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ALEXANDER SKARSGÅRD

Just gotta show you that I’m the one III

RafeCameron x Reader

In which you kiss Rafe during a game of spin the bottle, and he can’t seem to leave you alone after.

18+ Minors DNI— unprotected sex (pls wear protection !!)

wc: ~4.2k

Can be read alone, but here are part one and part two anyway!

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"Wait, but I don't see how this is an issue." Sofia said with her mouth full of french fries.

The two of you sat on the pavement edge outside Mcdonald's. It was close to midnight and she had a craving for some junk food, so you joined her as you had a lot on your mind. You split large fries, and got yourself a sundae while Sofia got something off the breakfast menu.

The light from the big yellow M shone on you and her. It was all quite picturesque, but you were too busy re-thinking your entire life to appreciate anything.

"And I don't see how you don't see how this is an issue." You retort. She shoots you a playful glare, and grabs another handful of fries.

"I just mean— the Rafe Cameron is being sweet and... taking his time. What's the problem? Isn't that a good thing?"

She had a point, but you were too deep into your overthinking spiral of doom to be comforted by her words.

It was silly, and you never saw yourself being in this position but things with Rafe were not ideal. And not in the way you would've assumed three months ago.

The two of you were over the moon. Love and admiration poured out of you when you saw him, and the feeling was very mutual. After the first date, you saw him for breakfast the next morning, as promised, and the rest was history. You spent almost everyday together at this point, and never got tired of one another.

Rafe loved to peel back the layers of your personality, and was enamoured by every single one. He even stopped drinking as much as he used to, because you two would watch movies in his bedroom, rather than attend parties. Topper and Kelce couldn't remember the last time they saw him downing tequila shots at a bar, or smoking a joint on his balcony. It was like you were the asphalt that filled the pothole of his heart. He actually told you that one night, and you cried from how shocked you were at his sweet words. Sure, they were cheesy, but you were happy to know that he didn't mind embarrassing himself in front of you.

If everything was well, then why were you sitting on the ground in front of McDonald's feeling like the shittiest girlfriend alive?

Clearly, even Sofia didn't see where you were coming from, and that made you feel even shittier.

To put it bluntly: Rafe hadn't touched you.

It had been three months, and he hadn't let his hands wander near anything that dampened at the thought of him. And my oh my did that have you on edge at all times. Mainly because you wondered if there was something wrong with you.

See, if this was any other guy, maybe you wouldn't mind as much. Sex is deep, complex, and different for everyone.

But, Rafe? Rafe lost his virginity long before you did, and he'd had many flings with many girls. That meant that sex wasn't something that held a lot of significance for him. Which wasn't the problem, because, well, to each their own.

The problem was that Rafe hadn't touched you!

Every time you saw each other, the night would end in a heated make-out on his couch, or bed, or against a tree, or in his driveway, and he'd always pull away before it got good. You weren't the type to pressure a person into anything, nor were you going to beg him to fuck you because you had your pride (which was thinning at concerning rates). So you'd just go with the flow and have him drive you home with your thighs clenched together to ease the throbbing sensation. And when you got home? Well... you would solve the problem yourself by the help of your trusty fingers. To be honest, you had lots of experience finishing on your fingers, and that always kept you satisfied. But now that Rafe was in the picture, you were just so desperate to feel him for a change.

"Obviously, it's not a bad thing. Like in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter. But I'm just so confused. Like... I heard a few years ago, Bailey Kim slept with him, and the whole time he didn't even know her name." You took a bite out of your cone. "Like where did that Rafe go?" You think out loud.

Sofia's brows raise and she asks, "what? Are you serious?"

"Yes!" You exclaim with wide eyes.

"Bailey's straight?" You deflate at Sofia's lack of focus on the point of your story. She laughs when she notices your disappointment and adds, "okay, okay. But again, how is this a bad thing? He went from being a womanizer to being a, surprisingly, apt boyfriend."

You groan and throw your head back, and notice the big dipper in the sky, momentarily snapping you out of your thoughts.

You face Sofia again. "Soph, I'm gonna be so brutally honest with you. Okay?"

She swallows what she was chewing, and washes it down with a gulp of coke. With a serious expression, she nods, "okay."

You take a deep breath and reach out to hold her hands in yours. You stare deep into her eyes and utter, "I'm really really," you lean in and tighen your grip on her hands. "Horny."

Sofia rolls her eyes and yanks her hands away from you. "Oh my god, Y/N." She shakes her head.

"This isn't a joke! I'm a woman! I have needs!" Your desperate shouts were interrupted when a group of teenagers walked passed you two. Not wanting to embarrass yourself, you stayed quiet and ate the rest of your ice cream.

"It'll happen when it'll happen. Just go with it. It's not the hardest thing to... suppress." She finishes the fries and crumples up the package, throwing it in the trash can.

You sigh. "I get that. I do. I've been single for long periods of time and I've been a-okay. But now that I'm not— now that I know there is an option to have sex— I wanna take it! And knowing about that option makes it difficult to suppress." You tried to make her understand, but knew it was hopeless. Sofia's sex drive was quite low in comparison to yours. Which was fine, but the least she could do was be a little more empathetic!

She nodded, "okay, then, the only real solution is to talk about this with him. Ask him what he's waiting for."

You pout, "I know. But it'll be so awkward. I was thinking maybe I could, instead, somehow make it impossible to resist me."

"How?"

You shrug and whine, "I don't know. Maybe I could kneel in front of him to like, tie my shoes— or, I could pretend I'm in pain and moan a lot."

Sofia stares at you unimpressed. "Or, you could talk to him."

"Or, I could flash him."

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“What? So how did he not recognize his friend from work?" Rafe looked puzzled.

You sigh for the one hundredth time and respond, "Because he underwent a surgery that separated his work memories from home memories. So his coworkers— if he sees them outside of the building— he doesn't know who they are. Total strangers."

He furrowed his brows. "That's so unrealistic though. Like how could a surgery like that even be possible?"

Your eyes widen, "oh my god, it's fiction! The medical technicalities of the surgical procedure isn't the point of the— you know what? Never mind." You huff and lean back against the headboard, staring at his laptop screen.

Rafe was surprised by your reaction. He didn't realize asking a few simple questions would set you off like this. He wasn't sure what to say to have things returned to the way they were. So he just brought his attention back to the show.

You two were having a night-in, and bingeing a TV show, like usual. Tonight, it was an episode of Black mirror, which led you to discuss other sci-fi media you'd seen.

You cut through the thick layer of awkward silence with, "I think I'll get going. I'm tired."

Rafe's eyes widen and he panics slightly. "It's only twelve, Y/N."

You swing your legs over the edge of his bed, and begin standing up. "Yeah, and I'm not nocturnal. So I should get some sleep."

Rafe wanted to reach out to stop you from leaving but his hand dropped on the bed. This was uncharted territory for you two. Your first...fight? Was this a fight? He wasn’t really sure. But his mouth was dry and his left eye wouldn't stop twitching and he just missed you like crazy.

"Baby, you may as well be nocturnal. You sleep at like four AM." He tried to ease the rising tension.

You tie your hair back and shove the remaining strands behind your ears. "Not tonight."

You walk around the foot of his bed and grab your purse from off the floor. Rafe's eyes followed your every move. You hadn't reached for the doorknob yet. There was still time.

"Is this about the show? I was just asking questions. It seems interesting, we can watch it next if—"

You shake your and respond, "I'm tired. That's seriously all it is."

You turn towards the door, so Rafe shoots up off the bed. He walks towards you and clutches your wrist to keep you from leaving.

"No, come on. I promise the whole innie-outie thing is really cool—"

You sigh, exhausted, and yank your wrist away from his tight grasp. "Why aren't we having sex?"

Rafe's eyes widen and his jaw almost falls to the floor. He actually stumbles a few steps back with his stunned expression, and remains silent as he processes your question.

You, on the other hand, felt the deepest maroon blush creep onto your cheeks. The room felt like it had become a sauna and you were sweating bullets. Regret, instantly, hit you like a bus and you debated just running and jumping out of his window into the summer night. Anything would be better than the events that would follow.

"Is that why you've been so... off lately?" He asks slowly.

You stayed silent, which was an answer in and of itself.

Rafe took a step towards you and said, "Y/N, talk to me."

You took a deep breath and averted your gaze as you spoke. "I'm just... lost. I mean you're you, Rafe. I know you enjoy partaking in these... intimate activities. And I do too!" You added to make sure it didn't seem like you were shaming him. "I mean our first interaction involved your tongue down my throat and now, the furthest we've gone is given each other hickies like inexperienced teenagers." You were red in the face, and didn't even realize you'd begun pacing back and forth.

Rade was about to speak up, but shut his mouth when you spoke instead.

"I just don't understand what's going on. Are you... suddenly a no-sex-'til-marriage guy? Or... or do you not find me attractive? Is that it? It's okay if it is. Just let me know now, because I'm going crazy here." Your maniacal pacing came to a halt and you turned to face him.

You were afraid of his reaction, but he looked at you the way he always did. Softly.

"Can I say something now?"

You nodded eagerly and took deep breaths.

Rafe walked towards you and gently reached out to hold your hands in his. He took a few steps back and sat on the edge of his bed, looking up at you.

“I was taking things slow because I didn’t want to treat this as a fling— or even something casual, for that matter.” He spoke so softly, his words alone had your knees buckling. “And I… it’s been really fucking hard for me, you have no idea. But I really wanted to get the point across that this is serious.” He smiles softly and rubs circles with his thumbs on the back of your hands.

You clear your throat. “Well, I think three months… it’s- it’s enough time.” Your words came out as a grumble. Like you were a child who got scolded for eating too many sweets.

Rafe chuckles and feels a sense of relief. Your first fight was already resolving, and it didn’t end in yelling or things being thrown.

“You’re silly. Why didn’t you just tell me this was bothering you?” He brings your hands up and kisses each knuckle.

You sniffle. “I didn’t wanna pressure you… in case you had some serious reason. And I… I thought it was kind of embarrassing to admit.”

He pauses the sweet kisses and looks up at you again. “Embarrassing? Why?”

You tilt your head and eye him as if to say seriously? But Rafe, being the oblivious man he was, just stared at you confused.

So you speak up again. “Because I… I’m being all moody solely due to the fact that I’m… horny. I don't wanna seem desperate, you know?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish your train of thought. But Rafe really wished you would because this was way more entertaining than any Black Mirror episode.

He laughs and shrugs. “I don’t know… I think it’s kinda hot.”

You roll your eyes feeling your face heat up again.

Rafe brings your hand up to his lips again and plants kisses that slowly go up your wrist.

“Makes me feel wanted— needed.” He whispers.

His hushed tone made you shudder.

"You... you said you had a hard time too?" You were trying to take the attention off of you. It was time for Rafe to start taking some brunt of the embarrassment.

He pauses and the corner of his lips curl up. Letting go of your hands, he moves his to your hips and pulls you forward. You understand what he wanted you to do, so you take a step and sit on his lap, straddling him. His arms move to wrap around your waist, as his palms rest on your ass— thumbs playing with the hem of your jeans.

"Hard time is exactly how I'd put it." His hands squeeze the flesh through the denim and it makes you jolt, rubbing against his crotch. "You look at me and I'm sporting a semi."

You let out a breathy chuckle. The lack of sex and the following frustration had reached its peak, and without even realizing your hips began moving. Back and forth your applied pressure and gasped when you felt his cock harden between your thighs. Rafe was murmuring a string of curse words under his breath, and that made you wetter.

“I- I’ve been having to- to get myself off all- all these months,” you bring your hands to the sides of his face, tilting it up to look at you. “And the whole time all I thought about was you.”

Rafe closes his eyes and a grin crosses his face. “Three months ago, I could’ve never imagined you saying those words.” He puckers his lips and leans close to kiss your chin.

It was sweet. And he was being so gentle, which would’ve been great at any other time, but right now you wanted to be bent over and fucked until your legs gave out.

“Really?” You speed up the process and pull your crewneck over your shoulders and toss it on the floor. “You seemed so sure of yourself.”

Rafe’s eyes widened at your lack of bra, and you swear you felt his cock twitch. You never wore a bra around him, hoping that the occasional hardened nipple would make him want to touch you— but unfortunately, he was too much of a gentleman these days. However, now with your bare chest right in front of his face, all restraint sublimated and his hands went to grope them. He squeezed and pinched the bud between his index and thumb. You yelped and pushed him down onto the bed— fully on top now.

“Fake it ‘til you make it, right?” His hands didn’t leave your tits once, and you felt his girth fully erect between you.

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip at the sight. You didn’t want to be the only one undressed so you tugged up the hem of his shirt and he helped you pull it off.

Not being able to hold back, your hands wandered up his torso, running up to his broad chest. Rafe was enjoying the sensation and was now feeling the same impatience as you.

Rafe had thought about this moment many times. Many. Many. Times. It’s the only thought that kept him going for the three months you two didn’t have sex. His mind would get carried away and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around his cock— cum leaking onto his fingers as he caught his breath. But he always wanted to make your first time special. Because it was you. Not some casual fling— no, it was you. You were soft and caring and deep— so naturally, your first time with him should be the same. He imagined candles and roses. He thought of songs he could play in the background to get you in the mood. What kind of lighting would you like? Ideally, he’d want to see your whole body under him— for him to touch and love. But he would gladly dim the lights if that’s what made you comfortable.

What Rafe didn’t realize though was that, in the real world, things seldom went according to plan. Because there was no making love tonight, no you were eager to have him fuck you.

So you two had traded the gentle for the rough.

And, currently, his hand was down your pants as his fingers found their way to your clit. In between the sloppy kisses and you pushing your pants down your legs, he undid his jeans with one hand, while the other pleasured you.

Pants finally off, you ground on his fingers as he rubbed your clit with vigour. It was aggressive, but just what you needed. As your hips rocked, your own hand found Rafe’s cock half-peaking out of his boxers. He grunted when you touched it, and without warning, you started rubbing the precum up and down his length.

Rafe’s fingers buffered against you and you smiled, loving the reaction you got out of him.

“Somethin’ funny?” Rafe groaned as his eyes struggled to stay open.

Instead of answering him, you kissed him. It was like you couldn’t get enough him. How you abstained from him for so long perplexed you. Tonight, everything changed. You could not keep your distance from him anymore and you were already salivating thinking about the rounds to come.

Rafe immediately kissed you back. His fingers sped up despite the cramp he could feel coming on. He didn’t care. All he wanted was for you to come undone on his hands.

But as he sped up, so did you. You jerked him off like your life depended on it— Rafe couldn’t kiss you back anymore because he was too busy gritting his teeth. Needing some sensation on your lips, you didn’t give up, and settled on biting and lightly pulling his bottom lip. If you accidentally punctured the skin and tasted his blood, you wouldn’t have minded. Did you love him?

A moan cut through the heavy and jagged breaths that filled the room. Your moan. Along with your toes curling and back arching.

Rafe was triumphant. You came all over his fingers just like he wanted and the sight of you shaking and mumbling incoherent words made him want you in a way he’d never wanted anyone. He wanted to feel you now. All of you. Inside and out.

As you recovered from your intense orgasm, you twitched and groaned as he continued to rub slower circles against your swollen clit. It was painful now. Sensitive. Uncomfortable. And Rafe knew that— but he enjoyed it.

When you came back to your senses, the hand around his cock picked up his pace. You wanted to get him off too, but Rafe had other plans.

In the blink of eye, your back hit the bed, and Rafe was on top of you.

“Wanna be in you, baby.” Rafe leaned down and sucked on your collar bone.

His fingers, wet with your arousal, were stuffed in your mouth. He didn’t give you any instructions, but you knew he wanted you to lick them clean. Tasting your juices as you came down from your high, you moaned around his fingers as he sucked on your breast. Swirling his tongue around your nipple, you arched against him feeling like you were on cloud nine. He sucked and bit and spat like a mad man. Meanwhile his fingers were hitting the back of your throat making you gag repeatedly.

Finally, he pulled them out from around your lips and brought them back to your core again. Without warning, he plunged them deep into your pussy, stretching you out.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he moaned as he felt your warmth. “How long has it been? Hm?”

You moaned and held onto his shoulders tightly— fingers digging in, almost cutting through. “A-almost a year.” Normally you would’ve been embarrassed to admit that, but right now, you were too distracted.

