He was careful. Like you'd break if he wasn't so gentle with you. Nothing good came in his life like the way you did–dropped into his lap like a present–one he was eternally grateful for.

Even now as you lay against his chest, his hand rubbing your arm soothingly, pressing you closer–if that was even possible, he's quiet. Almost too still. Though the real reason is he's afraid to shake you from your spot.

"You're so pretty.." he'd whisper, smiling when he'd feel the heat radiating from your cheeks through his shirt–because you were the only thing that felt worth being happy for. You were special. You saved him. His sweet, little wife.

"You tell me a million times a day, Rafe."

"Well, you deserve a million and one, baby." He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. "Beautiful...'deserve everything.." he whispered, trailing his lips down your jaw line.

"What has come over you?" You giggled, trying to stifle your little laughs as his slight stubble tickled your skin.

"Can't a guy appreciate his wife?"

His pupils had practically formed into hearts as he looked into your eyes, swallowing you all up in one look. That lovesick puppy look that always made you cave.

"You can.."

"Well, thank you for the permission." He snorted, capturing your mouth with his own before sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his free hand pressing into your side.

"..Mm..love you so much–"

"You're gonna make us fall off the couch." You smiled against his lips, trying not to laugh once again as he only continued his attack on your mouth.

"Don't care..c'mon.."

"Rafe!-"

MASTERLIST

“call- call her right now” rafe’s voice is faint but recognizable through the phone five seconds after topper called you in the middle of the night. “dude she’s already on the call.” topper replies, followed by a loud shuffling noise as rafe harshly grabs the phone from him, losing balance and almost falling off the couch while doing so.

“heyyy..come to the party i wanna see you.” rafe slurs out. you roll your eyes, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “are you kidding me? it’s 2am rafe. you guys woke me up im not going anywhere.” you reply in annoyance.

you hear the phone being passed around again, until it lands on toppers voice. “please i’m begging you just come pick him up. he’s like fucking high and drunk as shit and he says he won’t stop drinking until you come-”

“don’t fuckin’ tell her that” you hear rafe interrupt.

“dude shut up you’re seriously so fucked.” topper responds, “anyways please come just pull up for a second.” he begs. “topper i’m not going to your house at 2am i have to wake up early tomorrow. just tell rafe to snap out of it he’ll be fine.”

“he’s literally pouting as you say that right now.” topper says, glancing to his side where rafe is sitting there half slumped attentively trying to listen to your voice.

“wha-what’s she sayin’? is she coming?” you hear on the line, clawing your heart slightly at how desperate he sounds. “she said she’s not coming bro” you hear topper reply.

“oh my god fine i’ll come. just stop him from drinking or getting high or whatever the fuck he’s doing. ill leave now.” you reply, gaining a sigh of relief from topper.

when you reach the house the thumping music already starts to hurt your head. people greet you on your way in, not forgetting to mention something about how “rafe hasn’t stopped talking about you” and that “he’s been looking for you this whole time.”

you move through the busy, sweaty crowd looking for the familiar figure. when you finally find him, he spots you from across the room and immediately tries to stand up opening his arms widely. his intoxication however leads him to stumble and lose balance as topper helps him up, shaking his head in irritation. “thanks for coming seriously i owe you one-” topper starts but gets interrupted by rafe’s slurred voice saying “ohhhh my god you’re here..i missed you so bad.”

rafe wraps his arms around your waist, giving you a sloppy kiss on your cheek to which you freeze, taken aback. topper and kelce look just as confused as you, asking “since when does rafe cameron kiss you? you guys a thing or what?” you respond shaking your head which is now buried deep in his chest, saying “since never? we’re not a thing he’s just drunk.”

after saying your byes you attempt to drag rafe through the crowd but it’s hard when other drunk people who are unaware of their surroundings keep bumping into you. “nobody touch my girl i’ll fuckin’ kill you” rafe inaudibly shouts to some guy next to you as you whisper, “rafe please shut up it’s embarrassing.”

the car ride home is unexpectedly silent. you occasionally glance over at rafe who sits there sloppily, pupils blown wide and eyes half lidded. “you okay?” you ask. “i’m okay baby.” he smiles, turning his droopy head towards you. “why are you calling me that? and that kiss earlier? what’s up with you?” you question, a bit frustrated.

“but you are my baby.” he mutters under his breath. “no i’m not rafe, we’re just friends. and you’ve literally never said that before today.”

“so what? i can’t- i can’t call you shit now?” rafe argues.

“you sure you’re not just horny? no offense rafe but you usually never call me when you’re drunk because you’re too busy fucking some random girl.”

your statement makes rafe’s eyebrows knit and you can see the pure offense on his face. “wow okay.” he goes silent. “look i didnt mean it like that,” you start, trying to keep your eyes on the road and focus on driving. “i’m just confused on why you’re all of a sudden acting like we’re dating.”

rafe opens his mouth to say something, but then hesitates and closes it again. when you finally arrive at his house, you quickly get out of the car and walk around, opening the passenger side door to which he immediately leans into you. you help him out of the car, one of his arms over your shoulder as you quietly bring him upstairs to his room.

rafe immediately flops on the bed, lying on his back as he opens both arms urging you to join. “please i need you.” he whispers. you can feel your face reddening as you slowly walk over, gently sitting down on the bed next to his figure. he drags your body down, engulfing you into his embrace. his skin radiates warmth, flushed from the alcohol and you can almost smell his cologne buried in the scent of weed.

you look up at his face noticing how he’s sloppily smiling as he looks back at you, hair all ruffled up. you almost miss the way his pupils dialate as he watches you run your fingers through it. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” he says.

you stay silent as you convince yourself it’s just the alcohol and drugs talking, not him. “rafe don’t say stuff like that.” you quietly respond. “why not? it’s true.” he says, half lidded eyes never once leaving your face. “you just- you can’t. we’re not like that.”

you sit up slightly from your position attempting to snap back into your thoughts. “let me go pick out some fresh clothes for you, you can take a warm shower and clean up. how about that?” you ask. “no, not yet.” he says, pulling you back down onto the bed next to him. your face flushes when you notice how close it is to his.

“it wasn’t a question-” you say, but you get cut off by his lips crashing into yours. his tongue grazes along your bottom lip as if he’s asking for permission. you freeze for a second before letting his tongue slip into your mouth as you gently kiss him back; he cups your cheek with his palm, his thumb slowly stroking your cheek up and down.

you can taste the alcohol from him, bringing you back to reality as you pull away.

