rai 2.0

you’re nearly beside yourself with neediness when the clock strikes 6 and he’s still not home. you huff and writhe on the couch, sick of the pulse between your legs being unattended. you don’t know why it’s so bad this time around, maybe because usually when you’re ovulating rafe is there to take care of you. you don’t know that he’s tracking your cycle, always knowing when you’re the neediest. but he’d forgotten to check the past few days, so caught up with work.

so there you are, in one of his shirts and only your panties, embarrassingly wet from just thinking about your boyfriend. you know your imagination won’t do it though and if you thought too much about him you’d just get angry again. you pull out your phone, idly swiping through twitter, finger hovering over your bookmarks. it would be easy to dip your fingers under the band of your panties and deal with the burning in your core. so easy that you can’t even stop yourself when a video plays on your screen and your fingertips slide past the elastic.

the video reminds you of rafe because of course why else would you watch it. it’s a guy holding his girl’s legs open, slurping obscenely and eating her out like a fiend, unrelenting even after she squirts in his face. the sounds fill the room and you huff a breath as your fingers pick up their pace, entranced by the noises and how you could almost feel rafe doing the same to you. you’re so engrossed that you don’t hear the garage door open, don’t hear your boyfriend walk up to the living room. in your defense you were playing the video loudly.

rafe almost panics at the sound, the insecure and slightly insane part of him ready to knock whoever the fuck is doing that to you out. but then he realizes it’s a video, you’re not even making a sound. he walks as quietly as he can to the source, seeing the top of your head over the couch and he watches your arm move, thrust. he shouldn’t be angry he knows it’s ridiculous to be jealous over your own hand but he is. he’s also getting hard so fast he’s nearly dizzy from how all his blood rushes south. he knows if he sees you he won’t be able to hold back so he makes his presence known.

you’re on the precipice of your orgasm when you hear someone clearing their throat and you instantly lock your phone shut. hand slipping out of your underwear as you prepare to be humiliated. he rounds the couch and plops down next to you, a smirk curling his lips as he watches your pretty eyes widen and your plush thighs close. you’re nearly shaking from arousal but you still hold back because of him.

“no by all means baby keep going.” his arm rests on the back of the couch, leaning into you. he smells just as good if not better than before, his sweat and skin mixing in with his cologne, it’s an addictive scent that you know only you find intoxicating. you’re still so wet and he’s not helping.

“rafe-“ your voice comes out small, almost a whimper. you sound so desperate he feels bad, clearly he hadn’t tended to you properly.

“or how about, you tell me about it?” his arm comes down on your side easily, pulling you onto his lap. you whine at the small friction of his pants against your clothed cunt.

“i needed you all day,” you whine at him, the feeling of your release fleeting is making your eyes sting and you pout at him. rafe’s hands slide against your skin, disregarding the shirt and kneading at your waist. the tips of his fingers graze your waistband and you’re not above begging for him to dip under.

“what were you watching baby?” you whine at his question, realizing he won’t give in until you talk.

“rafe please-“ your hips grind down, his hands keep you still, firm and bruising.

“come on you wanted to be a whore, you can answer.” he slaps your clit, not quite touching you but reminding you that you’re still his.

“he was eating her out, ‘reminded me of you.” you murmur and he smiles behind you, stocky and long fingers pushing your panties to the side as his hand glided over your messy cunt.

“good girl.” you huffed at his words, trying to grind yourself against his hand. “nearly dripping onto me, you miss me that bad?” you’re so wet rafe thinks you must have been needy for hours. he’s only felt this after marathon sex and even then it’s from his mouth. he can feel your clit throbbing and your folds are puffy from inattention.

“y-yes.” you nod against him, moaning when his fingers slide into you. you’re so sensitive from being worked up all day the cold press of his ring makes you shake against him. it’s a delicious contrast to the heat you feel melting your brain. rafe’s fingers and hands are one of your favorite parts of him, they’re long and thick and somehow always know where to touch you best.

“poor baby, just needed someone to touch this drooling cunt huh? can’t go a day without my dick hmm?” you can’t respond when he starts fingering you, you think you won’t even be heard because your cunt is obscenely loud. squelches fill the room as he thrusts into you, your slick connecting his hand to your cunt like a string. he can already feel a wet patch on his pants under you and he swears under his breath at how wet you are. you’re so tight around his fingers, clenching like you don’t want them to ever leave. he curls them upwards and you shriek, grabbing his arm with both of your hands. “fucking brat, take it.” your grip does nothing to slow him down, hammering at your most sensitive spot and your brain shuts off. the sparks of pleasure fry your nerve endings and your eyes roll back into your head, rafe adds a third finger stretching you open and his thumb swirls around your clit. combined with the drag of his fingertips against your g-spot you’re crumbling within seconds. “there it is, come on baby, you’re doing so well” his gruff voice coaxes you into submission. the pressure building and building until you’re screaming and thrashing in his arms. your orgasm wrecks you and the dam breaks. you’re squirting into the air in front of you and rafe isn’t slowing down, pulling everything he can out of you. you’ve already drenched him what’s the point in holding back now?

being more than friends with rafe while at tannyhill proves extremely difficult. you’re both not great at hiding it and ward very pointedly says that you’re not allowed to visit each other’s rooms. so naturally you have to get creative, rafe “drops you” to school most days, you “hang out” at the country club. being that you had two decades of pent-up frustration to make up for you capitalize on any private moment. and really even though he’s put you in this situation you’re thankful ward has tinted windows on all his cars even if you thought it was shady before. 

the first time rafe dropped you to school he had his hand on your thigh, squeezing and rubbing at the plush of it. warm palm easily encompassing it and large fingers absentmindedly caressing. he’d done it without much thought, you’d been holding hands and his hand just rested against your thigh so easily. its such a simple thing but your entire world flips on its axis. you’re thrown head first into your desire before you even know it. you had worn jeans that day but even still you swore your skin had lit on fire. there was absolutely no hope for attending class when he pulled into the parking lot to reach into the backseat for his rain jacket before handing it to you. you hadn’t even processed the words, “it’s gonna rain later,” before you leaned over the console and kissed him. rafe made a small noise of surprise, a hum from the back of his throat, that sounded so deep and sweet you couldn’t help but want more. his hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. the angle was too awkward for how close you wanted to be. you’d already done the estimation in your head before when he parked, there was enough space. rafe made that noise that you were getting addicted to as you straddled his lap and sat down. the weight of you on his lap was nothing short of euphoric, his hands instantly roaming your hips pulling you closer by your ass, this time it was your turn to be surprised. you’d been a bit worried you were too heavy for him but the way rafe’s lips were curling into a smile assuage any doubts. his thighs are so muscular under your own and you wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin. your hands found his face and angled it down towards you, smiling at how pliant he was in your hold. rafe was sure he’d get hard if you moved even an inch and as much as he wanted nothing more than to move this to the backseat he still had enough rationality to know your first time shouldn’t be in a car.

your lips are on his before he can think too hard, his hands massage the fat of your ass, pulling you as close as possible. you’re right over his bulge and if you keep it up it’ll be impossible for either of you to ignore. but there’s no way you’re stopping not when even coffee breath is sexy to you. you’re biting at his lips hungry and rafe can’t help but give in, swirling his tongue with yours. the press of your tits against his chest isn’t helping his increasingly hard situation. he has to stop this before he loses his mind.

“don’t you have class?” he says it between kisses, you’re relentless. 

“don’t care, i’ll make the next one.” you pepper his face with kisses. rafe shudders as you flick his ear, kissing him sweetly. you can feel him hard between your legs, thick and solid and definitely bigger than anyone you’ve had before. you know it’s mean but it feels like payback for how turned on you’d been the whole car ride. although it would’ve felt great youre begrudgingly glad you didn’t wear a skirt, how embarrassing it would’ve been if he could feel how wet you were. 

“fuck can’t have our first in a car,” he mumbles and you shift your hips infinitesimally, he holds them still, giving you a look of warning. it only makes you want to act out more. 

“i don’t mind,” you look him dead in the eyes as you say it and rafe might just come in his pants from that alone. how would he survive you? 

“don’t say that shit baby,” he throws his head back against the car seat, his voice rough like it physically hurts him to hold back. and it does, he’s never been so hard from so little. your body hums at the pet name, you want to listen to him because of it, you’re like putty in his hands even if you’re the one who initiated this.

“okay okay we won’t,” you don’t make any move to move off him though, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“okay just-you know what let me close my eyes,” he’s trying to will his boner away, in fact he’s trying to not come in his pants from any slight movements from you. something about him being in so much agony because of you isn’t really making you want to stop. you press kisses to his jawline and neck, to his pulse point. his cologne mixes with his body heat and you want to shove your nose into the column of his neck.

“rafe you smell really good.” you’re practically purring it into his ear, pressing a kiss to the skin. 

“oh god shut the fuck up.” there’s no hope, he’ll just have to be blue balled for the rest of the day. his eyes snap open as he pulls you back by the back of your neck and you grin victoriously into the kiss. 

and then there’s the country club. thank god for those extra changing rooms otherwise you would have traumatized a lot of parents. you snuck away from topper and kelce to fool around and rafe had you shoved against a wall, out of sight from everyone, hands roaming as you did the same. it was a shame you couldn’t get his shirt off because you really couldn’t stand seeing the outline of his pecs and biceps through fabric. rafe pulled back for air, huffing into your shoulder as you did the same into his chest. he was curled around you, if anyone saw you two they wouldn’t even be able to see you. his thigh was wedged between yours, dangerously close to making contact with your core. if he did you couldn’t trust yourself to grind against him. it was safe to say the restrictions around you weren’t helping your infinitely growing desire. 

it feels like it’s been ten years-it’s been four days-when you finally get the call that your place is fully repaired. rafe was out with ward when you heard so you hightailed it back home, taking as much as you could from tannyhill in your rush. you and rafe had made dinner plans and he agreed to bring whatever you had at tannyhill over when he picked you anyways. being home was nice even if it felt a little empty without rafe or the cameron’s. you hoped now that you weren’t under ward’s watchful eye rafe could stay over more. you were missing a couch and some other fabric chairs after the flooding but your rooms upstairs were untouched. you clean up and air out your space, lighting some candles. the smell of wood and repairs eventually fades and it feels normal again. you even bake some cookies so your kitchen doesn’t feel so barren. by the time it’s evening you’re rushing to get ready. you knew what you were gonna wear, you had it all planned out as soon as rafe asked you out. a baby blue satin slip dress that cinched at the waist and was low cut enough to show off your curves. you looked and felt damn good in it. you put your hair up and did your makeup to withstand whatever the night brought on. you spray on rafe’s favorite perfume and are putting on your pearl earrings when the doorbell rings. you answer it with one hand and do an obvious once-over of your man. rafe looks perfect, as usual, white dress shirt with slacks and a bouquet of flowers that look fake from how pretty they are. 

