bibliophilewednesday

[bibliophilewednesday]

I loved this story, Rafe and the reader so much!

Cant wait to see what you write next 🩷🫶🏻🙌🏻

Learning to Love Epilogue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

Part 10 ←

Masterlist

Rafe wasn’t sure what to do. Now knowing you had overheard some of his conversation he knew how bad it looked. He was prepared to fix it, thing was he needed to come up with a plan. He was tired of dancing around you, never truly saying what he actually meant. This time he was going to prove to you that he wanted you and no one else. He wanted you exactly the way you were. The only problem was how do you convince a girl she’s worth it when she’s spent her whole life thinking she’s not? So Rafe was going to take his time because he was prepared to spend the rest of his time with you. That was until Mila sent him a new text.

Mila

A wave a sickness quickly washed over him at his desk, hand tightly gripping his phone as panic slowly replaced that sickness. The idea of you on a date made him want to kill whoever the hell the guy was and he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was. Slamming his phone down he dialed the pager on his desk phone to his assistant Kaitlyn.

“Yes Mr. Cameron” she answered almost instantaneously. After all of this he needed to remember to give her a raise.

“Get me AJ, now” and Kaitlyn scrambled out an okay while Rafe tried his best not to seethe at the thought of you trying to erase him completely. It’s only ten minutes later when AJ walks through his office door.

“Kaitlyn said you needed me” the smile on her face suggests she’s assuming some kind of hookup but when she spots his angry face she realizes fairly quickly this is not the case.

“You have a Tanner that works for you down there” Rafe nods his chin down to where AJ’s marketing floor lies.

“Yeah, Tanner Mason. He’s one of my best” she says fondly of her workers and Rafe nods as he processes his thoughts.

“Yeah, well today he’s just too good. I need you to up his work load, enough paperwork he won’t be getting home until midnight tonight. I don’t even care if you have to send someone home to do it” AJ quickly furrows her eyebrows, confused at what was going on.

“I don’t understand” she says, confused why Rafe who should have no clue who this worker is, is suddenly targeting him.

“Tanner has decided to ask my girl on a date, one he thinks he’s attending tonight, I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen” AJ wears a surprised look, realizing how serious he is right now.

“Why would she even be going out with him if she’s dating you?” AJ instantly questions, looking to place blame on her but Rafe just sighs.

“She dumped me and didn’t even say why. So I’m going to get her back. Whatever means necessary” the shocked face that crossed AJ’s features doesn’t surprise Rafe, yet he doesn’t back down.

“I guess I can send Emmet home, tell Tanner he’s sick and I need a completed ad by the end of the day” AJ finally says after a beat and Rafe smiles a sly grin.

“You’re the best AJ” he says and AJ rolls her eyes as she begins to stand up.

“You’re lucky we’ve been friends so long and I’m partial to you actually being in love. Believe it or not but there was a point in time I didn’t think you were capable. It’s nice to see you care so deeply about someone” and Rafe knows she’s referring to him never reciprocating her feelings during their time together. He would feel guilty but after all of this he knows now you can’t help who you fall in love with, you’re just along for the ride.

“It feels nice” he tells her and she lets out a chuckle before heading towards the door.

“You owe me, and I want to be front row at the wedding” she tells him and the blush that crosses his cheeks surprises her.

“Anything you want” and she accepts this answer before leaving the office and towards Emmet’s. She would’ve sent him home even if Rafe gave her no reason. Everything Rafe did had a purpose.

Rafe now content with the start of his plan being set in motion glances at the picture of you on his desk. The selfie you had taken in his lap that day you were here. He knows now he’s never going to move it, loving having your smiling face looking back at him. He was determined to have you smile at him like that again so he finally responds to Mila’s text.

Mila

Rafe didn’t care that she called him out on his behavior. He used to be a very different type of insane and she should be glad that this was the only crazy thing he was willing to do these days. You had changed him for the better and he wasn’t going to lose you now. He needed it to at least be real. To know that sleeping with you made it official and not some way of using you. He wanted you the way you were forever and he was willing to go back to his old ways to make it happen.