“rafe you’re drunk. we shouldn’t be doing this-”

“i’m so in love with you.” he admits. your eyes go wide as you shake your head.

“that’s not even funny rafe. don’t say shit like that when you’re not sober.”

the words hang between you, swallowed by the silence. his expression falters for just a second like he’s searching for the right words but coming up empty.

Ი himbo ݁ .ᐟ rafe 𐑼 jealous of you babysitting wheezie

himbo⠀ ˖⠀ 𓇬⠀ introduction ・ ゜

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𖬺 ⠀ from this ⠀ ⠀𓈄 ⠀⠀ ask ◞ ׁ

did wheezie instead of having to make up a kid ‹/𝟹

rafe couldn’t control the sneer he was giving his younger sister. usually, he’s always sneering at her just because. but now he has a reason. she’s hogging your attention.

wheezie handed you a bracelet she was wearing, you preening and awing at it. you could aw at rafe. he should’ve told rose no when she asked if you two could watch wheezie while she handled something. rafe didn’t know he was going to spend hours jealous of his sister. well, he wouldn’t say jealous. . more. . envious? yeah, that’s the right word.

you were just showering rafe with attention before the little demon girl attention hogger came along. how dare she, really. rafe glanced to his phone that he sat scrolling on. well. tossing it to the side, it landed on the floor, a loud thud sounding. “oops,” rafe exclaimed, making a show of grabbing the now cracked phone. worth it. “just grabbing my phone. don’t mind me,” rafe added.

you both looked over, but then quickly went back to your conversation. ouch. rafe tossed his phone aside again. so much for that. he walked up to you two sitting at the counter, leaning over while trying to appear indifferent. jewelry. you two were just chatting about jewelry. rafe has some. he has chains and rings.

“do you guys want to see mine?” rafe spoke up. you looked to wheezie, awaiting her answer. wheezie shrugged, “nah. i see your jewelry all the time. it’s nothing new,” then went back to examining the necklace you wore.

rafe frowned, “rude.” you hid a little smirk, explaining to wheezie that rafe actually gifted you the necklace. rafe smirked, “yeah, because i like her. more than you. you don’t even know her.” rafe boasted.

you turned to rafe, raising a brow. rafe looked off, pretending something caught his interest. you tilted your head at him, turning back to wheezie. “are you hungry?”

rafe, still turned, thought you were asking him. he shrugged, “i could eat.”

wheezie rolled her eyes, “she was talking to me. yeah, i am. i think we have leftover salad,” she told you.

you nodded, walking to the fridge. when you turned to place it on the counter, you looked to rafe. “does rafe want to tell me something?”

rafe crossed his arms, tilting up his chin, “rafe does not.”

you inched closer, “is rafe sure?” and rafe just couldn’t resist you, okay? he dropped his arms dramatically, turning to you. “it’s like you forgot i’m here. that little spawn doesn’t need your attention, she can get her own salad. it’s salad. and maybe i’m hungry too. i’m not, but maybe i was. i want you to look at me. . i also broke my phone but it’s not your fault.”

your eyes widened, about to ask rafe what happened, when he stopped you, “i said it’s not your fault,” he shrugged.

wheezie sighed from behind you two, “pathetic.” rafe frowned, glancing at her. you turned as well, “wheezie. .” you added a little edge to your tone.

she shrugged, raising her hands in mock surrender.

you turned back to rafe who was eyeing the salad bowl. it’s freaking salad. “she came up to me, rafe. i was just going to let her do her own thing, i didn’t think she would want to talk to me. but she does, and i really appreciate that, i seriously didn’t think she’d deem me cool enough.” you explained.

rafe nodded, “yeah, it’s cool. i shouldn’t be jealous or anything, which i’m not. .” rafe turned to wheezie, “call your stepmother and tell her you want to leave.”

HIMBO .ᐟ RAFE ┆having you as his wallpaper ✶

❝ you’re so pretty, my love ❞

a little desperate rafe 𖥔 cute possibly creepy behavior 𖥔 he attempts math 𖥔 himbo .ᐟ rafe’s introduction

rafe scrolled through the streaming app, looking for something you two can watch. he came back earlier, groaning about how much he missed you and wants to file a legal complaint on his boss for keeping him away from you for too long. you tried explaining that wasn’t a legitimate reason, but he wasn’t having it. he now has a lawyer on speed dial.

“ooh, that one,” you said as he passed a horror movie you’ve been meaning to watch. rafe continued to scroll like you hadn’t said anything, “maybe after . . i can’t even spell or pronounce that,” he muttered. you turned to him, realizing what you said, “oh, right sorry. you’re scared of them.”

rafe’s head steered back, pulling a face, “not scared. normally uncomfortable at an average amount,” you nodded defiantly, “yes, exactly. my boy is scared of nothing.”

rafe perked up at your words, “your boy . . ” he muttered to himself. you went to poke at him again when a phone dinged. you picked up the one next to you, assuming it was yours. well, your wallpaper certainly isn’t you. it was a picture you sent rafe from your usual photo dump to him. photo dumps he begged for. at least once a day, he sent you a ‘photo dump please’ text with a praying hands emoji.

the picture wasn’t anything crazy, just you doing something silly. you turned the phone to rafe, “i didn’t know you saved these,” you said with adoration in your voice. rafe glanced over, smiling when he saw the picture, “that’s my favorite so far. you’re so pretty, my love. look,” he reached over to hold down the screen, more wallpaper options showing up. you scrolled through them, seeing he had multiple wallpapers of you.

you couldn’t help your smile growing bigger, “rafe, that’s so cute,” you scrolled some more, coming across a picture you haven’t seen before. your brow furrowed, “what’s this one?” you showed the phone to him. rafe stared at it, not knowing what to do, “i don’t have a photo album of pictures i take of you when you’re not looking, if that’s what you’re asking.”

you nodded, “uh huh . . and hypothetically, how many photos are in that album?”

rafe shrugged, doing the counting in his head with his brows furrowed while staring at the ceiling. he made motions with his finger in the air, doing math. why is he doing math? “about a hundred, why? i mean hypothetically.”

THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE SHIT YOU CAN NOT USE MY WORK

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: sleeping (not the dirty kind of sleeping) & cuddling with rafe

warning(s): none

“oh man…” rafe breathes out, his steps unstable with blood covering his hands and tear stains on his face as he practically stumbles inside your room.

“I’m… I’m so fucked man… so so fucked…” he mumbles, his words rushed and frantic. you rush to your feet after getting up from the bed, watching how he nervously paces in your room, his fingers slipping into his curtain bangs and pulling on the roots aggressively.