“hey handsome.” rafe cannot believe he got so lucky. he knows you’re beautiful, you’re always beautiful, but the sight of you so dolled up just for him has his head spinning. he enters your space, but he doesn’t even notice anything around him because all he can see is you. you finish putting on your earring and hug him. 

“hey you look amazing” his hands find home in the curve of your waist, pulling you closer. 

“thanks, i just need to grab my purse-“ you’re about to move to leave but rafe makes a noise that is somewhere between a grumble and a whine. you don’t move, instead looping your hands around his neck and letting him relax into your arms. he noses along your neck, you smell good enough to eat.

“how hungry are you?” he murmurs it into your neck, kissing the spot under your ear. 

“not that hungry, by the time we get the food and everything i think i will be though,” you replied thoughtfully, he 

“im fucking starving.” he presses a kiss to your neck, the skin is so soft and unmarked and it’s irresistible. his whole body refuses to let go of you, it's like the air around you is thicker, he can’t seem to move away. he’d dreamed about how you taste and he knows your lips and your breath but he wants more. he wants to taste more. 

“i can make you something real quick.” you’re still not catching on to how you have affected him with one look alone.

“nah not for that.” a nip of teeth along your jugular make you suddenly all aware. 

“oh-we could always move the reservation,” you’re so cute, rafe thinks, always so eager to please and he can’t help but wonder how much it extends. 

“or order in.” his nips turn into bites, kissing over them and you crane your neck for him to have better access. your legs are starting to feel weak from how intentional he’s being with every touch and word. they’re all coalescing into a fire in your core, you’re not wearing underwear so you’re really testing the limits. 

“or order hah i-in.” he doesn’t think he can handle another second without having you, it’s been hard to hold back the past week and it’s impossible now that he knows there’s no real obstacle. you can scream his name and no one can stop you and the thought makes him clutch you a bit tighter. 

“where’s your room baby?” he pulls back to look at you and you blink at him slowly before intertwining the fingers around your waist with your own and leading him up stairs. he follows your lead, enjoying the view of you going up in front of him. you hadn’t given him a choice when you put on this dress he realized. 

your room is far cozier and colorful than his, trinkets and memories on every wall and he sees himself in a few pictures and keepsakes. there’s no hiding your personality and he loves it automatically. he remembered your childhood bedroom was so devoid of anything you actually liked because your parents didn’t like it. you watch rafe take it all in, he looks so much bigger in the space than you feel but he somehow still fits in. you’d been itching to tell him about your room and have him in your space and there’s one thing still bothering you.

“i got a place with a guest bedroom cause of you.” it blurts out and you regret it as soon as you say it. rafe’s head snaps towards you in shock.

“what?” you may have completely ruined the mood. you hurry to explain. 

“i know it’s kind of stupid, i didn’t even know if you cared about me back then but still i don’t know i just always thought we’d-“ rafe thinks he might start crying. you tend to make him feel like that, emotional. maybe it’s because he’s never cared about anyone like he’s cared about you. the jarring realization that you care about him just as much for just as much time has his heart soaring out of his chest and he can’t hold back any more. the words will rip their way out of him anyways.

“i love you.” his voice comes out low like a whisper, like a promise. your mind blanks for a split second before it all snaps into place. it’s as natural as breathing when you open your mouth.

“i love you rafe.” rafe crosses the space to kiss you, sweet and gentle and it solidifies any room for doubt in either of you. the kiss naturally progresses into something needier and rafe’s hand slips down your face to your neck before slipping a strap of your dress down your shoulder. you gasp into his mouth before pulling back and unbuttoning his shirt. you had to even the playing field. 

rafe is trying not pass out from the sight of you desperately undressing him and pushes you back by your hips until you fall back on the bed. he takes over the rest throwing his shirt to the side. your eyes hungrily roam his chest, the low light of your lamp is enough to solidify that rafe is way too hot to wear a shirt ever again. you sit up to slide your hands along the divers of his abs, tracing the lines before smoothing over his pecs and pulling him down towards you by his neck. rafe shudders at your touch, wedging himself between your legs. your dress is nearly off you with one more touch of his hands and you pull back. he’s being far too hesitant.

“you don't think…” your eyes narrow in a silent question, one that he picks up easily.

“i dont know.” and you nod your head, that explains it.

“i’m not, are you?” you can’t gauge if he’s disappointed or not. 

“nah and i don’t care by the way, i might not be your first but i'm definitely gonna be your last,” your head spins at the statement. he pushes the skirt of your dress up, you panic a bit because you’re completely bare under it, he feels you stiffen and stops. 

“i’m just a bit scared.” you whisper it into the air and maybe scared wasn’t the right word but you’re suddenly very aware of every inch of your skin and how rafe looks like an angel sent from the heavens.

“we don’t have to-“

“no i want to i just-you probably have super high expectations.” rafe’s eyes narrow at your words, he can’t believe that you’re simultaneously the smartest and dumbest person he knows.

“i love you every part of you, you could never disappoint me by being you.” rafe doesn’t want to pressure you into anything but he needs you to know that.

“okay.” you unzip the side of your dress, making it easier for him to pull off and he kisses your forehead. your eyelashes fluttering from the sweet affection.

“that being said, i might come just from seeing you naked.” and there’s goes that cute moment.

“real fucking romantic.” you shove against his shoulder and he laughs, you silently thank him for loosening you up.

“what can i say my girl’s really fucking hot.” your stomach flutters at his words and the dopey grin he’s wearing. you need him so badly you don’t care about your insecurities any more. 

“as long as you can get it up again we won’t have a problem champ.” you tease him back after a moment of ingesting his words. 

“yes ma’am.” everything he says is getting you hot and bothered and finally he takes off your dress. his eyes don’t even know where to look because every part of you is perfect. your stretch marks, your tummy, your breasts, oh and oh god rafe was joking but now he might actually come. your pussy is bare and although he can’t see it properly it’s so cute. his heart is already racing so fast and it’s somehow picking up speed. his head feels a bit faint as all his blood rushes south—“fuck i think i might die.” he whispers it so seriously you can’t help but laugh, he hasn’t looked you in the eyes since you took your dress off and the way he looks like a man starved has you squirming under him.

“shut up-“ you don’t know if you can handle him staring without so much as blinking much less touching you.

“no you’re-what the fuck.” it’s all he says before kisses you and loops your legs around his waist. you feel his bulge against your bare cunt and if he wasn’t wearing black you knew you’d see a remnant of you there. in fact if he doesn’t do something you’re gonna start dripping onto your sheets.

“rafe-need you” your words come out broken as he barely lets you pull away for air. kissing and grinding aren’t cutting it any more and the heavy thick weight of him between your legs is nearly torture. the words are like a zap of electricity to his brain and he unbuckles his pants and has them off in seconds, only in his boxers now. the way you whined his name is replaying over and over in his head and he just can’t get enough. he’s back in his spot and trailing kisses down your neck and then your breasts. one of his hands pinches a nipple while the other dips between your legs. you buck into him from the sudden stimulation—lips attach to your nipple sucking and biting at it, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. he’s sloppy with it, drooling all over you with zero worry for the marks he’s leaving. his hand between your legs teases the soft skin of your inner thighs, never quite where you need him. the presence feels like the lump in your throat, unyielding and attention-seeking. you whine his name again and he actually thinks you might have found a way to mind control him. his thick fingers ghost your folds, finding them absolutely drooling. they’re so puffy and messy he almost coos at how desperate you must feel.

“you’re so wet, baby.” his mouth is back on your neck, groaning the words into your ear. his tone is gravelly and rough, still sweetened by his love for you and you writhe for him to touch you properly. he actually laughs-the fucker-at your response before his ringed index finger presses into your opening. you’re nearly dripping into the palm of his hand and when the cold metal of his ring catches on your entrance you huff out in shock.

his finger is so much larger than yours and it’s starting to scratch the itch you feel but it’s not enough and rafe knows it, he adds his middle finger and this time it’s a stretch—your poor pussy is hugging him so tightly he thinks you’ve never been fucked properly before, his fingers curl into you and feel around for the fleshy spot he knows will make you cry. he knows he’s found it when you clench around him, gooey walls closing in on his fingers. “that’s it, sweet girl” and while rafe knows he should stretch you out more he can’t help himself. he’s been hungry, starving, for days, for years. your eyelashes flutter open as his fingers are pulled out, he wants to lick them clean but why not try straight from the source. you don’t even register what’s happening before rafe is putting the backs of your thighs against his shoulders and squeezing between the plush of them. 

“oh!” it hits you when his tongue swipes up the length of your pussy. rafe moans at the taste, heady and sweet, it’s so good he thinks if he wasn’t in love now your juices might be a love potion. one taste is enough for him to pull your thighs down, shoving himself into your cunt and you moan at the force. his tongue is everywhere, swirling between the mess you’ve made on your legs and your folds, flicking against your clit and delving into you teasingly. he presses a finger into you as he sucks on your clit, biting at it and sending your mind into black and white for a second. then he’s delving into you and pulling anything he can out of you, finger hammering into you and his tongue swirling instead slowly in a mind-numbing contrast.