“Aw, baby. I’ll make up for it.” He chuckled and kissed your neck.

You were being stretched so good, it felt like heaven. Gosh, you wish you’d known how great Rafe was in bed before— it would’ve definitely saved him a lot of time and money.

“I-inside,” you choked out. “Please, Rafe.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

He obeyed you right away. His fingers pulled out, but before you could mourn the loss of contact, you felt yourself full with his thick cock. You both moaned at the same time and his head fell to the crook of your neck. Once he’d made it all the way in, tip kissing your cervix, he stayed there until you adjusted to the length. When you did, you brought your hands to the back of his head and your fingers gripped his hair. He took that as a go ahead and began to move.

Moans and groans filled the bedroom— along with the thumping of his headboard against the wall. It would definitely chip the paint, but he didn’t care. All Rafe wanted was to love you like you deserved— touch you like you desired— and make you cum around his cock like he’d dreamt.

And his dreams were going to come true.

He felt you twitch around him. Wanting to feel him deeper, you wrapped your legs around his bottom. The both of you groaned at the new, tighter feeling.

You both were getting close— Rafe’s unforgiving pace had become sloppy while the knot in your stomach was reaching its peak. You two were hot and sweaty. Eyelids struggling to stay open over the whites of your eyes since they were rolled to the back of your head.

“Won’t be able to hold it in m- much longer.” Rafe stuttered.

“Hm,” your voice came out high pitched. “m-me too.”

Rafe took the momentary consciousness as an opportunity to bring his hand to your leg to push it off. But you weren’t budging— still tightly wrapped around him. Rafe panicked slightly because he was trying to pull out to cum on your tummy— but you weren’t letting him.

“Baby— baby, I-I’m gonna cum.” Rafe’s tone came out more concerned than you’d liked.

“Inside,” you moaned.

And he didn’t need to be told twice. In an instant, you felt your pussy full of hot thick cum. His thumb came down to rub your clit speedily, and you came a lot quicker this time. The both of you mewled sentences that made no sense as your juices mixed together.

Rafe’s lips were attached to yours in a second as you writhed under him. Your bodies were still hot, and he was still inside you. But you were okay with it— more than okay with it. You felt complete.

“I was so fuckin’ stupid to wait so long,” Rafe chuckled against your lips.

You smiled and loosened your grip in his hair. Now your hands softly ran up and down the back of his neck making him shudder. You melted as you felt his cock soften inside of you. It was such an intimate moment.

“Hm,” you licked your lips. “Lots of lost time to make up for, right?”

Rafe snickered and pecked your chin. “I just came inside you, and you’re already thinking about the next time?”

“Oh, yeah.”

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Thank you for reading :))

Just gotta show you that I’m the one II

RafeCameron x Reader

In which you kiss Rafe during a game of spin the bottle, and he can’t seem to leave you alone after.

wc: ~7.2k

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Friday evening, 5:47 PM

L/N Residence

Emotional Status: Manic, in theory. Well functioning, in practice.

You were getting ready for a special occasion. Well, this may just be the special occasion because you never perceived a world in which you'd be doing this. Like, seriously. Not even in an alternate universe where Rafe didn't grow up taking kids' lunch money and stuffing them in lockers. Okay, you don't know about the second part, but you were almost certain about the first. Almost.

How Rafe had managed to wear you down so quickly with his infuriating (appealing) gifts and his shameless (smooth) tongue was beyond you. But nonetheless, here you were, staring at your closet with a scrutinizing gaze, wondering what to wear.

See, if you got all dolled up and actually tried, Rafe would see it as a good sign— that his tactics worked. And the stubborn part of you didn’t want him to feel that satisfaction because your affection, and attention, can't be bought.

What a pickle.

Oh! To add onto the list of never-ending stressors that appeared within a week because of Mr. Cameron— you didn't know where you were going. You'd quickly agreed to going out so he'd leave you alone, but didn't get to question him about what the date would even entail. What if he was taking you to some underground BDSM club where he'd pull a Christian Grey and introduce you to his freaky side? And before you know it, you're signing some contract and entering his Red Room. Or maybe he'd just take you to the middle of nowhere and murder you. Can never be too sure with men.

Or maybe, I'll have a good time. Maybe he'll surprise me.

Knowing Rafe and his loose purse strings, he wouldn't have any issue taking you to a fancy restaurant which would require you to dress to the nines. However, there was also a possibility he'd try to woo you by putting on some show and planning a picnic or something. Packing food and blankets, and setting it up near the lake like a sweet man from the country side.

None of your assumptions would get you anywhere so you decided to ask the source.

Jeans and a t-shirt it is.

You grabbed a pair that was a little tight, but were the only ones without a tear in the place where the sun doesn’t shine. And… a simple black tee. To make it look like you’d put in just the right amount of effort, you pulled out your black leather jacket. Was it summertime? Yes. But were you delusional enough to believe the night would get colder? Also yes.

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“Wow— you… you look— not bad.” Rafe saves himself at the last second, and throws you a teasing chuckle.

You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, “and you. I almost didn’t recognize you without shorts on.”

To be honest, he looked great. Black button up with black jeans made his eyes pop. It was his colour, but you couldn’t tell him that! You couldn’t admit that it was hard to make eye contact with him because of how nervous he was making you.

He laughs, genuinely, which had you caught off guard as happiness was a rare look on him. He was always fucking brooding. You didn’t even know he was capable of the humour and the laughter and the, honestly, tasteful gifts. How had you not caught wind of any of this before? Did he not do this for people often?

“Well, I am trying to impress you. And I thought ditching the shorts was a start.” He states bluntly while staring at you closely.

Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You looked so effortlessly beautiful. He never thought of jeans and a t-shirt as anything appealing, but on you? Absolutely breathtaking. He took note of your hairdo too. You’d pinned a few of your front strands to the side— the strands that usually framed your face. But it was so so pretty. He could see you fully and he wished he could just pull out his phone and take a photo. Not in a creepy way! But in a I-never-want-to-forget-you-like-this way.

You chuckled awkwardly at his comment and looked down so he wouldn’t notice the blush creep up on your cheeks. “Good call.” Clearing your throat, you gather the strength to meet his gaze. “So where are we going? Can you tell me now?”

He stares off into a space and contemplates for a moment before sighing and nodding. “I was thinking—because it’s so hot these days— we could cool down with some ice-skating.” He was the one avoiding your gaze now. “They have a couples skate thing at the Polar Rink— thought it’d be fun. And- and then I thought we’d go watch the sunset by the lake near my place. Then… then we could stargaze.”

Your eyes softened and looked at him in awe. Before today, you’d never understood the expression “heart melted”, and now you were swimming in it.

He was shy?

He was nervous?

He was so sweet.

Rafe noticed the lack of response and hesitantly lifted his head to look at you. Fortunately, his worries fizzled when he saw you standing there with a soft smile.

“Let’s go then.”

He agrees and turns around to walk off your porch as you shut the door behind you. Rafe reaches his truck in your driveway and opens the passenger seat door for you.

His change in behaviour gave you whiplash— one second he was cocky, and the next he was a gentleman. But you were only hanging out with him—or, going out with him— so you wouldn’t have to see him again. For tonight, you could put up with a little inconsistency.

After thanking him, you buckle yourself in and Rafe comes around to sit behind the steering wheel.

He starts up the car and the engine comes alive. Before pulling out, he connects his phone to the aux— which had you a little annoyed. For some reason—due to his chivalrous façade— you expected him to let you choose the music. And the mere fact that he connected his phone had you shaking your head, internally.

However, you realized you had jumped to conclusions when he played a song you knew all too well.

“You like The Strokes?” The words leave your mouth like they couldn’t wait to be said.

He chuckles and begins reversing out of the driveway. Turning his head to check the rear of the car, he responds, “no. But you do.”

A deeper blush spreads across your cheeks, and you look out the window so he wouldn’t be able to see.

The drive was short and peaceful. You loved going on drives with your friends and, now, Rafe. Usually, It was rare for you to be in the passenger’s seat as you were somehow always the designated driver. So this felt new—but, good. Like you didn’t have to be the alert and responsible one right now. You could just be. And that realization had the permanent crease between your brows vanishing.

“You okay?” He glances to you and then back on the road. “You’re too quiet— not trying to jump out of the car or anything.”

You giggled— yeah, giggled. You were in a good mood.

“I’m soaking in this rare occurrence.” You turn to him and continue, “I’m always the driver. So this is pretty sweet.”

He nods in acknowledgement and asks, “yeah? You don’t like driving?”

Shrugging, you respond, “I don’t hate it, but I guess I just prefer to be driven. It’s like—uhm— like one less thing to worry about.”

You notice the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk and you braced yourself for some cheesy line.

“We’re meant for each other then. I love being behind the wheel.” He glances at you to see your reaction and laughs when you scrunch your nose in faux disgust.

He turns back to the road and takes a left.

“Is there a specific reason you love it? Or…” you think out loud.

After a moment, Rafe answers. “I guess I like being in control. Sitting in the passenger seat makes me feel like— I don’t know— like it’s out of my hands. You know?”

You noted that he wasn’t very good with words which, at that moment— maybe because your favourite song was playing— you found quite endearing. It was probably too soon to tell, but it seemed like you two complimented each other well.

You were good at communicating and expressing your feelings. Sure, vulnerability was difficult and you often isolated yourself before speaking about what bothered you. But, in the end, your point of view was always clear and concise.

Meanwhile, Rafe was all over the place. His emotions were never clean-cut— always overlapping, and often steering him. He didn’t have the time, or patience, to pinpoint what he felt.

But you were patient, and you were kind. You would never make him feel like a burden.

Both of you knew that was the case. It was like an unspoken understanding.

“Really? I think I’m the opposite— the responsibility scares me. Like being in charge of people’s safety.” You respond and look at him even though he was staring ahead.

“But isn’t it worse to have your safety in someone else’s hands? Like what if they make a mistake?” His eyes meet yours for a few seconds and he feels his heartbeat speed up. Which was weird because you weren’t even discussing anything worth being flustered over.

“I think…” you pause for a moment and figure out how to word your opinion. “I’m more forgiving when others make mistakes. So if someone hurts me… I would forgive them easily. But if it was the other way around… I couldn’t live with myself.”

He pulls into the parking lot and stops the car in the nearest stall. Turning to you with a curious look, he asks, “Are we still talking about driving?”

“I… I don’t know.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at your confused expression.

“Shall we?”

You nod and he quickly walks around to the passenger seat to open the door for you. Feeling like a little shit, you open the door for yourself and Rafe gasps, offended.

“What’d you do that for?”

You shrug and hop off his truck. He closes the door behind you.

“I’m perfectly capable of opening a door, Mr. Cameron.”

The two of you begin your walk off the parking lot, and towards the ice rink.

“I know that. But I still wanted to do it for yo— Mr. Cameron?” He quirks a brow at you. The pouty expression, now, a smirk.

You smile like you were up to something. Some would see that as your poor attempt at flirting— maybe you were enjoying this one-time date a little too much.

When did that happen?

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask and nudge him a little with your elbow. This was the first time you’d touched him— well, besides when you made out with him.

“I don’t not like it.” He matches your energy, but tries to ignore the feeling in his stomach that arose when you touched him. He hadn’t felt that way since Mady Foster lended him a pencil crayon, in kindergarten.

Is that what love is? Does it make you feel like a child again?

He holds the door open for you and you walk inside the arena, immediately feeling the cold air embrace you. Compared to the thirty degree weather outside that had you sweating through your makeup, this chilly air was absolute bliss.

Since it was a couples skate night, Rafe thought that the two of you should act like a couple. He didn’t voice this brilliant idea to you beforehand, which is probably why you flinched when he placed his hand on your lower back.

However, Rafe doesn’t frighten easily so despite your shock, he doesn’t move his hand. Instead, he quickly guides you over to the rentals booth in an attempt to distract you from the whole thing.

The two of you get your rentals and walk over to the nearest bench to put on the skates. Rafe quickly tied his skates up, slipping the laces around the eyelets at speeds you'd never seen. Meanwhile, you were going back and forth from the bench and the rentals booth, never feeling satisfied with the size. Rafe just stood there, now almost a foot taller, and watched you in amusement. Finally, you settled on a pair of figure skates that did squeeze your toes but, hey, at least they looked cute.

Slowly, you looped the laces through the eyelets, but out of frustration that they weren’t tight enough, you kept starting over. Rafe sighed and walked over, unable to watch you struggle any longer.

"Do you need a hand, or is this like the door opening thing again?" He stands in front of you, making you tilt your head all the way up to look at him like he was Gulliver.

"It's like the door opening thing, but I could use your speed." You smile shyly.

He chuckles at your inability to ask for help and then kneels before you. His hands reach out and bring your foot up to his thigh to rest, so he can tie the laces properly. The whole thing had you sweating like you were outside in the sun again. You noticed the blade of your skate was digging into his upper thigh, but he didn't seem to mind at all. A little bit of pain was worth all this— pretending like you were his.

He quickly tied the laces, tight and secured, and then patted the sides of your calves to signal that you were ready. The patting made you snap out of the trance you were in, internally cursing at yourself for getting all aroused over a fairly small thing.

You clear your throat and thank him under your breath.

On your way to standing up, you gripped the bench tightly, afraid you'd fall over.

Rafe was already walking towards the ice rink when he realized you weren't following him. With furrowed brows, he turned around only to see you hunched over, using the benches for support as you moved warily.

His laugh cut through your intense focus, and had your head snapping up to see him.

"Did you forget how to walk?" His laughter begins to dwindle as he walks towards you with his arms out for you to grab.

You stand up straight on your own, but end up clinging to him in a flash— hands wrapped around his forearms.

"No. But I forgot how to skate." You say through gritted teeth.

Rafe chuckles and responds, "how can you forget how to skate? It's like riding a bike."

"Well, if forgetting is the same as never learning, then that's where I stand."

His brows jump in surprise. "You don't know how? Then why'd you let me bring you here?"

"You never told me you were bringing me here! I just found out like twenty minutes ago and by then, I thought it was too last minute to say anything!" You snapped and whisper-yelled until you were red in the face.

Expecting Rafe to snap back at you with anger, you mentally prepared yourself for an early end to the date, and a painfully silent car ride home. However, Rafe's expression was as calm as ever, which had you wondering if he really had changed. Sure, it had been years since high school, but this complete one eighty was hard to wrap your head around.

"You still could've told me. I had a bunch of back-up options up my sleeve." He spoke with the gentlest voice, in contrast to your high-pitched one.

With a huff, you reply, "I didn’t know if you were the kind of person who gets upset when their plans get derailed."

Rafe tilted his head and spoke softly again. "I can be. But not tonight— not with you."

Your eyes meet his, finally. His words sent a tingle up your spine.

Not with you.

You.

Me?

"Come on." Rafe takes your left hand in his, then steps to your side, slipping his right arm around your waist. He holds you close like a harness—and in that moment, you trust him completely. "I'll hold you," he says softly. "We’ll skate together."

Every word you knew had vanished from your vocabulary, so you just nodded.

Rafe walks you off the rubbery floor and steps onto the ice first. He quickly turns to face you, taking both your hands to help you onto the rink.

Your right foot touches the ice and immediately wobbles beneath you. Your upper body tilts back, and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact—but it never comes. When you finally open your eyes, you find Rafe holding you by the waist, firmly. He’d stuck to his word.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

He nods, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

Out of frustration, you whine, "I think I'll just have to stay here. The ice hates me."

Rafe stops holding in his laughter. He shakes his head, "okay, close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just close your eyes." He repeats.

So you do. Shutting them tight, making sure no light peaked through.

Although you couldn't see anything, you did feel yourself being lifted off the floor. Eyes fluttering open in a instant, you realized that Rafe was picking you up and placing you on the ice with his bare hands. You yelped and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hanging on for dear life.

He carefully brought you down and onto the ice, but your arms stayed around him. You stood there for almost a minute, that’s what it felt like anyway.

“Y/N?” Rafe’s voice was muffled by your neck.

“Hm?”

“You can let go now.” He laughs softly.

You opened your eyes again and slowly let go of him. His palms were still on your waist keeping you from slipping over.

You brought your hands to his shoulders and felt like they were being glued down because you couldn’t bring yourself to stand on your own.

“Okay, first of all, you need to bend your knees. That’ll keep you from falling over.”