“somethin’s… somethin’s seriously wrong with me and…” he hiccups, his gaze fixed on the floor of your room as he continues to pace, and you watch him with bated breath, your hand gripping on the edge of your bed to keep yourself supported as you watched him with wide, nervous eyes, “and I don’t know what to fuckin’ do…”

you let out a shaky breath, a breath only audible to your ears as you continue to watch his nervous pacing. in your time of knowing rafe, you’ve never seen him so… fidget-y. you can see how he keeps on reaching for his nails to chew on them, his other hand nervously rolling a certain patch of the hem of his shirt over and over again between his index finger and his thumb.

almost suddenly, he quits with the pacing. he stands there still in the middle of your room, his back towards you. he quits with the fidgeting too, his both hands now resting on his sides, the blood on his knuckles now starting to dry up, and you can see how subtly he is flexing his fingers.

a moment of silence passes over you two. you take in a deep breath and it lodges in your throat as you start to take small, silent steps to him. you stand behind him, so close that with a soft nudge to the back of your head, your nose will press into his back. slowly, you bring your hand up, and as if he’s the most delicate porcelain doll on this planet, you place your hand on his back.

his back immediately flexes, and you hear him take a sharp intake of breath. your hand doesn’t move, your fingertips just gently pressing into the cotton of his shirt. a moment passes over you two in complete silence, and when rafe doesn’t say anything to you, you take it as a small sign and press your fingers firmer into his back.

you start to softly glide your fingertips over his back in an up and down periodic motion, and you hear rafe letting out a strangled exhale. your eyes flicker over his shoulders and you see them relax ever so subtly, the tense posture of them slowly withering away.

you continue with the soft motions of your fingers and rest your forehead against his shoulder blade, taking in a deep breath. your other hand curls around his fingers and you ever so carefully intertwine your fingers with his, not caring if any blood from his hand gets onto yours.

“rafe…” you whisper into the still air of your room. your voice reverberates in rafe’s ears, and he lets out a soft hum.

“turn around please…” you murmur, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. he obliges, slowly turning around and you lift your head up from his shoulder blade. he looks in your eyes through his own bloodshot ones, and at that moment you know you’ve never seen anything more heartbreaking than tears in rafe’s eyes.

you hook your arms around his neck and pull him into a warm embrace. for the first few seconds, rafe is stiff. really stiff. it’s almost like he doesn’t know what to do. but you know you’re supposed to give it time. you gave it time and he was okay with you softly rubbing his back, he’s going to be okay with this too.

and okay he is.

his arms wrap around your waist and his face buries into your neck. his grip tightens, as if he’s afraid he’ll let go and you will disappear into thin air. he lets out deep, shaky exhales against the skin of your neck, as if trying so desperately hard to keep himself in control.

“i’m here for you…” you whisper softly, your fingers playing gently with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

those words… those simple words seem to set off something in him nothing ever has.

tears start streaming down his eyes, and this time, he doesn’t let them restrict in any way possible. he lets the tears fall, years and years of anxiety, the pain of not being enough, the tiredness of working too hard to prove himself all falling down to this exact moment; the moment where he lets his walls crumble down.

sobs erupt out from his dry throat and he slowly slides down on his knees in front of you, his arms wrapped tightly around your hips as he nuzzles his face into your stomach, crying his eyes out into the fabric of your shirt.

you feel your heart ache at the sight, him hanging onto you so desperately, and you try to comfort him by threading your fingers through the silky strands of his hair.

it’s as if you can see the remains of his crumbled walls around his knees. you can see how he’s completely let himself go, how he’s letting his most vulnerable state come out, how he’s trusting you deeply.

now it’s up to you and only you to help him clear the rubble of the old walls and build new ones, ones which allow him to trust and be trusted, ones which allow him to love and be loved, ones which allow him to appreciate and be appreciated.

— —

“And when your skin touches mine, I get goosebumps right away”

Touchstarved!Gary smith x gn reader

══════════════════════

Physical touch, the love language so commonly found in the bonds between people. You learned to refrain from doing so with Gary, but why does he feel weird when you accidentally touched him one to many times?

★ Word count: 2k

an: sooooo I finally finished the prompt from this post here, and idk how to feel. I'm not used to all this fluff I need to cleanse my pallets with some rough angst. Buttt if ya'll like this, want it to be longer, or other weird prompts, my requests are always open 🌚

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

It’s a weird concept, human nature almost for such an intimate thing to be such a problem for Gary’s well being.

He always pushed people away—not in the emotional, you’ve done wrong kind of way. He only pushed away when someone was getting too close to him inwardly emotionally, and physically.

He thought it’d make people look up to him, treat him with high regard for his sense of power over himself. But really, who is really at a loss for such a boundary? The boundary that only existed because he could never really see how much it’s affected him.

Today was going to be the test of that, a lazy warm afternoon spent outside next to you. A seemingly calm atmosphere, but the real mental turmoil only to come sooner or later.

“...Gary, when was the last time you cut your hair?” That’s the only thing your eyes were locked onto, the conversation flowing as it normally would when the two of you were together. But the simple, cut throat question made him visibly look taken aback like you told him off.

“And why do you care so? Are you gonna cut it for me?”

“Now…You of all people should know I would fuck your hair up beyond saving.” He couldn't even respond, knowing the sarcastic joke was bound to backfire, especially with your literal take on everything he says.

How the two of you became friends? Neither one of you really knows the answer to that; and it was probably best to leave that question unanswered.

“I care because your hair is covering your eye, it’s distracting me.”

“Distracting you how exactly? It’s not like it’s your hair.”

“It just is! Can you even see?”

“It doesn’t bother me.” His words were stern with a defensive manner not usually differed from his usual tone of voice—tension, all because you asked a question.

He didn’t talk, only looking beyond at something else like he usually would in an attempt to clear his chaotic mind.

The leaves on the trees growing back in time for the changing seasons.

The cool wind smelling of something sweet and indescribable.

His itchy green sweater, the threads sticking out near the cuffs of his sleeve.

…Yea, that’s what he'd decided to focus on.

Only, he couldn’t even begin before he felt something brush his forehead—soft with a warm touch behind it and go all the way around his face.

He froze, the frayed sweater, or anything else for that matter not even capturing his attention anymore.

Tenderness, affection, the feeling that made his stomach feel like it’s full of butterflies and feel unexplainably warm inside. It was all because you moved his hair, and tucked it behind his ear.