“so sweet,” you hear him moan into you, his dreams didn’t hold a candle to your actual taste. you’re bucking and writhing into his mouth but his hold on you is firm, he doesn’t care if your thighs squish his head either because he’s too drunk off you to care. you can feel yourself getting close as he curls his finger inside against your g-spot your poor pussy quivering at the action and before you can hold back any more your hold snaps, you’re cumming into his mouth before you can help it crying out his name like a plea. it’s violent and overwhelming and your hips are bucking into violently but rafe needs to drink you up, he needs to taste you when you come. the way you milk his tongue has him desperate to feel you around him. you sound so wrecked saying his name and he wants to pull it out of you again, wants to look you in the eyes when you say it. when he’s sure you can’t give him any more he releases his hold on you and pulls away. the lower half of his face is glistening and you’re almost ashamed but you can’t help but admire how depraved the sight is. you want to thank whoever made him so good at eating pussy because you’re never letting him go now. rafe looks positively fucked out and you can’t imagine you’re any better. you tug him in for a kiss tasting yourself on his lips. you still feel desperate for more, you need his cock and you don’t care if you have to beg. 

“rafe if you don’t fuck me so help me-”

“relax princess, i told you i was hungry.” he says it without any shame and you actually can’t hold his eye contact. you’d only ever imagined him talking to you like this and the reality is so much harder to handle. he pulls his boxers off and then intertwines a hand with yours, pressing it next to your head. you can’t help yourself when you look down, being met with what is undoubtedly the biggest dick you’d ever seen. it’s unfair how pretty it is. long and thick with a vein running down the middle and cropped brown hair at the base. there’s white precum dribbling out of the mushroom head and you’re equally intimidated and turned on. you let out a shaky exhale and the monster cock twitches at your attention, “fuck don’t stare like that-“ rafe groans at the way your eyes widened at the sight of him. you’re not even trying to hide your reactions. despite how you feel you, you’re childishly putting on a brave front.

“why not? it’s mine isn’t it?” yeah rafe is gonna die. he just groans again before shoving your legs up and out until they’re framing his hips. it is yours of course it’s yours, he’d let you do anything you want to him. your bravado is once again swept away when his tip is gliding against your entrance, far wider than anything you’d ever expect. you’re not even sure if it’ll fit. you nod at him to move and he pushes into you, a gasp leaving your lips. the stretch burns and it’s unlike any pain you’ve had before. this is tinged by pleasure and you try to relax but you’re still a bit worried about all the inches and girth past the tip.

“so tight i-“ rafe is addicted sure he’s always been in love and it’s always been a bit too intense for anyone to understand but the way you feel around him, warm and snug, has him going fully insane. no way he’s letting you go.

“t-too big.” you shudder under him, rafe can’t look down because if he sees it he knows he won’t be able to survive it. in fact he’s so close that if he doesn’t focus his absolute best he might just come.

“can’t talk like that i’m actually gonna-“ and he does in fact come. he comes just from putting the tip in. thick gooey ropes pump into you and the added lubrication makes it easier for him to slip in a bit, the urge to plug you full is impossible to ignore. there’s something pathetic about him coming just from this and it’s so inexplicably sweet that you’re moaning his name. “don’t say anything.” rafe is trying to damage control. you can feel him still hard inside you and his come is already slipping out of you, what a shame you think.

“come on big boy who said anything about stopping.” the nickname makes his dick twitch inside you and a sick smirk curls his lips. you’re just as far gone as him. he eases into you and the stretch is unimaginable. you’re unbelieving that anyone can even reach that far, you feel like you’re being molded to him, even the vein along his length is a dent inside you. when you think he’s done, you can feel him in the back of your throat and he’s nestled against your cervix, you realize he hasn’t even bottomed out. “it doesn’t fit.” you sound as heartbroken as rafe feels. he pulls out and pushes back in experimentally, still being stopped at the same spot. the thrust is enough for you to see stars, the feeling of being eased in replaced by the full hammering thickness and length of him at once. 

“pussy’s too small for me—fuckkk that’s okay i’ll make it fit hmm?” rafe is mindlessly murmuring to himself, he pulls your hips up, wedging a pillow under them for a different angle, this time he gets further and finally his balls press against you. you’re shaking from the stretch and he has to clench his jaw to not move again. when you’re not clenching down like a vice he finally moves again, slowly easing in and out, halfway down his length. he refuses to pull out all the way, he thinks he’ll have an aneurysm if he isn’t inside you all the time. “so perfect s’like you’re made for me, fuck i love you so much.” it’s much more manageable and the slow drag of him inside you has you getting worked up again. rafe is close too but he has been for a while—actually right after coming.

you pull him down for a kiss, the angle of him leaning down presses him further into you and you gasp into his mouth. “i love you rafey, you feel so good.” he’s pressing against your most sensitive spot and rafe thinks this might be his favorite position, kissing you and fucking you deep and slow. he can feel your heartbeat against his and your hair that was up before started to slip out more and more he curls a strand around his finger. when it becomes too much you’re panting into each other’s mouths, desperate to catch you breath but not enough to stop. you’re drenching him in your sweet juices and they mix with his come to form a circle at the base of him.

“come on baby, pretty girl, you’re doing so well.”  a few more torturous drags of his tip against your g-spot has your walls fluttering and clenching on him, he comes inside again and you can’t believe he’s still hard. you’re not tired though yet and you start to think rafe might actually go all night. you shove against his shoulder and he pulls out but then you shove again and get him onto his back. his eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re doing, you straddle him and wince a bit as his come spurts out of you. your clit bumps against his toned stomach and the sick mess of your juices paints his skin white. rafe watches it happen, it’s undeniably obscene but he’s gonna think about it for the rest of his life. he props a pillow under him as you move down until his length is nudging against your hole. being on top has its perks but the sensation of him filling you is even more overwhelming that before.

“fuckkk.” he shuts his eyes at the sensation, even now you’re still tight as you lower down onto him. without the pain you can feel how he fills you, vein catching on your entrance and his tip still has to shove its way. you take your time, eventually bottoming out. you grind your hips against him, the new angle makes him feel even deeper and you’re both panting from the stimulation.

“this is where you are rafey.” you take his hand and press it to where you feel him. he blinks rapidly, moaning at the words, his fingers push at the spot on your stomach, amazed by how far up he is. he really should be careful with you, his poor little baby was getting skewered by him. but then you’re the one teasing him—brat

“you tryna kill me?” rafe’s other hand spanks your ass and you jolt at the feeling, you don’t let it show that you like it but rafe can feel you clench, can feel how you get wetter. oh he can’t wait to test your limits. you start bouncing on him slowly, moving your hips at the pace that’s comfortable. eventually though your knees feel shaky and you lean down into him, your weight fully against his chest. rafe presses a sweet kiss to your cheek before hammering up into you. it’s a far more brutal pace than before, slamming his hips up into you and it’s nearly launching you off the bed. you scream his name and rafe can’t stop pulling the sound from you. your cunt feels like it might be bruised from his pace but the coil in your stomach is building regardless.

the bed shakes from his thrusts as the room is filled with rapid rhythm of plap plap plap and the pornographic moans from both of you. rafe can’t stop praising you and you can only repeat his name. the pressure is too much for your poor pussy building and building with no end in sight. one particular thrust that he pulls you down to meet by your hips snaps the band inside you, the dam breaking all at once— you’re splashing his hips and stomach with squirt and he fucks your through it, pulling as much out as he can. if rafe’s chest wasn’t a mess before he’s actually dripping come onto your sheets now. you’re clenching him so tight and the added lubrication feels like he might just be shoved out of you. he fucks into you until he can’t any more; until he pulls one more orgasm from you and can finally plug you full. rafe thinks that your timeline is so fucked up that getting you pregnant wouldn’t even be that bad, he wants that with you so why not start now? at least you should practice every night. you’re completely worn out on his chest, panting and clutching onto him as you regain strength. rafe even now loops his arms around you and holds you close.

“you’re never using that guest bedroom.” you say it in a croak, you may have lost your voice from screaming his name. rafe laughs and he can’t agree more.

“i was never planning on it.” he kisses your forehead adoringly, like he didn’t just rearrange your vital organs and gently lays you down beside him. you’re so grateful that you were able to come to obx and that in the end your best friend forgave you. because now you truly had him forever. what came next you’d face together.

a/n: it’s over :,( but i really enjoyed posting this it’s been in my drafts for a while <3 i’ll pry go back and edit this since i didn’t check much for mistakes my first run-through, also pry post a fluffy short epilogue!!

you lean against his doorframe, his eyes already on you, as you say, “you’re gonna make me say it first aren’t you?”

“yeah i am.” rafe throws his phone to the side, bouncing off the bed slightly. he doesn’t care, he’s walking towards you. there’s no subtlety in his gaze, he’s drinking in the way you look in his clothes and you almost shiver at the unabashed staring. he lightly pushes the door shut, not that you even notice, your feet move towards him without much thought, his pull is hard to ignore much longer.

“fine, i like you rafe and not as a friend.” you’re nearly chest to chest when you say it, a grin is splitting your face and he doesn’t even know if he can stop smiling in your presence.

