening when they do. It’s the early morning and he’s wearing sweats and a hoodie and his dark honey hair is a tousled mess, yet he still looks so handsome and it feels unfair to not be able to kiss him.
“You remember that, too,” he says with relief. “Anything else come up?”
“Nothing that feels important,” you admit with a shrug. Disappointment flashes over his features and you chew on your lip in saddened confusion.
Zach hates seeing the hurt on your face. He needs to have this conversation now and get it over with.
“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asks.
“That sounds nice,” you answer.
“You’re insane,” Malek says. “It’s like the North Pole out there.”
“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh. “It makes you appreciate being inside even more.”
.❅❅❅.
You stand side-by-side on the snow-covered balcony leading out to the back of the cabin, bundled up in your coats, hats, and mittens.
“It’s so pretty out here,” you whisper, gazing out at the frozen lake hugged by patches of trees.
“It is,” Zach says. His breath comes out in a small puff of fog as he ruminates over how to tell you what he needs to tell you.
“All that ice,” you mumble, “and so many different ways to fall on it.”
He cracks a smile.
“Still too soon to joke about it,” he says.
“Even I don’t get a free pass?” you chuckle.
You reach for his hand, feeling his warmth through your mittens. Zach clears his throat and pulls out of your grasp.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he begins. His cheeks redden. “And please hear me out. I was doing what I thought was–”
The sound of the door sliding open interrupts him. You both look back to see Malek ambling out onto the balcony with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.
“Maybe you guys are onto something,” he says. “We didn’t come all the way out here not to appreciate the views, right?”
He stands between you two and despite the tension, you and Zach share a smile, knowingly both irritated yet amused at your friend’s clueless intrusion.
.❅❅❅.
When you head back inside, everyone else has woken up, loudly chattering in the kitchen. You’re pulled into a conversation with Esha and Maggie while Chase asks Zach to help him with starting the fire.
It’s hard to absorb the words your friends are saying after the way you and Zach left things a few minutes ago.
“Can someone turn on some music?” Maggie eventually asks. “I left my phone upstairs.”
“Sure,” you offer.
“No screens!” Esha shouts.
“It’ll just be for a second,” you laugh. You connect to the speaker. When you realize you have an unfamiliar playlist open, you curiously scroll through the songs.
Zach comes back into the kitchen, dusting off his hands.
You tap on the first track in the playlist. A slow, gentle song buzzes from the living room.
Then, it hits you like a wave.
This song played in his car on the way here. You dozed off listening to it. You woke up from a dream.
A dream.
Zach isn’t your boyfriend. He never was.
The puzzle pieces have finally snapped together, and the picture isn’t pretty.
You stare at him, the realization harsh and unsettling. The possibility of a fight you forgot about had run through your head, but the fact that you were never even together is startling.
Zach can see it immediately, the discomfort on your face. He thought he wanted you to figure it out on your own. Now that you have, he regrets not telling you the truth right away.
“Uh, my… phone is about to die,” you stammer, stopping the song. “Be right back.”
You leave the room, and while everyone else carries on conversation, Zach’s heart is in his stomach. He messed up. Possibly irreversibly.
He trails behind you, whispering your name as you rush up the stairs. You turn to face him once you reach your bedroom, nearly breathless.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, the embarrassment wringing out your insides.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can you sit down? You need to take it easy.”
“Zach,” you assert. He sighs in worry.
“I was about to tell you outside, but then we got interrupted.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me right away?” you say. “I… oh, my God. I kissed you last night.”
Zach rakes his hand through his hair as you step back and exhale in disbelief.
“The doctor said I shouldn’t stress you out,” he explains. “I didn’t want to confuse you or embarrass you–”
“Too late,” you interrupt with a note of sadness.
It’s a punch to Zach’s gut seeing you so upset because of something he did. He’d actually prefer a real punch right now. At least then, he’d know the pain will fade. The guilt filling his chest feels like it’ll be there forever.
“I – I was doing what I thought was best,” he says. “She said you were fragile and it freaked me out and I promise, the last thing I want to do is upset you or mess with your healing.”
You can see that he’s in distress, but so are you. You spilled your heart out to him, you touched and kissed him while under the impression that you shared a love that wasn’t there.
“Please don’t think I’m a creep or something – I just – I honestly didn’t expect that kiss,” he admits. “I would’ve stopped it if I did.”
You have to look away. Why would he have stopped it? Because you weren’t in your right mind? Or because he wouldn’t ever want you to kiss him?
You hope he has it in him to at least admit if he feels anything for you. This is the time to do it after you embarrassed yourself so immensely. You stare down at the floor, silently praying that he’ll reassure you.
Zach’s throat tightens. Seeing you like this makes his shame so overpowering that his eyes start to burn with tears.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He steps out of the room before you can see him cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him. He wants to give you space.
You’re left standing alone in the silence, your heart cracked right down the middle.
.❅❅❅.
Zach doesn’t let his gaze linger on you for the rest of the day. He’s terrified he’ll have to face his fear of losing you.
What’ll life look like without you? You met and then all of a sudden, you became a ray of light in his world, always able to make him smile, always on his mind. He can’t stomach making you uncomfortable. You looked so disgusted that he went along with a lie.
After dinner, you’re all sitting in the living room and helping Maggie set up a board game. That’s when Zach finally allows himself to look at you.
You’re sitting in front of the fireplace, quietly reading the instructions to yourself, lips moving with the words. Worrisome curiosity gnaws at him, eager to find out if your mind is clear again.
“Does reading still feel weird or is it okay now?” he asks you from across the room.
“Oh – yeah,” you say, caught off guard. You haven’t spoken since your fight this morning. “It’s okay now.”
“Where have you been, MacLaren?” Maggie laughs. “We established she’s back to normal like three hours ago.”
“Do we need to check your head?” Chase jokes.
Zach forces a laugh. He’s been too lost in his thoughts to absorb himself in the conversations happening around him all day. The possibility of making you uncomfortable simply by being in the same room as you is too heavy to ignore at this point.
“Maybe,” he says. “I should probably turn in.”
“What?” Malek shouts. “I was going to kick your ass at… what’s this game called again?”
“You can kick my ass later,” Zach mumbles, standing up. “Sorry, guys.”
“Lame,” Maggie sighs.
You keep your gaze on him as he leaves the room, but his eyes stay on the floor the entire time.
.❅❅❅.
You gently knock on the boys’ bedroom door, listening to your friends’ enthusiastic competition-fuelled conversations echoing from downstairs.
It’s been fifteen minutes since you started the board game and two since you purposely knocked yourself out of it. You excused yourself to take a shower, but your intention was always to come up and talk to Zach. Even though you’d left things so tense, you need to make sure of one thing.
“Yeah?” His voice on the other side of the door is muffled. You step into the dark room, the hallway light spilling in.
“It’s me,” you whisper into the dimness. “Sorry. You’re not sleeping, are you?”
“No. I can’t,” he admits. You hear a mattress creak. A light turns on with a click. Zach’s standing by a lamp, almost looking wounded.
You step inside, shutting the door behind you, nervous as you settle on the edge of one of the beds. He sits on another bed and faces you.
“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you say. “I just had to make sure you know that, okay?”
Zach lets out a shaky sigh. He purses his lips, nodding slowly, and when you see a shine pool over his eyes, you still.
“Thanks,” he breathes. “I hated the idea of you thinking I took advantage of you or something and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around me if you–”
“What? Zach, no. No way.”
When he quietly sniffles, you’re certain he’s holding back tears. You knew he was sensitive, but witnessing him cry over the possibility of making you uncomfortable stings. Especially since he surely felt awkward with you touching him and kissing him, and still played along for you.
He doesn’t deserve to feel like this. You shuffle over, sitting next to him on his bed.
“Listen, I was just really embarrassed,” you say, desperate to console him. “I still am, to be honest.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be. You were injured.”
“Yeah, but… how would you feel if you ran around kissing me just for me to tell you I never wanted you to?”
Zach’s jaw tenses. Is that what you think? That he doesn't want to kiss you? God, he’d spend all day kissing you if you let him.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” you continue, “and I get why you went along with it. I know you were just looking out for me. Sorry that I got so upset.”
“Please don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”
“We’ll never agree on this,” you say with a quiet laugh. “We’re good, okay? I’m gonna go take a shower and if you’re up for it, you should go downstairs. I’ll come down after and make you that cocoa I promised.”
Zach laughs, genuine and warm, and it makes your heart feel like it’s floating.
“Cool,” he says.
“Cool,” you echo. You stand up, almost out the door when he stops you.
“Hey, can you…”
“What?” you ask.
“Just… be careful in the shower. Don’t slip.”
“I’ll be fine. Jeez, you fall on your head one time,” you quip. He laughs. And his smile doesn’t fade for a while after you leave the room.
.❅❅❅.
You’ve just washed the soap off your skin and are about to turn the water off when you’re plunged into darkness. Standing in the tub, naked, completely blind.
For a moment, you’re afraid this is a symptom of your concussion. But then you realize the power must have gone out. You feel for the tile wall, pushing the shower curtain to the side, more nervous to fall than you’d normally be.
“Hey, you okay in there?” Zach asks through the door. He’s nearly breathless. As soon as the lights went out, he raced up the stairs in worry, using his phone flashlight as a guide.
“Yeah,” you call. “Did the power go out?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Do you need any help or anything? I can get Esha or Maggie.”
You smile to yourself in the dark, not surprised that he’s being so considerate of your comfort. You feel for the robe you left on the counter and wrap yourself in its warmth, then open the door.
Zach’s standing in the hallway, phone flashlight aimed at the floor, concern etched into his face.
“Do we know what happened?” you ask.
Seeing you fresh out the shower feels oddly vulnerable. This is an intimate state for him to witness you in, but you’re not nervous at all, and it’s reassuring to have the hard proof that you’re not uncomfortable around him.
“I think it’s the wind,” he says. “It must have knocked a power line down.”
“Uh oh,” you reply in same way you did when Chase texted about the furnace breaking. He chuckles. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you really do remember everything.
“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there,” you say. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“Of course.”
The lights are still out when you come downstairs in your pajamas. Your friends are huddled around the fire, amber lights and gray shadows casting over their faces and on the walls. The crescent moon gleams in the cloudy sky past the massive windows.
“Were you at least at the end of your shower?” Esha asks with a defeated laugh.
“Yeah,” you say. “I was just about to get out when the room went dark. I was scared my concussion came back.”
“That’d be great timing,” Esha jokes.
“Right? While I’m naked in a tub,” you laugh, settling on the floor next to her. Zach is glad nobody’s looking at him right now, because his cheeks are burning at the mention of you being naked. “Did anyone message the owner?”
“Yeah,” Maggie says. “He’s not answering, but I don’t know what he could even do. I checked online and the whole grid is out. I think we’ll just have to wait it out.”
“Chase cursed us,” Esha says.
“How is this my fault?�� he asks.
“You tempted fate with your stupid joke yesterday,” she replies. “The furnace broke. Now everything is broken. Are you happy?”
“Honestly, thrilled,” he replies. “Pretty cool to have the power to control the weather.”
You continue to chat with your friends, feeling the temperature in the cabin slowly fall. Before you know it, it’s been half an hour and the power still isn’t back on. You’re shaking from the cold.