“There, now you can see me.” You leaned back, seeing his widened eyes and frozen stature like he just saw a ghost—but it was only the exact opposite of the feeling.

“What did…you just do.” His skin felt warm, face heating up not even having the capacity to spit out the words he really wants to form.

“Uh I moved your hair, something wrong?”

“No...nothing at all." It was awkward really, the silence after his weak attempt to defend himself didn’t help either.

Was he…blushing? Mainly, it was the embarrassment knowing his perfectly crafted persona was crumbling right inwardly inside of him, and showing on the outside.

“Well I have to go then, my club meeting starts soon.” You stood up, dusting yourself off and beginning to walk away. Gary thought it was over, the end so he could recoup, and figure out what happened to him.

But something else made the same warm fuzzy feel come back. Flustered, electric shocks shooting down his spine as he felt your soft touches on his back, a wiping motion that made him stiffen up and break his neck to look at you.

“Sorry! There was something on your back, I couldn't resist.” You wiped your hands on your side, not even realizing the catastrophic damage you’ve done to Gary’s mental.

“Why do you keep…touching me?” It was meant to come off as a question, but the tone instead was laced with disgust, and his screwed face didn’t make it any better.

“Well excuse me for trying to help you not look crazy. You really need a new sweater.”

“And you need a new attitud–” He hitched his words, feeling your arms wrap around his side, and the weight of your head on his shoulder.

He could smell the hair products laced through your hair—the musky, sweet fragrance you always sprayed on that lingered in the room after you left.

If his face wasn’t heated with embarrassment before, it definitely was now.

“And to answer your question, I only touch you because I know it pisses you off.” You pulled him closer, hugging him tighter expecting him to push you off any minute.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Knowing the warm feeling inside him from the tight embrace he’s rejected his whole life, would soon disappear.

He didn’t know how long it was, but you eventually had to be the one to pull away from him.

“...You’re acting strange today. Did you get your meds switched again?” It was genuine concern, but also confusion really.

Gary, flustered? You couldn’t believe he would ever let himself be seen that vulnerable.

But here he was, cheeks pink and the active picking of his sweater again—purposely turned away from you so you couldn’t see the extent of his flustered state.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Uh okay…I’m gonna get going to my meeting then, weirdo.” The last words were mumbled, but of course he heard it before you turned on your heel and marched to the entrance of the school.

Now, this was only the first instance of this happening. But it seemed to worsen even more with time.

Gary had problems with hyper focusing on things—looking way too deep into something that doesn’t deserve the time of day.

And ever since then, he hyper-focused on the people around campus, their daily interactions—how normal it was to touch people.

Special handshakes between friends, hugs shared before saying goodbye and going to class. Small, minute movements like linking arms, holding hands, and pecks on the cheek.

It’s all stuff he craved, depleted from for so long he never even realized what he was missing out on. An extremely touch starved, unknowingly needy Gary waiting for the next time you'd accidentally touch him.

The first instance of his…problem, you could ignore it. The second time he almost flipped out because you grabbed his hand to drag him somewhere, snatching his hand back and rubbing it like you really hurt him.

Instances like this happened, over and over again he’d feel his heartbeat spike, face heat up with the endorphins that release in his brain working overtime to make him feel like all the stressors of his life were lifted right off his shoulders.

He doesn’t know what happened to him—mind racing trying to figure out why now he was feeling like this.

But he knew he was going to have to get it in check real soon.

“Gary you’ve been acting real weird these past few days, something wrong?” You leaned back, dropping your pencil to look at Gary freeze up, like the words that rolled off your tongue pierced him in the heart.

The two of you manage to be alone together again, the library desolate besides the librarian endorsed in something else, completely negligent of her surroundings.

But, there wasn’t really anything to watch. 

Gary couldn’t say anything back, feeling your eyes ring all over him as you tried to read him, but no words could ever describe what he was feeling.

Was it guilt? Shame that the very thing he swore he’d never need, would come back to bite him in the ass.

“And you still haven’t cut your hair. Maybe you are too broke for the barber.” You thought this would get him going, rally him up for a response so you could at least gauge what emotions swirled through his mind.

You could only do one thing—a full circle moment for Gary when he once again felt something touch his forehead. Your fingers grazing to push his hair to the side, the sparks and oh so mushy happy feeling inside him, making him flinch and immediately draw back inwards. 

The once open, ready to give off whatever attitude he felt like book, now closed off to the world, not even attempting to open up for the person that can understand him the most.

“Okay clearly you don’t want to tell me then? I give up! You can give your silent treatment, or whatever attitude you want. Just…tell me what’s wrong so I can leave you alone.” Your voice raised, face contoured as you sat up ready to tell him off for being more of an asshole than he usually was.

But you couldn’t, the barely despicable words rolled off Gary’s lips, just barely reaching your ears.

“Can you…give me a hug?” His words were choppy, not used to his fast paced flowing conversations.

Gary knew what it was, he wasn’t used to the softness, the tenderness and affection he’s always secretly craved but never had to voice to interject.

This time, he had the courage to finally say it—to finally get what he wanted.

Less to sure, you were stunned, gobsmacked just looking at Gary up and down, and watching the color slowly rise to his cheeks when you couldn’t even give a full response.

“Uh–I-...Gary, is that what’s been on your mind these past few days?” Your words were stuttered, face scrunched in disarray as you tried to figure out Gary’s reason.

Why…all of a sudden he wants a hug? And asked politely for one at that.

“...Partially.” Even though his words, unclear and misconstrued, were of no help to determine his motives.

In the end, it really didn’t matter, because you stood up from your chair and held your arms out, saying all the words he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“Come hereee Gary, I got something you wantttt.” Even in serious-esque moments, you would never pass up the opportunity to tease Gary, the big smile plastered on your face showing so.

But he wasn’t taking so fondly to your jokes today. In fact, if he didn’t look like he was pulled straight from a rom-com movie, he would be offended and ready to yell at you.

“I’m not walking over there, you gotta be the one to…initiate it.” Your face dropped, arms doing the same looking at Gary stand up, but not moving an inch.

Like he really fully expected you to listen.

“Oh so we're being picky now?” The words felt more menacing then it should have, taken as serious as it could’ve been when you saw his face drop, and your arms doing the same.

“Do you need a reminder that you were the one to ask for a hug? Maybe-” Words cut short, arms wrapping tightly around not even letting you get the chance to fully inhale before your next word.

Of course it was Gary’s. He couldn’t bare the feeling anymore, the empty pit inside only sparked up from the smallest inconspicuous touch.