“fucking finally.” you hear it half a second before you’re tugged into him fully and his lips are on yours. there’s no doubt in your mind that rafe is the best kisser in the world and rafe thinks he might just die happy at the feeling of your soft lips against his. there’s a small large part of you that thinks he might just be made for you. even the way his tongue tentatively glides over your bottom lip is mind-shattering. you’re moving without much thought because if you think about it too much you might just melt into a puddle. there’s no fireworks like in the movies instead there’s an innate sense that this was almost what was going to happen. you were both fated for this. rafe can’t believe you taste so good, that you’re so pliant and sweet in his hold, even the cute little sounds you make, it’s a million times better than his imagination and those expectations were already through the roof. his heart is beating out of his chest, so rapidly he thinks he should just give it up to you. you pull back to breathe, a small whine of disappointment crawling up his throat, and his hands cup your face, gently framing your cheeks as you look up at him. there’s a salacious string of saliva connecting your lips before it snaps off, rafe mourns it a little. you decide rafe looks the best after he’s kissed you, flushed and breathing heavy with a smile on his swollen lips. your hands find the back of his neck, pulling him back down, this time he’ll let himself taste you properly.

you take your time figuring each other out, kissing until you need to catch your breath and eventually cuddling on his bed. you’re laying quite literally on top of him with your head propped up on his chest so you can take a good look at him. you both abandoned your perception of time until you both got hungry. begrudgingly he tears his eyes away from you and checks the time on his phone, it’s nearly 3pm.

when you both leave you’re unfortunately face to face with sarah in the kitchen who takes one look at your matching swollen lips. and then how his clothes are hanging off you and very astutely says “finally.” she pats rafe on the back in a silent congratulations. all you can do is laugh while rafe rolls his eyes.

“how long did sarah know?” rafe blushes and ignores your gaze, pointedly opening the fridge to look for food

“forever kinda.” he murmurs it and you don’t know if it’s possible but your cheeks might be sore from smiling tomorrow. he grabs the leftover chinese food from yesterday, popping it in the microwave for you both.

“forever?” he hears the excitement in your voice and he knows there’s no point in hiding it now. you felt the same or at least a little bit the same. as much as he recognizes how special kitchens have become for you two, he’d rather not have this particular conversation there. so he ignores you until you’re both back in his room and eating.

“seeing you back made me realize i still hadn’t gotten over you, i hated myself for it, and i knew you didn’t feel the same which only made me angrier. i was the idiot who couldn’t move on.” you blink away his self flagellation, he really had to stop doing that.

“you didn’t know anything then and you still don’t.” you kiss him again. rafe hums at the feeling, warmth spreading this whole body from the small press of your lips to his. you want to tell him everything but your emotions are all over the place, you need to figure them out yourself before you start talking.

“why’d we waste so much time?” rafe pulls you close after you’ve finished eating, you settle against him your back pressed against his chest. in his own way he’s confirming that you’ve felt the same for forever. you have.

“hmm i don’t know i kinda think if it wasn’t now it might not have worked. it would’ve been a disaster in middle school.” there’s no way you would have survived the distance and that fact may have ended your friendship.

“yeah fuck you’re right about that.” he presses a kiss to your head, the smell of your passion fruit shampoo makes him feel giddy. you’ve turned him into a sap in the span of hours. he dreads the moment you’ll have to leave his arms even if it’s hours away, even if it’s just to sleep.

“did you recognize me when you came back?” rafe asked, he’d seen you over the years, sarah showing him pictures that he desperately tried to forget. you kept getting more and more beautiful and he wasn’t there. you turned in his hold, his grip around your waist loosening as you faced him.

“of course, i’d know your face with my eyes closed.” a small finger traced the lines of his eyebrows, his lashes, the curve of his nose. you thought each piece of him was beautiful you felt so grateful for every line, every freckle, every single inch of his face. of him. rafe’s eyes fluttered closed at the gentle brush of your fingers, no one had ever touched him like this.

“i don’t know i thought maybe the hair-“ his voice came out hoarse, the lump in his throat from your adoring gaze was hard to ignore. his eyes met yours, your favorite part of him. your smile widened even more.

“i mean i never thought you’d look so hot with a buzzcut but yeah i knew it was you.” rafe groaned at your words, still adjusting to the way you could render him speechless with a few words. had you always been so flirty? he didn’t care as long as he was the only one on the receiving end. you giggled at his reaction, pleased that you could get him flustered. there was such a pretty pink flush to the tips of his ears.

“you didn’t seem phased.” rafe supposed you were too preoccupied with how mean he was to you then, you had barely reacted to his presence beyond the initial shock.

“im very skilled at talking to you rafe cameron, even now.” he loved how you said his name, the way there’s so much affection even in how you tease him. he wants this day to last forever.

“yeah you are, you’re the only one who knows me,” his arms tighten around you, as if he’s subconsciously trying to keep you closer. you’d never leave him again.

“that’s a shame, you know, you’re my favorite person in the world, other people should see how great you are.” he feels almost lightheaded from you words, you’d echoed the sentiment before. favorite person in the world. that would stick with him. he wouldn’t want for any other title in his entire life.

“they’d never believe you.” he prods your cheek with his finger.

“i managed to convince you, didn't i?”

“a little,” you’re wearing matching smiles, dopey and blissful.

“maybe it’s a good thing though… if more pretty blondes catch on i might just have to keep you to myself.” rafe decides he should make you jealous more often. that might be one of his favorite sides of you.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.” it’s like he knows the perfect set of words to fluster you.

“how come no guys approach me though?” there’s a fake pout to your lips and rafe rolls his eyes.

“do you really have to ask?” there’s a glint of something dark in his eyes, you feel silly for even wondering. since you’d been friends again it had gotten even worse, topper even hesitated to hug you.

“oh right! well your scary guard dog thing doesn’t work at school.” he huffs a laugh at how you phrase his almost unhealthy protectiveness before catching onto your last few words.

“you really shouldn’t have told me that baby.” his hand slides up and down the length of your thigh, resting on your hip and pulling you closer. your skin’s so soft and his fingers probe the plush of your thighs, unbelieving that he can do this freely. he’d only dreamt of it before. there’s a trail of heat when he touches, it’s a miracle you don’t shudder against him.

“oh fuck” you realize far too late the consequences of your words, but his don’t scare you as much as they should. “that’s okay though, i’ve been rejecting everyone since i came. now when i tell them i have a boyfriend it won’t be a lie!”

“boyfriend huh? i don’t remember asking,” your gaze snaps to his and narrows. there’s no malice to his words. he’s smirking down at you like he can’t help but tease you.

“oh please we’ve been practically married since diapers.”

“i wish that were true. boyfriend seems a little too simple for this.” rafe thinks that being married would be too simple for what you two had. there had to be another word for it.

“yeah you’re right, we’re far past that.” soulmates. no, that wasn’t right either, he didn’t like the notion that some other unknown thing brought you two together. he’d fight anything even if it was the universe to be by your side again and again.

“what’s your ring size?” husband and wife will have to do for now. he holds up your hand to compare it to his, it’s far smaller and his ring looks like it would be too big for even your thumb.

“rafe we’re too young! let me graduate first.” you swat his hand away, flustered by how quickly he’s gone past boyfriend, not that you’re really opposed. you know you should be, it should be too soon even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“did you just say yes?” he presses a kiss to your cheek, nudging you with his nose.

“no i said-“

“i’m taking it as a yes” you groan and squirm in his hold, suddenly feeling to hot in your future fiancée’s arms. he lets you go and you move forward to sit on your knees next to him, facing him fully. rafe’s staring at you like you put the sun in the sky, head lolled to the side lazily, with his gaze dripping with affection.

“okay whatever floats your boat bro.” you grumble like a middle schooler, you’re still hot but you think it’s just because rafe is looking at you like that.

“‘bro’, you’re fucking in for it now.” he scoffs at you before pulling you back into him by the hips and tickling you until you apologize

a/n: i don’t think i’ll ever be satisfied with this chapter (i’ve rewritten it twice) but that’s okay i guess T^T next chapter will be a lot longer they have a lot to talk through and a lot of catching up ;)) to do

there was no ignoring your festering affection to rafe cameron when a girl is in his face, very obviously flirting. you’d stepped away for a few moments to greet your college friends when she took your place, well much more than just your place. jealousy flares in you hot and omnipresent and you can’t pretend you don’t recognize it so instead you try to dull it. you drink more than you should and none of the boys at the party look anywhere near attractive compared to him. even at school you had staved off the advances of anyone approaching you because no one seemed to cut it. not when your best friend was becoming your ideal man, he always had been if you were honest. if anyone looked at your ex’s next to him they would’ve realized it before you did. You hated how easy it was for her to make her intentions known, how he seemed to be enjoying the attention, when you couldn't even own up to your own feelings. topper noticed your continued return to the kitchen and eventually cut you off in your warpath.

“hey easy there, ‘can’t have you drinking us all under the table.” you stumbled into him, not really watching your steps and his hands steadied your shoulders, retreating like it burned him, in case rafe saw of course. the thought made your frown grow deeper, even if rafe shared an inkling of your feelings you couldn't make him jealous, you’d been off limits for as long as you or anyone else in figure 8 could remember.

“move topper, i flunked an exam okay?” it was a lame excuse, one that would’ve worked had you not known topper for the majority of your life. you’d never failed an exam, that still hadn’t changed. clearly your excuse didn’t work because rafe found you in the kitchen moments later, you relished slightly in the absence of the girl on his arm.

“hey kid, how much ‘you drink?” it was a nickname from your childhood, that and “baby” which now was also tarnished by your desire. you had constantly reminded him he was only five months older but in elementary school that meant a world of difference. you stopped correcting him, you would never admit it but the nicknames rolling off his tongue in that earth-shattering deep voice of his made your brain a bit foggy. he would never admit that he had long since learned the implications of calling you “baby” in public and it only spurred him on more. standing across the island from him, you took a few seconds to respond, walking yourself down from the jolt of need in your core. at least you could blame your slow reaction on the alcohol.

“i lost count.” rafe made his way around to you, an eyebrow raised at your response. by the looks of it you were already drunk. unfortunately you weren’t drunk enough to black out and ignore the eventuality of him leaving with the pretty blonde, not yet at least.