You nod and do as he says. Surprisingly, he was right and you were impressed that he immediately solved your problem. It made you feel fuzzy inside because it made you feel like he was taking care of you. There really was no way to say that without wanting to scream from embarrassment, but it felt… really good.

To put things into perspective, you were quite the independent woman. Your parents raised you to be that way and sometimes, you think, you took it a little too far. In relationships, you’re so focused on keeping yourself from depending on others even the slightest, that it almost comes off like you don’t need the other person. Maybe it’s to keep yourself from being a burden— which is how you saw it at times. You always felt that no one would want to care for you, so you do it for yourself. A similar thing occurred in your last relationship. You didn’t want to overwhelm Nathan, your ex, and so you kept him at a distance. So much so that he went ahead and slept with other people. Nothing justified cheating, but that relationship made you wonder if you really were the problem.

“Y/N? You okay?” Rafe’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Wha- huh? Oh, yeah.”

“Alright, knees are bent. You think we can start moving now?” His tone was sweet— it didn’t make you feel rushed.

“Okay— okay. Just… don’t let go yet, okay? I’m also gonna keep clinging and- and if you get annoyed— well, you can’t because this is your fault.” You felt pathetic, but also saw the humour of the situation.

Rafe laughed again. You’d memorized that sound by now, which was funny because before all of this, you didn’t even know what he looked like with a smile.

“I have unlimited patience for you, my love.” He professes dramatically.

Unfortunately, those godawful words made you blush like crazy. And that’s not what tonight was about, so you took a deep breath and dropped your hands from his shoulders.

Rafe knew exactly what you were doing, but he couldn’t imagine a world where the two of you weren’t physically close. And desperate times called for desperate measures. So with his hands on your waist, he began skating backwards—pulling you with him—without warning.

You yelped, your hands flying to his shoulders—fingers digging in so hard he could already picture the crescent-shaped red dents on his pale skin. Which Rafe liked, because the marks were proof that tonight was real and not just a wonderful, wonderful dream.

He smirked at your frightened expression and continued dragging you down the rink.

A string of “Are you insane?” and “Oh my God!” and “Rafe, I’m going to kill you!” followed your little joyride of fear across the ice. Rafe just stared at you in amusement, finding your threats more endearing than intimidating.

When you finally reached the other end, he took pity and brought the both of you to a halt.

You let out a strangled breath and muttered, “That was… blasphemy.”

He snickered, lifting a hand to your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. Your anger melted in an instant, and you were reminded—yet again—that physical touch was your love language. Oh, it was definitely at the top of the list.

Looking into his eyes properly for the first time that night, you almost got lost in them. That, and the soft stroke of his thumb on your cheek, was making you dizzy.

“You did so well though,” he murmured, leaning in so you could hear him clearly over the love songs echoing through the arena. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t like that.”

His words replayed in your mind, and you weren’t sure if you had a dirty mind, or if he just spoke in constant innuendos—but your brain immediately flashed to an image so vulgar, you were the one guilty of the blasphemous act.

“It was fine.” You grumbled.

Rafe couldn't help himself and leaned forward to press a quick peck to your forehead. It was so fast, you didn’t even have time to register it—and when you finally did, he was already hauling you back around the ice rink, ignoring the shouts of protest erupting from your mouth. He pretended to sing along to the slow jams playing, and before you knew it, the two of you were back on the rubber floor.

Rafe had decided you’d had enough ice-skating for one night. As much as he could watch you struggle forever and hold onto him for eternity, he wanted you to enjoy yourself—and right now, your hair looked like it was turning grey from fear.

"Here you are," Rafe places a plastic tray of an assortment of roller rink food in front of you.

He'd sent you off to sit down at a bench near the concession stand, since you complained about your sore feet, while he bought you two some cheap sustenance. If it were up to him, he'd take you to some private rooftop with a personal chef who would cook anything you could name, but he had a feeling if you found out how much it costs, you'd jump off the building.

You looked at the two hotdogs, poutine to share, and two cups of pop, and your stomach growled.

"Thanks," you reach for the wooden fork and stab a fry, "see? We're making memories on a budget. Has this made you see the world differently?" You pop a fry into your mouth.

Rafe lets out a short laugh and shakes his head. "No."

Rolling your eyes, you take another bite. "So, is this— me— living up to your expectations?"

He furrows his brows and takes a bite of his hotdog. "What do you mean?"

"You know... you were so excited when I agreed to this, finally. I'm just wondering if you still feel the same... or if you've realized this wasn't what you thought it would be." You stare at the tray, and take another bite, scared of what his answer could be.

Rafe puts his hotdog down and tilts his head in confusion at you. "I'm having a good time." He leans forward and uses his hand to push back the sleeve of your jacket so it wouldn't touch the poutine. "And also, tonight is about you. So the real question is: am I living up to your expectations?"

You felt yourself heat up at his thoughtful action. He did it so casually, without thinking, you kept staring at your wrist still feeling the ghost of his fingers.

Clearing your throat, you respond, "you should be proud to learn that you're exceeding them."

A genuine smile crosses his face and he almost giggles. "Yeah?"

You nod slowly and take a sip of your pink crush. "Yeah, congratulations."

"I'm surprised. I honestly thought I'd fucked up when I found out you didn't know how to skate."

"Well, it was my fault that I didn't tell you." You admit your shortcoming.

He disagreed right away and then added, "next time, don't hesitate to let me know."

You quirk a brow and playfully smirk at him, "next time, huh? You're awfully confident."

"You're the one who said I exceeded your expectations. That sounds to me like you're dying to see me again." Rafe kisses his teeth and leans back in the booth.

"I don't know..." You trail off and speak in a singsong manner.

"Oh, come on. What's it gonna take, hm? All I've done is kiss you — really well, might I add— showered you in gifts, and now, taken you on a date which, so far, you're enjoying." He grabs your fork and takes a bite of the poutine.

You looked up at him with a more serious look. "Well, I told you I didn't like gifts."

He sighs, and props his chin on his palm with his elbow resting on the table. "Why?" He asks, exhausted.

"Rafe," you shake your head and then decide to continue, "okay, look." You lean in too, ready to launch into a monologue. "It's like... okay, it's like a pool."

"A pool?"

"Yes, like we're both in two separate pools. Swimming pools. And you keep pouring your water into my pool because— well, I don't know why. But you do it. And so I'm here in my pool and it's getting more and more full and you're happy and I'm... good too. Then, one day you look around and wonder hey, how did I end up in a kiddie pool? Like the water level is so low, you're like dry— completely dry—"

Rafe's eyes followed your every hand gesture, your lips, your words. He was absolutely enamoured in that moment.

"— and then you look over at me, and my super full pool. It has you thinking that you gave me so much and I didn't return it, so now you want it all back. But me? I've gotten comfortable with my overflowing pool, and I can't fathom a life without it. But I have to give you back your water. And now I’m in my shitty pool by myself for the rest of eternity.”

You took a deep breath when you finished your rant. It was quite a surprise, too, that Rafe didn’t interrupt you once— no he listened closely to the whole thing. Hesitantly, you look up to meet his gaze— afraid that he would be judging you harshly. But to your relief, he just picked up his hotdog again, and took a bite.

“Gets pretty busy in that head of yours, huh?”

“You have no idea.” You reach for another sip and continue, “but you get what I mean right?”

He takes a moment to think. “I guess so. But you have to realize that if the other person—me— wants to do these things for you, the pool getting shallower means nothing. And besides, in my case, the pool isn’t just some ordinary pool— it’s never not full. So take a deep breath and relax.”

You swallowed your bite and leaned back in your chair. “Maybe the pool analogy wasn’t the right one.”

Rafe snickers and speaks up after a few seconds. “So what do you like then? What makes you think oh, he’s the one?”

Your eyes narrow at his question.

“Asking for a friend, of course.” Rafe adds.

You rest your arm on the table and stare at the skate rentals behind him, trying to come up with an answer.

“Uhm…” you gaze at him again. “I don’t really know how to say this without being inarticulate.”

He shrugs, “inarticulate is my middle name. Go on.”

A soft laugh slips through your lips and you nod. “I think if they remain curious about me. No matter how well we know each other— if they still find me interesting enough to always ask for more… I- I’d l… I’d be happy.”

Rafe was taken aback by your answer. He didn’t expect it— he thought you’d say something along the lines of loyalty or honesty. But you managed to surprise him yet again. Oh, how he wanted to kiss you so badly.

He takes a sip of his drink and leans forward again. “Curious? Like… like they ask you lots of questions?”

“Yeah… yeah, but not just for the sake of asking questions. Like they want to know more. Sincerely.” You avert your gaze again. “I think I’ve just been with, or around, people who don’t really give a shit about me.” You chuckle to ease the tight feeling rising in your throat. “And I’m always the one carrying conversations and asking others about themselves so when… uhm someone does the same for me, it means a lot. And you’d be surprised at how rare it is. People can be so self-centred.”

God, for someone who says they don’t talk much about themselves, I’m sure not acting like it.

"I get that." He reflects on your words momentarily. "So who are these people who don't care about you?"

You take a deep breath and purse your lips. "Well, from off the top of my head I'd say Nathan." You clear your throat and add, "my boyfriend—sorry— ex-boyfriend."

Rafe's ears perk up. "yeah? What'd he do?" He tries to sound casual and take a bite of the poutine, but anyone could hear the emotion buried in his words.

"What men have been doing since, like, the Stone Age probably." You adjust in your seat. "Cheated."

Rafe's eyes widen. He couldn't believe anyone would want to cheat on you. You. You were beautiful inside and out. And he never said that about anyone.

To put it simply, Rafe didn't like people. So the way he acted with you was truly a rare sight.

"What a bitch." Rafe exclaims. "Does he live around here? Do I know him?"

You laugh and feel warmth creep its way into you. When things ended between you and Nathan, you took the high road. You didn't yell at him, didn't argue, didn't key his car. No, you just stopped talking to him and blocked his number. You didn't even badmouth him to your friends because, well, what was the point? It wouldn't make him un-cheat.

But this? Rafe calling him a bitch was like music to your ears. It's what Nathan deserved.

"No and no." You tilt your head. "Why though? You gonna beat him up for me?" Another poor attempt at flirting on your end.

Rafe nods, "I could if you wanted me to. Just say the word."

You blush and shyly smile at him. "I'll keep that in mind."

He pipes up again, "also, you said cheating is what men have been doing for a long time— I just wanna clear my name." He pretends to straighten his tie. "I've never done that."

Crossing your arms, you reply incredulously, "really? I don't know if I believe you."

He gasps, faking offence. "No it's true! Swear on... I don't know, but I swear." He then adds a little embarrassed, "but... because I want our epic Shakespearean romance to begin with honesty—"

You giggle.

"— I've never really been in a proper relationship. But my casual flings have never had any overlap."

"Wow, what a man you are."

"I know right."

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"Sorry, where are we going again?" You turned to him as he drove through an empty intersection.

The two of you wrapped up your evening at the ice rink and moved to the second event of the night.

Stargazing.

It was supposed to be watching the sunset, but your chit-chat at the rink ran a little long, and when you left the arena, it was dark out. Rafe was visibly bummed and you felt a little guilty for talking his ear off and wasting time. However, he read your mind and proceeded to reassure you that it wasn't your fault at all. But, of course, you didn't believe him and to cheer him up, you held his hand on the walk back to the car.

He wasn't bummed anymore. And to revel in the moment, he walked as slow as humanly possible, and even pretended to forget where he had parked. You saw right through the act, but didn't mind the feeling of your hand in his.

"The lake behind my house. Or we can just cut to the chase and go to my house?" Rafe says in a teasing manner.

"You're gonna introduce me to your parents on the first date? Are you insane?" You joke.

Rafe was stunned at how quickly you intercepted the shameless line he was setting you up for. Stunned and disappointed. He was obviously going to hint that the night should conclude in his bedroom. And then he'd turn and watch you blush for him. Maybe next time.

So he just shakes his head sheepishly, and turns up the radio.

The car came to a halt on top of some grass, and you looked around at the beautiful scenery. It was like something out of a dream. Sure, it was dark— but the moon shone on the lake water and reflected back up to you two. It casted a dim light on your face, along with Rafe's. A beautiful glow, that you wished you could see every time you closed your eyes.

You let Rafe open the door for you this time. And you even let him hold your hand on the small walk down to the water. The walk was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. You both listened to the sound of each other's breathing, along with the crickets in the distance.

He stopped in his tracks when you two reached his favourite spot. Right by the water, but surrounded by a few trees and the softest grass you'd ever seen.

You let go of his hand to tie your hair back.

"It's nice, right?" Rafe smiles and goes to sit down on the patch of grass. He nodded his head towards the ground, asking you to do the same.

"Very." You accept his invitation and sit down too.

After a few seconds, he speaks up again, a little nervous this time. "I uh... I haven't enjoyed anyone's company this much uh... in a while." Uncomfortable with the vulnerability, he picked up a pebble and through it in the lake.

You grin at his words. The feeling was mutual, but for some reason you didn't mention that. You were still a little skeptical of Rafe, even though tonight proved you otherwise many times. The image you had of him before this week was just so so different than what you had seen now. It would take a while to change the way you viewed him, but you were well on your way.

"I am quite the upgrade from Topper." It was a joke, to ease the growing tension between you two— sexual tension.

He snorts and leans back until he's laying flat on the ground. So you join him.

Stargazing: check.

You both laid side by side and stared at the night sky. The light pollution usually got in the way of seeing the stars, but since you were on the outskirts of town, the sky was full of twinkling lights. It was breathtaking.

"I'll take the gifts back." Rafe's voice cuts through the sounds of the outdoors. "I'm— I should've listened to you. I- I know I can come off too strong sometimes." He didn't look at you as he spoke— instead, speaking out into the night. Confessing to the moon.

"It was a sweet gesture. You have great taste." You comfort him and chuckle softly. "I just—y'know? Pool water."

He nods, "yeah." Then he adds, "and also uh... if you don't wanna see me again, it's okay. No pressure."

Your brows furrow and you turn your head to the side to look at his face. You attempted to read his expression, but he was too stoic.

Flipping over so you were laying on your stomach, you prop yourself up on your elbows and face him properly.

"Where did all the confidence go, Mr. Cameron?" A playful smile rested on your lips.

He brings his arms up and rests his head on his forearms— accentuating his biceps. Your eyes quickly took them in, then returned to his face.

He was looking at you now too.

“I don’t know. I guess I used it all up during our courting stage.” He chuckles awkwardly.

You nod with a quiet ahh.

"Besides, I thought you weren't into that." Rafe says shyly, "you seemed pretty mad over text."

You purse your lips and shake your head. "I was just a little freaked out... by the attention."

He quirks a brow and asks, "my attention?"

"Yeah," you pause. "It was new and unexpected. I mean I thought the presents were initially from Caleb," you exclaim.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and holds back a laugh. "I know... I was overheard your conversation that day at the Wreck."

Your eyes widen and you lightly slap his chest. "And you didn't say anything?"

He giggles at the sensation and responds, "it was entertaining! And I thought the mystery would be... I don't know? Romantic."

You kiss your teeth and scoot closer to him. "Well, it wasn't."

Rafe deflates slightly and mumbles an apology.

"But tonight— that was pretty romantic."

"Yeah?" He feels better and lifts his head to bring one of his hands to stroke your cheek.

You let him. Actually, you do more—you lean into his touch.

"Yeah... I really like our conversations. And you put thought into the whole night which I really appreciate." You lift your own hand and place it on top of his as it rests on your cheek.

You wanted him to laugh, but he just stared at you like he was picturing your whole life together. One bedroom apartment during college and then after graduation, you'd move into a house. That he buys for you, of course. A dog, too. You'd host dinner parties that would start in the living room, and end in the backyard with a wine in hand as you admired the new patio he built. You'd hug your friends goodbye and make plans for the next one. Then he'd pull you into his arms, impatiently, because he missed you all night and he couldn't resist the red lipstick you had on. You'd tell him you were tired, and he'd shush you with a million soft kisses. Rafe would walk you to the bedroom and help you undress and take you to be—

"Rafe?" You tilt your head. "You okay?"

He snaps out of his idyllic daydream and nods his head. "You look really beautiful tonight. I was just joking around earlier... but I wish I didn't."