Immediately, his craving for such a feeling was being filled. The electricity sparks of compassion flowing through as he felt your arms lift up, and tightly hug him back with your face snuggled into his shoulder.

It was warming, both physically and mentally to be in someone's personal space, and letting such an intimate moment last for such a long time, he didn’t even realize it was over before the feeling fully went away.

He was stunned, frozen from such a life changing moment. But for you, it was just another Wednesday afternoon, and Gary’s weird flip flop emotions that change at the drop of a hat.

“I never thought I’d hear the day you’d ask for a hug, maybe I’m rubbing off on ya’.” You couldn’t even take him seriously, so that’s when he knew.

He had a lot of work to do to earn such touches without the need to prove himself worthy for one.

Dividers: @strangergraphics @pixopix

Gary Smith x fem!reader

5 times Gary tried prove his existence to you +1 time you finally noticed

an: this is the result of the worst case of writers block known to mankind. If you think he's ooc...he prob is, oops.

1. First Notice

It was easy to not see what was right in front of you—it wasn’t often you were the one being sought after.

People always graze over you—all the attention directed to someone prettier, smarter, funnier. More boisterous and personality compared to the plain energy comparable to drywall you give off whenever someone talks to you.

Well, it was always to ask for something, so why even bother?

A side character in your own life, forever pushed to the sideline, pulled into the game just to be used for someones else's need.

Only a weird, unorthodox student named Gary Smith, not making it any better.

“Hey, you’re the girl that’s always avoiding people. What’s your name? ” It was just after class, the lunchroom that makes you wish the need to eat was cured by a scientific break through.

Loud, everyone with their friends, or just people they can tolerate being around, while you stand out sitting at the table, only now accompanied by the new nuisance of the day.

“I don’t avoid people, I just have better things to do.” The words only partly true, but his face tugged a smirk, your words only hanging in the air wishing you just ignored him like everything else surrounding.

“What, like sitting here alone? Wishing that this lunch room would collapse in on itself so you can have an excuse to not be here.” He leaned closer, something else behind the eyes boring into yours, only for a split second you could see before you broke away.

Disingenuousness—the attempt to ridicule you behind his words is what you saw.

“Look, if this is your weird way of trying to make fun of me, or asking for something. Just tell me so you can leave me alone.” You've said this to so many people, so many times. A broken record on loop waiting for people to finally realize what's wrong.

Gary picked up on that fact quickly.

“I don’t want anything from you.” Cut throat, words hanging in the air seconds before he got up—swift enough you didn't notice what he placed on the table right in front of you.

A red delicious apple, the only substance you’ll ingest for lunch, all because of a favor more confusing than kind.

Did he notice you couldn't even bring yourself to get a lunch? Or was it pity because it made him feel better to talk to the weird girl?

That wouldn’t be out of character for Gary. But this was only the beginning—the first time he noticed you.

2. Pressure

The more the days progressed, the same pattern of problems aligned themselves with you. Bullies having their way snickering when you walk by, teachers forgetting your name and the embarrassment you have to remind them of your existence. Doing things for people so they leave you alone.

The constant reminder of what goes on, and the only peace from it all, stolen away from all the times Gary snakes his way into your life.

“You should really ease up, the infrastructure of Bullworth isn’t gonna crumble if you stop being somebody's stepping stool.” Again, he somehow found your hiding spot, tucked away in the library in a corner not even the custodians bothered dusting.

“I’m not anybody's stepping stool.” A lie, only to push Gary away and finally be left alone with your own thoughts.

But he kept pushing, pressure, like he always likes to do to reach a breaking point in people.

“So why do you act like it? Where’s the real you inside the depressing facade you always keep up.”

“And why do you care?” This is the real question you wanted to ask, seeing Gary’s face shift when you cut him off from him rambling on and on again.

You knew how he was, how he talked down on people and belittled them to make himself feel better. And you’re just an example of that.

“Why do you care so much about how I live my life? I know you talking about it serves no interest to you.” You thought this was it, only, Gary didn’t say anything. Retaliation like you observed he usually would, only the few words that will make you overthink for the rest of the day.

“I don’t know, you’re different from the other students.”

“Different how…?”

“You’ll find out.”

3. Thief

Overthinking wasn't a thing you usually did, but Gary manages to break that streak.

All while you still think he’s an asshole just out to get at you. And your journal diaryis hearing it all.

“He said I was ‘different’ from the other kids. Whatever that means, I don’t like it. “

“Just say you hate me dude, always showing up randomly to do all this weird shit.”

“Like one time, he just straight up told me ‘You should stop living in your own shadow, it’s embarrassing’.”

“Or that one time he threw a granola bar at me and said ‘You never eat, it’s concerning’.”

“Am I that interesting?…no that’s stupid. Gary’s batshit, and I'm delusional.”Finally finishing writing, closing a chapter that will hopefully will forever trap your thoughts.

Luckily you closed your…journal in time before Gary appeared at the lunch table like he usually did.

“What were you just writing about?”

Shit.

“Nothing interesting.” You pushed the journal to the side, sitting up to swiftly steal the apple from Gary’s hand, impulsively taking a huge bite, the juices running down your chin while you think of the next words to say to hopefully switch topics.

“So…h-how’s your day been.” Gary was more amused than annoyed when you chewed through your words; the nervous smile that rested on your face only making it easier to distinguish.

“You’re quite chipper today, you never ask me how I'm doing.” The suspicion laced through his voice, a sly smile as he waited for you to unfold in front of him.

“You’re lying about something, I can smell it off of you. And I feel like this has something to do with it.” Before you could react, his arm reached down the table to grab your journal—heart dropping when you saw him holding it up with the same smile he always has when he’s plotting something.

You tried reaching out, but he jumped back—taunting by holding the book in the air while you tried…and failed multiple times.

“I will literally kill you if you open that.”

“Oh, then I guess you’re gonna have to find a way to kill me then.” Still holding the journal away, he flipped through the pages—each and every page he flipped through taking a year off your life.

“You know, there’s so much to get to know you about in here, think I’ll keep it for a while-” You reached over the table, grabbing his arms so hopefully, he would drop it.

But his grip was tight, and the only thing you got out of the altercation, was the pure embarrassment realizing you sprawled across the sticky lunchroom table.

With a new stain now on your blouse.

4. Insecure

Group projects, the bane of every anti-social student known to the universe.

Though this time around, a new wave of confidence pulled at you—a chance to finally get a group and make yourself known.