“let’s stop hmm? i know you’ll be mad at me tomorrow otherwise.” he took the cup from your small hands, fingers grazing against yours and it jolted you. his voice was low and smooth against your senses, lulling you into submission, you were sure you’d do anything he asked if he said it like that. you looked up at him with crossed arms, rafe did his absolute best to ignore how your breasts propped up from the action, but really he couldn’t. you were too drunk to notice. you hoped you weren’t obvious when you looked at how his fingers wrapped around the plastic effortlessly, so much bigger and thicker than yours. he was too distracted to notice.

“it’s fine, go back to blondie.” your words slurred off at the end, you shouldn’t have said that out loud. again you could blame it on the alcohol.

“you jealous?” rafe found himself smiling at the notion, despite the glare you were fixing him with, he couldn’t pretend to be even slightly upset with you drinking yourself into a stupor if it was over him. he was sure that was unhealthy, whatever, you could lecture him later. you were always so good at telling him off, and he’d listen.

“what? no.” your immediate denial gave you away easily and rafe smiled wider, he felt too close all of a sudden and you stepped back, your back hitting a counter. rafe watched you try to make a distance between you two, adorably failing. he scanned your body for any sign that it actually hurt but from the way you were still trying to avoid his eyes he could see you were too preoccupied.

“it’s okay baby, i was jealous when you were hanging with top and kelc without me.” he practically purred the nickname, your hand clenching by your side. rafe wouldn’t tell you that he had purposefully been stringing along ‘blondie’ to make you jealous. your glares weren’t exactly subtle after a certain point. your heartbeat picks up at the pet name, at his honeyed voice lowering just for you. your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close, as close as she had him, maybe even closer.

“okay yeah i am, but it’s not the same.” you huffed out, proud of yourself for sounding coherent. you really should be better at holding your tongue but rafe looked too good today and you burned with jealousy that another girl had been able to ogle him all night. not to mention he was wearing the cologne he knew was your favorite, you’d even said so when he hugged you goodbye before class. the scent alone was making your frown deepen.

“what?” rafe couldn’t believe how transparent you were, he hoped you’d remember this tomorrow or at the very least you’d feel the same tomorrow. there was no way you were being serious though, you were just fucking with him. either way he really hoped he was understanding you right because he couldn’t let this go.

“forget i said that i’m drunk.” you looked away, embarrassed by how little rafe was reciprocating.

“no no, what do you mean?” he stepped closer, an inch away from you, sandwiching you between the counter and his body. you had to look at him, your expression cracking, you couldn’t pretend much longer, your eyebrows pinched and rafe recognized that you might be about to cry.

“rafe please-“ a plea whispered into the space between you two and rafe’s heart skipped a beat. the sound of you so desperately calling his name would haunt him forever but despite his mind fracturing into a million pieces, he still had to know.

“it is the same, it’s the exact fucking same, baby.” he leaned down to your height, his palms flat on the counter on either side of you, blue eyes bore into yours, commanding you to listen. he wasn’t teasing you. he was being sincere and you couldn’t believe it.

“are you sure?” there was barely any space between you two and the way he was looking at you should’ve been your answer but your vision was hazy.

“of course i’m fucking sure, did you think i cut contact with you cause i was tired of you? i did it cause you got a boyfriend.” he looked upset, you almost cupped his face with your hands, your fingers itched to press down the crease forming on his forehead from frowning. he watches the words sink into your pretty little head, how can you be so insanely adorable even now? he didn't plan for them to come out like this, in fact he had rather assumed it would be better if you didn't know the reason but it slipped out before he could stop himself.

“that’s fucking stupid rafe,” you say without any malice, your lip is jutted out in a pout and your eyebrows pinch together, god he wants to kiss you so badly. he’s a bit tipsy but not enough to think your first kiss should be at a party where anywhere can walk in while you’re struggling to stand.

“i know sweetheart, just-let’s do this when you’re sober yeah?” rafe worries you might not even remember this tomorrow.

“yeah…can you take me home?” he knows you mean tannyhill, you’d been staying there ever since your place flooded and he wonders sometimes why you don’t just move in. one time out of sheer curiosity, and maybe the fact that you were passed out on his bed, he looked up how much rent you’d get for your place.

“sure.” you lean into his side, his arm curling protectively around you as he moves you through the party, your eyes flutter closed cause as stupid as it is you trust him to get you out safely. the room spins around you but even if you stumble he holds you upright. you must have fallen asleep at some point cause the next thing you remember is being coaxed out of rafe’s car to get inside. the next twenty minutes or so are a blur as the sequence of shots hit you at once, you remember relaxing into rafe’s bed, the scent of him and his cologne lingering on the sheets and it soothes you enough to sleep.

your headache is the first thing that you feel before you can even open your eyes, you groan as you shoot up and see that you’re for some reason in rafe’s room, with him nowhere to be seen, in his shirt with no pants on. you’re greeted by the framed picture of you two in middle school, pimply and greasy but somehow still adorable.

you pray to god that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much with him as you pull on a pair of sweats you find in his closet. there’s a glass of water and a bottle of pills next to you and you know who left it there for you. you text him asking if he’s awake, you can’t wait to see him, can’t wait to confirm if you dreamt your conversation in the kitchen. rafe knocks at his door before entering and you’re still sat up on his bed, he still can't get used to the sight. he’s wearing a plain white shirt and sweats, his chain peeking under the collar and you think he might be the hottest man alive. he sits down across you on his desk chair swiveling it to face you, adjusting his hips as he does it. you might just pass out.

“i didn’t do anything too embarrassing right?” you ask while trying to ignore how good he looks. rafe looks up at you with a grimace and you groan.

“you really wanna know?” he asks with a glimmer in his eyes and you massage your temples in anticipation for the oncoming headache.

“oh god…kill me now.” rafe laughs at your expression, your eyes are closed and he can’t help but appreciate how you drown in his clothes. that coupled with you sleeping in his bed makes his hands itch to take a picture. he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be this fortunate again.

“i’m messing with you, you were pretty sweet actually, makes me kinda miss it now.” your pretty eyes snap open to meet his and you grown at the vague comment. sweet could mean a lot of things and most of them would be embarrassing.

“fuck off, you gotta give me more than that rafey, im going crazy.”

“how much do you remember?” he’s giving you an out, one that you won’t take. rafe holds his breath, there’s no going back from your answer.

“i remember getting out of the car after we left the party and then it’s kinda fuzzy.” he breathes out in relief, nodding at your words and blushing at the realization that you were actually owning up to the conversation. he can’t meet your eyes for a few seconds as he responds.

“okay so you insisted on sleeping in my room, you actually kicked me out.” he said and you winced, forcing his gaze to yours.

“sorry-“ you start but he waves you off.

“something about you always sleep better there, but i made sure you washed your face and stuff before sleeping.” you already feel hot from embarrassment but this can’t be the worst of it, you’d told this to rafe sober.

“i can tell you’re holding back.” rafe should realize that you know him as well as he knows you. you’re too observant for your own good.

“fine okay, you may have been repeatedly telling me i’m pretty.”

“yeah okay so i’ll see you in a week.” he couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. you got off his bed to leave, far too embarrassed to hear the rest, but he caught your wrist from where he sat near the door. he looked good looking up at you, you could get used to the angle.

“hey come on, i didn’t finish, i'm the one who started it for what it’s worth.” the hand around your wrist smoothly drifted to your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. you start to think crazy things like why was he was smooth? how many girls had he-rafe short circuits your brain as he brings your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your ring finger. you like to think it’s an accident for your sanity, it’s not.

“really?” your voice comes out small, nearly a squeak. you hardly notice it because you’re so entranced with his actions, by how small your hand feels and looks in his, how large his fingers are and the cold press of his signet ring against you. all the embarrassment flushed out of your system by a thrumming of need, of adoration, of-

“uh huh you look pretty right now too.” your gaze snaps to his, narrowing at his words, rafe hasn’t stopped smiling since he’s seen you today. how can he? he’s finally getting everything he’s ever wanted. you look so stunned by his words, mouth slightly agape and he’s relishing in the fact that for the first time in your lives he has the upper hand. he lightly tugs you closer by your hands and there’s zero resistance in your steps, you think you might be under a spell. it’s a miracle you can even respond.

“i definitely do not, i'm a hungover hot mess.” you know you look bad, you’re not fishing for compliments. you’re pretty sure you still have mascara smudged under your eyes and your hair is a whole other entity. but rafe doesn’t see any of that, he sees the girl he fell in love.

“nah you’re the prettiest girl i know.” he’s practically grinning up at you and the blue in his eyes is just right. he’s not lying to you and there’s a thick haze of feelings and unspoken words between you two. you know it’ll take a few words to change everything forever, the thought scares you, and you can’t handle the label you know you’re avoiding. the word that perfectly encapsulates what you already should’ve known for twenty years.

“can i shower and then maybe i’ll agree with you?” rafe lets you pull back, he knows he has you, and you know you have him. you just need a bit of space to catch your breath. he imagines these feelings sprouting up after so long can be overwhelming, they’re still overwhelming for him but he’s gotten used to relinquishing any rational thought when it comes to you. you just need time to get used to it too. you return to the guest room and hop in the shower. rafe put a set of his clothes next to yours and you don't even hesitate, they feel comfier on your skin and they smell like him, you wear his clothes and dry your hair before seeking him out. you feel more like a human, the sins of last night washed off you, and now you can finally give in.

you lean against his doorframe, his eyes already on you, as you say, “you’re gonna make me say it first aren’t you?”

a/n: i was geeking writing this (don’t hate me for the cliffhanger)

rafe realizes he may have made a mistake when he overhears you and sarah arguing at a party. he’s walking past the room you two are in and the door is slightly open. it’s not entirely his fault your raised voice stuns him, you sound so hurt and his body goes into some sort of panic state from the sound alone. his feet feel heavy, unmovable, so he leans against the wall next to the door.