Zach notices the way you’re curled up, arms wrapped around your legs, surely colder than everyone else since you just showered.
“We should keep the fire going,” he says. “I don’t think the power will come back on any time soon.”
“What happened to the annoying optimism we’ve grown to know and love?” Maggie asks.
“I told you guys, I traumatized him when I fell yesterday,” you say. “I broke my brain and his.”
“No offense, but I probably would’ve laughed my ass off if I saw you fall like that,” Chase jokes.
“That’s why I’m glad I was with Zach,” you retort. He smirks to himself as he builds the fire, hoping it’ll radiate more heat for you soon. “I bet when my memory was messed up, you would’ve convinced me that I owed you money or something.”
“Shit,” Chase says. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Shameless,” Esha mutters. “Guys, I think we’re going to have to sleep here in front of the fire. I bet the bedrooms are freezing.”
“Aw, it’ll be like a real sleepover,” Maggie says excitedly. “Let’s do it.”
You’re all in a fit of laughter as you bring mattresses and pillows and blankets down the stairs, already sure that this is going to be a cherished memory. What happened yesterday has given you a new perspective on life, a realization that something as simple as your memory should be appreciated.
And it’s also made your crush on Zach even deeper. He’s done nothing but look out for you, down to pretending to be your boyfriend to ease you into your healing. Now that the embarrassment has faded, you feel guilty that you were ever upset at him.
The six of you lie in front of the crackling fire, wrapped up in duvets as the wind howls outside. You’re closest to Zach, your back inches away from his chest. As you gaze at the flames, you think about the way his lips felt on yours last night.
No wonder you felt so stunned after kissing him. Your mind didn’t know it was your first kiss, but your body did. The thought that it was also your last kiss makes your stomach sink. He’s had every opportunity to tell you if he likes you. He hasn’t. You’re just a friend to him and nothing more.
“Who wants to bet on when the power’s going to be back on?” Malek asks. You hear the click of him unlocking his phone. “It’s 11:30 now. I don’t…”
He suddenly stops talking.
“Did he die? I’m too tired to turn around and check,” Esha says.
“My ex texted me,” Malek says.
“Don’t fall into the trap, man,” Chase says. “What’s done is done.”
“What’s it say?” Zach asks. He stares at you as you lie in front of him, backlit by the fire.
“She’s apologizing,” Malek says. “She wants to get back together.”
“No,” Maggie says sternly. “She dumped you over text, dude.”
You listen to your friends chat, your eyelids growing heavy. Admittedly, you’re worried you’ll dream of Zach again. Having his heart in a delusion just to wake up and realize it’s not really yours hurts too much.
You shuffle your feet to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Zach.
“Sorry,” you whisper over your shoulder. “Was that your kicking foot?”
“Yeah,” Zach replies. “You just blew my entire season.”
You giggle quietly, tightening your blanket around you. You wish you could hold on to a shred of hope that eventually, your feelings for him will fade. The sinking feeling in your gut tells you that’ll never happen.
.❅❅❅.
A harsh droning pulls you out of your sleep. Your eyes squeeze shut, then flicker open when you realize someone is snoring. Loudly.
“Who is that?” Esha whispers into the pitch dark. The fire must have died down.
“Malek,” Chase mutters. “He sounds like a fucking dragon.”
“Malek,” Esha whines. His snoring suddenly stops and you figure she must have kicked him awake.
You chuckle to yourself, gently shuffling in place. That’s when you realize you’re up against a warm, firm surface, your nose brushing against the comforting fragrance you love so much.
You’re cuddled up to Zach. You pull back an inch, your entire body tense.
“How’d I get here?” you try to joke in a whisper. “Sorry.”
“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily. He pulls you in by your hip, squeezing gently in his daze. Your heart thrums and you obey, giving into what you want most.
››› sunday
You can feel the brightness of the sun behind your eyelids. The air isn’t cold. The furnace is buzzing. The power is back on.
You gain your bearings and slowly sit up. Everyone else is still asleep. You smile in admiration as you look at your sleeping friends. You love them all so much. You turn to see Zach, his lips in a cute pout, and you accept the fact that you love him, too, in a deeper way.
Friends. You’re friends. You’ll keep telling yourself that until your heart believes it.
You quietly make your way to the kitchen, determined to cook a big breakfast for everyone. Five minutes pass before Maggie walks in with a tired smile, commenting that something smells good.
“Sit down,” you invite her. “Coffee? Tea? I’m making a thank-you breakfast.”
“What for?” she asks.
“You all took such good care of me,” you say.
“Yeah, because Zach basically threatened us to when you first got here,” she laughs. “I’ve never seen him so intense. Last night, when the power went out? He booked it upstairs to find you. He’s been so worried about you.”
“Yeah, I think he still feels responsible for me falling,” you say.
She sits up to look over the wall into the hallway to check that the coast is clear, then waves you closer. You turn off the range and sit next to her.
“I think it’s more than that,” she says.
“No,” you say with a small laugh. “No way.”
.❅❅❅.
Zach shuffles awake, exhaling deeply. He drags his hand over the blanket next to him, looking for you before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.
It felt so nice when you turned towards him in a half-asleep daze, nuzzling your head into his chest. It took him a while to fall asleep simply because of how hard his heart was drumming.
He steps over his sleeping friends. Then, he hears a hushed conversation getting louder as he heads down the hallway.
“...think so?” Maggie says.
“No,” you respond. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you and Esha until after we got back, but… I was so out of it at the hospital that I thought he was my boyfriend and… he actually went along with it.”
“What?” she says.
You’re talking about him. He’s about to clear his throat to announce himself and pretend like he hasn’t heard anything, but then he hears your next words.
“I know he didn’t want me acting like that with him, but he tolerated it just so I wouldn’t get freaked out when I realized my memory was messed up,” you confess. “He was so awkward about it after. Trust me. He does not like me back.”
Zach slowly steps back towards the living room and goes up the stairs, trying to absorb what he just heard, trying to make sense of the fact that you not only truly think that he doesn’t want your affection, but also that you’re genuinely disappointed about it.
Back. You don’t think he likes you back.
This might just be the happiest he’s ever felt.
.❅❅❅.
You love how pleased your friends look at the breakfast spread you’ve made for them as they trickle into the kitchen.
“It’s a good thing it was so cold overnight,” you announce. “Nothing in the fridge went bad.”
Zach is the last one to come in and your heart, the traitor, skitters when you meet his striking blue eyes. How long until you can look into those eyes and not think about how it feels to be held by him, how it feels to kiss him?
“Sleep well?” you ask to make casual conversation. He settles in the last empty chair at the table.
“Yeah. My old man pajamas are really toasty,” he says.
You nod, skin buzzing. Does he remember cuddling you in the middle of the night? By the way his eyes linger on you, you think he just might, and in this simple, small moment, you feel a pinch of hope that he feels the same way you do.
You glance up at the clock hanging above the table to see it’s just past nine, leaving less than two hours before check-out. You try to enjoy the last little bit you have with your friends before you split up to clean and leave the cabin the way you found it.
.❅❅❅.
The cabin is spotless, the cars are packed up, and you’re hugging your friends goodbye as light snowflakes gently fall from the white sky.
You’ve been giddy with anticipation at the thought of having an hour and a half drive back to campus with Zach, even though he left such a confusing knot in your chest. Despite everything, he’s still a friend you love to spend time with.
“Have a nice drive!” Chase says as he heads towards Esha’s car, raising his brows at Zach.
After breakfast, Chase had asked him to join you two on the ride home to have more space than he would have sharing a backseat with Malek, but Zach apologized and told him he’d rather not.
When Chase insisted he tell him why, Zach didn’t see any reason to keep it in any longer. He admitted to liking you and said he’d finally tell you on the way home.
“Bold,” Chase had said. “And if she doesn’t like you, too? That’ll be like, the most awkward car ride ever.”
“I’ll take the risk,” Zach replied with a smile.
.❅❅❅.
“Wow,” you say as you drive out onto the main road. “I never made you that hot cocoa, did I?”
“You didn’t,” he says, pretending to be deeply displeased.
“Will you ever forgive me?” you play along.
“I’ll need to do some reflecting first,” Zach replies. You laugh, relieved that you two are joking like old times before this past weekend through you for a loop.
“Fair,” you say. You plug your phone into his speaker system. “Let’s see if I can unlock any other memories. And don’t tell me it’s still too soon to joke about it.”
Zach chuckles, cocking his head.
“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “I woke up in a good mood.”
“You’re basically always in a good mood,” you respond.
Zach can understand why you’d think that. It’s because he’s never been in a bad mood around you. Life is bright and easy and rich when you’re around. And it’s been even richer since he overheard what you said this morning.
“We passed a waterfall while you slept on the way up here,” Zach says. “Would you want to make a stop to check out the view?”
“Yeah,” you agree, pushing away the reminder of what you’d dreamt about during that nap. “Sounds cool.”
.❅❅❅.
Crystal blue water rushes down in an endless torrent, crashing down to the surface with a dull roar. You’re in awe of how ethereal the waterfall is, white mist bubbling over the stream bordered by snowy land. The snow is still falling gently, the atmosphere cool but not cold, as if the earth is apologizing for the windstorm last night.
You and Zach stand at a height behind a railing, his car parked a few feet away on the side of the road. He purposely slowed down so your friends would drive far enough ahead to not notice you’d made a stop.
Now that he’s here, he’s painfully nervous. Worst case scenario, you’re not interested in dating him, and it’ll lead to, like Chase said, the most awkward car ride ever. He’s sure the remaining hour journey back to campus would feel like ten hours if this goes wrong.
But he’s always been optimistic and last night as he fell asleep with you in his arms, he thought back to every moment in your friendship when he had a spark of hope that he had a place in your heart like you do in his.
Over the months he’s known you, he got into the habit of trying to dull the spark, reminding himself of how much he had to lose if you didn’t return his feelings.
Deep down, he always knew he’d eventually give in; he has so much love to give you and the thought of keeping it contained when you might want it was getting harder to bear.
You could break his heart if you don’t want him, but it’d break his heart even more if you do and he doesn’t do anything about it.
“Wow,” you say in a whisper, taking a photo of the waterfall with your phone. “I shouldn’t post this, should I? Our friends might be mad that we didn't include them.”
“I think they’ll understand,” Zach replies. “I told Chase… uh…”
You lower your phone, looking up at him, unable to stifle your smirk because of how cute he looks from the way the breeze has messed up his hair. The road behind you is clear and quiet, the mid-morning sun offering mild warmth.
“You told Chase…?” you say.
Zach licks his lips, his mouth gently opening before he finds the words. He shifts to face you, eyes searching your pretty features, heart in his throat.
“I told him I wanted to be alone with you,” he says. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop this morning, I swear… but I… I do like you. Back.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. You look down at the snowy concrete, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“I heard you right… right?” Zach mumbles.
“Back,” you repeat softly, finding the bravery to look back up at him. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”
A sweet, honeyed smile grows on his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the exact way you’d dreamt he would. How you always wanted him to, but convinced yourself he wouldn’t.
“I didn’t tolerate you acting like we were dating,” he says. “I liked it and I felt bad for liking it because it wasn’t real.”