Getting a group was the easy part; teachers forcibly assigning you to one when everyone else had already picked their pact.

The hard part, was conversing with a new group of people—ones you know all too well, but they couldn't tell you differently from the next person.

“Okay…does anyone want to help me start the research?”

Nothing, only side eyes and muffled laughs from the weak attempt to hold some kind of false authority.

“Do you guys want to start on the poster board? Note cards? Anything you say, and I’ll help you-”

“Can you just shut up already?!”

“....Excuse me?” The girl's voice boomed—withdrawing yourself inward when everybody snickered from her outburst.

“You heard me, can you stop trying to act like you're all official and shit because you were added last minute to our group.” As soon as she finished speaking, another person spoke.

“Yea I kind of agree…we don’t really know you. Can you just do the research since only one person really needs to do that.” Condescending, feeling it in your bones as your already fragile ego, broke little by little with each statement. Using all of what’s left on you, for one more try.

“But the teacher said all of us need to do research!” But in the end, it was an attempt that was bound to fail.

“Who gives a shit what the teacher says?! Just do as we say and we’ll let you stay in our group, kay?”

“...kay” not even a full response, the others not even catching your words and returning to conversing amongst each other—all without not even trying to include you.

Soon enough, class ended, and you made a b-line to the library—carrying your weight for the project, picking books to read, paper to write on, all of it.

So why can’t you read a single word on the paper?

Arm shaky, eyes blurry with tears spilling onto the pages, biting your lip trying to hold it in all together. Eyes too blurry to see an all too familiar boy sitting across from you.

You didn’t look up—you couldn't, but a box of tissues slid towards you, hitting your shaky hand.

“You know, you’re gonna get a fine if the books come back all soggy.”

“T-Thanks.” You grabbed a tissue, dabbing your eyes dry to finally have a clear site of Gary, arms crossed leaning back in the chair like he always does, his dark eyes only focused on you.

“Don’t let those people drag you down. They’re just to dumb to understand you” You could tell he was gentler with his words—the rude exterior, cracking right in front of you.

“How’d you know that happened…?” You didn't catch on until the sentence fully digested. The feeling of sadness, being replaced with shock when you saw him holding up your journal.

“I mostly guessed, but I must've hit the nail right on the head then.”

“Yea, you did.” He placed the journal back down, you grabbing it immediately to flip through the pages, a question popping into your mind.

“Gary, be honest with me, how much did you read?”

“Not a lot, just enough to finally understand what goes on in that pretty head of yours.”

“...Pretty?” For a split second, you saw his eyes widen, the exterior breaking, all before returning to his usual smug expression.

“Forget I said anything. Let me help you with this project.” It was gone the second you noticed, which for Gary felt like an eternity.

Was it a slip up, or intentional?

The question that ran laps through your mind the entirety of Gary’s ‘help’ with your project, which was actually a session of him doing most of the work, and scheduling another time for him to help again another day.

As you were cleaning up, a strong urge from your gut told you to flip through the journal again.

Superstition? Maybe, but taking the time to go through, everything looked the same. Except for one page, thicker than the rest you flipped to it.

A white envelope fell out, plain exterior, only for the first initial of your name to be on the front in black ink.

Brewing with curiosity, opening it was the obvious next step. And inside read only a few simple words.

“Meet me by the front gate at 12 tomorrow. Don’t worry about missing class with those idiots, I have something better for you. ”

Your heart raced, the decision in your hands.

But the right answer was the obvious one that still makes you feel unsure about how Gary feels about you.

5. Liar

The path to the school's front gate wasn't easy, prefects never made anything easy honestly.

But you made it, now successfully off of school grounds and walking the barren streets. Gary leading the way, but silent, already putting off the vibe more than it originally was.

“Where are we going Gary?” The question was normal, but he made it seem like your just asked for his debit card information.

“It’s a surprise.”

“…Can you tell me what type of surprise?” He didn't say anything back to your question, head facing forward not even attempting to entertain you.

Even though the action itself wasn't that deep, the feeling of being a burden still weighted—head hanging low trying to make yourself smaller so you won’t feel like a bother.

Gary noticed, he always does—and you still couldn’t believe he ever would.

He didn't say anything, only grabbing your hand, calloused fingers intertwining between yours that your heart skipped a beat. Cheeks flushed realizing this was reality.

But why does it still not feel real?

“We’re here.” His hand eventually let go of yours, and instead held the door open for you to walk into a coffee shop. Lines of pastries behind glasses, and the smell of coffee beans hanging in the air with the soft ambient music accompanying the background.

No words formed behind your lips—gobsmacked looking at the menu like you had the money to afford any of it.

But that problem was solved quickly.

“What do you want?” The cashier was already waiting for you to reply, making the stakes even more nerve wracking—making you choose the most basic item you first saw.

“Uh-um raspberry tea.”

“You don’t want any pastries?”

“You can…choose for me. I’ll get our seats.” Voice shaky, you speed walked to the nearest window seat, the guilt piling up for letting Gary pay for all of your stuff. Andhaving the nerve to want a pastry with it.

The debt was piling up, all the favors he does for you, and now this being the cherry on top of a disaster cake.

You saw him walking to the table, now may be your chance to explain how you feel.

“Gary…I’m sorry I didn’t have my wallet on me, I can pay you back tomorrow. And you don’t have to help me with the project anymore, I got-”

“You’re lying.”

“...What?” Gary often said confusing things, cutting through words to say his own to get the point across.

He sat down across from you, the dim yellow light accentuating his sharpened features, and the stitched smugness on his face.

“You’re a real weirdo. You never just let anyone do favors for you, you always gotta push against it like they aren’t willingly helping you.” He paused, carefully watching your expression, predicting the exact move you were going to do.

“And don’t try and deny it, I tend to notice the smaller things in people, and that’s just one of them. Your little diary did most of the thinking for me though.”

“...Why are you doing this”

“Doing what?” His pure bliss set it off, the feeling of guilt finally bubbling over.

“Acting all different and friendly with me! That’s all you’ve been doing for so long, and I can’t get past the fact that this might all be an act. I still remember that day, where you said I was different. I asked why, but you never answered. Just tell me…why are you doing this?” It pained you to spill your feelings—not even knowing if your words would get across to get the answers so desperately wanted—needed almost to finally feel at ease within yourself.

“You’re never trying to be somebody you’re not. That’s what makes you different—that’s why I like you.”

+ 1

“He…likes me? No, there's no way he meant it like that.”

“Maybe misinterpretation! He’s been really close with me, it’s starting to make me feel like I'm the one that ‘likes’ him.”