“sarah i can’t, the last time was so fucking awkward okay!” you can’t believe she’s actually suggesting you stay at tannyhill while your place gets fixed. your dishwasher, which you found out was from 1981, had broken and caused your place to flood. the repair company said it would take at least a couple of weeks, not to mention the headache of replacing your furniture. you even had to get ready in the car with plastic bags of your clothes. thankfully since your room was on the second floor your clothes and important belongings were unharmed but there was no way you could stay there with the ground floor being unusable. you planned to book a hotel or crash at one of your OBU friend’s dorms when sarah cameron swooped in to save you. at least she thought she was saving you, but here you were feeling nauseous from her suggestion.

“he doesn’t hate you, come on, that's crazy, and besides it's my house too he doesn’t decide who goes in and out. rose and dad adore you, they’d love to-“ he flinched at sarah’s words, so this was about him. that’s why you were so angry. he hadn’t heard you angry since the last party, it was still far better than your sadness. he hadn’t seen you much since the bar burger thing and it was for the best, you had seemed happy with your new friends and he didn’t want to ruin that. topper and kelce managed to keep him in the loop even if he didn’t ask about it, mentioning that you had arrived with your friends. rafe might not be talking to you but it was an impossible task to ignore you. the black mini skirt and plain grey crop top you were wearing might as well have been a wedding dress in his eyes. there was no other girl in the party, in all of outer banks, the whole world, he’d rather look at even for a few seconds. his absence in your life was a good thing right? then why did he feel like breaking down the door between you two from the sound of you in distress.

“please sarah i can’t-“ and he hears your voice crack and then the small sobs that follow it, the solo cup in his hand crunches. he wants to so badly go in and beg you to stop crying. he knows he doesn’t deserve to hear this but he still can’t move, his stomach twists at the sound of your broken breathing, it takes him back to when you would cry in his arms and he would hug you until you stopped. now he can’t even approach you and it’s all his fault. his eyes sting with unshed tears, he wills them away.

“i should beat rafe’s ass” rafe thinks that’s the best thing sarah has said in a while. you panic at the statement, wiping your tears. you couldn’t stand to break this illusion of ignorance between you two. you’d been stealing glances at him all night, even your college friends had deduced that the “hot blonde buzzcut” was off limits. you didn’t correct them, only saying that it was complicated and you hadn’t even spoken to him but he looked better for it.

“no, don’t say anything to him, i just need to get used to it s’all. we used to be best friends ya know, i loved him so much, i mean i still do but sometimes i don’t know if he even remembers me.” you can’t pretend in front of sarah, not when you see his face in hers. her brown eyes stare into yours, they’re not the shade that you’re used to. it’s always like this. you get a bit drunk and you start looking for the closest thing in the eyes of others. that’s how you ended up with your two exes, ultimately realizing the shade would never be close enough.

even now you wonder if rafe’s okay, if he’s doing better now that you’re out of his life again. he looked so uncomfortable with you around and seeing him now still makes you feel horrible but you can tell he’s happier. you can’t help the tears that keep streaming. rafe flinches at your words, hearing you say that you love him is breaking his heart and he clenches his hand by his side. it’s a privilege to be loved by you, even if it’s not the way he wants.

“you’re kinda impossible to forget.” rafe takes it back, that’s the best thing sarah said. how could he possibly forget you? you were itched into his bones, your initials tattooed on his heart, even in his dreams you haunted him. he goes to sleep looking at the framed photo of you two in kindergarten and wakes up to the one of you in middle school, looking shy and slightly goofy in your formal wear for the school dance. and he could’ve removed them, rose had even suggested it, but that just felt wrong. much like the distance between you two right now.

“thanks sare love you.” he could hear your voice muffled, sarah hugged you close.

“love you too, now stop messing up your makeup, you're too pretty to cry over him.” with that he took his drink back to the kitchen and replaced it with something harder.

rafe nearly faints when he sees you in his kitchen the next morning. he thinks he might have discovered some new level of drunk that makes you hallucinate. you’re clearly hungover too, your eyes barely open as you trudge around. clad in an oversized shirt and gym shorts that look like they might be from high school, you’re entirely too endearing to be real. when you see him you mumble something about sarah saying it was fine. he knows it’s fine, he actually thinks seeing you back in the house is the most fine he’s ever felt in years. you’re looking for something he notices, unsuccessful in your search. he curiously watches on, unbelieving that after this long you’d know where things are.

“hey uhm where’s the cereal bowls? i swear they were over here before-“ and you’re right they were where you were standing, rafe shuts his eyes for a few beats to find some semblance of self control. when he opens them he’s looking away from you and grabbing a glass of water for the painkiller he desperately needs.

“next to the fridge.” he motions towards the cabinet on the left and you nod.

“that makes more sense.” rafe doesn’t tell you that wheezie had said the same thing before insisting the bowls be moved there.

“oh-“ your hands reach for a bowl but your gaze is captivated by the explosion of colors stark against uniform white bowls. it’s the bowl you and rafe painted together after pottery class, your initials engraved into it and your eyes water at the sight. your heart aches at how different your friendship is now compared to the love and respect gone into making the bowl only years ago. looking at it now the bowl is pretty hideous, none of the colors complement one another but somehow it makes sense.

“hey why are you-“ his voice plants you firmly back into reality, it doesn’t have the soft lilt it used to have, the one he reserved for you. it sounds almost angry. once again hard and distant and it jolts you back into obedience, grabbing a regular one and wiping at your eyes. rafe feels like he might throw up when he watches you physically flinch from his words. the thought that he scared you of all people made what little resolve he had left crumble. you were the only one who understood him, the only one who insisted he wasn’t the monster rose thought he was, that ward was a terrible father for how he treated you. you couldn’t be scared of him, you were the only one. now you flinched from his voice alone.

“i’m sorry.” you’re apologizing for something you’re not entirely sure of and rafe begins to hate himself. why couldn’t he be normal? why did he have this insatiable urge to make you his? all the anger and frustration he felt when you left was nothing in the face of seeing you cry because of him. and it’s the second time it’s happening in the span of twenty-four hours.

“come here.” you look up shocked and find him with an arm outstretched to pull you into his side. his expression is cracking like yours, his brows drawn together and his head hung low, he looks almost apologetic. you’re so shocked you think you might be dreaming so you don’t hold back. you loop your arms around his waist and bury yourself into his chest breathing in his scent and relishing in the warmth while you can. you’re sure you’ll wake up soon but the scent of his detergent and something that’s just him is starting to seem real. rafe breathes out in relief as he hugs you back properly and he can feel tears against his chest. at least now he can comfort you, if he hugs you long enough you’ll stop right?

“i’m sorry.” you say it again, rafe clicks his tongue at your words, they’re muffled and said into his chest but he hears them still. you’re so small in his arms now, curves and soft skin make you feel fragile in his hold and he curls around you protectively, his chin resting on top of your shoulder as his arms hold your upper back.

“why are you apologizing?” his voice is softer now and murmured into your ear and you cry more, your heart breaking at the sound. the edge dulled, if he cuts you now it will be worse, you won’t survive it. he feels you shake in his arms and he tightens them instinctively, you might just hold your breath until the illusion shatters. until he leaves you.

“i don’t know, i feel like i must have done something wrong for you to be mad at me.” the admission breaks you in two, you’d been holding onto it for years, the guilt of wronging your best friend, the frustration of not knowing what you did. you clutch the worn cotton of his shirt, the fabric presses against your fingertips like it might just be real.

“you’re forgiven, you've always been forgiven, i'm just mad at myself.” the words are a relief and a burden, you hate that he blames himself, for what you’re not entirely sure but you don’t press him, you have him in your arms that is enough for now. rafe doesn’t miss the way your hands are still clenching around the material of his shirt, but you let go. you let it all go. in the face of losing him forever you let a lot of things go, you’ll be his friend forever if that’s what it takes.

“that makes zero sense, rafey.” there’s the nickname, the one you called him hundreds of times maybe even more. your voice devoid of sadness, he can hear the teasing in your tone and its familiar, welcome. he breathes out in relief when he hears it and it still lights a fire within him just like the first time you said it and he realized you might just be more than a friend. you feel the breath on the shell of your ear, this isn’t a dream but maybe you should keep pretending it is. you lean back to look at him, hands falling to your sides and he releases you, his own hands resting on your waist instead. you don’t move away, you let him and he nearly cries himself.

“yeah i know.” a small smile curls his lips and you return it tenfold, a grin taking over your face. rafe decides he’d do anything to keep you smiling instead of crying over him.

after that you and rafe slowly fall back into friendship, he helps you clean up your place and move out any damaged furniture. you get to know him again and he does the same, he hasn’t changed much. he still has this hard exterior for everyone else, one that he sheds for a select few but you know him. you know he’s still the little boy who would stop everyone’s game of tag to tie your shoelaces or sneak out and run to your place after you texted him that your parents were arguing again and you couldn’t stop crying just so he could hold you through it. ward still underestimates him and at the same time expects too much and rose still pretends he’ll leave soon enough so she can continue ignoring him.

there is a slight change to one thing though, your rafe is now absurdly, annoyingly hot. sure you’d had a crush on him in middle school, maybe even a bit more than that but you had never considered him hot. now he’s a man and when he acts like one it sends your system into shock. for instance, he carried your couch out by himself, arms straining and glistening with sweat, making you feel a bit dizzy, you blamed it on the heat and made him set it down for you to sit on, just so you didn’t have something to stare at. that didn’t work since he dragged the couch with you on it. or then when a waiter got your order wrong and proceeded to tell you that you must have misspoken, refusing to take the blame. rafe quickly shut it down asking him to remake the dish, in a way only he could without any room for arguing. you could have handled it yourself, maybe you would have been nicer about it, but knowing that you didn’t have to, that rafe would take care of it made something coil in your stomach. one time he even dropped you to class just as an excuse to get coffee with you. he’d told you to have a good day in a way that stunned you into silence. the image of him leaning over the console to open the door for you and watching you climb out had you zoned out for half of the class. you were starting to grow attached to him in a different way, something less pure and innocent than what you had always known. the fact that your place was still being restored and you were a few steps away from him every night didn’t help either.

staying at tannyhill had its pros and cons. the pros being obvious, 24/7 unfettered access to your best friend and your favorite siblings. the cons being the parents of said siblings. rose was as nice as she could be, she never fully understood your friendship with rafe and you didn’t need her to. ward, however, was unfortunately unchanged. he was out of the house most days working and when you finally did meet he made sure you knew that he was still an asshole.