You smile and rub soft circles on the back of his hand with your index finger. Leaning in, you whisper, "and you look really fucking hot." You giggle at his widening eyes. "I thought that the second I saw you."

Rafe didn't know what to do with himself. He knew he was blushing all over, and was relieved you couldn't tell in the darkness.

"So then I'm assuming— and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong— you do want to see me again?"

You scoff dramatically and reply, "it really pains me to admit— but, yeah. But if we go ice skating again, you will never—"

You were interrupted by Rafe's lips on yours. He'd sat up and leaned down to kiss you as you laid on your stomach. It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable, yet, perfect. He noticed your initial surprise which he thought was adorable, and then when you moved your lips, he felt like he was on fire.

Without breaking the kiss, you slowly rose until you were kneeling on the grass.

The two of you tasted each other's lips like they were made of taffy.

He brought his other hand to rest on the back of your neck as he pulled you closer, like that was even possible. Your hands cupped his cheeks like the first time you two had done this, and Rafe moaned breathlessly into the kiss, just like the first time.

You were the first to pull away which caused Rafe to groan in protest, but it died down when you pecked the tip of his nose.

"It's late," you whispered inches away from him.

"I know." His breathing was uneven, and he was having a little trouble thinking straight with the rising situation in his pants.

But he was a gentleman— or at least he could try. Because he really liked you and all he wanted was for you to feel the same. So, tonight, he'd push his selfishness and impatience away, and focus on you. A kiss was enough for the night. If you wanted more next time, he'd gladly provide it. But he'd never pressure you.

"Drive me home?" You ask and kiss his bottom lip.

He closes his eyes and whines internally when you pull away.

"Y/N?" His voice came out a little desperate. "I don't want tonight to end."

Your heart melted at his words. "It has too." You lean in and kiss his cheek. "Or else I won't be able to take you out for breakfast tomorrow."

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So sorry for the wait, and thank you so much for reading!!

Tags <33: @pogueee @moomoo-17 @vanessa-rafesgirl @drewsphswife @scne-vampire @sturniolo1trips @lia-wyllt @x-angel-o @swhistledown @v1h-lin0 @444xkyi

Also, fun fact lol my "Make me feel" Patrick fic was initially going to be about Rafe, but then I decided to change it last minute.

Just gotta show you that I'm the one I

RafeCameron x Reader

In which you kiss Rafe during a game of spin the bottle, and he can't seem to leave you alone after.

wc: 7.1k

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The bass of the music made your whole body vibrate with adrenaline— that and the alcohol. It was the first party of the summer yet, everyone celebrated like it was the last. You rarely showed up to things like this, but after a difficult semester and a tough breakup, you figured you deserved to let loose. That’s what you kept telling yourself—to drown out the badgering thought that if you’d just been good enough, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself cheated on.

You shake your head like you were trying to get the thoughts to fall from your ears, and gulped down another Jell-O shot. Your fourth one of the night.

When you set the shot glass down, your arm was yanked and your body was being dragged over to the door leading down to the basement.

“Soph, where’re you taking me?” You giggled at the end of your question, which was confusing because nothing was funny. But you heard from friends that when you got drunk, it was a laugh fest.

“Basement— they’re playing spin the bottle.” She held you tight and guided you down the stairs. Leaning closer to whisper in your ear, she says, “maybe I’ll get to kiss Caleb.” She almost squealed with excitement.

Lots of people were laughing and chit chatting as they sat down in a poorly formed circle. You found an empty space next to Topper, who smiled politely at you. At that moment, you remembered that alcohol also made you very affectionate. You didn’t know Topper all that well and you still reached out and pinched his cheek in response. He was taken aback, but didn’t say anything.

“Alright, everyone knows the rules. If the bottle lands on you, you gotta give the spinner a big ol’ kiss. Capeesh?” Kelce announced to everyone, and looked around to make sure they were on the same page.

Nods and hums filled the room and an empty corona bottle was placed in the middle of the circle.

Kelce went first.

Everyone stared at the bottle in anticipation. Some dreading it landing on them, while others prayed to a higher being that they’d get to kiss Kelce. You, on the other hand, just looked up and around the room at everyone since the spinning bottle was making you dizzy.

Cheers sounded through the basement as the bottle finally chose. It landed on Kelce’s ex-girlfriend, Madison. Everyone whooped and laughed at how unbelievably perfect it was. Kelce was in disbelief and Madison looked like she regretted coming to the party. But rules were rules and also, people were too drunk to realize they had free will and could back out.

A perverse smile was slapped across your face, along with everyone else, at the sight of Kelce and Madison leaning in. Their breakup was the talk of the town as neither of them were the type to keep a low profile. The arguments in the streets to screenshots posted all over social media made this whole situation funnier.

The two leaned in and kissed each other for a split second before going right back to their spots. The group booed at the lack of commitment, but the ex-couple didn’t seem to care.

Madison’s turn.

The group once again glued their eyes to the spinning glass bottle. Your eyes wandered and took in everyone’s appearances— just a bunch of horny kooks, and you were no different. It had been a while since you’d got some action— or any proper action. It was embarrassing to admit but, technically, you were a virgin. You’d done everything but the big “P” for penetration— always interrupted. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t miss the closeness. Lips on your lips. Hands in your hair.

"Oh shit! Didn't know we'd get some girl-on-girl tonight!" A voice hollered from across the circle and you tuned back into the game.

Madison's bottle landed on Jade.

It was kind of perfect, actually. The one thing you remembered about Jade was how, one time in high school, you caught her checking you out after gym. You thought a lot about her after that— wondering what the curious stare meant back then.

Seeing her now—unflinching, ready to kiss Madison—confirmed your suspicions, and you mentally patted yourself on the back.

The two leaned in pressed their lips against one another. The crowd cheered and whistled as the girls got deeper into it. Your brows raised slightly as you were surprised at how long the kiss was. It was messy too— you could see a little tongue. Madison was practically swallowing Jade like she was trying to get any trace of Kelce off of her. You took a deep breath and looked away as you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Now that's what 'm talking about!"

The girls pulled away, sitting back down with shy smiles and flushed faces. They avoided each others' eyes and the group nudged them, finding the whole situation funny.

Jade's turn.

She spun the bottle without hesitation and stared at it intensely. She was quite attractive, with her dark hair and piercing eyes—so naturally, everyone was kind of hoping the bottle would choose them. You included. You laughed at the thought. God, I'm drunk.

The bottle began to slow its rotation and finally came to a halt. The loud, boisterous kooks somehow grew even louder and more boisterous. Your eyes trailed from the neck of the bottle to the legs of the person sitting cross-legged, up their torso, and finally to their face

Rafe Cameron.

The reaction of the crowd was understandable.

Rafe, Rafe, Rafe.

What to say about him?

He was the personification of the word "kook". During his teenage years, he was like a tyrant. Most people stayed out of his way because of his unpredictability and short fuse. You always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt considering how he was raised, but he didn't always make that so easy. With all this in mind, it's worth mentioning that now, as an adult, he was doing better. His belligerent days were behind him, and he had calmed down quite a bit. You don't remember the last time you heard of him beating someone bloody. Nowadays, when he'd come back from college, he'd work with his Father during the day, and let loose during the night. Still, you didn't forget about the person he was. No one did. Tensed shoulders and hushed whispers still arose at the mention of Rafe's name, and it would be a while before that changed.

Rafe was nonchalant. When the bottle landed on him, he held up his index and middle finger to motion for Jade to come closer to him. You watched with your Jell-O shot riddled mind— which had you thinking he was very sexy at that moment. Jade licked her lips and leaned forward on all fours— ready for it. Rafe's hand found the back of her neck and he pressed his lips to hers. The room erupted in cheers and you covered your ears at the volume. Your eyes stayed on Rafe and Jade and you shamelessly wondered how it would feel to kiss him. Despite his rough appearance, his lips were soft and pink.

They look delicious.

The kiss was short and clean. Nothing like the one before, and a part of you was surprised. Rafe pulled away first and sat back down, taking a swig of his drink.

Now you were a little intrigued— more alert. Moving your pupils side-to-side, you counted the heads in the circle and rounded up to about fifteen participants. There were also lots more people in the room, just as spectators, and they were at the edge of their seats. There was like a 7% chance that you’d be the one the bottle landed on— slim odds, but not impossible.

“I hope it doesn’t land on me,” Sofia whispers in your ear.

You nodded, even though you couldn’t really hear what she said over the drumroll sounding through the room.

Rafe held the bottle with his left hand and spun it with a sharp flick of the wrist. He stared at it closely. You wondered if he was mentally hoping that it would land on someone specific. There was no way to tell just by studying his face.

Again, the bottle began to slow down in momentum, and everyone knew it was going to choose the next participant soon. It was an exciting feeling— a lot more amplified during this round than the ones before. And that was the power of Rafe.

The bottle stopped spinning.

You looked at it and followed its path. You heard Sofia gasp right next to you.

The bottle pointed right between you and her.

The crowd groaned and then started weighing in on what should be done. Everyone talked over one another trying to reach a consensus.

All this over a game of spin the bottle.

You swallowed and looked across the circle at Rafe, whose eyes were already on you. It made you flinch in surprise and you quickly averted your gaze back to the bottle. You pretended to think about a way to solve the impossible equation.

Hmm, maybe he could spin again?

While you were busy pretending to look deep in thought, Rafe had already made up his mind. Ignoring all the opinions of those around him, he reached forward and shifted the bottle an inch so it was pointing directly at you.

Now you were the one gasping, as Sofia let out a sigh of relief.

Your eyes remained fixed on the bottle as the crowd got rowdy once again. Because this wasn’t as uneventful as a re-spin. No— this time, the bottle didn’t choose you.

Rafe did.

It felt like the first time ever in spin the bottle history for something like that to happen. And that’s why everyone was shouting, cheering, and feeling oh so lucky to be witnesses. Because now there were layers to this game. It raised questions. Like, why did he choose you over Sofia? Or, had he been hoping it would land on you all along?

Whatever it was, you didn’t have time to think about it right now. Because the game was still ongoing.

And this time, Rafe was the one moving closer. He was actually putting in the effort to come to you. This had you slightly impressed and also feeling a little funny. You felt Sofia pat you on the back as a sign of encouragement. So you slowly moved towards him too. Quickly running your tongue over your lips, you scooted forward and he met you before you got to the middle.

Impatient?

Eager?

Coming face-to-face with him was— and you don't say this lightly— breathtaking. You could sit there for days trying to find a flaw, and still come up short. He was simply perfect. With alluring eyes and pink lips, it was no surprise that everyone fawned over him all his life.

The group chanted your names like you guys were athletes or something. It had your veins coursing with adrenaline, and you weren't sure if you enjoyed that feeling or not. You were never used to being the centre of attention, but Rafe was. And that somehow comforted you.

Rafe did everything at his own pace—peer pressure never got to him. Finally, with a curl of his lip, he tilted his head and leaned forward, closing the distance. His lips met yours and he corrected his angle to better feel them. Your initial instinct was to freeze and just let him do all the work. But then you realized that this opportunity wouldn’t present itself again— it’s not like you’d want to be anywhere near Rafe when you’re sober. So why not make the most of it now, and give people a show?

Your blood alcohol content provided you with the boost that you needed. While Rafe took his time to suck on your bottom lip, you brought your hands to the sides of his cheeks and held him like he was the most precious artifact in the world. When he felt your touch, he moaned all breathy into the kiss—just for you to hear. You took that chance to deepen the kiss and swipe the inside of his mouth with your tongue, which he gladly welcomed.

The crowd’s cheers didn’t die down once. If anything, they got louder.

When you felt satisfied with your little risk of the day, you pulled back. Rafe, for a moment, had forgotten where he was and reflexively leaned forward to catch your missing touch. But when it wasn't there, he opened his eyes and noticed you’d sat back down at your spot. Topper reached forward and shook his shoulder, exclaiming, “dude, that was crazy!” Rafe just took a few seconds to catch his breath and then returned to his spot. His fingers kept finding his way back to his lips to settle the tingling feeling that was so prominent there.

You were out of breath too, but the game wasn’t over.

So you reached for the bottle to continue your turn. Grabbing it between your fingers and thumb, you gave it a hard spin and kneeled before it.

It was hard concentrating on the game after what you just did, and your thoughts were now filled with Rafe Cameron. Just as your mind was occupied with him, your eyes wanted to be included too. So you briefly look away from the bottle, and to Rafe, only to see him standing up and leaving. A few people seemed to ask him where he was going, but he just shook his head in response.

It was almost like he didn’t want to watch you kiss someone else.

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The morning, or afternoon, brought the blaring sun and a miserable hangover. You barely stumbled out of your bed at half past noon, and threw up on your way to the shower. The regret set in as the water hit your skin, and you cringed as your mind played a recap of the night.

Images of the party, the solo cups, and the wasted kooks all came flashing through when you closed your eyes. However, they shot open when you remembered the spin the bottle game.

Oh god. I full on made out with Rafe.

You weren’t sure how you felt about the whole situation. Sure, it was just a game and there was no need for further complication. But you weren’t the type to just kiss anyone at anytime. All the people you’d been with were ones you’d intended to pursue, and date, and all that. Seeing as how that was the last thing you wanted with Rafe, it was hard to wrap your head around the act of doing something so intimate with someone who you’d never really talk to again.

Is this what adulthood is?

Is this what hook-up culture is like?

You didn’t care for it. But it made things easier that the only two people you kissed last night were ones you wouldn’t cross paths with again.

After Rafe left, your next kiss was with Caleb. Yes, the Caleb that Sofia was praying she’d get. It made things quite awkward and you apologized profusely to her before, and after, you quickly gave him a peck. You earned boo’s from the crowd but you didn’t really care because your friendship came before all that. So Caleb was off the table, and back to being a stranger.

Rafe is the same too. Before last night, the only time you remembered interacting with him was during chemistry (which he was repeating), when you got partnered up for a lab. It was mostly forgettable besides the part where he made you do the whole experiment and lab report on your own, which had you furious. But he made up for it by presenting it to the class, knowing you were too shy to do so. Oh, and he’d also grab you the goggles and lab coat every time. So… that was quite nice of him.

Nevertheless, that was almost four years ago. Now you two went to different universities and lived different lives. He took the business route, and you took arts— couldn’t be more different. There was nothing to worry about then. Last night would blend in with the rest of the nights to come and, soon, you would forget the feeling of his lips on yours, and the quiet desperation he had for you.

Stepping out of the shower, you felt a lot better. Cold showers were the cure to everything.

You headed down to the kitchen, trying to satiate the growling of your stomach. The fridge was full of leftovers from last night that your mom so kindly packed up for you. It was a shame you were too nauseous to eat anything too heavy. So you stuck to some cold cereal and walked over to the table to begin eating.

A doorbell made you flinch and stand up. You peaked out the window and noticed a van had dropped off a package for you. Maybe it was those shoes you ordered two weeks ago. Finally some good news.

Walking over to the front door you opened it to see the shoes truly had arrived. You bent down to pick up the box and noticed a small envelope leaned against the wooden railing of the porch. It didn’t seem to have come with the shoes. No, they were placed too far apart. And this envelope had your name written on it. Not in any fancy letters, just simple penmanship.

You furrow your brows, pick up both things, and head into the house.

The shoes could wait now that your intrigue was stolen by the envelope. It was black too. You didn’t even know they made them in that colour.

Slowly and carefully, you slid your fingernails under the flap and lifted it, trying your best not to tear anything. It felt expensive.

Maybe it’s an invitation to midsummer.

No, but then Mom and Dad would’ve gotten one too.

After successfully opening it without any damage, you peaked inside. There was just a slip of paper. Not just your common printer paper though— this was thicker. Like card-stock.

Your index and thumb pinched the top of it and took it out of the envelope. One side, the side you saw first, was blank. The other just had a small message written on it.

“That was some kiss.”

You stared at the card and read the words over and over again until you were seeing them in between blinks. Who could possibly send such a thing? And why?

Was it Caleb?

It was Caleb, wasn’t it?

Fuck, this is all so wrong! He’s not yours to claim and you weren’t his. Sofia would be distraught and the thought of that made you feel like you could puke again.

You slam the card down, and grab your car keys. Time to pay Caleb a little visit to nip this in the bud.

All you knew about him was that he recently started working the morning shift at the Wreck. He should still be there if you drove fast enough.

You pulled into the parking space and marched into the restaurant like you were on a life or death mission— which is what it felt like in the moment.

