romy

abt me, romy!

current favs; lorde and charli xcx, tumblr and pinterest, rafe & drew!!

links!

masterlist ☆ taglist ☆ obx edit acc ☆ c.ai & j.ai current on going series - the island lookout (smau & irl) childhood bsf!rafe

hehe ty!!

I have an iphone and in the u.s. so the apps that are available to u might vary, but i use memi messages for texts, TwiNote for tweets, my feed for instagram feeds, photonote for posts, and for anything else like instagram dms, i do it between my own two accounts and edit the profile pic and usernames in picsart :)

HOLY SHIT GUYS THANK YOU THANK UOU THANK UOIIIUUUUUU FOR 500!!!

I love brat readers.. so enjoy this freakshow where both of them are lowk psychotic and freaky as hellll

warnings: none really, suggestive content

rafe masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

w the story i have set up now they’re going to a party buttttt idk what u guys want the outcome of that to be.

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

an; hi guys! as this series (almost) comes to an end.. i was wondering where you'd want it to end off. i was thinking around 20 chapters total? also, lmk if you guys have any requests for future smau series!

part 14 - part 15 - part 16

it’s been a month. a month of you and rafe completely ignoring each other, refusing to even acknowledge the other exists, and week since midsummers. and at first, maybe it made sense—whatever happened that night at midsummers clearly meant something, and neither of them has ever been good at handling feelings they don’t understand. but now? now it’s just getting weird, and sarah and topper can tell.

sarah watches as roni scrolls through her phone, pretending to be unbothered, but it’s obvious. every time rafe’s name comes up, she rolls her eyes a little too hard, scoffs a little too loudly, like she needs everyone to know just how much she doesn’t care. except she keeps bringing him up. she keeps letting him take up space in her head, even if it’s just to talk shit.

topper sees it in rafe too. he doesn’t talk about her at all. won’t even say her name, won’t react when she’s mentioned, like if he ignores it long enough, whatever happened between them will just disappear. but his grip tightens on his beer when kelce makes a joke about her, his shoulders tense when she’s in the same room. he pretends he doesn’t care, but topper knows better.

it’s been a week since midsummers, and they’re both still pretending. it’s getting pathetic. so, naturally, sarah and topper come to the same conclusion: if roni and rafe won’t fix it themselves, they’ll have to do it for them.

sarahs phone:

sarah and topper had their backs against the wall. they’d spent weeks trying to get roni and rafe to talk, to no avail. silence hung thick between them, and it wasn’t just awkward—it was unbearable. the two were still at each other's throats, and every attempt to get them to open up had failed. so, they resorted to what they knew best: a little sabotage.

rafe's phone:

the plan was in motion.

sarah had been dropping hints about the party to you for days, acting like it was just a casual get-together. she didn’t not mention that rafe would be there—just dodged the question because, well, thats not technically lying, and that would’ve been too much of a spoiler. she figured if you didn’t know what to expect, maybe you'd be more inclined to show up. no promises. just a party, a little distraction, nothing major.

topper had his own way of handling things. with rafe, it was a matter of wearing him down, pretending it wasn’t a big deal, until rafe caved. when topper told him kelce was throwing a party, he tried to play it cool, not biting at first. but topper’s casual, almost indifferent tone eventually cracked rafe’s stubbornness.

it wasn’t until later that both sarah and topper realized how messy this could get. neither of them told you and rafe about the other attending. they didn’t want to stir the pot too much. but they also knew that, after everything, getting you two in the same space might be the only way to get them to face what they were too afraid to deal with. which, they weren't even sure what exactly it was that happened between you two.

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

part 13 - part 14 - part 15

you wake up and immediately know you messed up.

the room is too quiet. the bed isn’t yours. the sheets smell like rafe.

you blink, trying to shake off the groggy haze, and then it all floods back—the kiss, the way he talked about jj, how you cried like a complete idiot.

you turn your head. rafe is still asleep, arm tucked under his head, peaceful in a way that makes your chest tighten.

you need to go.

moving as quietly as possible, you slip out of bed, grab your phone, and tiptoe to the door. when you crack it open, you pray the house is still asleep. then, you hear it—the front door clicking shut, followed by muffled voices fading outside.

jj and john b.

you wait a beat, listening until the house settles again, then creep down the hall. from the landing, you catch sight of sarah in the kitchen, rinsing dishes at the sink. no sign of jj or john b.

"thank god," you mutter under your breath before making your way down.

sarah barely glances up as she sets a mug aside. "oh! morning, roni. you just missed jj and jb—they headed out a few minutes ago."

"cool," you say quickly, already pulling out your phone, pretending to check your messages. your brain scrambles for an excuse, anything to get out of here before rafe wakes up. then, you fake a frown at the screen. "ugh, my mom’s telling me to come home right now."

sarah furrows her brows. "right now?"