You mirror his smile, your heart full of love and joy and the comfort that he’s been giving you since the day you met him.
“I was just doing what I always wanted to do,” you confess. His eyes glint with endearment as he brings a hand up to gently cup your face.
“I really enjoyed being your pretend boyfriend,” Zach says, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. “Can I be your real one now, though?”
You sigh softly, nodding as he stares at you in nothing short of infatuation. He leans closer by a half-inch, silently testing if you’re okay with it.
You close the distance and your lips meet with a sweet, gentle tenderness like they’ve done this before. You pull back, remembering that they have.
“Can we count that as our first kiss?” you say.
“Absolutely,” he chuckles.
››› one week later
You’re stepping out of the kitchen in Zach’s apartment, tightly gripping the tray of six mugs filled with hot cocoa.
“Whoa,” Zach says, quickly standing up from his spot on the floor when you enter the living room. “Careful.”
“Her concussion is gone, man,” Chase says. “You have the test results to prove it. She can handle carrying a tray.”
“He’s helping her because he’s a gentleman,” Esha states. “Do you know what that word means or are you committed to being a caveman forever?”
“Caveman,” he repeats with a grin.
“Don’t give him any,” Esha mutters. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
You laugh as you set the tray down on the coffee table with Zach’s help. You settle in your spot on the couch as Zach sits on the floor in front of you again, tucked in between your legs, the insides of your knees pressed against his shoulders.
“I have to say, I called it,” Maggie says as she gazes between you and Zach with a big smile on her face. “Tell everyone how I called it.”
“You called it,” you say, putting your hands on your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, gently squeezing.
Her eyes dart to Esha and you share a knowing grin. You’d had private conversations about how if you and Zach were always a little obvious, Esha and Chase are the definition of the word.
“Ow,” Malek snips, holding the steaming mug away from his face. “I burned myself.”
“It’s hot cocoa, Malek,” Chase says. “It’s literally in the name.”
“Really good, though,” Malek says, giving you a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” you laugh.
The tray is eventually littered with empty mugs and you stand to clear away the mess, your heart glowing with the feeling it always has when you’re surrounded by your friends.
You’re scrubbing a soapy sponge over a mug when you hear Zach’s voice behind you.
“You don’t have to wash anything.”
You look over your shoulder, smiling.
“It’s okay,” you say. He approaches you, hugging you from behind as you stand at the sink, surrounding you in his warmth as your friends talk a room away.
He always enjoyed moments of privacy with you, but since that day by the waterfall, every second with you is more than perfect.
“So?” you say. “Did you get your wish? Was the cocoa life-changing?”
“Ask me again what you asked on the way up to the cabin,” he murmurs. “What I want most in the world.”
“What do you want most–”
“You,” he interrupts. You laugh breathily as he kisses the side of your neck. “I just couldn’t answer honestly the first time you asked. But it was always you.”
You turn the faucet off and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face as he leaves kisses on your neck and holds you tighter.
It was always him, too.
(the end)
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rafesapologist · 1 year ago
Text
the set up — rafe cameron; part twelve
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.
warnings: angst, swearing, SMUT
author's note: i hope you guys are enjoying the longer chapters! it feels really nice to be back and have everyone already showing just as much support for this series as you guys did prior to my hiatus. i was struggling with a huge case of writer's block (that i feared i was not going to overcome lol), so i'm really excited to be back writing on here. i do plan to keep updating this series more frequently as well, if you haven't already noticed, sort of to pay my dues for being away for so long. love you mwah
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"I do love you."
Your words spilled out abruptly, escaping before you could rein them in. Heat surged through your body, a swift rush of warmth brought on by the sudden and unintended admission. The truth, though genuine, caught you off guard, leaving you reeling in the aftermath of your own confession.
As the reality of what you'd uttered sank in, a wave of regret washed over you, the weight of the moment pressing down with force. Shock etched across your features, a mask of surprise mirrored in your eyes as you grappled with the gravity of your admission.
The air hung heavy with anticipation as silence enveloped the room, your words lingering unspoken, a testament to the vulnerability of the moment. You stared up at Rafe, a mix of emotions swirling within you, uncertain and apprehensive about what his response might entail. In that suspended moment, you grappled with a swirl of emotions, still processing the weight of your confession and unsure of what lay ahead.
"You... what?" Rafe's voice carried a tone of disbelief, his features contorted in confusion, eyebrows knit tightly together. His expression mirrored the astonishment that had engulfed you moments before, leaving both of you seemingly dumbfounded by the unexpected admission that hung in the air.
The aura of disbelief seemed to permeate the room, an unspoken tension weaving between you, each moment stretching as you both grappled with the weight of the statement that had just been uttered, hanging in the air, unaddressed.
"I know I didn't say it before, but Rafe, I was just trying to protect you," you confessed, urgency lacing your words. "I didn't not say it because I didn't feel it or mean it. I just... I don't want you caught up with someone like me." Your voice carried a mix of sincerity and vulnerability, each word spoken with a weight that mirrored the depth of your emotions. The confession hung between you, a delicate yet heartfelt attempt to explain the unspoken, a raw honesty seeping through your words.
"I've fallen in love with you each day I'm with you, Rafe," your voice carried a poignant honesty, baring the depth of your emotions. "I couldn't stop myself from loving you even if I tried."
Rafe stood there, a myriad of emotions flickering across his features—surprise, contemplation, and a hint of something deeper, his gaze fixed on you. His mouth slightly agape, he seemed caught in a moment of contemplation, as though searching for a trace of truth in your eyes.
His searching gaze lingered, probing as if trying to unravel the sincerity behind your words. There was a palpable tension in the air, a pregnant pause, as Rafe grappled with the weight of your confession, silently contemplating his next words or actions.
"How could you possibly hurt me, Y/n?" Rafe's voice carried a mix of hurt and vulnerability, his eyes revealing the turmoil within. "Don't you think it hurts more, feeling like the person you love doesn't love you back?" His words echoed with a deep sense of emotional pain, revealing the ache that had been concealed beneath the surface. There was a rawness in his tone, a poignant vulnerability that laid bare the wounds of unreciprocated emotions.
"It's more complicated than you know, Rafe," you replied, a tinge of sadness seeping into your voice. The weight of unspoken truths and complexities lingered heavily in the air, underscoring the intricate layers of emotions that intertwined between you.
"Stop saying that, Y/n! Whatever it is, we could've worked through it! We could've— we could've made it work regardless of whatever the fuck it is, or was," Rafe's voice trembled with a mix of frustration and desperation. His plea carried an earnest longing, a fervent desire to transcend whatever barriers stood between you, a wish to salvage what seemed irreparably fractured.
Your expression sank into sorrow, mirroring the weight of the moment. "Could've?" you echoed softly, the word lingering in the air, heavy with a sense of missed opportunities and regret. The question hung there, laden with a tinge of realization, an acknowledgment of a potential future that now seemed distant and unattainable.
Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "All last night and today, I just kept replaying in my head what you said to me. When I told you I loved you, and you basically pushed me away? I mean, is it really that easy for you to just throw me away, Y/n?" Rafe paused, a mix of hurt and confusion etched on his face.
Before he could continue, you interjected with a resolute tone. "No, it's not like that, Rafe." Your voice carried an earnestness, a plea to convey the complexity of the situation. Yet, words seemed to evade you as the weight of the moment settled heavily upon your shoulders.
"Then why? Why was it seemingly so easy for you to shut me out like that?
"It wasn't easy," you responded softly, your voice tinged with a mix of regret and sorrow. "There's just... so much more to it than I can explain right now." The weight of unspoken complexities lingered in your tone, a hint of remorse underscoring your words.
Rafe shook his head in frustration, his movements agitated as he paced back and forth across the room. "You can't even be honest with me?" His voice cracked with exasperation, each step he took emphasizing the intensity of his emotions.
"I am trying to be honest, Rafe," you replied, your voice strained with the weight of the conversation. "But some things... they're just not easy to explain, especially when it's this complicated." You gestured vaguely, trying to articulate the tangled mess of emotions and circumstances that seemed impossible to unravel.
"Trying? You're trying to be honest? Do you hear yourself right now?" Rafe's words came out as a snap, causing you to startle, his tone sharp and cutting. The sting of his words pricked at your emotions, tears welling up in your eyes, a manifestation of the overwhelming frustration and hurt that filled the room.
"I-I'm sorry, Rafe. I didn't mean to hurt you; I was just trying to do what I thought was right," your voice faltered, cracking with emotion. The apology carried a weight of remorse, a desperate attempt to convey your intentions despite the unintended pain caused.
Rafe halted his pacing, his gaze softening as he noticed the tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. "Y/n... don't cry, please," he pleaded, a note of concern lacing his words. His frustration ebbed, replaced by a sense of empathy, as he reached a hand out, almost instinctively, aching to wipe away the tears that marred your face.
"I care about you, Rafe, regardless of if you think I don't," you confessed, your voice tinged with earnestness. "Truly, the only reason I didn't say it back was because I was scared. Because once we both admit that, this becomes serious, and that just opens more doors and ways for one of us to get hurt. I know that doesn't scare you, but it does me. So, I'm sorry."
"Y/n, you think I'm not scared too?" Rafe chuckled softly, a hint of vulnerability in his laughter. "I worry every single day that you're gonna get up and leave, that you'll change your mind and go. The closer I get to you, the more my feelings grow for you. It's terrifying, Y/n. My heart is right in your hands." He looked down, reaching for your hands, rubbing them gently with the pads of his thumbs, a silent plea for understanding and reassurance.
"You never show it," you observed, looking up at him with a hint of confusion. Rafe chuckled quietly, shaking his head in response. "Doesn't make it any less true," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a blend of sincerity and a touch of vulnerability.
"Rafe?"
"Yes?" Rafe turned to face you fully, his eyes fixed on yours with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. The room felt charged with emotion as he waited for your next words, a blend of hope and apprehension evident in his expression.
"I really do love you," you spoke quietly, the weight of your words hanging in the air. There was a fragility in your voice, a fear that your declaration might go unheard or misunderstood in the tense atmosphere of the moment.
Rafe's previously unreadable expression softened into a small, tender smile. His eyes glimmered with a quiet warmth, reflecting the sincerity of his feelings. "I love you too, Y/n," he confessed softly, the words carrying an unmistakable honesty and depth of emotion.
As the admission of love hung in the air, an unspoken understanding passed between you and Rafe. The room seemed to soften, the atmosphere charged with an indescribable warmth. Rafe gently cupped your face with his hands, his touch both tender and reassuring.
His lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a soft and sweet connection that spoke volumes in the silence. It wasn't just a meeting of lips; it was an exchange of emotions, a promise sealed with the gentle press of each kiss. Time seemed to slow as you shared this intimate moment, lost in the sensation of being close, of feeling the heartbeat that echoed the depth of your emotions.
The kiss held a tenderness that transcended words, conveying a shared vulnerability and a newfound closeness. When you finally pulled away, the air between you felt charged with a newfound understanding, a connection that went beyond spoken confessions. The small smile that lingered on both your faces spoke of a silent agreement, a promise to navigate the complexities ahead together.