“He’s not answering me” you groan to Mila on the couch. You had been dressed for your date for the last hour, waiting for Tanner to pick you up but so far it hadn’t been done.

“Maybe he got caught up at work, I mean you know the boss” Mila snorts out and she’s glad her acting is good enough that you can’t tell she’s internally panicking. Rafe had her delete Tanners message, one where he informed you he got stuck at work and would have his phone off the rest of the day. You’re oblivious and Mila is praying this plan doesn’t blow up in her face.

“That’s not funny” you tell her with a pout but before Mila could say anything the doorbell rang. You nervously scrambled to answer it only to be met with an older gentleman and a limo in the street behind him.

“Hello Miss, Tanner is running a bit late so he’s asked me to escort you to the restaurant. Are you all set to go?” the formality shocks you and Mila realizes fairly quickly Tanner wasn’t the one who sent this limo at all. In defense of her best friend she should stop her but even Mila knew Rafe wouldn’t have planned all of this without purpose.

“Damn, a limo! Can I tag along just to ride?” Mila asks and the chauffeur just smiles at her, told to comply with any requests.

“Could she please?” you ask the man and he nods quickly.

“Of course, what fun is a limo without guests” he says before stepping out the way and gesturing in the direction of it.

“Thank you!” you say before grabbing Mila’s hand and rushing her to the limo. You had been full blown panicking now, not having gone on a real date in ages. Now it was even more intimidating riding in a limo there.

“God, drink some champagne and chill” Mila says when she spots your nervous behavior in the back of the limo. She was already on her second glass.

“I am chill” you defend as she hands you a glass that you have down in two full gulps.

“Yeah right” she mutters as you hold out the glass, awaiting her to pour more. She obeys and doesn’t say anything more as she lets you drink in peace and sits beside you in support.

It’s not long until the limousine pulls up in front of one of the most beautiful restaurants you had ever seen. Never would you have guessed a marketing job would provide such big bucks like this, yet you don’t complain. All you do is glance at Mila who has now ditched the glass to drink champagne straight from the bottle. She smiles and gives you a thumbs up which is all the confidence you need to leave the car when the chauffeur opens the door.

“Thank you…” you trail off, realizing you don’t know his name as he releases your hand from helping you out the vehicle.

“Harold” he tells you and you smile softly.

“Thank you Harold, sorry you have to deal with her alone” you gesture back to the car with a chuckle.

“I heard that!” Mila calls from inside and Harold lightly laughs with you.

“Tanner should be here soon, just tell the hostess you have a reservation under Tanner Mason” he informs you and you nod, filled with nerves because you didn’t even know his last name was Mason until now. You suppose that’s the whole point of going on this date though, getting to know each other. So you walk into the restaurant anyways and do as told where a hostess leads you to a private booth, jazz music playing over the chatter of people, and candles lighting up the dim table.

“Sorry I’m late” a smile crosses your face before you even register that it wasn’t Tanner’s voice. Rafe notices how quickly the smile vanishes as he slides into the spot where Tanner is supposed to be.

“Why are you here?” you glare, not in any mood for a stunt of his tonight. You were moving on, trying things you never had before. You didn’t need him here and messing it up.

“Tanner got caught up at work, something about a coworker being sick and a deadline to meet by tonight” Rafe says this sentence so naturally but you know he has something to do with it. Tanner would have never planned a date let alone not contacted you about it, yet you suppose Rafe had something to do with that too.

“So what? you thought you’d just come and fill in. Take his place for the night?” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest and immediately thinking of ways to get out of this restaurant.

“Try forever. You shouldn’t be with him Y/N! You should be with me” he groans out, hands fisting the table cloth in front of you both.

“That’s never going to happen” you say with the shake of your head, trying to look anywhere but him.

“Why? We spent that night together, I thought it was finally real. That you would finally let me love you and instead you blocked me on everything!” he countered and as much as hearing that he wanted you that didn’t change fact.