"yeah," you nod, already turning for the door. "like, right now. she’s being so annoying. i gotta go."

sarah blinks. "wait, what—"

"i'll text you later!" you call over your shoulder, practically speed-walking out before she can question it any further. you couldn't risk rafe waking up and having to talk to him.

when you get home, the house is empty. no sign of your mom, no noise except for the faint hum of the fridge and the distant crash of waves outside.

you drop your bag by the door, heading straight to your room. maybe if you focus on something—anything—you can push last night out of your head.

you pull out your laptop, flipping open your textbook like you actually plan on getting work done. but just as you stare blankly at the first problem, your phone buzzes.

sarah.

after the last text, before you turn your phone off, you decide to check island lookout, already knowing they'd have some shit to say about midsummers.

and, of course, they do.

"Apparently, not once during the night were they seen together or talking. Is this the end of Kooked Out?"

you lock your phone and toss it aside, sighing as the weight of last night settles in deeper.

the rest of the day drags. you halfheartedly attempt homework, scroll through your phone, try to pretend like everything is fine.

but the weight of it lingers. the silence. the what-ifs. the fact that you haven’t heard a word from him.

it’s almost evening when your phone buzzes again. you don’t think much of it at first, assuming it’s sarah following up.

but then you see the name on the screen.

rafe.

the island lookout tweet:

thank you! i really appreciate it❤️

I answered this question in this ask, but I use memi messages!

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

an; my biggest apologies for not updating for so long!! schools been really busy recently but i have a vision for the story so no more long waits for new chatpers (i hope)!! also this chapter is again irl heavy

part 12 - part 13 - part 14

you sit there for a second, staring at nothing, before you finally reach for your phone. your fingers hover over the screen before you even know what you’re doing.

the response is immediate.

your breath catches in your throat.

there’s something about that answer that makes your pulse stutter, but you push past it.

you hesitate before the next text, fingers tapping idly against your thigh.

three dots immediately appear, but disappear after a second. you exhale, waiting for the three dots to pop up again. your heartbeat is in your throat and you feel light headed as you wait.

thirty seconds.

thats how long it took for him to respond, and thats all it took for you to almost have a heart attack.

you don’t give it any further thought.

you slip out of the room quietly, your pulse hammering in your ears. jj is already breathing evenly, half-asleep, and he doesn’t stir as you pull the door open.

your path to rafe’s room is eerily quiet. your heartbeat is the only thing you can hear as you reach his door.

you hesitate outside the door for half a second before pushing it open. the room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. shadows stretch long against the walls, warping with the faint movement of the curtains in the breeze. rafe is sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head ducked low like he’s thinking too hard about something.

his head lifts when you step inside. he doesn’t say anything. neither do you.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the quiet shifts. it feels heavier now, thick with something unspoken, something too solid to ignore. the kind of silence that isn’t quite anger, but isn’t far from it either.

you cross the room and sit down on the bed—not too close, but not far either. the space between you feels intentional. rafe exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. he looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in days. the way he won’t look at you only makes the weight in your chest press harder.

"i just..." you start, then stop. your fingers knot together in your lap. "i wanted to talk about earlier."

rafe scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. "of course you did."

you blink at him, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. "what's that supposed to mean?"

he doesn't answer. his jaw clenches, shoulders tensing like he's holding something back.

"rafe," you say his name softer this time, reaching out without thinking, fingers brushing his wrist. he turns at that, eyes flicking to yours for the first time since you walked in. there's something behind them—something sharp, something unraveling.

then suddenly, his hand finds your jaw, fingers curling against your skin, and he kisses you.

it's too quick, too desperate. his lips press against yours like he's trying to make you forget why you're even here in the first place.

but you don’t kiss back.

your hands press flat against his chest, pushing him away as your breath stumbles, heartbeat ricocheting inside your ribs.

“wait—” the word comes out sharp, uneven. your head shakes on instinct, fingers pressing hard against your temples like you can physically stop yourself from spiraling.

"fuck, rafe. you cant just—"

rafe pulls back, eyes searching yours with something raw, something desperate. his brows furrow like he can’t understand why you stopped him, like he can’t understand why it isn’t that easy.

"can't what?"

the weight in your chest threatens to crush you whole.

his voice breaks the silence first, low and uneven. "this about jj?"

your throat tightens. your fingers dig into your arms.

he doesn’t get it.

you shake your head, lips pressing together to keep them from trembling. “you don’t get to do that,” you whisper, voice barely holding together. “you don’t get to just—”

"get to what?"

the words catch. the lump in your throat grows thick, nearly choking.

your jaw clenches. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“act like you don’t know.”

he lets out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “you wanna talk about earlier,” he cuts in, voice clipped. “right?”

you hesitate, but nod. “yeah.”

his lips press together, his hands clasped so tight his knuckles go white. “of course you do.”

you blink, thrown. “we talked for the first time in a month and you don’t wanna talk about it?”

you cross your arms over your chest, pressing your fingers into your skin like you can hold yourself steady. "you wanna talk about it? yeah? how about we start from that night?"

your stomach flips. “what night?”

rafe exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. he shakes his head, jaw clenched.