Without a word, Rafe's lips crash against yours in a desperate, intoxicating kiss. Your mouths meld together, tongues entwined in a passionate dance. The taste of him fills your senses, fueling your desire for more.
As the intensity of the kiss deepens, Rafe's hands begin to explore, gliding over the curves of your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Piece by piece, fabric falls away, revealing your vulnerability and beauty. Every touch, every stroke, heightens the ache of longing.
With a gentle yet commanding touch, Rafe guides you towards the bed, a haven of pleasure awaiting your arrival. You surrender to the soft sheets, your bodies entangled in a symphony of desire. The room fills with the sound of your shared moans and whispers.
His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your collarbone. Your breath hitches as he moves lower, his hands caressing your breasts, his tongue flicking against your hardened nipples. Pleasure courses through you, urging you to arch your back and moan his name.
Rafe's hands continue to explore, his fingers teasingly tracing the sensitive spots of your body. A gasp escapes your lips as he dips lower, his mouth finding its way to your most intimate area. His tongue dances expertly, flicking and swirling, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
The intensity builds, and you find yourself craving more. You guide Rafe's body on top of yours, feeling the weight of his desire pressing against you. As he enters you, a moan escapes your lips, merging with his own sounds of pleasure.
Your bodies move in synchrony, a dance of passion and ecstasy. Each thrust brings you closer to the edge, your senses heightened by the intoxicating pleasure. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, mingling with the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh.
Rafe's thrusts become more urgent, each one pushing you closer to the edge. He watches you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of raw passion and adoration. With each movement, you can feel the heat building within you, a coil of desire ready to explode.
Your fingers find their way to Rafe's back, digging into his flesh as you draw him closer, craving a deeper connection. The rhythm of your bodies becomes frenzied, the friction between you intensifying the sensations that ripple through your core.
Every nerve ending in your body feels alive, on the brink of complete surrender. The pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, a delicious ache that demands release. Your moans blend together, a symphony of ecstasy that fills the room.
As Rafe's hand finds its way between your bodies, his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. His fingers expertly explore the most sensitive part of your being, pushing you closer to the edge with each skilled stroke.
With your bodies intertwined, the sensation builds to an exquisite crescendo. It's as if time slows down, each moment stretching with anticipation. You can feel the wave of climax crashing over you, ready to engulf you in its blissful embrace.
As you reach the precipice, your bodies tense with anticipation. Your breath catches in your throat as you lock eyes with Rafe, a silent understanding passing between you. And then, with one final thrust, the dam breaks.
A surge of pleasure engulfs you, radiating from the depths of your being. The world around you fades away as you ride the wave of ecstasy, your bodies trembling in unison. You cry out in pure bliss, your voice mingling with Rafe's as you both reach the pinnacle of pleasure.
In that moment of release, time stands still. Your bodies continue to quiver with aftershocks, basking in the euphoria that washes over you. You lie intertwined, breathless and spent, knowing that you have shared an intimate connection unlike any other.
As the intense waves of pleasure subside, you and Rafe lie intertwined, your bodies still tingling with the aftermath of your passionate encounter. The room is filled with a sense of intimacy and contentment, your connection deepened by the shared experience. Rafe's arm wraps protectively around you, pulling you closer to his warm and comforting embrace. His touch is gentle, his fingertips tracing soothing patterns along your skin. You feel a sense of peace wash over you as you rest against his chest, your heartbeats gradually returning to normal.
Your breathing gradually steadies, matching the rhythm of each other's as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax. A comfortable silence envelops you both, punctuated only by soft whispers and the occasional tender kiss.
As you look into Rafe's eyes, you see a mixture of love and adoration reflected back at you. It's a silent affirmation of the connection you share, a bond that goes beyond the physical realm. In this moment, there is no doubt that your love for each other is real and profound. Words become unnecessary as you communicate through simple touches and gentle caresses. Your fingers trace the contours of his face, committing every detail to memory. It's an unspoken promise to cherish this moment, this connection, forever.
"You're so perfect," Rafe whispered softly, his warm breath caressing your skin as his gentle fingers traced delicate patterns through your silken strands of hair. The tenderness in his touch sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his presence.
In the tranquility of Rafe's words, you responded with a tender hum, feeling the weariness gradually seep into your bones. The comforting warmth of his bare arms drew you closer, and in the safety of his embrace, you surrendered to the embrace of sleep, your breathing steadying as consciousness gently slipped away.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
You stirred from slumber hours later, the faint glow of the room revealing Rafe's silhouette. He sat beside you, immersed in the soft illumination of the TV, his attention captured by the flickering screen. As you awakened, he glanced over, a gentle smile gracing his lips at the sight of your awakening.
As your eyelids fluttered open, the room's soft ambiance greeted you. With a gentle stretch, you shifted, your voice carrying a hint of sleepiness as you asked, "Mm, what time is it?" Rubbing away the remnants of slumber from your eyes, you sought to orient yourself in the space around you.
"Midnight," chuckled Rafe, the soft glow of the room emphasizing the amusement in his voice. Your eyes widened as the realization hit that you had dozed through most of the day. "You were pretty much knocked out after we did it," he teased, prompting you to playfully nudge him away with a feignedly annoyed expression dancing across your face.
"Haha, very funny," you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully. "Has anyone come back yet?" Curiosity lingered in your inquiry, contemplating if the two of you were the only occupants in the house.
"Uh, no, no they haven't yet," Rafe responded, a casual shrug accompanying his words. "Dad said things got delayed, and he has some shit he has to do before he comes home, I guess." His attention remained fixed on the TV screen, his relaxed demeanor indicating a sense of ease and obliviousness in the moment.
"Got it," you murmured, settling back onto the bed. Thoughts raced through your mind, pondering if Ward had discovered anything about the gold and its disappearance. An undercurrent of concern mingled with curiosity, creating a sense of unease that lingered beneath the surface.
"Something wrong?" Rafe's voice was gentle as he turned his head towards you, concern etched in his expression.
You shook your head, a faint smile touching your lips. "No, no! I just... figured they'd been gone a while," you reassured, attempting to downplay the anxious thoughts that had surfaced.
"They usually are," Rafe shrugged casually, his tone holding a hint of familiarity with the situation. "Dad gets his mind set on doing something and doesn't stop 'til it's done, especially when it comes to the gold." His words held a mixture of nonchalance and understanding, reflecting a familiarity with his father's determined nature when it came to matters concerning the gold.
"Right..." You echoed softly, acknowledging Rafe's insight with a hint of uncertainty lingering in your response.
Suddenly, Rafe hit pause on the TV, shifting to sit on his side, facing you directly. "I want to talk to you about something," he started, prompting an immediate increase in your heart rate. You sat up slightly, anticipation coursing through you. "Okay, go on," you encouraged, your voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.
"Well, we haven't talked about it much, and it's coming up, so I thought it would be important to mention it now," Rafe began, his tone measured. "Midsummers."
"Oh." Your body relaxed, a wave of relief washing over you as your worst fears weren't materializing in that moment. "What about it?"
Rafe's expression softened into a gentle smile. "Well, I know dresses can be pretty... pricey, especially for an event like that. So, I'm gonna give you the money to buy whatever you need for it. I want my girl to feel and look like the princess she is," he beamed.
You sat there, stunned by his unexpected gesture, feeling a mixture of disbelief and gratitude coursing through you. "Rafe, this is too much, you don't have to do that," you insisted softly, your eyes meeting his in genuine surprise.
"I want to," he repeated, his voice steady and resolute. There was a sincerity in his eyes that struck you, a genuine desire to make this occasion special for you. The warmth in his gaze was undeniable, and his unwavering determination to see this through made your heart flutter with a mix of emotions.
You hesitated for a moment, torn between the overwhelming gratitude for Rafe's gesture and your own sense of independence. His unwavering determination was evident, and you knew him well enough to recognize that once he set his mind on something, it was nearly impossible to dissuade him.
"Rafe..." You sighed, looking at him with a mixture of emotions, trying to find the right words to express both appreciation and reservation. "I really appreciate it, but it's just... I don't want to impose," you trailed off, fiddling with your fingers, uncertain of how to gracefully accept his generosity.
Rafe's expression softened as he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "Y/n, it's not an imposition. It's something I want to do for you." His eyes held a sincerity that resonated deeply, his gaze unwavering.
You met his gaze, seeing the earnestness in his eyes, and with a small smile, you relented. "Okay, Rafe. Thank you," you finally acquiesced, knowing that he wouldn't take no for an answer, a mix of appreciation and a hint of amusement playing on your lips as you gave in to his stubborn yet endearing nature.
"Thank you," you whispered again, touched by his genuine effort to make you feel special. Rafe's smile widened at your acceptance, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, a soft and reassuring gesture that warmed your heart. "That's my girl," he murmured, his voice filled with affection and pride, his hand tenderly resting on yours.
As you sat there, basking in Rafe's warmth and his kind gesture, your phone vibrated on the night stand. Curiosity piqued, you furtively glanced at the screen, seeing a message from Kiara. The text's urgency was unmistakable, your friends possibly caught in some trouble.
Your expression shifted involuntarily, a blend of concern and worry crossing your features. However, even in your attempt to hide it, Rafe, perceptive as always, noticed the change in your demeanor. His brows furrowed inquisitively. "Is everything okay?"
You swiftly pocketed your phone, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, it's just... something Kiara mentioned," you replied vaguely, trying to mask the unease in your voice.
Rafe's concern mirrored in his eyes as he reached out, gently placing his hand on your arm. "What happened? Is it serious?"
You debated whether to tell him or not, but the concern in his eyes made you reconsider. "I'm not sure yet," you said, attempting to keep the situation vague as you grappled with the balance of keeping him informed and not alarming him unnecessarily.
The shrill ring of your phone broke the tense air. With a glance at the caller ID flashing Kiara's name, you swiftly picked up. "Kiara? What is it?" Your voice held a tinge of urgency and concern.
Rafe watched you closely, sensing the gravity of the situation from your anxious tone. He remained silent, giving you space to handle the call, but his eyes spoke volumes, questioning and concerned about the sudden change in atmosphere.
"JJ's missing."
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rafey-baby · 17 days ago
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forbidden fruit
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Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...
snow white!reader x hunter!rafe
18+ mdni!
c/w: mentions of violence (he holds a knife to her throat & threatens to kill her), her being a naive sheltered princess, some angst & some fluff & him being slightly suggestive? also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white
wc: 3k
ahh the first part is here xx
moodboard
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Do you have a favorite flower?”  
The quietness that follows makes her wonder if the brooding man alongside her had heard her question at all.   
She’s not entirely certain why the queen had been so adamant that this grumpy huntsman was to accompany her on this peculiar evening walk, when she’s never even uttered a word to him before— doesn’t even know his name.   
When she’d asked why they had to go so suddenly and after the sunset had already colored the skyline with its cherry tinge, he’d merely muttered something along the lines of ‘following Her Majesty’s orders’.   
She’s well aware of her stepmother’s disdain for her, never quite understanding why her father had married such a cold woman to begin with. However, it has never been in her wishes to upset her any further than she apparently does by simply existing, which is why she’d quietly agreed without much resistance— even if the request had seemed rather strange to her.       