“hey kiddo look at you, all grown up into a beautiful young lady! i am so happy you’re back, im sorry for not greeting you earlier. work has been keeping me out late” he gives you a warm side-hug that you accept graciously. he’d always been kind to you, rafe was the troublemaker of your duo anyways so he never had any reason to be otherwise. but you knew all the things he said to rafe, you knew how he treated him from the very beginning, so you could never really open up your heart to ward cameron. especially not when he was good at acting the perfect father in your face.

“it’s no problem ward, thank you for your hospitality.” you did mean that last part even if you didn’t particularly like him. your parents also seemed to get along with him so spoiling any kind of relationship wouldn’t help you.

“oh come on tannyhill is your home too you know that, rafe really needed you back here too. how are your folks doing?” you bristle at his words, it had been a while since you’d spoken to him. you’d forgotten how casually he disparaged your best friend.

“they’re doing well, they send their best wishes and love.” your words came out automatically, your mind on autopilot. you had to say something but the fear of disappointing your parents loomed over your head. ward knew you, he knew you would never fall out of line as long as he knew your parents.

“i’ll reach out to your father, it’s been a while since we caught up.” a silent threat, you nodded at his words turning to leave. there was a lump in your throat and your heart pounded in your chest, it screamed for you to stick up for rafe but your head relented. you were almost out of earshot of ward when you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“ward?” you called out, making sure he was still able to talk.

“yes sweetie?” his head turned toward you, warmth in his eyes. you supposed he must see the little girl who walked home with rafe hand-in-hand. you do hope he can take you seriously.

“rafe doesn’t need me, i think he just needs love and support. he’s been doing fine without me.” ward couldn’t tell you just how wrong you were. he could however parse the subtle jab sent his way.

“you were always wise beyond your years.” he says it with that smug smile you can’t read and leaves first. you’ll tell yourself you won this round but really there were no winners only one person who was losing.

rafe is none the wiser to your conversation which you take as a plus, you’d worried ward would reprimand him for what you said. you don’t talk about ward though it was never your favorite topic anyways. and you don’t talk about the five year gap, even though it keeps you up some nights.

a/n: war is over 🙏 i’m too much a softie to continue the angst + there’s only a few chaps left and we have to get freaky!

the next time you run into each other, or really reluctantly meet up, is at the golf range. topper and kelce had conveniently left out the fact that rafe would be joining and you think from the sheepish glances they exchange as you spot the buzzcut they did it on purpose. you know you’re technically the odd one out, but you expected them to figure out that wasn’t a good idea after the last time you saw each other. like the mature 20-year-olds you were, you both ignored one another again. you thanked the sun in your eyes for allowing you a valid reason to not stare at him. rafe similarly thanked the sun for staring at you unabashedly with your back to him. your hair was up in a high ponytail, donned in a familiar light blue skirt and crop top. your legs glistened from sweat and the curve of your ass was barely concealed by how short your skirt was. yeah, suffice to say he was grateful. he caught himself in the thought, finding himself smiling.

“you’re still here huh? tryna prove something to daddy back home?” the voice rang clear in the tension filled silence stretched between you two, you still couldn't get used to the sound. you probably should by now. you know the sweeter lilted version he used to reserve for you would never be back, and while his voice wasn’t this deep before the edge is still there. a knife that keeps digging into you, bleeding you dry, slowly and consistently.

“despite your best efforts, i bought a place, you dick.” rafe hates that you don’t turn towards him when you say it, he hates how far away you sound. the words come out without any vitriol, but he relishes in the childish way you insult him.

“you’re actually staying?” an exhausted sigh leaves your mouth as you finally turn towards him, your brows furrowed, and his gaze traces your features. he could probably draw them with his eyes closed, but then he’d give up a chance to see them himself.

“yeah i always wanted to move back, i didn’t really have a choice before.” there’s that tone again, neutral and unfeeling, he hates it. distantly rafe knows he’s heard it before, you used to talk like this after you got yelled at by your dad or your parents got into a fight that you had to be subjected to. you’re trying to disassociate yourself from your own feelings and rafe knows that this time he’s the one to blame. his stomach turns and his throat suddenly feels dry, he has to make this better for both of you somehow.

“right, well you stay on your side, i’ll stay on mine.” as soon as the words come out rafe knows he’s messed it up further, your face falls slightly before your mask is back.

“really? what are we twelve?” rafe wants to laugh, but he can’t let you have that. the words are out now, he can’t take them back. maybe this is the only way for him to move on. he knows that’s a lie because even your annoyance is a benefaction.

“i was probably nicer at twelve.” there’s no humor in the statement, you feel like crying, there’s a horrible curl in your stomach and your heart is beating out of your chest. rafe is really ending it, you might be sick. you realize you’d rather bleed to death slowly than the knife be pulled out all at once, at least before you could hope for survival. the humid heat of outer banks does nothing to help the cold sweat coating the back of your neck. you feel sick.

“you definitely were, we were friends back then.” the whole conversation is pointless by now, both of you know it, but there’s something invisible holding you in that space, staring at one another with blank expressions and speaking nonsense just to keep talking. you’re tracing each other’s expressions with fervor, both of you know this might be the last time you can do it. it’s painfully familiar, you’re almost hit over the head with how similarly this echoes your childish fights before. you’d always give each other the silent treatment only to give in hours later. that wouldn’t happen this time.

“listen, i don’t know what your problem is with me, rafe, but i'm sorry if i-“a last-ditch attempt from your end. rafe cut you off quickly, ridding you of any hope for reconciliation.

“don’t, it’s fine just-we don’t need to be friends again, and honestly i just want you to stay away from me. if that’s too hard for you then-“

“i can do that.” there it was, the end of it. a lump formed in your throat; you had both long forgotten your game of golf. topper and kelce were returning, wondering what was holding you up. your legs might as well have sunken into the grass with how much effort it took to move. you tore your eyes away from his when you remembered them.

“oh one more thing, i can still hang out with topp and kelce right?” rafe didn’t have to punish you for his own problem. he took one look at his idiot friends and nodded at your question.

“yeah why would i care?” you gathered your golf bag, setting it on one of the golf carts as you avoided his gaze. rafe took you in, for maybe the last time he let himself, and tried to memorize every inch of you. you still had that scar on your knee, he’d cried with you when you got it, his dad had yelled at him to act like a man, he was 10. he should feel embarrassed by the memory or even sad but instead he relishes that he is a part of your skin somehow. that’s all he might have left now.

“cool.” it was the last thing you said before taking off and leaving him completely numb.

as it would happen, obx isn’t big enough for you to run in the same circles and avoid one another. especially when the camerons love you like their own daughter. rose had called you daughter-in-law for about two years of your life before you both started blushing and getting shy about the title.

and rafe does in fact care because it’s about two weeks since your little truce and he’s seething at the fact his friends have been hanging out with you and not him.

no, it’s more so you’re hanging out with them and not him, but he won’t admit that. rafe’s coming back from topper’s place, pissed off beyond repair that his friend keeps mentioning how funny you are like rafe doesn’t know it. but even topper, despite his general asshole demeanor, knows that you’re off limits. no one has dared to talk about you in any slightly untoward way since childhood because rafe always dealt with it. the last time someone had commented on your body in middle school you had to clean up rafe’s bloodied knuckles. even now years later the silent understanding stands.

he can’t believe his misfortune luck when he sees you hanging out with wheezie in his backyard. you’re both lying on your stomachs on a picnic blanket, hunched over wheezie’s phone. you’d always been protective over his little sister.

“lil cameron you sure know how to pick em.” you look at her unbelieving that the creature on her phone screen is the crush she’s been gushing over. wheezie had texted you that she needed advice, and you had a hard time saying no to her. she’d also mentioned/threatened that she would have to ask rafe if you didn’t respond because sarah was too busy with john b. that made you rush over immediately, knowing if rafe got involved the kid would be in for hell.

“oh come on he’s not that bad!” he hears you two giggling and while he could easily ignore you it’s starting to get under his skin. rafe walks past and you both look up; wheezie giving him a small smile and wave while your smile just seems to disappear. he tries to not let it sting, his expression blank as your eyes briefly meet and he goes inside. you both return to dealing with the message her crush sent. wheezie, ever the perceptive teen, picks up on your little interaction immediately. “what’s that about?”

“ask your brother,” you try not to touch the subject, it’s been hard to ignore it when you’re alone. you’re doing your absolute best to live in the present.

“oh please you know he won’t tell me anything.” wheezie looks at you with her big bright eyes and you can’t say no to her. you still see her as the little girl who’d ask you to play with her when sarah didn’t.

“okay fine, he doesn’t want to be friends anymore and we kinda agreed to ignore each other from now on.” your eyes fixate on the picnic blanket, picking at the threads that are coming out, you’re sure you can see the feelings flash across her face, they mimic the ones you’re swallowing down.

“what?!” it’s as shocking as it should be, you know if rose found out she’d be giving rafe shit for it. for some reason she favored you over her own stepson and that only made you dislike her more. your relationship with ward and rose had always been complicated just as rafe’s had been with your own parents.

“we stopped talking while i was gone, i guess he just moved on.” wheezie, much like anyone else who knows you two even a little, knows that your statement is categorically false. rafe hadn’t moved on even an inch. in fact, she could bet he was watching you from inside. her earliest memories of you had always been by rafe’s side. rafe was always softer with you like he was softer with her, that side of him was her favorite. that was the rafe she knew, not this petulant manchild who was pretending he didn’t care about you.