Your head turned from side-to-side quickly as your eyes scanned the place. They zeroed in when you spotted him behind the counter. Your legs moved and dragged the rest of you along. You placed the envelope on the counter and waited for him to notice you.

“Y/N, hey, what can I getcha?” Caleb picked up the plate from the customer before you and walked it over to the kitchen in the back. He returned with a welcoming smile on his face.

“I’m not here to eat, Caleb.” You slid the envelope forward.

He furrowed his brows and looked down at it. “What’s this? Are you trying to bribe me or something?” He chuckles.

Look at him being all oblivious.

You narrow your eyes. “You know what it is. This- you can’t be sending me stuff like this.”

He was speechless, not having a clue of what you were on about. He looked down at the envelope again, then back at you and said, “Y/N, I have never seen this before. Ever.”

You scoff in disbelief. “At least own up to it— I mean come on! I came all the way here and—”

“Dude, I’ve been waiting for my sandwich forever.”

A voice cuts you off and steals Caleb’s attention. You turn to the sound and see Rafe behind you. Quickly you turn back and stare ahead, hoping he didn’t recognize you.

“Sorry, I’ll get on that.” Caleb shot Rafe an apologetic look and turned to you to quietly say, “promise I didn’t send you that.”

You weren’t sure if you trusted him. He could’ve just been too nervous to admit it. Maybe he wasn’t the confrontational type. Who knows?

With a sigh, and your head hung low, you walk out of the restaurant without glancing at anyone else.

If it was Caleb—and you knew it was—then your reaction would’ve made it clear to him that you weren’t into it. Which meant mission accomplished, because you only came to the Wreck to shut this down before it got out of hand.

On the drive home, there was still a feeling of dissatisfaction gnawing at you. Because, although, you were set on Caleb being the culprit, there was something about the sincerity in his voice that made you think otherwise.

He could've been a theatre kid— lots of time to perfect his acting.

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The next morning you were feeling a lot better without the life-altering hangover. To add to the great morning, you also woke up with zero thoughts of the mystery-of-the-card-giver— which sounded like poorly written Agatha Christie novel.

A new summer day came with so much potential, and so much daylight. You planned to run a few errands with your Dad and then catch a movie with Sofia. It was the perfect balance of productivity and relaxation, and you were ready to get on with it.

First on the list was picking your Dad up from the auto body shop a few blocks away. He had to leave his car with the mechanics because of a recent, harmless, fender bender.

You pull on your shorts and a band tee of a group you couldn't name three songs of, and head out the door. You stepped onto the porch and noticed a black box at the last minute, which made you stumble and roll your ankle. "Ow shit!" Leaning against the doorframe, you reached for your ankle and rubbed the area with the shooting pain. After trying, and failing, to massage that pain away, you let go and reached for the box.

You were already annoyed, and you had a feeling that the contents of this box would only exacerbate that. Holding it in your hands, it wasn't too heavy or too big. It was sleek, rectangular, and... velvet? So definitely not cheap.

Great.

You walked over to the porch swing and placed it in your lap.

What is Caleb's game here?

Pressing on the small golden button to make the lid pop up, you were gasping at the sight before you. A gold chain bracelet. You recognized the motifs on it— five of them. All four leaf clover shaped. Black. A vintage Van Cleef.

Holy shit these are like seven thousand dollars.

You felt like you had forgotten how to breathe. Quickly, you shut the box and place it next to you on the swing– afraid you'd break it.

Who in their right mind would carelessly spend money like this?

Caleb was rich, but not this rich. How could he shell out seven g's on you after just a peck that lasted like half a millisecond? He was clearly taking the whole "hopeless romantic" title too far.

Your phone buzzed and you checked to see that your Dad had texted you asking of your whereabouts. Snapping out of the daze, you put the box inside and leave for the auto body shop.

The whole day you felt a strange weight on your shoulders. Your love language wasn't receiving gifts, and so this made you very uncomfortable. The price too! You wouldn't accept it even if it was given to you by your husband of fifty years! (Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But still.)

And the worst part was that you couldn't talk to Sofia about it as it would kill her.

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You got no sleep last night. Just tossing and turning as the bracelet stared at you from your nightstand. Eyeing you with its slick chain and shiny motifs. It was truly a sight to see and you were already starting to feel upset at the thought of parting with it.

So you decided to rip off the bandaid, and give it back to Caleb right away. Did you try it on a few times? Yes. Did you consider just keeping it because it was a gift for you and you deserved something nice? Yes.

But ultimately, the cost of the thing made you too nervous, and returning it was the right thing to do.

You were dressed for the day and ready to head out. Before opening the door, you took a deep breath and mentally prayed that there wouldn't be another expensive present awaiting you. You didn't know what you'd do if there was just a Rolls-Royce in your driveway. Mainly because you wouldn't know how to return it.

Unlocking the door, and opening it just a teeny bit, you peaked your head out and looked down.

Shit.

Another box. This one was square shaped and it had a small envelope attached.

Where does Caleb find the time?

You reluctantly picked it up and brought it inside. A few moments of mental debate began to take place as you couldn’t decide whether to open it or not. What if you got too attached?

The envelope sat there on your coffee table and you were dreading the thought of another flirtatious line. You thought you had been stern with Caleb the other day. And yet here was evidence that your plan had backfired.

You bite the bullet and tear open the envelope without a care this time. Inside was a small note again.

“For your pretty neck.”

You furrow your brows and notice your stomach felt funny. You turn to the box, finally, and open it to find a matching necklace to your bracelet. Oh my. Oh no. Oh, this has gone too far.

Hitting up the Wreck twice in three days was rare for you. You typically didn’t like going there because of potential run-ins with old classmates you felt awkward around. But this was important stuff! You were being showered with expensive jewelry! And it had to stop.

On your angry march into the restaurant, you were mentally rehearsing a long and scary speech you’d say to Caleb. Drop words like “impermissible” and “cease!”

“Didn’t like the necklace, huh?”

You froze. It felt like the Looney Toons when a character was sprinting with smoke coming from their legs and then stop with that horrible tire screeching sound. A chill ran up your back because that voice… that voice didn’t belong to Caleb. No. It belonged to Rafe. You stood there for a few seconds, right in front of the doors. Then you took a deep breath, and turned around to Rafe who was standing behind you.

A million things could’ve been said but for some reason you settled on, “what— uhm— what’re you talking about?”

You flinched from surprise when he let out a short, but genuine, laugh.

“You know what.” He crosses his arms over his chest and quirks his brow at you.

Before you could respond, your phone rang in your pocket. You look down and fish out your phone, shooting him an apologetic look. It was Sofia.

When you glanced back up, Rafe had walked off with Kelce. And you were left with your hummingbird heartbeat and Sofia’s voice ranting about another annoying incident involving her coworker.

Her words went in one ear, and out the other. The only thing you could think about right now was how it was Rafe all along. The note. The jewelry.

For your pretty neck.

What in the actual hell.

You had never thought to suspect him because you didn’t think he actually had… feelings? Like human emotions? Like did he actually want you to like him? Was he capable of longing for a person? Unless that’s not what this was— maybe he just wanted to get laid. In the midst of this busy schedule, he probably didn’t have much time to get his rocks off. And maybe that’s why he needed you. To be there as a stress reliever. And he most likely thought you’d be more than up for it considering the way you kissed him. Like it was your last day on earth. Practically sucking face.

Oh god.

Later that night you laid on your bed and stared at the ceiling. There were too many questions on your mind. Along with those, of course, was a fluttering feeing in your stomach. Because even though you didn’t know his intentions, a part of you felt like you were actually being pursued. Like your attention was a valuable prize. A goal.

But this had already gone too far. And you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing something else on your doorstep tomorrow morning.

Maybe I should just stop leaving the house.

You shake your head and knock some sense into yourself. It’s time to take matters into your own hands! Sure, in person, you couldn’t get a word out to Rafe because of his intimidating presence (and hot face). But you could shoot him a text. There was more confidence behind the screen without his eyes swallowing you up.

You grab your cellphone.

You stood up and paced around your bedroom. Okay, all you have to do is send a strongly-worded text. Words. On a screen. You’ll be fine! It’s just a text! It’s not like he can reach through the screen and touch you, right? That kind of technology wouldn't come into existence overnight.

You took deep breaths as you typed his phone number into your cell. Okay. Okay. You can do this. Words on a screen. Words. Letters.

You stared at the message in horror, but sent it anyway. Why in the world were you texting like you needed a moment to talk about your lord and saviour Jesus Christ?

Why did you get so formal when you texted strangers? He’s going to think you’re the same goody-two-shoes all those years ago in chem class. But also, you didn’t need his approval. To be honest, you wanted nothing to do with Rafe. He was a big guy in many ways— his big personality, big presence, big impact. You weren’t sure you could handle it— or that you wanted to. You were quite content with the small circle of people in your life who helped maintain the peace. And Rafe? Rafe is… havoc.

But you also never knew he could be so smooth. All those years of girls chasing him you never thought it was because he had something to offer.

Clearly, you missed out.

The cell phone flew across the room and hit your headboard, plopping into the thin crevice between it and the mattress. His last text clearly had some sort of physical effect on you to the point where you thought that destroying your phone to bits would be better than responding.

Maybe this was a joke. Like a dare. Oh, that would be so cruel— but that was more up his alley, than being this sweet and generous loverboy.

You didn’t want to keep living in this fever dream, so you decided it was best to just call it a night.

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Day four.

You thought that after the text exchange last night, there would be a pause, a hesitance, a break.

But it seemed that Rafe only decided to crank things up. He didn’t see your texts as a sign to back down—no— he saw them as a challenge— to see how far he can push you; see how much you could take.

Outside your doorstep lay a large bouquet of tulips— red tulips. Knowing a little something about flowers and symbolism from English class during your senior year— these indicated love.

Love.

But maybe it wasn’t on purpose. Maybe they were just the first ones he laid his eyes on.

Attached was another note, and another box.

You shut your eyes tight hoping that you were just imagining things. But when you opened them again, the sight hadn’t changed.

Your muscle memory kicked in, and you carried all the presents inside, into the living room. You laid them on the coffee table and dissected each gift one by one.

The box, first.

It was smaller, like one for a ring. Which scared you— because rings could mean many things. Marriages, promises, friendships. None of which applied to you and Rafe.

The velvet box popped open and your assumptions were proven correct. A gold ring to match the necklace and bracelet. You stared at your reflection in the four leaf clover motif.

Your hands trembled and you took out the note next.

“Don’t freak out… just wanted to compliment the set.”

It was like he read your mind. Yes, it’s not like this was a proposal— no, this was a dire fashion choice.

Today was a busy day for you, unfortunately. You didn’t have time to show up at his door and talk some sense into him.

But then again, he clearly didn’t back down when you called him out. So maybe the best way to deal with this is to ignore him.

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By the fifth day—and your lack of reaction to the ring—Rafe was a little more desperate. After the last gift, he’d been sure you’d reach out and scold him like a Sunday school teacher. Which, disturbingly, he found kind of hot and made a mental note to bring up with a professional. Still, he was Rafe Cameron, and when he wanted something, he’d stop at nothing to get it. Nothing. So your silence didn’t make him recoil—it only enticed him more.

Like clockwork, you opened your front door and looked down on the porch.

A box and a note.

More fucking red tulips.

You picked them up and brought them inside. There was only one vase in your entire house which was already occupied by yesterday’s flowers.

The box contained a pair of earrings to match the set. You almost felt dizzy when you mentally calculated the total cost of all his gifts.

Earrings were your favourite accessory and the longer you stared at them, the harder it was to resist putting them on and strutting around your living room.

Next, the note.

“Playing hard to get?

Makes me want you more.”

You read the words again, and again, and again. They made you feel something— a feeling you couldn’t pinpoint.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, opening up your text messages.

Rolling your eyes, you toss your phone aside and got on with your day. You weren’t the type of person whose life is upended because of some guy.

Yeah, he’s just a guy— a guy who’s given you almost twenty thousand dollars worth of gifts without blinking. A guy who has been complimenting and pursuing you like his life depended on it. A guy who's making you feel wanted for the first time in a long time.

You take a deep breath, it’ll all blow over in a few days.

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Oh, how wrong your were.

You audibly gasped when you opened your front door the next day. It seemed that Rafe had run out of accessory ideas, because all there was on your porch was an envelope full of cash. You jumped and picked it up and brought it inside, immediately locking the door. Flipping it over, you read his messy handwriting you'd become so familiar with.

"Does this count as an atrocity or generosity?"

Smoke was coming out of your ears and you were red with a mixture of rage, humiliation, and fucking butterflies.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you stomping towards your car with all his gifts, or debts, in hand and placing them in the passenger seat. You were slamming doors left, right, and centre trying to make a statement, but when it came to the gifts, you gently wrapped a seatbelt around them. It disrupted your flow, but your bank account couldn't take the hit if anything was damaged.

White-knuckling the steering wheel all the way to Tannyhill, you took shallow breaths and practiced your assertive voice.

Today it would all end. Finally.

When you pulled up to the house, you noticed Rafe was outside, on the grass, speaking into his cellphone. Without a care in the world, you drove up his driveway and noticed his brows shoot up, wondering who you were. Then when you got out of the car, frantically, his brows returned to their spot and a smirk settled across his face.

You slammed the door and walked up to him with the envelope of cash clutched in your hand. He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket, without saying goodbye.

"What is this?" The assertive voice went out the window, and instead you sounded shrill. But Rafe didn't seem to mind at all— if anything, he was intrigued... and a little turned on.

He looked from your eyes, to your lips, and then to the envelope. "Generosity?"

You clicked your tongue in frustration and responded, "this isn't funny! I told you to stop."

He was about to say something, but you cut him off and began pacing on the lawn.

"— and this? Cash? Are you insane? What if someone saw? They'd think I was a drug dealer or something!" You ran your hand through your hair almost ripping it out of your scalp.

"No one would think that." He shrugged.

You stared at him like he grew a second head.

"Is that the only thing you took away from what I said?" The vein in your forehead was about to pop.

"No, I heard the whole thing— but I just had to let you know that you don't give off the drug dealer vibe."

"Oh!" You let out a short, hysterical laugh. "Oh, that is so good to know. I'm so glad we got that cleared up." You exclaimed with biting sarcasm.

Rafe was finding you more entertaining than any TV show he'd binged in the past, well, ever. He could watch you all day and listen to you yell at him for an embarrassingly long time.

He finally spoke up with the question he'd been meaning to ask since the night of spin the bottle.

"Go out with me."

You halted in your maniacal pacing— you were sure you'd dug a hole in his lawn at this point. You looked up at him with eyes basically bulging out of your head.

"What?" Your voice reached a pitch that only a dog could hear.

He chuckled, "go out with me."

He couldn't have been real. What human being was this shameless and infuriating? If you had told yourself last week that the Rafe Cameron would be acting like a lovesick child for you, you'd laugh and laugh until you fainted.

You scoffed in disbelief and replied, "are you serious?" You scoffed again and then just gasped like you were out of breath. "What— you— what? You think you can just buy my affection?"

His amused eyes never left you once. He didn't blink— not wanting to miss even a second of this conversation with you.

"No, but I can buy your attention right? Because," he smiled and stepped closer, "you're here."

Without hesitation, you took a step back and distanced yourself, to Rafe's dismay. But he was patient when it came to you, so he stayed still.

You were speechless. How does one respond to that?

He tilts his head, "cat got your tongue?"

You shake your head, "I only came buy to return everything to you. Nothing more."

With that, you head towards your car and bring out the stack of boxes from the passenger seat. You walk back to him to hand them off. But he doesn't budge, instead just putting his hands in his pockets with a smug look.

What a little—

"Rafe." You say sternly.

He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue.

"Y/N." He mimics your tone.

You sigh and hold the boxes out again, "please. I can't accept them."

He shakes his head, "I bought them for you. I'm not taking anything back."

With a groan you reply, "I don't want them! I- I don't want this— whatever this is— between us."

Rafe was slightly discouraged with your words, but he told himself that you were just desperate, and would say anything to convince him. He knew a little something about that.

Light bulb.

"Okay," he crosses his arms over his chest.

You blink surprised, "okay?"

He nods, "I'll take them back if you go out with me—"

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily, but he continues.