“Uh…I dunno, they all sort of look the same to me, Your Highness,” the sudden rumble interrupts her thoughts.   
“Oh,” she’s slightly taken aback by the gravel in his tone, offering him her own answer nonetheless. “I love daisies.”
“Right,” he mumbles out; mind apparently lost somewhere else entirely as he keeps leading her deeper and deeper into the grim, bleak woods. With every step she takes, the leafy trees begin to turn into something impending, sinister— their slender branches beginning to resemble bony fingers, merely waiting for the right moment to latch onto her and claw at her arms.  
Therefore, she’d much rather hear his voice instead of this daunting lull in their conversation (if she could even call it that). Unfortunately, what she’s gathered from their brief interactions so far, is that the preferred topic of discussion for a man— a hunter like him, is silence. 
And that’s something the murky forest around them is already far too generously presenting her with; this late into the day not even the bluebirds chirp their delightful melodies to make the eerily serene atmosphere of this prolonged journey of theirs a little less dreadful.  
“What’s, um, what’s your name?” she attempts to have him speak some more.   
“Rafe,” he merely offers her a fleeting glance; as if it’s the most tedious thing in the world to even utter out his own name to her.  
Rafe. 
Upon further observation of the rugged lines of his face, she decides it suits him. What doesn’t suit him, however, is the ever-present scowl staining his (rather handsome) features. It’s almost as if something is tormenting him, acidic, putrid on his tongue.  
“Is something wrong?” she questions next, him being vague on purpose not exactly soothing her concerns regarding this entirely too ominous trip.  
They’ve been strolling along some path he apparently has in his mind for quite some time now, at this point nearly reaching the very core of the vast forest that surrounds the entirety of the kingdom.  
“Everything’s fine,” his tone is gruff— a heavy palm on the small of her back nudging her forward when she momentarily halts her movements.   
“Do we have to go so far? M’getting cold,” she complains because even if the palace hasn’t felt like home ever since her dear father’s passing, she wants nothing more now than to return to the thermal fireplace and silky sheets in her bedchamber.
All of a sudden, the snapping of a branch somewhere close causes her to flinch. 
In tandem, they both turn towards the noise as it transforms into foreboding rustling of leaves and something akin to footfall against the muddy ground; forcing a shiver to crawl under her skin.   
She’s beginning to prepare herself to face some gruesome monster when out of the blue, the smallest white-tailed deer she’s ever laid her eyes upon, pokes its head from behind a tree trunk.   
She gasps in adoration; tiptoeing closer to the trembling animal before crouching down.   
“Hello there. Why are you here all by yourself?” she asks with a tender coo— mindfully reaching a hand out to pet its ruffled head.  
Seemingly liking her, it takes a careful step towards her in a moment of bravery; teddy bear eyes curious.   
“Well, aren’t you adorable? I wish I had something for you to eat but I don’t,” she croons out as it nestles its slobbery nose into the hollow of her hand, when all at once, its button eyes dilate and its fleecy ears lift up in alarm.  
“Wha—” she doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence before it’s hurriedly scrambling away from her and disappearing into the viridescent foliage in the blink of an eye.   
She looks over her shoulder to locate the source of such horror, coming face-to-face with a gleaming blade and Rafe’s threatening eyes fixed on her suddenly immobile form.   
“What are you—” her words wither away on her frightened tongue when he abruptly brings the hunting knife to her throat—terror wrapping around her like yarn, tautening around her organs and making her helpless heart thump against her ribcage in a state of hysteria. 
“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, alright? I promise I’ll make it quick,” he sounds determined, her unnerved eyes rounding out. 
“Rafe, you don’t— you don’t have to do this,” she manages out before she feels the harsh edge cut into her delicate skin just the slightest bit— a droplet of crimson trickling down her neck and towards her heaving chest.  
His gaze tracks the rivulet as it dribbles down all the way into her cleavage; leaving a scarlet trail to stain her skin in its wake as her pounding head begins to spin. 
She sits there on the forest floor, unmoving and unable to properly suck in air through her lungs as trepidation slithers itself into the crevices of her bones; merging into her marrow and turning her limbs into icebound liquid. 
“You think I want to?” he mutters out through his teeth.   
“I— I don’t understand...why are you doing this?” she squeaks out when he squeezes the handle in his fist— seemingly torn between two alternatives yanking him into separate directions, their claws scraping at both of his arms.  
“Cause the queen wants your heart on a platter n’ I’m supposed to be doin’ what Her Majesty tells me to, yeah?” he spits out the title as if it’s rotten; as if it’s tasted acrid in his mouth for a long while now.   
“My heart? Why would she want my heart?” she asks with something akin to hurt in her voice; not realizing her stepmother’s hatred towards her branched as far as wanting her dead.   
“Cause she’s lost her fuckin’ mind,” he huffs out; still tightly gripping onto the weapon. “...but then you look at me with those fuckin’ eyes and how am I— how am I supposed to…kill that?” he rambles more to himself than her, making her brows knit together even further.  
“You don’t— you don’t have to, you can let me go and I’ll— I’ll hide in the forest,” she suggests, voice wavering.  
“And freeze to death?” he scoffs.  
“I thought you wanted me dead?” she sounds disconcerted.  
“I don’t want you dead!” his volume is as clamorous as thunder, frustrated.   
“But you’re holding a knife to my throat?” her voice trembles; the frigid steel still imprinting her skin.  
“Yeah, cause I’m supposed to fuckin’ kill you, alright?”  
“I…I don’t understand,” her tone is a muted whisper and at last, he loosens his hold on the knife— a faint thud echoing in the space between them as it hits the soil covered in moss. 
Then, he’s shaking his head, seemingly exasperated with the girl before him. “Talkin’ to fuckin’ deers n’ shit. I mean, who the hell does that?”   
“I…I do? They’re my friends, why wouldn’t I talk to them?” she bats her lashes at him, seemingly confused out her innocent little mind. 
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he lets out bitter scoff. “Now tell me, what am I supposed to do with you, hm?”   
“You’re not going to…” she swallows the rest of the words— too vile, brutal for her to say out loud.   
“Since you’re makin’ it so fuckin’ hard, no,” he lets out a displeased breath before presenting his palm for her to hold onto.  
“Get up,” he orders, nearly glaring at her.  
“Oh, um, thank you,” she blinks up at his frowning countenance, gingerly grasping onto his much bigger hand and letting him lift her up with ease.  
“Right, uh, why don’t we get you somewhere warm, yeah? You must be freezin’ only wearin’ that dress,” he clears his throat when he notices a tremor rattling through her in tandem with a frosty breeze sweeping past them.  
Taken aback by his sudden concern over her well-being, she merely stands there with a blank expression before he flits his eyes over to hers; seemingly expecting a response. 
“Oh, um...I think— I think I saw a cottage on our way here,” hesitation tinges her suggestion.  
“You did? Where?”  
“It was, um…” she pads along the faint traces of their original route she had sidetracked from in order to greet the baby deer— his heavy footsteps following close behind.   
“There,” she points her index finger towards a small hut partly hidden away behind old, lush trees. 
When they step onto the threshold, she softly knocks on the mahogany door decorated with intricate swirls and designs embedded into the wood.   
“Hello? Would it be possible if we could come in to warm up a little bit? It’s terribly cold out here,” she politely asks.   
However, they��re not granted any sort of a reply.   
“I don’t think anyone’s home,” Rafe notes as he peers through the windows into the unlit interior, before trying his luck and pushing down the handle.  
To both of their surprise, the door is unlocked.   
“Rafe! We can’t just break into someone’s home,” she scolds him with wide eyes.   
“S’not breakin’ in if the door’s open,” he merely shrugs before cautiously stepping inside— having to duck his head since the roof is hanging far too low for his tall figure.   
He looks around the compact space, as if to make sure they truly are alone, before glancing over his shoulder at her still tentative form shivering in the doorway. “What are you waitin’ for? Come in. Unless you wanna get sick standin’ out there?”   
She feels guilt eat away at her soul when she gingerly steps inside the cozy cabin, feeling far too much like an intruder, even if Rafe doesn’t seem all that bothered by entering a complete stranger’s place of residence without permission.  
“Shit, why are these chairs so small?” he complains when the wooden stool creaks under his weigh; threatening to crack as he lights up some candles he found— the walls soon bathing under the burnt-orange flames.    
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she suggests meekly.   
“S’not like we have options to choose from,” he points out; stretching his big arms over his head in an attempt to get comfortable.  
“You’re right...I’m sure whoever lives here will understand we needed a place to stay, right?” she tries to convince herself in hopes of brushing her worries under the rug.  
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s see if they have anything to eat around here,” he dismisses her as he stands tall on his feet once more, before he’s opening and closing the cabinets and cupboards in a search for food.  
“Why do they have so many fuckin’ apples in here?” he mindlessly questions when he sees a pile of the red fruit hiding behind one door.  
“Oh, I could make you an apple pie?” 
He turns to look at her beaming with that sudden grand idea of hers.  
“Uh, m’not sure if that’s…”  
“Do you not like them?” she sounds nearly concerned, as if not liking apple pies should be considered a crime in the fairytale world inside her skull.   
“Nah, I do, I just— shouldn’t we be comin’ up with some plan to keep you safe n’ shit? And not bakin’ pies. We don’t really have all the time in the world before the queen finds out you’re alive,” he mutters out. 
“Well, I don’t know about you but I can’t think with an empty stomach. And, um, it would also be a thank you for you sparing my life,” she timidly looks up at him. 
He clears his throat at that, seemingly surprised by her sentimentality; feeling unworthy of the gratitude she’s so willingly offering him. “Right, yeah, uh, alright. Well, you do that and I’ll go get us some firewood or somethin’, yeah?”  
“That sounds perfect,” she smiles.  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
Later, when he returns to the cottage, the saccharine smell of oven-baked apples instantaneously whirls around him— holding him in a cinnamon-scented embrace and dragging a grumble from his stomach.   
“Oh, you’re back just in time!” she exclaims as she sets down two porcelain plates for them.  
“I might’ve went a little overboard with the cinnamon but I hope you don’t mind?” she asks while cutting through the steaming pie that’s making him practically drool.   
“Uh, nah, I…love cinnamon,” he murmurs, not sure why he just said that since he doesn’t particularly even like cinnamon. However, he’s certain that nothing that smells like that could possibly taste bad.  
“Really? Me too!”  
He thinks this is the first time he’s seen her eyes glitter in that way; as if he’s just single-handedly hung the moon or professed his undying love for her. It makes something unfamiliar poke at his insides— scratching at his organs and begging to be let out. However, he decides not to pay it any mind as he sits down on the kitchen chair that’s still entirely too tiny for him.   
“Do you like it?” she asks with her gaze glued to his expression when he takes his first bite. She hasn’t even touched her own slice; opting to stare at him instead and momentarily, he wonders why she’s so eager to please him.   
“This might just be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he can’t help but groan out loud in response to the luscious flavors practically melting on his tongue.  
She swallows at that, mind seemingly stuck somewhere else entirely before she softly clears her throat. “You, um, you think so?”   
“Uh huh,” he hums out with delight before shoving another forkful of softened apple pieces and golden-brown crust into his mouth— a smirk soon blossoming on his face when he catches on to the double entendre of his mindless compliment that apparently turned her all shy.     