“Really Rafe, me too! Which is why I came by your office as soon as I could just to hear you talking with AJ about your current sex life. How shocked she was to hear you’d sleep with me at the same time as her. Luckily I left just as I heard you start talking about not being attracted to big girls” Rafe instantly goes back to that conversation in his head, realizing AJ had used present tense when talking with him.

“I haven’t slept with AJ in over two years. I cross my heart, I haven’t even been with anyone the entirety of the time we spent together. You have to believe me” he begs, needing you to know it wasn’t true. He was desperate for you to know it was true.

“Even if that’s true Rafe, I can’t be with someone who isn’t attracted to me. I get that I’m no beauty standard and I understand my body isn’t the healthiest but I deserve to be loved for all the things that make me, me. That includes being overweight” you say, fighting the tears that burn at the back of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry over him anymore. It wasn’t worth it.

“You don’t understand Y/N, you walked away before I could finish that day. I was saying I had never been attracted to big girls before and up until now I didn’t know why. You’re so beautiful, I love everything about you. I love the way your hair always falls in your face and how when you laugh to loudly you cover your mouth with your hands. Beauty isn’t a standard, it’s just in the eye of the beholder. Anyone is beautiful when you love them and baby I love you more than you know. I love you so much that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. As long as I have you, no other girl in the world matters” and the tears break free in full force, shock painting your features as Rafe’s words resonate with you. You want to believe he’s lying but what reasoning would he have? Based on his own tears in his eyes you realize that Rafe is telling you the whole truth for maybe the first time in the entirety of your relationship with him.

“You love me, exactly the way I am?” you can’t help but ask and Rafe chuckles, reaching long arms across the table to brush away your tears.

“I do, I love you more than anything and no matter what happens I always will” he says, sincerity cracking his voice and finally a smile appears on your face, chuckling through the tears.

“Well how in the hell did that happen?” you ask, the backs of your hands wiping the tears from your face while Rafe laughs at your words.

“I don’t know, guess it’s got something to do with this really cool girl I met in a bar” Rafe says and finally you stand from your side of the booth, rushing over to his own where he happily accepts you into his arms.

“You promise it’s real, everything?” you ask and Rafe smiles, a hand reaching and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“It always was” he tells you and that’s enough for you to lock your lips against his own. He kisses you like he can’t possible get enough, tongue sliding past your lips as your hands toy with his hair at the nape of his neck. He is everything you ever wanted and for the first time you deserved.

“I can’t believe you hijacked my date to get me to talk to you” you say when you finally break apart, heavy breaths falling past your lips from how deeply he was kissing you.

“I had to do something, you blocked me on everything with no explanation” he says with a bewildered look and you can’t help but laugh before pulling his lips to your own and kissing him again.

“I needed something effective to get you out of my system” you tell him and he grins, squeezing you tightly against him and in no hurry to let you go.

“You remember when we first hung out and I asked you if you had ever been in love before?” he asks you gently after a moment and you nod, softly leaning against him.

“Yeah and I told you I’d like to think I was but I wasn’t sure” you respond, remembering that day in his apartment so clearly. How much fun you had ended up having while hanging out with him.

“I only asked because I had realized I’d never been in love before, but now if someone asks me I can confidently say yes” he says with a grin and you can only giggle at the handsome boy in front of you.

“When did Rafe Cameron become such a sap?” you asked, knowing you’d seen every side of Rafe other than this.

“I’m only a sap for you so don’t go telling anyone” he tells you and for a single moment you’re the happiest you’ve ever been in the arms of the man you love. Rafe was your first and hopefully only love and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life getting to know him even more.

“Who would’ve thought a fake date would teach me how to love someone” you say to him and Rafe grins.

“Is that you finally saying you love me back, because I definitely have you beat on confessions tonight” he teases and you laugh loudly, hand covering your mouth which Rafe removes as he grins back at you.

“I love you Rafe Cameron, bad boy persona and all” you say and he pecks a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Learning to love, who would’ve thought it’d be me” he says referring to the journey you both had been on, going from loners to two people in love with each other.

“I sure as hell didn’t” you say and Rafe smiles just as the wine he had called ahead and ordered arrived to the table.