"— just one date. One dinner. And I'll prove to you that you do want this— whatever this is— between us."

"Rafe, there's no point in going through all that hassle—"

"One dinner. And if by the end you still— for some reason— aren't completely in love with me, then I'll leave you alone."

You paused and narrowed your eyes at him. "Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nods.

This is it. This was your shot.

"Deal."

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This was initially supposed to be one-shot but got wayyy too long!! But there will be another part to this soon!

Thank you for reading <33

Everybody loves you, but nobody likes you

RafeCameron x Reader

In which Rafe and JJ get into a fight that escalates—landing Rafe in the hospital. You’re the only one who cares enough to check if he’s okay.

wc: 3.8k

My little offering to @zyafics 's MRGA campaign! I think it's such a great idea, and I love all the works coming from it <3

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“Wait, what happened?” Your words cut through the chaos that glommed onto the pogues.

JJ grabbed the ice pack from Pope, and placed it on his jaw with a hiss. He nodded to Sarah to respond to you.

“JJ and Rafe got into it again.” She said bluntly, like it was an everyday occurrence that shouldn’t be met with the shock that you possessed.

You shake your head quickly. “No- no. The part about the bat.”

“Oh, that.” JJ chuckles sadistically, “yeah, I hit him with a bat— right over the head.” He pointed to the back of his head.

Pope chimed in, “it was a long time coming too.”

You stood there with your eyes widened. “Isn’t that a little too far? I- you guys usually use fists, not weapons.”

Everyone turned to face you with identically confused looks. What were you on about? What did you feel? Concern? Disapproval? Why? It’s Rafe. He makes the pogues life a living hell, and though you’re not a pogue, you still detest his behaviour.

Your relationship with Rafe wasn't complicated because, well, it didn’t exist. The two of you knew each other like all kooks kind of know each other. Nods at parties and waves at the wreck. Nothing more. You were always closer to Sarah because she was your age and Rafe was just her older, short-tempered, brother. You stayed out of his way as he seemed like the guy that loathed everyone. But what you didn’t know was that, out of all of Sarah’s friends, he liked you the most. Nothing crazy— not like he bending over backwards for your attention. But, he did sometimes feel a little fuzzy when you’d acknowledge him.

“What’s the big deal? Are we forgetting about the time he and Top literally hit Pope with golf clubs?” Kiara brought up a good point and you felt bad that you had kind of forgotten about that.

You clumsily respond, “that wasn’t to the head. And it didn’t land him in the hospital.” Satisfied with your reasoning, you shook your head and grabbed your jacket and keys, ready to leave.

Pope scoffed and JJ stared at you with a slightly hurt expression. “Can’t believe you’re taking his side.” Pope commented under his breath.

It made you stop in your steps. “I’m not taking sides— I’ve never been on any side ever. This exhausting rivalry is childish, and it’s making everyone act like fucking murderers.” With that, you left.

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There weren’t many thoughts in your mind as you drove to the hospital. If there were, you would’ve turned around and went home because why in the world were you going to see Rafe? And why was this making you so emotional? Maybe it was due to the substantiality of a hospital. None of these petty fights ever ended in the sirens and stretchers. None that you knew of, at least.

"Name?" The receptionist asked you through a yawn.

You state your name and nervously tap your foot. It was weird. The whole night was weird. You weren’t really sure what you wanted with Rafe, but every time your mind flashed to the image of him lying alone in a hospital room, clutching his head, your worry felt justified. Checking in on him just seemed like the decent thing to do.

This Pogue-versus-Kook war had gone on long enough, and if no one else was willing to cross the line, you would.

"What's your relation to the patient?" she asked, typing away at her computer, unaware of the unintentional difficulty of her question. What’s the word for two people who grew up together, but were also technically strangers?

"Does that matter?" You cringed as you asked.

Her fingers paused on the keyboard and she looked at you with an arched brow. "Ma'am, we have a lot of foot traffic at this moment and Mr. Cameron hasn't informed us of the arrival of any visitors. So, if it isn't pressing, I suggest you come back tomorrow— or see Mr. Cameron when he's discharged—"

“Girlfriend!” You panic and chirp, "I'm his girlfriend."

It felt unnatural to say but it was the only thing you could think of. Sister was out of the question and it wasn't like you could pass as his Mom.

You expected her to call your bluff and send you off, but she was... surprised?

"Oh? Is that right?"

Your brows furrowed as you racked your brain, trying to make sense of her reaction. Rafe was popular—successful with the ladies, too. Sure, the relationships didn't last long, but he never left a party alone.

"Yes," you nod kissing your teeth, "that is right."

She shrugs and continues, "it's just unexpected, that’s all." Leaning over to hand you a visitor tag, she mumbled, "I guess there really is someone for everybody."

"What does that— why do you say that?"

"You tell me. Mr. Cameron was brought here after brawl, that he most likely initiated. He rode the ambulance alone and no one, besides you paid him a visit." She added, "not even his parents."

Your lips parted at her words. It was kind of upsetting when she put it liked that. You swallow, "they're busy, probably."

“No parent should be too busy for their child — especially when that child is in the hospital with a concussion.” She left you with those heavy words and pointed you towards Rafe’s room.

When you reached his door, you paused before knocking— afraid to be faced with anger and rejection. This was Rafe after all. It's not like he was some well-adjusted guy who had no issue showing vulnerability. No, this was the guy who drowned his sorrows with alcohol and drugs. To top it off, he knew you were JJ's friend. Would he hate you just by association?

"I can see you standing out there." His slurred words make you freeze.

With a deep breath in, you entered the room. When his eyes met yours, surprise flashed across his face. He couldn't tell it was you from through the door. His vision was a little blurry too, so that didn't help.

"Hi," you offered weakly. You stayed standing at the doorway with your hands clasped in front of you.

"Y/N?" He adjusted with a groan as he sat up. "I don't get it. Why're you here?"

Okay. He wasn't immediately throwing things at you to kick you out of the room. There was no anger in his voice, or rejection in his tone. Just pure curiosity. You could handle curiosity.

"I heard about what happened." You kept it brief and decided not to mention JJ for now. You knew that people with concussions shouldn't be stressed out, even in the slightest. And you're pretty sure that just the mention of JJ's name would cause smoke to come out of his ears.

After a few seconds he just uttered a, "so?"

You blinked at him, unsure how to respond. “So… so I wanted to see how- how you were.”

He raised his arm to gesture at himself in a how-do-you-think-I-am sort of way, but stopped when a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. He grunted. “Wish I could say ‘you should see the other guy,’ but today, the other guy is me.” His words were bitter, but his face told a different story—a faint curl of his lip. Barely there. But you didn’t miss it.

“Well,” you slowly walk into the room and stand at the foot of the bed, “you win some, you lose some.”

He clicked his tongue as a flicker of anger returned, making you regret not changing the subject when you had the chance. “Yeah, and I intend to win the next.”

His words were met with silence. It’s not like you were going to agree with him, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to disagree as that would lead to an argument. He’d always had a short fuse. His emotions controlled him and, although, you could relate to an extent, Rafe often took things too far.

Even though you stayed quiet, Rafe began to explain himself. “I was lying there, on the ground, while JJ was being carried off by his friends. No one rushed to help me, y’know? Not even my own sister. You realize how shitty that made me feel? Like I was worthless or something.” He turned away from you to look at the window, but you didn’t miss how his eyes blinked rapidly to push down his tears.

All you could do was nod. Not in agreement, but acknowledgement.

He continued, “If you were there tonight, who would you have helped?” His eyes met yours again, filled with desperation—like he just needed someone, anyone, to say they cared. To say he meant something to them.

But you couldn’t give him that, because he was in the wrong. And you wouldn’t be convinced otherwise. You settled on saying, “probably the person who didn’t start the fight.”

He takes in a shaky breath, “oh, so- so JJ.”

You didn’t nod. You didn’t move. Just tried to shoot him an apologetic smile.

“What if it was the other way around?” Rafe questioned again.

“Then I’d help you,” you paused and chuckled lightly, “and scold JJ.”

He mirrored you and weakly laughed too. “Is that why you’re here then? To scold me?”

The mood was lightening so you mentally patted yourself on the back for being the reason. It was eye-opening too because, in your head, Rafe was this belligerent tornado. And maybe it was the painkillers or the concussion, but right now he was being sweet. It made you wonder whether the Rafe you knew was just a persona— a mask he wore to stop others from getting close. And this Rafe was really him underneath it all. A little shy. A little insecure. And very cute.

“I was… but then your concussion ruined my plans.” It was very obviously a joke. However, it did have you facing the sudden realization that you came all the way here because you were worried. About him. Rafe.

Another chuckle escaped him. “Hm… that’s disappointing. I would’ve loved to see you really lay into me.” His smirk, this time, was more clear.

A chill ran up your spine. It was interesting how even after getting hit in the head with a bat, Rafe couldn’t stop himself from attempting to flirt with you. He’d act like this for anyone. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Be careful what you wish for,” you snicker, trying (and failing) to sound smooth. “I can be really scary.”

Rafe adjusted on the bed to lay down again. He rested his head against the pillows to get a little comfortable. When he found the right position, he patted the small space on the bed next to his thighs, inviting you closer. Your eyes widened momentarily because you weren’t sure if you were reading him right. He noticed and softly nodded.

So you walked over to the bed and almost stumbled in doing so. Almost. Sometimes when you thought about yourself and exactly what you were doing, you’d make mistakes. And the way his eyes followed your every step only made you more nervous. This was Rafe, your thoughts kept screaming. You’d barely ever had a conversation this long with him. And now that you had, you didn’t want it to end.

When you took a seat at the edge of his bed, he shifted his legs to give you as much room as he could. You pursed your lips and scooted a little further. When you’d imagine how you looked from outside your body, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Rafe laying down, and you sitting with him. Like you were actually his girlfriend or something.

He hummed in satisfaction. “You don’t look so scary up close.” His voice was quieter—not because he didn’t want you to hear him, but because he only wanted you to hear him.

"Thank you." It was the only response you could think of, so you nodded and avoided his gaze. "I guess."

Rafe enjoyed you. Your words, your voice, your mannerisms. The comforting presence you carried that made him all soft. He always thought you were too good for everyone. Not in a snooty way, but in a moral one. No one had anything against you. Except in the recent years with your switching sides and all.

Growing up, you stayed in a little bubble that only had room for Sarah— never branching out due to your introversion. But when one day Pope offered to explain a vector multiplication question to you, you had an itch to befriend him. And so you did. After that, he introduced you to the others, and they took a liking to you too. Since then, you were all joint at the hips.

This all hit Rafe at once, and he couldn't stop his expression from twisting into a scowl. You didn't notice though— too busy hoping he couldn't see the faint blush rising on your cheeks.

It was like a switch was flipped, and he couldn't stop himself from ruining the perfect moment. "You shouldn't be friends with them." He said with slight disgust in his voice.

Your brows furrowed and you snapped your head to look at him. "What? Who?" For a moment you existed in a world where Rafe was just a person who happened to be injured. But Rafe wasn't just a person. He was a kook too, and it seemed like he'd never let you forget that.

"The pogues— fucking JJ." He spat bitterly.

You sighed, exhausted. "Why does it matter to you, Rafe?" Your eyes stared down at your hands in your lap as you mourned the peaceful conversation that ended too soon.

"It matters because you're not one of them. They- they're dangerous. You really wanna be friends with someone who goes around bashing heads in?" He wanted to grab your chin and make you look at him.

"JJ's never done that before." You mumbled.

A sharp scoff makes you flinch. "That doesn't mean he won't do it again! And the fact that he thinks he got away with it this time..." Rafe shakes his head as his voice trails on, "I'm gonna have him locked up just like his Father."

That was the final straw. Without hesitation, you stood up with the intention of leaving and never turning back. There was a reason no one gave a shit about him being in the hospital.

This was a waste of time.

Shock and panic consumed Rafe, and any contempt he held for the Pogues vanished instantly. His body moved before his thoughts could stop him—he sat up and reached forward, desperate to clutch you and keep you there. But the pain you’d distracted him from ripped through him, pulling a strangled groan from his throat. What hurt worse, though, was how you didn’t look back.

"Wait- wait, Y/N." He was breathless. Helpless.

Something about the sound of his voice made you halt in your tracks. "What?" You asked with your back still turned to him.

"Stay," he choked out. "Please."

It wasn't enough. You looked down and chewed on your lip deciding what to do.

Rafe realized he'd do anything to get you to stay— beg you even. And he didn't understand why or even how he felt this way. "Sorry. I just— sorry." He sounded defeated, but sincere.

Apologies didn't mean much to you if there wasn't some change in behaviour to accommodate them. However, you knew Rafe would rather jump off a cliff than admit to his mistakes. So this was a big deal. A big step.

You swallow and turn back around. Rafe visibly looked relieved which had you feeling a little funny. Walking over to his bed, you took a seat again. But not next to his thigh, like earlier, but a lot further down. He felt a sting and had to remind himself that at least you stayed.

You cleared your throat and took the silence as an opportunity to change the topic. Not that you still weren’t upset with him. But there was no point in beating a dead horse. “Do you know when you’ll be discharged?”

Rafe was grateful for how quickly you were able to shift the conversation back to how it was— before he fucked it up. “I'm here for overnight observation, they said. I’ll go home tomorrow.”

You nod at his words. “That’s nice.” Playfully you add, “I’ll get to reprimand you sooner than I thought.”

He laughed, this time more obviously like he wanted you to know you made him happy. It felt a bit like he was overcompensating, but you found it endearing. He wanted to respond and say something like I don’t mind as long as I get to see you again or you’re the only one I’d let do that, y’know? But the words got caught in his throat. And he had a feeling it was for the best because, again, you were too good for him.

“Do you ever miss your old life?” His question surprised you.

“My old life?” You tilted your head.

“Yeah." He nods and runs his tongue across his lower lip to make the chapped feeling go away (you felt ashamed for staring). "I used to see you at the parties— not just mine, but also Topper's." He paused. "Sarah always followed the action, and you always followed Sarah." He chuckles lightly, remembering you back then. He’d see you at those events and almost feel sorry for you—how out of place you looked. It was quite adorable.

Your mind flashed with images of those nights. The nights that turned into mornings. The walk back up your driveway as the sun climbed over the horizon behind you. It was all fitting for the carefree high schooler that you were— keyword being were. When you got to university, you no longer felt the need to pretend to be that person. You enjoyed the quiet. Nights spent with the pogues, sitting around a fire and laughing, was the perfect way to spend your time. You wouldn't want it any other way, and sometimes you wished you'd found them sooner.

"I miss being a teenager, sure. But the rest of it— not so much. I think I'm finally content with where I am and, although you won't be pleased to hear it, I owe a lot of it to the pogues." You smiled softly at the answer.

Rafe felt an unexpected pinch of jealousy at your answer. He wondered if he'd ever had that sort of impact on anyone. If he'd ever changed someone's life for the better. But he came up short.

You noticed Rafe was in his head. He didn't respond to you, so you hesitantly returned the question. "What about you?"

He snapped out of his depressing thoughts, and quirked a brow at you.

You continue, "are you happy with where you are?" You were aware at how heavy and private the question was. But your curiosity (nosiness) overpowered your respect for boundaries.

His gaze was making you feel small. But it was the same for him too. It's like he wanted to impress you, but also scare you like he usually did with others. Right now, though, behind his eyes were millions of thoughts and worries about whether he should actually tell you the truth or not. Who were you to ask him that anyway?

"I don't know." It was all he could offer. He hoped you wouldn't question him further.

"What do you mean you don't know?" You asked without skipping a beat.

He sighed and brought his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. A nervous tick, you thought. "I mean: I don't know." He took a deep breath, "I get high a lot— but you probably know that." Rafe's eyes left yours and landed on the window again. He was embarrassed and didn't want you to seem him this way— didn't want you to see the truth. "And- and then at parties, I get wasted. Golf with the guys is also just an excuse to drink during the day." It felt like he was in confession with a priest. "So I don't have much time to think about whether I'm happy. But I guess that's the point."

You were surprised at the transparency. Rafe Cameron told you things he never thought he'd say out loud. But maybe, it was because no one had cared enough to ask.

Unsure if you should comfort him or dig deeper and psychoanalyze him, you stay quiet. You sigh and stand up, which has Rafe panicking again. Had he scared you off? Was this too much for you? But then you moved closer to the spot you originally sat at, next to his waist, and planted yourself there again. Rafe mentally fist pumped, feeling like he won the lottery.