“...I like Gary, fuck I’M DONE.”

You slammed your journal shut, shoving it into your book bag to pretend like the last few moments, never existed.

It’s been days since you poured your heart out to Gary, the cafe excursion that ended in Gary’s confession-not-so-confession being at the top of your mind.

Did he really mean it? Well, he’ll be there to prove it.

“Where are you about to head to?” Gary sat down next to you, your personal space always an after thought whenever snaked his way near you. You felt the way his skin radiated with heat, the smell of his cologne amplified.

And always, your cheeks feeling flushed with the embarrassment knowing you were too scared to do anything about it.

“Nowhere really. I just like the morning air sometimes.”

“I think I'll enjoy the scenery a little bit.” He did exactly as he said, basking in the rising sun as it penetrated his skin, the morning muggy air making his skin soft, and the words to hang longer.

“How do you feel about me.” Sudden, pulling you out of the calming trance, with the sweating of your palms, the beating of your heart, replacing that.

“I-I don’t know, is there a wrong answer?” A soft chuckle left him, feeling his body moving closer to yours like a passenger trying to make space on a crowded bus.

Only, it was just you two, and the feelings of a thousand things lingering.

“You said I was a liar, that I didn’t really like you.” Your eyes widened, arms flying up to accentuate your words, defend yourself.

“No where did you get that fro-” But it was all for nothing, a kiss cutting off your words.

It was over before you could even realise it.

“Now you can’t say I'm lying.” He leaned in again, his hands cupping your face deeping the kiss. The shock still remained, but him slipping away, and grabbing your hand solidified exactly what you wanted.

everyone knew rafe was madly in love with you since you guys had become inseparable at the ripe age of 14. well, except for you. people would always ask why someone so loving and kind as you would ever put up with rafe and his violent, cruel behavior. the truth was, he never acted that way in front of you. rafe had perfected his innocent act whenever he was around you, and did everything in his power to keep it up. he couldn’t bear the thought of you looking at him like everyone else did, especially when he was so in love with you that he could drop to his knees anytime you talked to him.

that naturally led to you being extremely confused every time someone asked something along the lines of, “he’s so dangerous, you really shouldn’t be hanging around him” or “rafe cameron is bad news.” you would just furrow your eyebrows and respond, “but he’s so nice.”

so it definitely wasn’t pretty when he got caught red handed as you walked in on him and his friends holding JJ by his neck, just about to lunge at him.

“hold him still. what- what do you think? a four iron, right?” rafe’s voice booms through the halls of midsummers, and your face brightens as you finally find him. however as you walk towards the noise, your heart drops as you realize rafe is not actually talking about golf. “alright keep his head still. ‘m gonna line this up.”

“very rafe of you rafe, five on one?” JJ chokes out. “okay if you could please stop talking? it’s very disrespectful when i’m trying to hit a ball alright? learn your etiquette my friend.” you quickly rush in, gasping at the sight of kelce choking JJ and rafe acting as if he’s about to swing. “what the hell is going on?” you let out. rafe’s face immediately drops as he stands up straight, awkwardly clearing his throat as the room goes silent.

“nothing- nothing is going on here okay? this is not what it looks like, JJ here just needed a little guidance on the way out.” rafe says. you turn to look at JJ, who is pleading with his eyes, cuts all over his face. “kelce what the fuck? let him go.” you say, walking over and yanking kelce’s arm off of JJ.

“rafe, seriously. what is this? what are you doing?” you ask, still confused on what you just walked in on. you turn to JJ, leaning down to where his head is hanging low. “are you okay?” rafe’s jaw clenches at the sight of you with him, shaking his head letting out a small “jesus christ he’s fuckin’ fine.” to himself. JJ just gives you a quick smile, whispering “i’m alright i’m fine.”

you walk up to rafe who’s avoiding your eye contact. “you’re out of your mind” you scoff, “you guys are all fucked up.” rafe laughs at the comment, getting overtaken by anger as his facade starts to slip. “out of my mind? OUT OF MY MIND? you’re seriously defending this pogue piece of shit? over- over me?” his voice starts to get louder. “rafe, man chill-” some kook says beside him.

security bursts through the door at that moment, JJ saying something about a ‘criminal trespass’ and how he should be escorted out. you don’t process what’s happening as your mind starts to race, thinking of what would have happened if you didn’t walk in. memories come flooding in of everyone who had ever warned you about rafe.

rafe seemed to have snapped back into his thoughts, as he walked towards you lifting both arms up in ‘surrender.’ “look. how ‘bout we forget what just happened and go back to the party, yeah? i’ll go get us some drinks-” he starts, but you cut him off saying, “no, rafe. tell me what you were doing to JJ before i came in. why are you acting like this? you never do this.” you say as the guys next to you laugh in pure disbelief about how clueless you are of his actions. it makes you feel stupid.

“i wasn’t doing anything, baby. you believe me right? i wouldn’t lie to you. now cmon let’s go enjoy the party.” you scoff at his blatant lie, grabbing his hand and dragging him to a nearby balcony where it’s now just the two of you. “why were those guys laughing when i said that? is this what it’s about? how everyone keeps telling me that you’re-”

“it doesn’t matter what everyone tells you, i-i treat you well don’t i? tonight was just a mistake and you should have never been there-” he rambles, starting to panic at your persistence. “and if i wasn’t? then what would have happened?” you argue.

“nothing- nothing would have happened.” he rubs his palms against his forehead, clearly stressed out. “it just feels like you’re hiding something from me. like everyone else knows something i don’t and they think i’m stupid.”

“who said you’re stupid? you’re not fuckin’ stupid- who the fuck said that to you?” rafe’s blood starts to boil again at the thought of someone belittling you like that over him. “that doesn’t matter, rafe. what matters is you telling me the truth. which you’re not doing.” you cross your arms.

“i am telling you the truth.”

“you swear?”

“i promise.”

⠀. . .⠀you don’t feel like yourself anymore. something isn’t right, and every answer seems to lead back to your loving but reckless boyfriend; rafe cameron.

⠀⠀warnings⠀⠀𓏲⠀⠀light angst,⠀⠀mentions of blood / fighting,⠀⠀emotional exhaustion

something felt off.

you noticed it a few weeks ago, though now that you were thinking about it, it’d most likely been longer.

it started small. you’d cry at things that weren’t sad; a movie you’d seen a hundred times, random videos while scrolling on your phone. if you’d forgotten something and only realized until you drove away from your house.

summary: confessing your feelings to your best friend is hard.

warning: she/her, fem!reader, cursing

an: I wrote this in 2023 & finally finished & polished it a bit. It’s was inspired by it’s still cool if you don’t by briston maroney. It’s short & sweet! Hope you enjoy <3

This was stupid.