“i’m sorry.” there was nothing else to say. if rafe was willing to give you up, no one would make him see reason.

“thanks wheeze, now back to your creature.” you painted on a fake smile, hoping at some point it’d feel real.

then there’s the club, you’re still a member even now and you look like a dream in a sundress. rafe showed up with topper, kelce was already there chatting with you at the bar. you were quite the sight, your textbooks splayed across the bar as you worked on your biology homework. he wondered how his friends had managed to get you to come. rafe kept his distance, his body angled towards the bar. topp and kelce had caught on, giving up on getting you two to be friendly. there wasn’t anything he could do when your perfume lingered in the air, the breeze plotting against him and blowing it his way. being taller than his friends also meant he couldn't really avoid seeing you when he looked over. the amusement of seeing you steadfastly studying while nursing a drink was making it hard for him to ignore you.

“wanna grab dinner? i’m feeling burgers.” topper suggested after the sun had gone down and the bar was starting to fill.

“i’m good.” you hadn’t felt hungry in a while. you felt behind in your classes from all the chaos of moving and having little time for your homework. your laid-back friends kept inviting you out and while you missed them and wanted to make up for lost time you were feeling stretched thin. the constant reminder of your lost friendship didn’t help the already sickening anxiety churning in your stomach.

“you sure?” kelce asked, noticing how you didn’t look up from your textbook.

“yeah i’m not hungry.” rafe could see it in your face, your cheeks weren’t as round as he remembered. he started to feel panicked at the thought he might be to blame, so he rallied the boys to leave. you walked home by yourself, still trying to finish your homework while walking, of course unsuccessfully. when your doorbell rang a few minutes after you got home you didn’t expect a bag at your front door. a burger and fries. you knew who it was, but you refused to acknowledge it. topper and kelce would never do this. after that you eat normally, rafe didn’t deserve your thanks and you were too proud to let him think it was because of him.

you catch up on your classes after hunkering down for a week and refusing any socializing. your home is finally moved in, your furniture fills the space, and you don’t mind being home. the realization that you can finally feel comfortable at home is bittersweet, the absence of your parents is welcome, but another isn’t. his absence is a curse that you just can’t lift.

a/n: the pain is almost over i swear! (i can’t handle too much angst) also this series won’t be too long i think five parts max!

“when the fuck did you get back?” those are the first words you hear from your childhood best friend after almost five years of silence. you hadn’t even seen him walk up to where you and sarah were standing on the country club patio. if you were a bit tipsier, you might have even fallen over. the air is thoroughly knocked out of you, not just from his words but also his appearance. he’s grown into his features a bit too well and puberty has made him heads taller than you and fill out his clothes, he looks as intimidating as his word should be. you have to strain your neck to meet his eyes and there isn’t a small smile or any baby fat to soften the blow, rafe is all hard edges and harsh lines with a frown to match. there’s a small part of you that’s grateful he’s even talking to you. as pathetic as it is, you haven’t heard his voice since he dropped off the face of the earth.

the last time you heard it was his stupid voicemail message when you accepted the fact that you had been blocked. you let the familiar azure calm your nerves. even if so much had changed, the color of his eyes, your favorite color remained the same.

“it’s nice to see you too rafe.” as much as you were affected by his words, you didn’t let it show. there was something almost eery how you refused to let him win even now, to let him even see weakness. your response came out smooth and practiced, rafe hated how even now your voice rang between his ears and made his heart skip a beat. he was glaring down at you but the way you said his name, still honeyed by years of friendship, chipped away at his anger. god he was pathetic. he looked away towards the water, trying to remember that you’re the one who left, he should be angry, before looking back at you, willing away any ounce of love left from his stare.

“didn’t mayhew move into your place?” you vaguely remember the family that had bought your old home. rafe knew better than you since he mentioned how he had gotten into a fight with the kid a week after you moved. he’d said he just didn’t get along with him, sarah told you that rafe had it out for the kid as soon as their moving van showed up.

“i’m back by myself, i transferred to OBU.” that was always your plan, do two years at your state school and then transfer to OBU to finish up and stay there. OBU’s marine biology program was nationally recognized and even if he didn’t remember it, you had promised rafe you’d be back.

you remember how you both cried into each other's necks when you told him the news, as soon as your parents told you the only thing you could think of was your best friend. the walk, or in that instance the run, between your houses wasn’t long and you took off immediately. rose had long gotten used to leaving the back door open for you and she didn’t even acknowledge you when you came barreling through it asking for rafe’s whereabouts. “out by the dock.” when you found him you were already in tears, his arms coming around you instantly and holding you tight before you had even said a word. he smelled like seaweed and leather, he smelled like home. as the words left your lips, rafe knew he would never recover from them. three simple words that had somehow destroyed the fragile casing around his heart, piercing through them and leaving him broken forever. “i’m moving.” you both cried for what felt like hours, until you couldn’t any more and all that was left was hiccups, you promised him you’d be back. he promised to visit. rafe always knew those were empty promises. he knew it was over, you would leave and never come back. you’d abandon him like everyone else, he was a lost cause, he never deserved you anyways. but now you were here. and all he felt was anger.

“great another fucking problem to deal with.” you blinked at his words, watching his back as he abruptly left. by comparison the rafe who walked away from you now could never be the rafe who you left on that dock. sarah did her best to remedy the situation, your return was supposed to be a happy affair after all. while she was younger than you and you rarely hung out before, being stuck by rafe’s side mostly, you had stayed friendly over the phone. she knew you were coming back but kept it a secret from everyone like you asked, now she wondered if this was why.

“ignore him, he’s been pissy for…well years!” you shake it off as best as you can, sarah manages to corral all your old friends, but one is clearly missing. there’s a six-foot-something hole in your heart that you desperately try to ignore. 

the next week passed with relative ease, you’re so busy adjusting to life in obx again that you hardly notice rafe’s absence. you’d signed on a place, with rose’s help, and your parents had shipped the remainder of your clothes. you met sarah’s new friends and while they don’t greet you with open arms they’re still good company. they’re younger than you and it’s hard to relate to high schoolers when you’re studying for your next exam but they’re less judgmental and superficial then your old friends. by the time the weekend rolls around you’ve moved into your new place and topper invites you to a party at the beach. the kids in figure eight were hardly similar to you but when you were younger you didn’t care where or who you were with, as long as rafe was there you would be okay. now you were standing in the same circle of friends, pretending that you didn’t know one another. you felt more out of place than ever, like the small child who waited for her best friend on the playground when no one else wanted to play with her. but your best friend wasn’t coming, he wasn’t even looking at you. the makeup on your face, the dress clinging to your body, all felt itchy and heavy on you. you wanted to go back to your new home and watch tv and pretend rafe still cared even a little about you even if he blocked your number.

kelce rattled on about some new girl he was talking to when topper started yelling. the “pogues” had crashed the party. you rolled your eyes as topper exclaimed that you should tell them to leave. he’d been on your ass about your new friends and you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

“what?” he questioned, clearly taken back by how little you cared, rafe prepared himself for the inevitable argument to follow. even if he wasn’t looking at you he knew how you reacted. he’d told topper to back off when you went to get a drink, not that he’d ever admit it, but now the issue at hand was quite literally feet away.

“don’t you think it’s kinda corny, this whole ‘kooks’ versus ‘pogues’ thing? i mean we’re not in some shitty 80’s high school movie.” you swigged your beer and topper guffawed, incredulous and animated and you began to wonder maybe you were in a shitty movie. that would explain the nearly comical way rafe was turned away from you just a few feet away. on top of the shame and anger you were feeling from his cold shoulder, topper’s little outburst was solidifying how little you wanted to be here. 

“wowww you switched up.” kelce chimed in from the peanut gallery, everyone was enjoying the small drama you provided. you supposed the rich kids of figure eight had little other entertainment. 

“nah i always thought it was dumb, he knows.” you gestured towards rafe. it was a bit childish but you refused to acknowledge each other, until now. in hindsight you should have just continued ignoring him. rafe could feel his friend’s gazes turn toward him, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he turned slightly towards you, leveling you with a blank stare. focusing his full attention on you was a little jarring for both of you, he’d been trying to ignore the way your dress revealed curves he didn’t know existed and you’d been trying to ignore the urge to cry at the vacant look in his eyes.

“maybe you can just leave again since you hate it so much. ya know-go the fuck back to where you came from.” his voice was calm and gravelly, almost as if he didn’t care what you did or the fact that you were here at all. that stung more than his anger. you set down your beer and gained on him, almost chest to chest as your crossed arms lightly grazed his front. he seemed unaffected by your proximity, or the way you glared up at him but you knew him, you knew the twitch of his nose and brow meant he wasn’t. rafe would never concede that the sight of you small and angry, looking like a vision in your baby pink dress, had him thoroughly entranced. you were always beautiful but now that you’d grown up, into a woman, he could barely stand to look at you. his stomach coiled with that wretched feeling he’d spent years ignoring, the cause of it hadn’t been so obvious in a while but now it was glaring at him. the scent of your perfume and skin had put a spell on him, that must have been it.

“fuck you cameron.” he reveled in your anger, the way you practically growled at him. a sick and twisted thought consumed, at least you were looking him in the eye, looking at him at all. he was getting under your skin and he wanted to move in. at least then you couldn’t leave him.

“the door’s that way.” you shoved past him, your shoulder bumping against his chest, spilling a bit of his beer and convincing pope to drop you home in a matter of seconds. rafe’s thoughts spiraled, you could yell at him all night, but going home with pope may as well have been a stab in the back. not that you could have known that. he swallowed down the urge to drag you back by your waist and make you scream at him some more.

a/n: oh boy the angst :< rafe is so mean to reader! this one’s a short one but i wanted to ease everyone into the story, ch.2 will be out tmrw!

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6 18+