“This wasn’t Tanners date at all was it?” you ask and Rafe only grins, not embarrassed by his actions at all.

“Nope, this is all me. He texted and cancelled while you were in the shower and I had Mila delete it” he admits and you gasp, lightly smacking his arm as he goes to set a wine glass in front of you.

“You two are devious” you say and he shrugs, arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulls you close and sips from his glass of wine.

“Devious but successful” he tells you and you shake your head before laying it on his shoulder.

“You’re lucky I love you both” you tell him and he smiles, lips pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yeah, we definitely are”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq @theultimatefrenchfangirl @kravitzwhore @chalahyung01 @jenniferpendragon @kitty-marie725 @dlwritings @writevanna @alenerz @h34rtsformilli @just-cuz22 @superbreadsoul

a/n: and that’s a wrap. thank you so much everyone for coming with me on this journey and I hope you fell in love with their story as much as I did. clearly Rafe and the reader have a beautiful future ahead of them, no longer lost in the world. as for you my dear and loyal readers I wish this for all of you, not only find love but learning how to 🤍

[bibliophilewednesday]

he’s so boyfriend

[bibliophilewednesday]

i want him

(pinterest = outerbanksworld ) + (etsy = ecllipze)

[bibliophilewednesday]

New of Drew Starkey meeting fans in Paris !

[bibliophilewednesday]

Guys ?!!! Look how perfect he is.

[bibliophilewednesday]

I WANNA EAT HIM. THE EARRING? THE NECKLACE?, THE SUNGLASSES?, THE MUSTACHE? HIS FINGERS…. I NEED HIM TO FUCK ME TILL I CANT FEEL MY FACE! anyways have a nice day everyone 🥰

[bibliophilewednesday]

the lip bite omg

(pinterest = outerbanksworld ) + (etsy = ecllipze)

[bibliophilewednesday]

It’s a drew thing 📸

[bibliophilewednesday]

NEW OF DREW STARKEY TODAY!!!

[bibliophilewednesday]

Y’all wtf!! Look how he looks ??

[bibliophilewednesday]

isn't he just the cutest human being out there?

© starkeyarchive on x

[bibliophilewednesday]

NOOOOOOOOOOOO howww?!!!

Learning to Love Part 9

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.3k

Part 8 ←→ Part 10

Masterlist

You’re not entirely sure where you are when consciousness reaches you. All you know is your head is pounding, there’s a hand around your waist, and your phone is louder than it has ever been. Blindly reaching for it you find the object vibrating against the night stand before grabbing it and pulling it to your ear.

“Hello?” you groan out, your voice sounding too loud even.

“Where are you? The bar is opening in twenty minutes and Randy has the day off. It’s a Sunday, I cannot work this shift without you” Mila’s words sober you up in an instant and you shoot up in the bed, the hand on your waist falling off.

“Shit, okay I’m on my way” you tell her before hanging up. That’s when you realize you’re naked. Bare as the day you were born and it has your head swiveling to spot the just as naked man beside you.

“Fuck” you whisper out and quickly rush to grab your things. Rafe doesn’t even flinch which proves he was just as drunk as you. Only bits and pieces of the night was still there but if you had to guess, you had sex with Rafe.

You stumble into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door before turning the shower on. You look like hangover and smell like sex, and were definitely going to be late for work. So you shower in record time, using majority of the tiny shampoo and conditioner the hotel provided. You accept your hair will be a mess when the comb provided barely pulls through your wet hair. It’s then you realize you have to pull your dress on from last night and embark on the walk of shame once again.

“Rafe, I have to go” you poke the boy after you’re dressed. He’s laid in bed but he doesn’t even react to your touch. Shoving him a few more times you plead. “I’m going to be late for work”

A low groan came from his mouth before rolling over and revealing his bare ass to you. You gasp out and turn away, accepting he wasn’t going to be moving anytime soon. So you grab your purse and order the uber you remember wanting last night. Once in the lobby you see your ride already waiting and rush to it before people can recognize you’re wearing what you had on the night before.