It definitely wasn’t the right time to drop a bomb like this.

All these thoughts rattled her brain like a pin ball machine. But it felt like if she didn’t do it now or soon she could miss out.

“But it’s cool if you don’t,” she shrugged trying to act nonchalant. Like she didn’t feel like her life was just flipped upside down. Wishing she could shove her words back into her mouth and sew it shut.

His lips turned up into a playful smirk. He looked like a puppy when he tilted his head slightly. Blue eyes examining her nervous demeanor. He knew her too well and he had been waiting for so long.

“Really? It’s cool if I don’t?” His tone didn’t come off harsh or mean. It was almost playful, a glint of something she couldn’t quite place in his eye.

She huffed a laugh, “Yeah I mean I don’t want to like ruin anything. So like yeah it’s cool. We can just ya know,” You shrugged clearing your throat. Everything around you was suddenly much more interesting to look at because his eyes were becoming too much. Especially since she was pretty sure she was about to get rejected. Then he did the worst possible thing he could do.

Rafe laughed.

Like whole heartedly laughed.

Now she wasn’t nervous or feeling self pity. She was mad. Very mad. He could have rejected her politely but he had the audacity to laugh. She was going to kill him.

She smacked his arm yelling at him, “What’s wrong with you!”

“Hey!” He laughed as she hit him again and tried shoving him towards the ocean a few times. But obviously he didn’t budge. He loved when she got mad because she looked adorable.

“You don’t fucking laugh at a girl when she confesses her feelings asshole!” She continued to yell.

Rafe scoffed, “Excuse me, you made me think you were like,” He moved his hands around like he was trying to find the right word, “friend dumping me. I thought I was being friend dumped.”

She looked at him with a scowl, “What the fuck Cameron.”

“You literally dragged me out to the ocean in the middle of a party going on about how you have something serious to tell me and then you start off apologizing for ruining the friendship,” He crosses his arms over his chest trying not to laugh as the adorable scowl on her face that just deepened with every word he spoke. He wanted to reach out and pinch her cheeks but he knew that would make her even more mad.

She stuck her finger pointedly at him, “This is not the ocean,” She pointed at the waves crashing a yard away from them, “That’s the ocean. We are on the sand.”

He shook his head as his grin widened, “Always with the technicalities huh?”

“Well yeah! Rafe I wasn’t going to friend dump you idiot,” She scoffed.

He held his hands up with a cocky smirk, “Excuse me for not being able to read your mind.”

“You know forget it if you’re just gonna joke about this then whatever forget it,” She began to stomp away to look for a quiet place to cry.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could get too far, “Hey, it’s not a joke to me.”

Her furrowed brows softened as a small frown formed on her lips getting herself ready for the rejection. His hand on her wrist was starting to feel like it was burning her skin. She didn’t want him touching her if he’s just going to say he wants to stay friends. The comfort of his touch was just a painful reminder of what will never be more.

“I don’t think it’d be cool if I lied and said I’m not completely enamored with you,” Rafe’s thumb rubbed small circles on the inside of her wrist.

Her eyes softened and did that doe eyed thing that gets Rafe to do anything she wants, “Really?” It was pathetic how fast he could win her over again.

He nodded a sincere smile appearing, “Why do you think I’ve been flirting with you for the last five years.”

She rolled her eyes, “Rafe you’ve literally been with other girls.”

“Okay that was only during my low moments when I thought there was no chance of us,” He defended.

“Why did you never say anything?”

“The same reason it probably took you this long to tell me. I was scared of losing you completely.”

She sighed, “Cameron you’re the flirtiest person in the world how was I supposed to know that it was more than just your personality.”

He scoffed playfully, “Sweetheart I do not flirt with everyone. Have I ever called another person sweetheart and helped them move out of their dorm on the other side of the country?”

She groaned, “No but-“

He interrupted, “Or driven in the middle of a hurricane to pick them up so they’re not stuck alone all night. Or know their order from every restaurant in town. Or-“

“Okay! I get it!” She exclaimed not wanting to keep hearing about how oblivious she’d been the last few years. But there was a part of her that still didn’t believe him.

She sighed, “I just didn’t think you’d feel that way about me because well,” she motioned to herself, “I’m just me.”

He pulled her in closer with the hold he still had on her wrist, “Yeah exactly. You’re you.”

She stared up at him with a deadpanned look, “Rafe you haven’t made the situation better. That is exactly what I just said.”

He reached up and held her jaw as he chuckled. His thumb softly rubbing her cheek adoringly, “You’re you. The prettiest, funniest, smartest, kindest, most understanding person I’ve ever known. I like you for you. Because you’re you. No one compares to you. I want to start and end my days with you. Watching you be with anyone but me has been the greatest heartache. I never thought I’d be good enough for you but I really really want to try to be.”

Her eyes widened with that look again, “Oh.”

He brushed her hair behind her ear, “So will you go on a date with me? It’s cool if you don’t.” He really loved teasing her.

Her cheeks burned as she rolled her eyes lovingly, “Well of course I will. Especially after all that.”

Rafe moved his hands down to the small of her back pushing her even closer to him, “Yeah you like when I remind you how perfect you are?”

Now this was a Rafe she hadn’t seen. The one she had been dreaming of late at night. Especially after that moving day. His arms looked so big as he lifted boxes and installed curtain rods. She imagined being in those arms just like she is now. She also imagined being caged between them as her legs rested on his shoulders as he relentlessly pou-

“You there?” He asked with a smirk. If his mind went to the same place as hers he didn’t show it.

“Mhmm,” She nodded swallowing thickly.

He sighed sounding disappointed, “I’d kiss you right now but I kinda want to wait for that date. Make it romantic and shit.”

She snorted, “and shit.”

“Mhmm don’t worry I’ll make it worth your time,”He smirked and wrapped his arm around her shoulder beginning to lead her back to the house where the music was playing loudly. Splashes from the pool could be heard and the murmur of young adults talking and laughing.

She poked his side teasingly, “I didn’t know you had such a way with words. Your greatest heartache. Enamored. Who are you Rafe Cameron?”

He kissed the top of her head, “You bring out the poet in me I guess.”

“You’re so corny,” She laughed.

“I’ll be corny all day every day if it means I get to hear you laugh.”