“Someone’s got a dirty mind,” he chuckles, mocking her.   
“I…” she opens and then closes her mouth like a goldfish. “I do not—”   
“Alright, you caught me. Second best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he decides to toy with this sweet little princess some more, for some reason wants to see her all flustered; in some crooked way enjoys having an effect on her.   
“Um, right…yeah,” she stumbles over her words; eyes flickering towards her plate as she finally digs into her own portion.   
He’s all too preoccupied grinning at the way she’s avoiding his gaze when out of the blue, the sight of a bed peeking through the slightly ajar bedroom door catches his attention.  
And it’s not so much the piece of furniture that halts his chewing and makes a crease form between his brows, but more so the size of it. It forces his feet to move on their own accord to the room where he’s met with six more beds— just as minuscule as the first one.  
At that, he wonders if he really was so caught up with the princess that his brain couldn’t fit the very clear pieces together any earlier.   
“Oh shit, I think I know these guys n’ I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see me here when they get back,” he mutters while padding back towards the kitchen. 
“What do you mean?” concern paints over her features.   
“Nah, nothin’ just…uh, they don’t like me very much, so we gotta leave. I mean, they probably won’t mind you bein’ here all that much. They’re probably real friendly if you don’t piss them off like I have,” he scratches at the back of his head.      “What did you do?”  
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Uh, I have this cabin for when I’m hunting, but s’not very close. Think we should be safe there for tonight though. Unless you wanna stay here?”   
“No, I wanna go with you. I— I don’t want to stay here alone,” she’s quick to answer. 
“You sure?” he raises his brows.  
She nods.   
“Yeah? S’probably gonna be a few hours on foot. Think you can walk for that long in the woods, princess?” he asks next, his cadence turning into something playful.   
“Of course I can. I have two healthy legs,” she sounds almost offended. 
“I can see that,” an entertained smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “And you’re not scared of the dark either?” he adds, almost as if testing her.  
“Of course not,” she lies through her teeth— eliciting a humored chuckle from him.  
“Mm. Could’ve sworn you were getting a little jumpy on our way here, but must’ve imagined it, right?” he drawls out, eyes narrowing in a challenge. 
“Yeah…” she doesn’t give in, a smile beginning to pull at her lips to match his own; neither of them seeming to mind when something feather-light takes the place of the once leaden ambience between them. 
Momentarily, she wonders why she’d never talked to this strangely captivating hunter before— his blue velvet eyes nearly entrancing, compelling her into an incantation she seems to unconsciously gravitate towards.   
However, the spell is soon broken when he takes a step closer to her, leaning over towards the table to blow off the flickering blaze of the candles— a dusky obscurity dancing around them once more. 
1K notes · View notes
probably-writing-x · 2 years ago
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Armour - Chapter Three
Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.
Warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, cursing, i think that’s everything?
Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long to come out !! I went away for a few days and had the busiest week ever but I’m back y’all and I love you <3. Also, I love this storyyyyy !!
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———
Rafe’s plan had only been to stay for a few days. And those ‘few’ days were rapidly coming to an end. You’d noticed it first when you’d made your way downstairs and his bag was now packed beside the couch, a duffle only half full. There was a pair of shoes sat next to it and his jacket slung over the top - likely for when he got back to New York. He hadn’t mentioned to you about him leaving, hadn’t even really spoken about New York at all - when you asked him how life was in the city, he rolled his eyes and said ‘you make me sound so pretentious’. You hadn’t asked again and it hadn’t ever come up in conversation, and so you’d just assumed he didn’t want to talk about it yet. But with his bag seemingly waiting for him to go, the realisation dawned on you that you now might not get the chance.
“Good morning!” Rafe looks up as you walk through to the kitchen, “Sleep well?”
You smile, his face is more tanned now than when he arrived, the sun working to return to him, “Yeah, all good. Did you?”
He nods, “Yeah, I just had to get up early to see a couple of people.”
Yesterday night had felt so normal. You’d swam until the sun had fully disappeared, and Rafe spent the next half an hour pretending he knew the stars in the sky, though you were certain he only named one of the constellations right - one of the ones that everyone knows. The pair of you had decided to leave when you were both shivering and you’d lost all feeling in your feet. You’d wrapped towels around you and he’d chased you when you stole his. You showered and changed into the warmest clothes you could find, sat on the couch with Rafe and a mug of tea as the night passed, both of you eventually giving in to sleep when your eyes felt too heavy to beat.
“Do you fancy pancakes?” He suggests, “I want pancakes.”
“As long as you’re better at making them by now,” You point out, walking around the side of the kitchen island.
“Hey! Cut me some slack okay? I was like eighteen!”
“Still old enough to know how to make pancakes,” You shake your head, opening a couple of the cupboards to look for ingredients.
The last time the two of you made pancakes together was when you were both in high school - your options were either revising for finals or finding something else to distract yourselves. You’d opted for the latter. You’d walked the long way to the shop and bought ingredients, whisked up a batch of pancake batter and spilt flour all over the counter. Rafe had been in charge of cooking them, but he’d left the heat too high on the pan and used way too much oil, and the first attempt at a pancake resulted in batter spattering up from the pan and flying into the air. He’d yelled at you jokingly to take cover and had pulled you under the shelter of his arms, your head crushed against his chest as the two of you laughed. You hadn’t thought about it too much then - you’d been dating James by that point anyway. But, now, the thought of Rafe’s arms around you like that made your heart swell just a little.
“Okay what do we need?” Rafe asks, rummaging in one of the cupboards to pull out a big bowl and a whisk.
You lay out the few ingredients on the countertop and start to pour rough measurements of them into the bowl, waiting as Rafe whisks them around, some flour splashing over the lip of the bowl.
“Rafe! Careful!” You laugh, hitting at his arm.
“See? Don’t hit me, you made it worse,” He shakes his head, “So messy (Y/N).”
You roll your eyes and take out a pan, pouring a tiny bit of oil onto the surface and swirling it around.
“Okay so, from experience, we need to be ready to run,” Rafe comments, pouring a circle of batter into the pan.
“So, this is going better than last time,” You smile, “It’s good to see we’ve both got better at doing this.”
“Alright, flip it!” He encourages, watching you patiently.
“Oh, god, no, I’m terrible at flipping them,” You shake your head, “Can you do it?”
Rafe laughs and steps around so that he is stood behind you, his arms wrapping around either side. His hands fold themselves over yours on the handle of the pan, his chest flush against your back.
“We’ll both do it,” He mumbles, his chin above your head to watch the sight in front of the two of you, “Ready?”
He tightens his grip around your hands and lifts the pan up, both of you watching as the pancake flips. It lands on its other side but one of the sides folds upwards on itself.
“Okay so we’re still not the best at making pancakes but we’re definitely getting better.”
You manage to make up enough pancakes for three each and a small pile of mini ones because Rafe always says it’s the best bit when you share them between you. You put maple syrup on yours and he puts whipped cream on his and the two of you sit beside each other on the kitchen island, your elbows bumping as you cut into the fluffy pancakes.
“So, what are your plans for today?” You ask him, wiping your mouth on a napkin.
“Well, I should pro-“
“Hey!” Sarah interrupts, coming through to the kitchen.
You’re sure her bump has grown even in the days you’d been here, and every time you saw her you got a new ounce of excitement for seeing her become a Mom - a day you’d spoken about since the two of you were in pigtails.
“So, John B’s got work to do today,” Sarah explains, “But I need help picking out a crib for the nursery. What do you say we leave in like thirty minutes?”
You nod, “Yeah, of course, I’ll come with you. I’ll go and get ready now.”
Your eyes catch Rafe’s for a brief second and you can see something in them that you hadn’t noticed before, like an odd uncertainty or something close to a guilt. But you offer him a smile and he smiles back before his eyes flick away from you, back down to the fork in his hands.
~~~
Within the hour, you and Sarah are already at the only store on the islands that could actually sell cribs - though the options were limited and you were sure it would be a better choice to accept JJ’s offer of making one for her. You pick up a few other supplies whilst you’re there though - a wooden decoration for the nursery wall, a book shelve with clouds on either end, a few story books with no more than five words per page. Eventually, you give up on the rest, and go to the coffee shop together, taking a seat at a different table from the one you’d been at with James.
“So, did the talk with James make you feel better about things?” Sarah asks, stirring a spoon around her decaff coffee.
You take a deep breath, “I think so… I don’t know.”
She smiles a little, “I figured.”
“I just-“ You shake your head, “I still don’t get it, you know? The reasons he’s giving me, the way he’s acting - I still don’t know how he thinks he’s made the right decision by throwing away a nine year relationship,” You spill, words seeming to tumble into the space between you.
“Well, when you saw him did you want to go back to him?”
You stop then, letting the question sit.
“If he’d have told you then that he wanted to get back together with you, would you have gone?”
The words settle and you still have no response. There’s not a single thought in your mind that could string a sentence together. When you’d seen James yesterday, he wasn’t a boy who knew you. His hands weren’t outstretched to hold your heart, his eyes not flooded with an admiration he would only have for you, his brain not ticking over to remember every detail you’d told him. And you hadn’t reached for him either. You hadn’t felt that pull to return, the kind that made you fight back tears, made your heart feel like it broke a little more in your chest, your hopes sink a little further down into your stomach. It was like there was a wall - one you hadn’t much noticed before. And you realise it all then. You didn’t want to go back to him. And when your mind tried to really consider it, there was only one face you could imagine wanting to go back to…
“(Y/N)?”
You hadn’t realised your eyes filling with tears, the kind that you could place bets on falling or disappearing. You hadn’t noticed your hands gripping too tightly onto the cup on the table in front of you. Or the way Sarah looked at you like she’d just watched a piece of your facade crumble away right in front of her.
“I’m sorry, what wa-“ You shake your head and the tears choose to disappear this time, “Is it okay if we head home?”
She frowns a little as is in worry but nods, “Of course, yeah, of course we can.”
Your drink wasn’t gone, the bill not printed, your stomach rumbled in the absence of food - but there was only one thing on your mind. And you’re in the car to go home before you have the chance to think again.
Sarah chooses not to talk on the drive, the light hum of music between you filling the air enough until she pulls into the driveway. But it’s weird. There’s an odd gut feeling when you get out of the car - like an inevitability you hadn’t considered. You suppress it for enough time that the key turns in the lock and Sarah steps into the house, you following behind.
Your eyes flick to it immediately. The space beside the couch, on the floor just below the armrest. Where a half-full duffle bag and a jacket and a pair of shoes should sit. But nothing is there. Your eyes then move to the end table beside the couch - where a phone and a tangled charging cable and a glass of untouched water should sit. But nothing is there. And the couch - sheets folded atop a single pillow in the middle. All traces of him seemingly wiped away.
Sarah looks back at you, setting the shopping bag down onto the counter, and she realises it instantly, “He didn’t tell you?”
“He-“ You clear your throat, shaking your head, “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I’m so sorry (Y/N), I thought you’d know,” She comes back over to you, eyes seeking to find your gaze, “He told me he wasn’t leaving until tonight, so I figured we’d be back before he left. I don’t know wh-“
“He’s just gone?” You half-cough to get the block out of your throat, “He can’t just-“
“Look, he can’t be leaving yet, maybe you could catch him before he goes?” Sarah pushes the car keys into your hands, “Take the truck.”