"Would you, uhm— and you can say no," you began timidly.

Rafe noticed your hesitation and reached out to place his hand atop yours. It was an encouraging gesture. An attempt to push you to continue. After his revealing monologue, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. A wonderful feeling that you gifted to him.

His hand on yours made your fingers twitch. You were afraid that if you made any big or sudden movement, he'd retract and go back into his shell, which was the last thing you wanted. It was a little cool— his hand— calloused and cool. But you liked it, nonetheless.

Gathering every ounce of courage in your body, you spoke again. "If you're up for it, would you want to hang out sometime?" Quickly adding, "after you're all better, of course!"

Rafe felt giddy.

The last time he felt this way was when his father took him out of school early on his birthday. When he was eight. It was a warm sensation, accompanied by the need to jump up and down from sheer joy. He wouldn't mind getting used to it.

He tried to keep his cool and stuttered out, "yeah— no, yeah. I'm up for it, sure. Yeah."

A big smile slapped across your face and before you could respond, the door opened and a nurse stepped into the room.

"Mr. Cameron, you should turn in for the night. Your recovery requires a lot of sleep. Your girlfriend can come back tomorrow morning." With that she left the room, leaving you to pick your jaw up from off the floor.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Rafe teased.

You jumped off the hospital bed and avoided looking at him— too flustered to do so. You knew your face was a blushing mess, so you quickly walked to the door, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Ugh, you hoped the ground would swallow you up.

"I'll see you soon! Hope you feel better!" Your words came out all breathy as you ran out of the room, and down the hall.

Rafe was too enamoured to sleep that night.

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First time writing for Rafe!!

Thank you for reading <3

Just gotta show you that I'm the one

RafeCameron x Reader

In which you kiss Rafe during a game of spin the bottle, and he can't seem to leave you alone after.

wc: 7.1k

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The bass of the music made your whole body vibrate with adrenaline— that and the alcohol. It was the first party of the summer yet, everyone celebrated like it was the last. You rarely showed up to things like this, but after a difficult semester and a tough breakup, you figured you deserved to let loose. That’s what you kept telling yourself—to drown out the badgering thought that if you’d just been good enough, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself cheated on.

You shake your head like you were trying to get the thoughts to fall from your ears, and gulped down another Jell-O shot. Your fourth one of the night.

When you set the shot glass down, your arm was yanked and your body was being dragged over to the door leading down to the basement.

“Soph, where’re you taking me?” You giggled at the end of your question, which was confusing because nothing was funny. But you heard from friends that when you got drunk, it was a laugh fest.

“Basement— they’re playing spin the bottle.” She held you tight and guided you down the stairs. Leaning closer to whisper in your ear, she says, “maybe I’ll get to kiss Caleb.” She almost squealed with excitement.

Lots of people were laughing and chit chatting as they sat down in a poorly formed circle. You found an empty space next to Topper, who smiled politely at you. At that moment, you remembered that alcohol also made you very affectionate. You didn’t know Topper all that well and you still reached out and pinched his cheek in response. He was taken aback, but didn’t say anything.

“Alright, everyone knows the rules. If the bottle lands on you, you gotta give the spinner a big ol’ kiss. Capeesh?” Kelce announced to everyone, and looked around to make sure they were on the same page.

Nods and hums filled the room and an empty corona bottle was placed in the middle of the circle.

Kelce went first.

Everyone stared at the bottle in anticipation. Some dreading it landing on them, while others prayed to a higher being that they’d get to kiss Kelce. You, on the other hand, just looked up and around the room at everyone since the spinning bottle was making you dizzy.

Cheers sounded through the basement as the bottle finally chose. It landed on Kelce’s ex-girlfriend, Madison. Everyone whooped and laughed at how unbelievably perfect it was. Kelce was in disbelief and Madison looked like she regretted coming to the party. But rules were rules and also, people were too drunk to realize they had free will and could back out.

A perverse smile was slapped across your face, along with everyone else, at the sight of Kelce and Madison leaning in. Their breakup was the talk of the town as neither of them were the type to keep a low profile. The arguments in the streets to screenshots posted all over social media made this whole situation funnier.

The two leaned in and kissed each other for a split second before going right back to their spots. The group booed at the lack of commitment, but the ex-couple didn’t seem to care.

Madison’s turn.

The group once again glued their eyes to the spinning glass bottle. Your eyes wandered and took in everyone’s appearances— just a bunch of horny kooks, and you were no different. It had been a while since you’d got some action— or any proper action. It was embarrassing to admit but, technically, you were a virgin. You’d done everything but the big “P” for penetration— always interrupted. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t miss the closeness. Lips on your lips. Hands in your hair.

"Oh shit! Didn't know we'd get some girl-on-girl tonight!" A voice hollered from across the circle and you tuned back into the game.

Madison's bottle landed on Jade.

It was kind of perfect, actually. The one thing you remembered about Jade was how, one time in high school, you caught her checking you out after gym. You thought a lot about her after that— wondering what the curious stare meant back then.

Seeing her now—unflinching, ready to kiss Madison—confirmed your suspicions, and you mentally patted yourself on the back.

The two leaned in pressed their lips against one another. The crowd cheered and whistled as the girls got deeper into it. Your brows raised slightly as you were surprised at how long the kiss was. It was messy too— you could see a little tongue. Madison was practically swallowing Jade like she was trying to get any trace of Kelce off of her. You took a deep breath and looked away as you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Now that's what 'm talking about!"

The girls pulled away, sitting back down with shy smiles and flushed faces. They avoided each others' eyes and the group nudged them, finding the whole situation funny.

Jade's turn.

She spun the bottle without hesitation and stared at it intensely. She was quite attractive, with her dark hair and piercing eyes—so naturally, everyone was kind of hoping the bottle would choose them. You included. You laughed at the thought. God, I'm drunk.

The bottle began to slow its rotation and finally came to a halt. The loud, boisterous kooks somehow grew even louder and more boisterous. Your eyes trailed from the neck of the bottle to the legs of the person sitting cross-legged, up their torso, and finally to their face

Rafe Cameron.

The reaction of the crowd was understandable.

Rafe, Rafe, Rafe.

What to say about him?

He was the personification of the word "kook". During his teenage years, he was like a tyrant. Most people stayed out of his way because of his unpredictability and short fuse. You always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt considering how he was raised, but he didn't always make that so easy. With all this in mind, it's worth mentioning that now, as an adult, he was doing better. His belligerent days were behind him, and he had calmed down quite a bit. You don't remember the last time you heard of him beating someone bloody. Nowadays, when he'd come back from college, he'd work with his Father during the day, and let loose during the night. Still, you didn't forget about the person he was. No one did. Tensed shoulders and hushed whispers still arose at the mention of Rafe's name, and it would be a while before that changed.

Rafe was nonchalant. When the bottle landed on him, he held up his index and middle finger to motion for Jade to come closer to him. You watched with your Jell-O shot riddled mind— which had you thinking he was very sexy at that moment. Jade licked her lips and leaned forward on all fours— ready for it. Rafe's hand found the back of her neck and he pressed his lips to hers. The room erupted in cheers and you covered your ears at the volume. Your eyes stayed on Rafe and Jade and you shamelessly wondered how it would feel to kiss him. Despite his rough appearance, his lips were soft and pink.

They look delicious.

The kiss was short and clean. Nothing like the one before, and a part of you was surprised. Rafe pulled away first and sat back down, taking a swig of his drink.

Now you were a little intrigued— more alert. Moving your pupils side-to-side, you counted the heads in the circle and rounded up to about fifteen participants. There were also lots more people in the room, just as spectators, and they were at the edge of their seats. There was like a 7% chance that you’d be the one the bottle landed on— slim odds, but not impossible.

“I hope it doesn’t land on me,” Sofia whispers in your ear.

You nodded, even though you couldn’t really hear what she said over the drumroll sounding through the room.

Rafe held the bottle with his left hand and spun it with a sharp flick of the wrist. He stared at it closely. You wondered if he was mentally hoping that it would land on someone specific. There was no way to tell just by studying his face.

Again, the bottle began to slow down in momentum, and everyone knew it was going to choose the next participant soon. It was an exciting feeling— a lot more amplified during this round than the ones before. And that was the power of Rafe.

The bottle stopped spinning.

You looked at it and followed its path. You heard Sofia gasp right next to you.

The bottle pointed right between you and her.

The crowd groaned and then started weighing in on what should be done. Everyone talked over one another trying to reach a consensus.

All this over a game of spin the bottle.

You swallowed and looked across the circle at Rafe, whose eyes were already on you. It made you flinch in surprise and you quickly averted your gaze back to the bottle. You pretended to think about a way to solve the impossible equation.

Hmm, maybe he could spin again?

While you were busy pretending to look deep in thought, Rafe had already made up his mind. Ignoring all the opinions of those around him, he reached forward and shifted the bottle an inch so it was pointing directly at you.

Now you were the one gasping, as Sofia let out a sigh of relief.

Your eyes remained fixed on the bottle as the crowd got rowdy once again. Because this wasn’t as uneventful as a re-spin. No— this time, the bottle didn’t choose you.

Rafe did.

It felt like the first time ever in spin the bottle history for something like that to happen. And that’s why everyone was shouting, cheering, and feeling oh so lucky to be witnesses. Because now there were layers to this game. It raised questions. Like, why did he choose you over Sofia? Or, had he been hoping it would land on you all along?

Whatever it was, you didn’t have time to think about it right now. Because the game was still ongoing.

And this time, Rafe was the one moving closer. He was actually putting in the effort to come to you. This had you slightly impressed and also feeling a little funny. You felt Sofia pat you on the back as a sign of encouragement. So you slowly moved towards him too. Quickly running your tongue over your lips, you scooted forward and he met you before you got to the middle.

Impatient?

Eager?

Coming face-to-face with him was— and you don't say this lightly— breathtaking. You could sit there for days trying to find a flaw, and still come up short. He was simply perfect. With alluring eyes and pink lips, it was no surprise that everyone fawned over him all his life.

The group chanted your names like you guys were athletes or something. It had your veins coursing with adrenaline, and you weren't sure if you enjoyed that feeling or not. You were never used to being the centre of attention, but Rafe was. And that somehow comforted you.

Rafe did everything at his own pace—peer pressure never got to him. Finally, with a curl of his lip, he tilted his head and leaned forward, closing the distance. His lips met yours and he corrected his angle to better feel them. Your initial instinct was to freeze and just let him do all the work. But then you realized that this opportunity wouldn’t present itself again— it’s not like you’d want to be anywhere near Rafe when you’re sober. So why not make the most of it now, and give people a show?

Your blood alcohol content provided you with the boost that you needed. While Rafe took his time to suck on your bottom lip, you brought your hands to the sides of his cheeks and held him like he was the most precious artifact in the world. When he felt your touch, he moaned all breathy into the kiss—just for you to hear. You took that chance to deepen the kiss and swipe the inside of his mouth with your tongue, which he gladly welcomed.

The crowd’s cheers didn’t die down once. If anything, they got louder.

When you felt satisfied with your little risk of the day, you pulled back. Rafe, for a moment, had forgotten where he was and reflexively leaned forward to catch your missing touch. But when it wasn't there, he opened his eyes and noticed you’d sat back down at your spot. Topper reached forward and shook his shoulder, exclaiming, “dude, that was crazy!” Rafe just took a few seconds to catch his breath and then returned to his spot. His fingers kept finding his way back to his lips to settle the tingling feeling that was so prominent there.

You were out of breath too, but the game wasn’t over.

So you reached for the bottle to continue your turn. Grabbing it between your fingers and thumb, you gave it a hard spin and kneeled before it.

It was hard concentrating on the game after what you just did, and your thoughts were now filled with Rafe Cameron. Just as your mind was occupied with him, your eyes wanted to be included too. So you briefly look away from the bottle, and to Rafe, only to see him standing up and leaving. A few people seemed to ask him where he was going, but he just shook his head in response.

It was almost like he didn’t want to watch you kiss someone else.

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The morning, or afternoon, brought the blaring sun and a miserable hangover. You barely stumbled out of your bed at half past noon, and threw up on your way to the shower. The regret set in as the water hit your skin, and you cringed as your mind played a recap of the night.

Images of the party, the solo cups, and the wasted kooks all came flashing through when you closed your eyes. However, they shot open when you remembered the spin the bottle game.

Oh god. I full on made out with Rafe.

You weren’t sure how you felt about the whole situation. Sure, it was just a game and there was no need for further complication. But you weren’t the type to just kiss anyone at anytime. All the people you’d been with were ones you’d intended to pursue, and date, and all that. Seeing as how that was the last thing you wanted with Rafe, it was hard to wrap your head around the act of doing something so intimate with someone who you’d never really talk to again.

Is this what adulthood is?

Is this what hook-up culture is like?

You didn’t care for it. But it made things easier that the only two people you kissed last night were ones you wouldn’t cross paths with again.

After Rafe left, your next kiss was with Caleb. Yes, the Caleb that Sofia was praying she’d get. It made things quite awkward and you apologized profusely to her before, and after, you quickly gave him a peck. You earned boo’s from the crowd but you didn’t really care because your friendship came before all that. So Caleb was off the table, and back to being a stranger.

Rafe is the same too. Before last night, the only time you remembered interacting with him was during chemistry (which he was repeating), when you got partnered up for a lab. It was mostly forgettable besides the part where he made you do the whole experiment and lab report on your own, which had you furious. But he made up for it by presenting it to the class, knowing you were too shy to do so. Oh, and he’d also grab you the goggles and lab coat every time. So… that was quite nice of him.

Nevertheless, that was almost four years ago. Now you two went to different universities and lived different lives. He took the business route, and you took arts— couldn’t be more different. There was nothing to worry about then. Last night would blend in with the rest of the nights to come and, soon, you would forget the feeling of his lips on yours, and the quiet desperation he had for you.

Stepping out of the shower, you felt a lot better. Cold showers were the cure to everything.

You headed down to the kitchen, trying to satiate the growling of your stomach. The fridge was full of leftovers from last night that your mom so kindly packed up for you. It was a shame you were too nauseous to eat anything too heavy. So you stuck to some cold cereal and walked over to the table to begin eating.

A doorbell made you flinch and stand up. You peaked out the window and noticed a van had dropped off a package for you. Maybe it was those shoes you ordered two weeks ago. Finally some good news.

Walking over to the front door you opened it to see the shoes truly had arrived. You bent down to pick up the box and noticed a small envelope leaned against the wooden railing of the porch. It didn’t seem to have come with the shoes. No, they were placed too far apart. And this envelope had your name written on it. Not in any fancy letters, just simple penmanship.

You furrow your brows, pick up both things, and head into the house.

The shoes could wait now that your intrigue was stolen by the envelope. It was black too. You didn’t even know they made them in that colour.

Slowly and carefully, you slid your fingernails under the flap and lifted it, trying your best not to tear anything. It felt expensive.

Maybe it’s an invitation to midsummer.

No, but then Mom and Dad would’ve gotten one too.

After successfully opening it without any damage, you peaked inside. There was just a slip of paper. Not just your common printer paper though— this was thicker. Like card-stock.

Your index and thumb pinched the top of it and took it out of the envelope. One side, the side you saw first, was blank. The other just had a small message written on it.

“That was some kiss.”

You stared at the card and read the words over and over again until you were seeing them in between blinks. Who could possibly send such a thing? And why?

Was it Caleb?

It was Caleb, wasn’t it?

Fuck, this is all so wrong! He’s not yours to claim and you weren’t his. Sofia would be distraught and the thought of that made you feel like you could puke again.

You slam the card down, and grab your car keys. Time to pay Caleb a little visit to nip this in the bud.

All you knew about him was that he recently started working the morning shift at the Wreck. He should still be there if you drove fast enough.

You pulled into the parking space and marched into the restaurant like you were on a life or death mission— which is what it felt like in the moment.

Your head turned from side-to-side quickly as your eyes scanned the place. They zeroed in when you spotted him behind the counter. Your legs moved and dragged the rest of you along. You placed the envelope on the counter and waited for him to notice you.

“Y/N, hey, what can I getcha?” Caleb picked up the plate from the customer before you and walked it over to the kitchen in the back. He returned with a welcoming smile on his face.