"you know what fucking night," he snaps. "tannyhill. when we got high and posted all that shit."

you inhale sharply.

he shakes his head. "i woke up thinking it was something. thinking we—" he stops himself, running a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.

"but then you started hanging out with the pogues." his voice turns bitter, edged with something almost venomous. "started running around with him."

your brows furrow. "him?"

his jaw flexes. "jj."

your breath catches.

rafe scoffs. "what, you’re gonna act surprised? like you weren’t all over him?"

your stomach twists, anger flashing through your veins. "are you serious right now?"

"i don’t know, roni. am i?" his voice is sharp, biting. "because it sure as hell looked like you were fucking around with him."

you shake your head, disbelief crawling up

"i woke up that morning, and it was like—fuck, roni, it messed me up. you looked at me like nothing changed. like it was just another night, like—" he stops, running a hand over his face. "and then you were with them. with him. and i didn’t know what to do with that."

your throat feels tight. the pressure behind your eyes builds, your chest getting heavier by the second.

“I mean, was it fun? Did he make you forget—”

you barely hear him anymore. his words are background noise to the storm in your head, to the way your own thoughts are eating you alive.

because he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know what happened. he doesn’t know that for a moment, you let it happen, let yourself fall into something you didn’t even want, just because it was easy.

he’ s still going, voice sharp, edged with frustration. “you could’ve been with anyone, but you picked him? really?” he laughs, but there’s nothing funny about it.

your throat burns. you can feel the tear rolling your cheek.

rafe scoffs for the billionth time, about to keep going—then he the way your breath catches. the way your shoulders curl inward. the way your fingers tremble as you try, and fail, to wipe the tear away before he can notice.

he stops, eyebrows furrowing. “what the fuck? are you fucking crying?”

your hands are clenched in your lap, your teeth digging into your lip, your whole body tense like you’re trying to keep yourself together.

rafe’s irritation falters. his jaw tightens, and he leans in slightly, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. “dude.”

you shake your head quickly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s useless. a tear slips down your cheek, and you swipe at it aggressively, frustrated with yourself.

“what is going on?” his voice is more calm now, but still filled with rage and confusion.“why are you crying?”

you shake your head quickly, like you can push away whatever’s clawing up your throat.

but you do. you’re crying because this is rafe, your best friend, and he feels like a stranger. because you love him, and because you don’t know if you’re even allowed to anymore. because jj’s hands were on you hours ago, and you didn’t want it, not really, but you let it happen anyway.

he’s watching you now, expression shifting, annoyance flickering into something else. something more careful.

you exhale sharply, voice breaking apart before you can even finish. “i didn’t want to.”

his brows pull together. “didn’t wanna what?”

your fingers dig into your arms. you can’t say it. you can’t.

rafe leans in, voice lower, rough but steady. “use your fucking words.”

but you can’t.

your breath stumbles, and then—everything spills over.

your shoulders shake harder, silent at first, but then the sob hits, breaking past your lips in a way you can’t stop. your hands press against your face, like maybe if you hide, this won’t be happening.

rafe hesitates. for half a second, he just looks at you, stunned, like he doesn’t know what to do with this.

then he sighs, muttering a quiet, “fuck,” under his breath—before reaching for you.

he pulls you in, arms wrapping tight around your frame, and this time, you don’t push him away.

your face presses into his shoulder, fingers curling into his shirt, gripping tight like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. rafe’s warm. steady. too solid, too real.

he doesn’t say anything. he was ready for you to fight back, to push him away, to bite out something sharp like you always do when you’re upset. but you don’t. and for some reason, that unsettles him more than anything.

his pulse is still fast from the argument, his breathing uneven, but you’re shaking against him, and suddenly, none of it matters.

the room stays quiet, save for the sound of your breathing, rough and unsteady against his neck. after a moment, he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to even you out with him.

somewhere in the haze, his grip loosens. his thumb moves, slow and absentminded, over your back. maybe it’s instinct. maybe it’s something else.

the weight of the past few weeks lingers, thick in the air between you. nothing is solved. nothing is fixed. but somehow, the anger feels like a distant thing now, like something neither of you have the energy to hold on to.

your body stays tense for a while. you don’t notice when it starts to ease.

and rafe doesn’t notice when he stops thinking about why he’s still holding you.

before you know it, the exhaustion catches up. the weight in your chest dulls, your thoughts blur, and your grip on his shirt goes slack.

rafe feels the shift but doesn’t move.

your breathing evens out first. then his.

before either of you can stop it, sleep settles in, pulling you under.

and for the first time in weeks, neither of you fight it.