Your heart sinks and for a moment you rethink it all. Maybe you should let him go. It would be easier. He’d leave now, maybe come back when the baby is born, maybe you’d see him again at Christmas, and again at the baby’s first birthday party, and again and again on these little pocketed trips where you made no attempt to catch up, and instead accepted every inevitability of falling back into each other’s comfort. You’d sneak out and swim at sunset with him again, laugh about the little things that he remembered, and let him leave without a prolonged goodbye. He’d go back to his life and you’d stay in yours.
No.
Not this time, at least.
~~~
You’re not sure where you’re driving to when you first get in the truck, feeling out of place behind the wheel, your head pounding with the focus of getting to a place you had no idea about.
You drive around the road leading from the side of Sarah and John B’s house, winding down until it trails alongside the docks. It forces another snippet back into your memory - one of the hottest days on the island when a killer heatwave had swept over. Rafe had stolen the keys to his father’s speedboat and the two of you had gone out together. You’d gone as far out into the water that half of the fuel would take you and stayed out there all day. It was too hot and you’d overheated almost instantly on the dock of the boat, diminishing your food and drink supply too soon, diving off into the water and staying there until you could come up with a thousand reasons to go back. It was the last time you’d seen Rafe before you moved to college. You’d got back to the dock and an endless string of missed calls from James - telling you that you should’ve been home an hour ago. Rafe had smiled and told you to leave, saying goodbyes weren’t necessary.
That’s when you stop the car. And you get out without overthinking once again, shutting the door behind you. The sound awakens something in the seemingly empty space. And within seconds your eyes divert themselves directly to the barely visible along one of the old docks now half-covered with the overgrowing of reeds. He’s wearing a t-shirt, slightly stretched over the muscles of his back, hanging a little looser around his stomach. Without seeing his face, it could be the old version of himself - younger, less of a shadow of stubble around his jaw, less of that serious adult look about him. But it doesn’t take him long to turn around, as if he can practically feel you from even metres away from him.
“Let me guess, you want me to steal my father’s boat again?” He calls over to you, his words catching a little on the breeze before they reach you.
You don’t have it in you to humour him now - all you could think about was the empty space next to the couch, where his bag should have been. The bag that was now at his feet.
“You thought you were just going to leave?” You return, squinting against the sun to focus on him as you start to walk the length of the dock.
Rafe smiles a little and looks down at his feet, “Goodbyes have never been necessary.”
“Don’t give me that shit,” You jab back, stopping on the dock still further from him.
Your eyes focus on the wood beneath you - 18 planks between the two of you, feeling like it was now impossible to be any closer.
“Why were you going to go?” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Wh- why weren’t you going to tell me?”
He scratches a hand at the back of his head, his eyes not meeting yours, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“Say goodbye.”
“(Y/N),” Rafe winces, his eyes finally lifting to they meet yours.
“Look Rafe I-“
“I’m going back to New York,” He interjects, “My flight is today, I’m going back. You’ll be here and I’ll be there. Same as always.”
You swallow every word you’d thought of saying to him on the drive over, every thought that had cycled through your brain of how he would respond. None of that seemed to matter anymore.
“We’ll be five hundred miles away from each other again. It’s great being back here but my life isn’t in the Outer Banks anymore. I know you’re here again, but this place isn’t for me, there’s nothing for me here, I don’t want to stay here,” He clenches his jaw, “I-“
“You’re going,” You state coldly, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I get it. I just wanted you to say goodbye.”
Rafe swallows the lump in his throat, watching the way your face shifts away from him, how you practically recoil away. He’d never seen you respond like that to him, and it boils a sickening feeling in his stomach. He wants to reach out to you, to wrap his arms around you, to tell you to come with him, to tell him he’d stay here - to say anything that would remove every ounce of the hurt he’d just caused.
You keep your eyes on the planks between you, the eighteen spaces feeling further apart than ever now. This place isn’t for me. There’s nothing for me here. Is that really what he thought? Did he think of himself as the big shot city guy and you as the girl that had just come home to nothing? Was that all he could ever really think of you? Was that what he’d been thinking this entire week; that he’d outgrown you?
“You better get going if you want to make it to your flight in time,” You point out, “Wouldn’t want to miss it.”
You can feel his eyes on you and you glance up to find them glassy as he watches you, his hair falling down just slightly and casting shadows over his forehead. He swallows and it bobs his adam’s apple in his throat.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I guess I should,” He glances around his space and picks up the bag beside his ankles, shifting his grip around the handle, “(Y/N)…”
You keep your eyes on him and the focused gaze makes both of you silent. It’s like a thousand unspoken words float in the air between you, catching on the hot air and whisking away as soon as the breeze returns to cool them down. Rafe had been there when you needed him, like he always was. And when you’d first left for college, with James and a new future planned, you hadn’t thought about needing Rafe. When you’d come home, it was like a tiny battery charge if you got to see him - pieces of your youth returning. But you were living separate lives. And, now, as Rafe was leaving again, you felt like you still needed him.
That couldn’t be how things were. He couldn’t only exist in your space when you needed him. And that would be something you’d have to figure out on your own.
“Have a safe flight,” You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself and turning around.
You walk and you don’t look back, as much as each step tries to convince you to. You don’t. You can’t.
Part of you wants to hear his steps on the planks behind you, the sound of the bag thudding against the wood, the sound of him breathless, turning you around.
But he doesn’t.
You get further away and the air seems to get cooler, less dense. There’s a weight on your chest that doesn’t let up, but you force yourself to breathe in and breathe out once, twice, three times. If you could breathe without him, you’d be fine. If you could walk without him, you’d be fine. And, piece by piece, those things would all become possible, all without him.
~~~
It had been two weeks since Rafe had left. He hadn’t texted, though you’d overheard from Sarah that he’d landed safely and that he’d be back again in a few months.
The past two weeks had been full of doing things on your own, for yourself. And it had been flooded with realisation, decisions you wouldn’t have made before.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean?”
Sarah’s sat across from you next to John B, both of them dumbfounded at your announcement. He was sat back in his chair with his arms folded, her leaning forward with her hands on the kitchen counter in front of her, as if steadying herself.
“I’m moving to London,” You repeat, more sure of yourself than you’d been in a long time.
“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She shakes her head, “You’re just going?”
“What about the logistics of everything?” John B frowns, “Isn’t there stuff you have to think about with this?”
“Well, it’s only short term for now, so I could get all the visa stuff sorted just on short term, I’m moving into an Air BnB for the time being, and then I’ll decide if I want to move somewhere more permanent. But, right now, I just know I need to go,” You nod assertively, “And, you know, what’s wrong with London?”
“How long will you be gone for?” Sarah frowns, “It’s going to be so weird not having you here.”
“I know, but it’s only a flight away, right?” You encourage, “I’ll come back, I promise.”
“Why do you want to leave?” John B asks, looking at you as if it were a stranger in front of him.
“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was like seventeen. I fell in love with James, I moved away with him, I graduated with him, I moved back here with him, everything in my life has been so determined. And he took that from me. And ever since then I’d been using the excuse of Rafe being here to stop me from actually admitting to anything that had happened,” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Rafe is important to me, and he always will be. But I can’t rely on him to piece me back together. And I can’t rely on you guys either. So, I need just a few months. Just to reset.”
Sarah takes a deep breath like she is finally accepting what you’ve said, “Okay, so you’re going to London. And you’re going to come back?”
“I’ll come back,” You encourage, “I just can’t be here.”
———
Taglist: @viianey @baby19sthings @tsokaro @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starkeylover
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suncoved · 3 months ago
Text
BIG MAN ON CAMPUS! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; fratboy!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary; you come to your first college party and have the worst panic attack of your life. who knew your knight in shining armour would be the captain of the biggest fraternity and the biggest fuck boy on campus
warnings ; panic attacks, anxiety, drugging, angst but like fluff!!
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"Liv, i'm really not sure about this"
You're best friend and roommate looked at you with a blank stare, watching as you pulled the tight white dress down that had ridden up your thighs. She had dragged you out of your dorm only 20 minutes ago, telling you that if you didn't come she was going to wake you up with a bucket of ice water.
"Cmon babe, you made me promise i would drag you to at least one party this year. and i don't break a promise. Which also means that i promise if you don't like the first 30 minutes, then we can go home and eat 30 pounds of ice cream and pass out in our makeup"
You smiled at her, trying to push yourself through whatever anxiety was coursing through you. Liv was really a good friend, even if she was harsh about it at times, you know that she wanted the best for you.
The smell of booze and sweat hit your nose immediately as you walked into the frat house, the music blasting and the rainbow lights blinding against the otherwise dark space.
Liv pulled you to the corner of the living room, smiling brightly at you and giving you an extra tight hug. "Ok! I'm gonna go get us some drinks, stay right there and don't move!"
She had to yell because of how loud the music was, wasting no time before disappearing into the kitchen.
You stood in the party like a fish out of water, biting your lip as you looked down at your feet.
You'd like to say that you weren't that much of an introvert. I mean sure you liked to be curled up with a good book from time to time, and you were studying a bit more than healthy. But you like to go out and shop with friends, talk to new people in your classes and slumber parties on the weekends.
But parties were something you did not do. It had a combination of all the things you disliked most in life. loud music, people yelling, drinking, flashing bright lights and... frat boys.
You'd already been brought out of your shell at college, you were confident enough now to present in classes and partner up with new people on assignments, but this was pushing it.
You were a sweet girl, but naive. You didn't have enough experience with greedy men and even you would admit that you resembled a lost deer more often than you would like.
You lifted your head as you heard someone approach you, looking up quickly as you assumed it was Liv coming back from the kitchen.
But it wasn't Liv.
A brunette looked straight at you as you made eye contact with him, a red solo cup resting in his hand.
"What's a pretty girl like you standing here all alone in the corner" he stated, inching closer to you as you subconsciously stepped back a bit. "I'm Jeremey"
He reached out his hand to you to shake, only to receive a dumbfounded look on your face.
"Normally people reply back with their name, Babe"
"Oh! Sorry!" you replied flustered, repeating back your name as he grinned wide, showing his bright smile.
You didn't want to admit that when Jeremy was talking to you, you continually kept glancing over at the entrance to the kitchen, hoping that the next person to walk out was Liv, who was going to hopefully come to save you from this conversation.
"Hey, I was experimenting in the kitchen, wanna try my new concoction." Jeremy dangled the red solo cup in your face, the liquid pink and smelling of strawberries.
"No thank you. I don't drink" you replied sweetly, hoping to be polite and not upset him. "There's barely any in it, promise. Pleaseee, don't wanna hurt my feelings, do you?" He replied in annoyance.
A pang of hurt shot through you as you panicked, how could you have been so rude! Jeremy was taking time out of his day to talk to you and you rejected a drink he made you?
"Oh! no, I'm sorry. Thank you so much" you replied, taking the cup out of his hands and looking down at the liquid. He watched closely as you took a sip, your face twisting at the strong flavour of vodka.