“I’m not here to eat, Caleb.” You slid the envelope forward.

He furrowed his brows and looked down at it. “What’s this? Are you trying to bribe me or something?” He chuckles.

Look at him being all oblivious.

You narrow your eyes. “You know what it is. This- you can’t be sending me stuff like this.”

He was speechless, not having a clue of what you were on about. He looked down at the envelope again, then back at you and said, “Y/N, I have never seen this before. Ever.”

You scoff in disbelief. “At least own up to it— I mean come on! I came all the way here and—”

“Dude, I’ve been waiting for my sandwich forever.”

A voice cuts you off and steals Caleb’s attention. You turn to the sound and see Rafe behind you. Quickly you turn back and stare ahead, hoping he didn’t recognize you.

“Sorry, I’ll get on that.” Caleb shot Rafe an apologetic look and turned to you to quietly say, “promise I didn’t send you that.”

You weren’t sure if you trusted him. He could’ve just been too nervous to admit it. Maybe he wasn’t the confrontational type. Who knows?

With a sigh, and your head hung low, you walk out of the restaurant without glancing at anyone else.

If it was Caleb—and you knew it was—then your reaction would’ve made it clear to him that you weren’t into it. Which meant mission accomplished, because you only came to the Wreck to shut this down before it got out of hand.

On the drive home, there was still a feeling of dissatisfaction gnawing at you. Because, although, you were set on Caleb being the culprit, there was something about the sincerity in his voice that made you think otherwise.

He could've been a theatre kid— lots of time to perfect his acting.

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The next morning you were feeling a lot better without the life-altering hangover. To add to the great morning, you also woke up with zero thoughts of the mystery-of-the-card-giver— which sounded like poorly written Agatha Christie novel.

A new summer day came with so much potential, and so much daylight. You planned to run a few errands with your Dad and then catch a movie with Sofia. It was the perfect balance of productivity and relaxation, and you were ready to get on with it.

First on the list was picking your Dad up from the auto body shop a few blocks away. He had to leave his car with the mechanics because of a recent, harmless, fender bender.

You pull on your shorts and a band tee of a group you couldn't name three songs of, and head out the door. You stepped onto the porch and noticed a black box at the last minute, which made you stumble and roll your ankle. "Ow shit!" Leaning against the doorframe, you reached for your ankle and rubbed the area with the shooting pain. After trying, and failing, to massage that pain away, you let go and reached for the box.

You were already annoyed, and you had a feeling that the contents of this box would only exacerbate that. Holding it in your hands, it wasn't too heavy or too big. It was sleek, rectangular, and... velvet? So definitely not cheap.

Great.

You walked over to the porch swing and placed it in your lap.

What is Caleb's game here?

Pressing on the small golden button to make the lid pop up, you were gasping at the sight before you. A gold chain bracelet. You recognized the motifs on it— five of them. All four leaf clover shaped. Black. A vintage Van Cleef.

Holy shit these are like seven thousand dollars.

You felt like you had forgotten how to breathe. Quickly, you shut the box and place it next to you on the swing– afraid you'd break it.

Who in their right mind would carelessly spend money like this?

Caleb was rich, but not this rich. How could he shell out seven g's on you after just a peck that lasted like half a millisecond? He was clearly taking the whole "hopeless romantic" title too far.

Your phone buzzed and you checked to see that your Dad had texted you asking of your whereabouts. Snapping out of the daze, you put the box inside and leave for the auto body shop.

The whole day you felt a strange weight on your shoulders. Your love language wasn't receiving gifts, and so this made you very uncomfortable. The price too! You wouldn't accept it even if it was given to you by your husband of fifty years! (Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But still.)

And the worst part was that you couldn't talk to Sofia about it as it would kill her.

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You got no sleep last night. Just tossing and turning as the bracelet stared at you from your nightstand. Eyeing you with its slick chain and shiny motifs. It was truly a sight to see and you were already starting to feel upset at the thought of parting with it.

So you decided to rip off the bandaid, and give it back to Caleb right away. Did you try it on a few times? Yes. Did you consider just keeping it because it was a gift for you and you deserved something nice? Yes.

But ultimately, the cost of the thing made you too nervous, and returning it was the right thing to do.

You were dressed for the day and ready to head out. Before opening the door, you took a deep breath and mentally prayed that there wouldn't be another expensive present awaiting you. You didn't know what you'd do if there was just a Rolls-Royce in your driveway. Mainly because you wouldn't know how to return it.

Unlocking the door, and opening it just a teeny bit, you peaked your head out and looked down.

Shit.

Another box. This one was square shaped and it had a small envelope attached.

Where does Caleb find the time?

You reluctantly picked it up and brought it inside. A few moments of mental debate began to take place as you couldn’t decide whether to open it or not. What if you got too attached?

The envelope sat there on your coffee table and you were dreading the thought of another flirtatious line. You thought you had been stern with Caleb the other day. And yet here was evidence that your plan had backfired.

You bite the bullet and tear open the envelope without a care this time. Inside was a small note again.

“For your pretty neck.”

You furrow your brows and notice your stomach felt funny. You turn to the box, finally, and open it to find a matching necklace to your bracelet. Oh my. Oh no. Oh, this has gone too far.

Hitting up the Wreck twice in three days was rare for you. You typically didn’t like going there because of potential run-ins with old classmates you felt awkward around. But this was important stuff! You were being showered with expensive jewelry! And it had to stop.

On your angry march into the restaurant, you were mentally rehearsing a long and scary speech you’d say to Caleb. Drop words like “impermissible” and “cease!”

“Didn’t like the necklace, huh?”

You froze. It felt like the Looney Toons when a character was sprinting with smoke coming from their legs and then stop with that horrible tire screeching sound. A chill ran up your back because that voice… that voice didn’t belong to Caleb. No. It belonged to Rafe. You stood there for a few seconds, right in front of the doors. Then you took a deep breath, and turned around to Rafe who was standing behind you.

A million things could’ve been said but for some reason you settled on, “what— uhm— what’re you talking about?”

You flinched from surprise when he let out a short, but genuine, laugh.

“You know what.” He crosses his arms over his chest and quirks his brow at you.

Before you could respond, your phone rang in your pocket. You look down and fish out your phone, shooting him an apologetic look. It was Sofia.

When you glanced back up, Rafe had walked off with Kelce. And you were left with your hummingbird heartbeat and Sofia’s voice ranting about another annoying incident involving her coworker.

Her words went in one ear, and out the other. The only thing you could think about right now was how it was Rafe all along. The note. The jewelry.

For your pretty neck.

What in the actual hell.

You had never thought to suspect him because you didn’t think he actually had… feelings? Like human emotions? Like did he actually want you to like him? Was he capable of longing for a person? Unless that’s not what this was— maybe he just wanted to get laid. In the midst of this busy schedule, he probably didn’t have much time to get his rocks off. And maybe that’s why he needed you. To be there as a stress reliever. And he most likely thought you’d be more than up for it considering the way you kissed him. Like it was your last day on earth. Practically sucking face.

Oh god.

Later that night you laid on your bed and stared at the ceiling. There were too many questions on your mind. Along with those, of course, was a fluttering feeing in your stomach. Because even though you didn’t know his intentions, a part of you felt like you were actually being pursued. Like your attention was a valuable prize. A goal.

But this had already gone too far. And you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing something else on your doorstep tomorrow morning.

Maybe I should just stop leaving the house.

You shake your head and knock some sense into yourself. It’s time to take matters into your own hands! Sure, in person, you couldn’t get a word out to Rafe because of his intimidating presence (and hot face). But you could shoot him a text. There was more confidence behind the screen without his eyes swallowing you up.

You grab your cellphone.

You stood up and paced around your bedroom. Okay, all you have to do is send a strongly-worded text. Words. On a screen. You’ll be fine! It’s just a text! It’s not like he can reach through the screen and touch you, right? That kind of technology wouldn't come into existence overnight.

You took deep breaths as you typed his phone number into your cell. Okay. Okay. You can do this. Words on a screen. Words. Letters.

You stared at the message in horror, but sent it anyway. Why in the world were you texting like you needed a moment to talk about your lord and saviour Jesus Christ?

Why did you get so formal when you texted strangers? He’s going to think you’re the same goody-two-shoes all those years ago in chem class. But also, you didn’t need his approval. To be honest, you wanted nothing to do with Rafe. He was a big guy in many ways— his big personality, big presence, big impact. You weren’t sure you could handle it— or that you wanted to. You were quite content with the small circle of people in your life who helped maintain the peace. And Rafe? Rafe is… havoc.

But you also never knew he could be so smooth. All those years of girls chasing him you never thought it was because he had something to offer.

Clearly, you missed out.

The cell phone flew across the room and hit your headboard, plopping into the thin crevice between it and the mattress. His last text clearly had some sort of physical effect on you to the point where you thought that destroying your phone to bits would be better than responding.

Maybe this was a joke. Like a dare. Oh, that would be so cruel— but that was more up his alley, than being this sweet and generous loverboy.

You didn’t want to keep living in this fever dream, so you decided it was best to just call it a night.

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Day four.

You thought that after the text exchange last night, there would be a pause, a hesitance, a break.

But it seemed that Rafe only decided to crank things up. He didn’t see your texts as a sign to back down—no— he saw them as a challenge— to see how far he can push you; see how much you could take.

Outside your doorstep lay a large bouquet of tulips— red tulips. Knowing a little something about flowers and symbolism from English class during your senior year— these indicated love.

Love.

But maybe it wasn’t on purpose. Maybe they were just the first ones he laid his eyes on.

Attached was another note, and another box.

You shut your eyes tight hoping that you were just imagining things. But when you opened them again, the sight hadn’t changed.

Your muscle memory kicked in, and you carried all the presents inside, into the living room. You laid them on the coffee table and dissected each gift one by one.

The box, first.

It was smaller, like one for a ring. Which scared you— because rings could mean many things. Marriages, promises, friendships. None of which applied to you and Rafe.

The velvet box popped open and your assumptions were proven correct. A gold ring to match the necklace and bracelet. You stared at your reflection in the four leaf clover motif.

Your hands trembled and you took out the note next.

“Don’t freak out… just wanted to compliment the set.”

It was like he read your mind. Yes, it’s not like this was a proposal— no, this was a dire fashion choice.

Today was a busy day for you, unfortunately. You didn’t have time to show up at his door and talk some sense into him.

But then again, he clearly didn’t back down when you called him out. So maybe the best way to deal with this is to ignore him.

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By the fifth day—and your lack of reaction to the ring—Rafe was a little more desperate. After the last gift, he’d been sure you’d reach out and scold him like a Sunday school teacher. Which, disturbingly, he found kind of hot and made a mental note to bring up with a professional. Still, he was Rafe Cameron, and when he wanted something, he’d stop at nothing to get it. Nothing. So your silence didn’t make him recoil—it only enticed him more.

Like clockwork, you opened your front door and looked down on the porch.

A box and a note.

More fucking red tulips.

You picked them up and brought them inside. There was only one vase in your entire house which was already occupied by yesterday’s flowers.

The box contained a pair of earrings to match the set. You almost felt dizzy when you mentally calculated the total cost of all his gifts.

Earrings were your favourite accessory and the longer you stared at them, the harder it was to resist putting them on and strutting around your living room.

Next, the note.

“Playing hard to get?

Makes me want you more.”

You read the words again, and again, and again. They made you feel something— a feeling you couldn’t pinpoint.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, opening up your text messages.

Rolling your eyes, you toss your phone aside and got on with your day. You weren’t the type of person whose life is upended because of some guy.

Yeah, he’s just a guy— a guy who’s given you almost twenty thousand dollars worth of gifts without blinking. A guy who has been complimenting and pursuing you like his life depended on it. A guy who's making you feel wanted for the first time in a long time.

You take a deep breath, it’ll all blow over in a few days.

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Oh, how wrong your were.

You audibly gasped when you opened your front door the next day. It seemed that Rafe had run out of accessory ideas, because all there was on your porch was an envelope full of cash. You jumped and picked it up and brought it inside, immediately locking the door. Flipping it over, you read his messy handwriting you'd become so familiar with.

"Does this count as an atrocity or generosity?"

Smoke was coming out of your ears and you were red with a mixture of rage, humiliation, and fucking butterflies.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you stomping towards your car with all his gifts, or debts, in hand and placing them in the passenger seat. You were slamming doors left, right, and centre trying to make a statement, but when it came to the gifts, you gently wrapped a seatbelt around them. It disrupted your flow, but your bank account couldn't take the hit if anything was damaged.

White-knuckling the steering wheel all the way to Tannyhill, you took shallow breaths and practiced your assertive voice.

Today it would all end. Finally.

When you pulled up to the house, you noticed Rafe was outside, on the grass, speaking into his cellphone. Without a care in the world, you drove up his driveway and noticed his brows shoot up, wondering who you were. Then when you got out of the car, frantically, his brows returned to their spot and a smirk settled across his face.

You slammed the door and walked up to him with the envelope of cash clutched in your hand. He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket, without saying goodbye.

"What is this?" The assertive voice went out the window, and instead you sounded shrill. But Rafe didn't seem to mind at all— if anything, he was intrigued... and a little turned on.

He looked from your eyes, to your lips, and then to the envelope. "Generosity?"

You clicked your tongue in frustration and responded, "this isn't funny! I told you to stop."

He was about to say something, but you cut him off and began pacing on the lawn.

"— and this? Cash? Are you insane? What if someone saw? They'd think I was a drug dealer or something!" You ran your hand through your hair almost ripping it out of your scalp.

"No one would think that." He shrugged.

You stared at him like he grew a second head.

"Is that the only thing you took away from what I said?" The vein in your forehead was about to pop.

"No, I heard the whole thing— but I just had to let you know that you don't give off the drug dealer vibe."

"Oh!" You let out a short, hysterical laugh. "Oh, that is so good to know. I'm so glad we got that cleared up." You exclaimed with biting sarcasm.

Rafe was finding you more entertaining than any TV show he'd binged in the past, well, ever. He could watch you all day and listen to you yell at him for an embarrassingly long time.

He finally spoke up with the question he'd been meaning to ask since the night of spin the bottle.

"Go out with me."

You halted in your maniacal pacing— you were sure you'd dug a hole in his lawn at this point. You looked up at him with eyes basically bulging out of your head.

"What?" Your voice reached a pitch that only a dog could hear.

He chuckled, "go out with me."

He couldn't have been real. What human being was this shameless and infuriating? If you had told yourself last week that the Rafe Cameron would be acting like a lovesick child for you, you'd laugh and laugh until you fainted.

You scoffed in disbelief and replied, "are you serious?" You scoffed again and then just gasped like you were out of breath. "What— you— what? You think you can just buy my affection?"

His amused eyes never left you once. He didn't blink— not wanting to miss even a second of this conversation with you.

"No, but I can buy your attention right? Because," he smiled and stepped closer, "you're here."

Without hesitation, you took a step back and distanced yourself, to Rafe's dismay. But he was patient when it came to you, so he stayed still.

You were speechless. How does one respond to that?

He tilts his head, "cat got your tongue?"

You shake your head, "I only came buy to return everything to you. Nothing more."

With that, you head towards your car and bring out the stack of boxes from the passenger seat. You walk back to him to hand them off. But he doesn't budge, instead just putting his hands in his pockets with a smug look.

What a little—

"Rafe." You say sternly.

He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue.

"Y/N." He mimics your tone.

You sigh and hold the boxes out again, "please. I can't accept them."

He shakes his head, "I bought them for you. I'm not taking anything back."

With a groan you reply, "I don't want them! I- I don't want this— whatever this is— between us."

Rafe was slightly discouraged with your words, but he told himself that you were just desperate, and would say anything to convince him. He knew a little something about that.

Light bulb.

"Okay," he crosses his arms over his chest.

You blink surprised, "okay?"

He nods, "I'll take them back if you go out with me—"

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily, but he continues.

"— just one date. One dinner. And I'll prove to you that you do want this— whatever this is— between us."

"Rafe, there's no point in going through all that hassle—"

"One dinner. And if by the end you still— for some reason— aren't completely in love with me, then I'll leave you alone."

You paused and narrowed your eyes at him. "Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nods.

This is it. This was your shot.

"Deal."

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

This was initially supposed to be one-shot but got wayyy too long!! But there will be another part to this soon!

Thank you for reading <33