"What do you think?" he smirked as he asked, bringing his hand up to your lips and wiping the extra liquid off with his thumb.
"Its- its great, thank you" you replied, your heart beating faster as you started to feel increasingly more uncomfortable. He watched you closely as he hinted to you to drink more, looking down at you like he was a wolf, and you were his prey.
You held back tears as you felt the room start to spin under your feet, your cheeks feeling hot and your hands shaking involuntarily. It hit you quickly that this wasn't alcohol that was making you feel like this, no, it was something else. Something much, much worse.
And you didn't want to stick around to figure out what it was.
"Um, sorry Jeremy, I need to go to the bathroom" you spoke up, using all your courage to push through the crowd quickly as he followed.
Your breath was now speeding up as you fought your way through the waves of people, your steps becoming faster as you felt the room spinning more and more, tears streaming down your face.
You didn't know where the bathrooms in this place were, but you didn't have time to think about that now.
You just needed to find Liv, or someone, anyone.
Your eyes fell on a room at the end of the hall, light spilling out of the crack where the door failed to meet the floor.
You didn't have time to think, just to act. Your balled fist made it up to the door, knocking over and over again as you looked behind you, Jeremy in the crowd but looking all over for what you assumed to be you.
You didn't even want to begin to imagine how stupid you looked, or how impolite you were being as your knocks became harsher and frantic as Jeremy came closer.
"Jesus, learn how to wait your fucking turn" a voice sounded as the door opened. you didn't even look away from Jeremy as you tumbled into the bathroom, accidentally bringing the person in the door with you.
"Yo, what the fuc-" the aggressive voice came to a halt quickly, but you all you could focus on was your breathing, which was out of control.
Your cheeks were wet with tears as you closed your eyes, bringing your hands up to your face and letting yourself sob. "I- I can't breathe" You let out, unknowing if you were talking to yourself or the person in the space with you.
You couldn't even handle your anxiety and emotions when you were in control of your body, let alone now.
That's the main reason you don't drink, because you tend to freak out to the point of no return, and this, this was much worse.
Your face was buried in your hands as the person softly closed the door to the bathroom. You didn't even register him softly moving you to sit on the toilet seat in the bathroom, kneeling down and removing your hands from your face.
You opened your eyes to see a man's face looking back at you, his features painted with worry and his body distanced enough away from you as to not upset you even more.
"Hey- hey. Its ok, what's wrong?" the boy asked, trying not to show how confused he was on how to deal with this situation. "Are you hurt?"
You shook your head quickly at his statement, your tears slowly coming to a halt as your vision became less blurry. You could now see his face more clearly. Fluffy dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, soft pink lips.
"Uh, um. Wait" He spoke, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since you entered the bathroom. He started frantically opening draws and cabinets, stopping when he found a box of tissues under the sink.
"Here" you looked between him and the box he was handing you before taking it in your hands, your fingers brushing past each other momentarily.
"Thank you, i-i promise I'm not this much of a mess all the time." You replied, earning a soft smile from the man. "It's ok, it happens to the best of us. Have you taken anything, or just drunk?" He asked delicately.
Rafe didn't understand what he was feeling at this moment. Because he'd never felt it before.
Sure he could be an asshole sometimes, He was rude and got into fights on occasion, and he had been known to make girls complete the walk of shame out of his room involuntarily after a big night out, but that didn't mean he would ever leave a clearly intoxicated girl alone at a frat party.
But this, this was different. He had to know what was wrong with you, and he had to fix it. Sure you were a mystery to him and only met you seconds ago, but he wasn't leaving until he knew you were safe and sound... and had given him your name.
"I don't drink- or, at least I didn't. This boy gave me something, it tasted weird. Then I got all dizzy and now- now I can't stop crying" You rambled, sighing softly and looking into his eyes.
He gazed back at you, running his tongue around his teeth before seemingly snapping out of the trance he was in. "Did you know the guy?" He huffed, obviously agitated with your reply as he ran his fingers through his hair.
You shook your head softly, a wave of sadness running through you because you couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Tears started running down your face again suddenly as you kept repeating 'I'm sorry' over and over again.
He lifted his thumb up to your cheek, softly brushing the tears away. "Hey it's okay, Don't worry. I'll keep you safe"
He didn't understand the feelings he was feeling, He had never craved to protect someone so much, He had never been this gentle in his whole life.
"What's your name?" he asked, distracting you to hopefully stop the flow of tears streaming down your face. He felt like if you didn't stop crying in the next minute, he was going to lose it.
You answered your name to him, earning a soft smile. "I'm Rafe, it's nice to meet you." He finished the sentence with your name, sending shivers down your spine.
"Liv" You gasped, making his head tilt in confusion before you shot up from your seat. "Wow, ma. Slow down, what do you mean?" Rafe replied, holding your hips to stop you from completely falling over. You sat back down quickly in defeat, your eyes wide with panic.
"Liv, I-I came here with my friend Liv. I'm gonna scare her. I need to find her." You gasped, your voice trembling as you spoke. "It's ok, We'll find her. Don't worry, it's ok." He repeated, desperate for your face to get back to your normal expression, aka, not struck with terror.
It was obvious to Rafe through the glaze cast over your eyes, the shaking from your hands and the drooping of your eyelids that someone had slipped something into your drink.
He had hosted enough parties at his fraternity to know what insecure, probably small dicked boys, not men, can do to women. And it revolted him.
"R-rafe. I'm gonna go to sleep now" You whispered, your body finally giving out before you could stop it, his arms quickly coming up to stabilize you before you toppled over.
He bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do, pulling your body into his arms as you didn't even stir. He was scared. So scared.
He didn't know what you were given, how much you were given, what would happen after you woke up, if you even woke up at all.
He carried you up the stairs and into his bedroom, unlocking the door and locking it behind him again. His room was the only one with a lock in the whole house, because he was damned if he was going to walk in on random strangers having drunk sex on his bed.
He rested you softly on his bed, making sure your head was comfortably on his pillow and resting a blanket over your body after taking your heels off.
He looked at your sleeping form, your long eyelashes resting on your cheeks, your hair falling softly over your shoulders and your chest rising and falling with your breaths.
He looked at you one last time before leaving his room, ignoring every person greeting him as he made a beeline straight for the living room.
He scanned over the large crowd in the house, numerous people dancing, some making out, his frat brothers doing keg stands, and one very panicked girl going up to every stranger she sees.
Rafe took no time before walking straight to the girl in the middle of the dance floor, tapping her on the shoulder. She turns immediately to face Rafe, her face struck with confusion.
"Are you Liv?" Rafe asks, earning a confused nod from the girl in front of him” I am! Have you seen my best friend anywhere? She's about yay height, really pretty, heart of gold, she kinda looks like that baby deer from that Disney movie, she's wearing this white dress and-"
Rafe stops her ramble with a quick nod causing her eyes to widen. "What? Where is she?"
"In my bed" Rafe replied, remembering he wasn't all that good with small talk. "What? What the fuck do you mean, in your bed? What did you do? I swear to god-"
"Ok, calm down. Someone gave her something. I found her in the bathroom sobbing before she passed out. I put her in my bed then came down here, end of story" He replied, starting to get slightly agitated.
The girl he now knows to be Liv quickly walks off, heading straight for upstairs where the bedrooms are. Rafe rolls his eyes before following swiftly behind her, though he's glad that there's someone out there other than him trying to protect his newfound soft spot.
Liv halts at all the bedrooms, looking expectantly at Rafe before he walks in front of her and opens his door. Liv immediately rushes to you, still passed out on Rafe's bed.
She sits next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead. "Of course, on the first party she goes to, some sick fuck roofies her and she ends up in Rafe Cameron's bed" Liv speaks, not taking her eyes off you.
"How do you know my name?" Rafe asks, not even bothering to look at the person he's talking to as he focuses on your chest rising and falling. "Ha, everyone knows who you are Rafe. And if I find out you had anything to do with her getting hurt, I'm gonna chop your dick off and feed it to you and make sure everyone on campus knows it"
It would be a lie to say Rafe wasn't slightly amused by your best friend's words, holding back his smile and keeping his face stern. "I would never do that shit. Especially not to her" Liv's eyebrow quirked in confusion at the last bit of his sentence.
She knows for a fact that you did not know Rafe Cameron before this night, let alone any frat boys. Liv could cry at the sight of your passed-out form, taking full blame and responsibility for the fact that you got hurt when she was meant to protect you.
She pulled her phone out from her purse, about to call an Uber back to the dorms for both of you. "No, I'll drive you" He stated, not leaving room for an argument
Liv nodded slowly before pulling the blanket off you, your body involuntarily starting to shiver from the cold air.
Rafe walked over to his closet, grabbing his warmest hoodie. Liv looked up at him as he raised your body softly, placing the hoodie over your head and softly lifting you up into his arms.
Rafe walked with Liv down to the road outside the fraternity house, receiving hundreds of stares from people in the crowd. But he didn't care, all he cared about was you.
He let Liv open the door to the backseat of his truck, allowing him to place you softly inside before Liv climbed in next to you, placing your head on her lap.
The ride was completely silent, barring Liv's directions to the dormitories, but she didn't miss the way he was constantly looking in the rearview mirror at you.
It didn't take long before Liv was leading the way to your dorm, Rafe trailing slowly behind with you in his arms.
She flicked the light on in your dorm, Rafe quickly knowing which bed was yours from the multiple stuffies and pink blankets. He lifted the covers before placing your head on the pillow once more, knowing Liv was going to get you changed before she slept.
"Thank you, Rafe, for looking out for her when I didn't" Liv said as Rafe walked to your door, nodding curtly in repose to her statement.
He gave you one last look before he walked out of your door, watching as Liv was about to shut the door on him after saying goodbye. Panicked he placed his foot in front of the door before it shut, forcing it open.
"C-can I get her number, please?"
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galaxies-can-collide · 2 years ago
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Rafe or JJ
I am writing a piece where you are the new girl in OBX and fall for both JJ and Rafe, who would you pick in the end? Also is this something you guys would want to read?
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drewsephrry · 1 month ago
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four
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The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.
It had been a long month.
Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.
Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.
You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing
You weren’t stupid.
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.
"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.
You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.
You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.
“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.
What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.
“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.
“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”
You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.
“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
And then you heard hers. No fucking way.
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
She was there, with him.
You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.
There they were.
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
You froze.
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?
Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.
It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.
That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.
What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.
But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.
Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"
You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”
He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”
You hated saying her name.
Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.
Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.
“Did everyone fucking know?”
Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”
Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.
You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”
He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”
But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”
That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.
He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.
The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?
Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?
All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."
You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.
But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.
And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.
“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?
But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.
Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.
You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.
Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."
The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.
But then…
You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.
Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.
You hadn’t had your period in… so long.
Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.
You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."
How could you not have noticed?
Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"
You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.
You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.
“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.
He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.
Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.
"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.
You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”
He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.
You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."
The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.
Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.
You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.
Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.
You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.
“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.
You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”
“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”
Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.
You just needed to get out of here.
“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.
And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.
Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.
While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.
You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.
The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.
You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.
The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?
You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.
You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.
You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.
You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.
Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?
Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?
It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.
You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.
The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.
Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.
Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.
This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.
You were tired.
Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.
Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.
Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.
Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.
All of this would go away.
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