Sighing it’s not long until you pull up to the bar that is just about to open for lunch hours. Before any customers can arrive you rush in to find Mila working feverishly behind the bar to set up today’s workload. She barely realizes you’re there until you step behind the bar and go to enter the kitchen and find your office.

“Maybe we should start packing overnight bags for work parties” she teases and you rolls your eyes, in search of coffee and food.

“What’s the fun in that?” you tell her before slipping into the kitchen and ignoring the looks your employees gave you. Once locked in your office you find the spare set of work clothes packed away and quickly change. When you swing your door back open, Eddie the head chef is standing in front of it with coffee and a bagel.

“You might need this” he says and you take it with a smile, thanking him, even though you are now morbidly embarrassed for doing the walk of shame in front of people you had to lead.

“Gonna tell me about last night?” Mila asks once you’re back behind the bar, a quarter of the bagel already stuffed in your mouth.

“If I can remember it, sure” and she gasps at you and that’s when you’re hit with the memory of the elevator ride. Rafe’s hands on your hips and how he had squeezed your ass. Mila watches as realization crosses your face. “Oh God”

“Okay, now you have to tell me” she says and more floods back, him pulling you into the room. How he had undressed you and how good his hands and mouth had felt all over you. How you had pulled his pants down so eagerly. How he had his head inbetween your legs.

“Damnit, we had sex” and Mila doesn’t understand your disappointment before letting out a squeal and jumping up and down like a school girl.

“This is so great!” she squeaks, coming to squeeze your arms but then she catches the forlorn look painted on your face.

“Mila I barely remember it and on top of that what if he didn’t like it and I was too drunk to notice” you pout and she rolls her eyes before crossing her arms.

“Of course he liked it, I mean what did he say this morning” and you give her a sheepish look that has her gasping out loud.

“You snuck out on him!” she gives your arm a quick whack and you yelp before holding where she hit you.

“It wasn’t like that, you called freaking out and I couldn’t get him to wake up. I was already running late so I just called an uber and sent him a text explaining why” Mila was burying her face in her hands and groaning at her silly best friend. She didn’t care if she was late if it meant her best friend was finally comfortable enough to be with another man.

“That don’t matter, you snuck out after he slept with you. Now he thinks you regret it” Mila tells you and the realization dawns on you. You did sneak out like he was just some one night stand which is so not true.

“Fuck” you groan before leaning on the counter and dropping your head into your arms. You had been in love with Rafe this entire time and you always thought he’d be the one to screw it up. Not you.

“Listen, don’t lose all hope. I’ll see if Randy can come in and you just go and see him” Mila says as she pulls out her phone to already text Randy and beg him to come in on his day off. He would more than likely say yes, Mila had that kind of effect on people.

“I don’t know what to say to him. Hey glad we slept together, don’t take me sneaking out as I didn’t like it” you wished more than anything that you could tell her the truth right now. That it was never real, the relationship was fake and you were the one stupid enough to catch feelings and sleep with the guy. Any chance of keeping him for real was now long gone.

“No, just say you didn’t want to leave but had an emergency here. Once everything was covered you made sure to come back and see him” she says setting a reassuring hand on your back and you sigh.

“I don’t know why I just don’t think sometimes” you groan and she presses her lips together as she gives you a quick hug.

“It’s new to you, trusting someone like that. Just explain that to him” she says and you can only smile at your dearest friend, the one who has always been there for you. Loved you no matter your size.

“Thanks Mila” you tell her and she grins, squeezing you closer, and for once you realize that even if Rafe does break your heart at least you have the best friend in the world to help pick up the pieces.

It takes Randy only an hour to get to your shift and by then you’re in full panic mode. Rafe still hadn’t texted you back and to you that was a sign that he was mad. Whether it was about you sneaking out or the fact he slept with you, you weren’t sure. It was scary either way. Which is why you rush into his condo entrance in a rush.

“Miss Y/N, so glad to see you” the doorman Robert says to you. Rafe had made sure he knew who you were so you’d have no issues getting to his floor.

“Yeah you too Robert, hey do you know if Rafe is home?” you ask, a bit panicked, and knowing your eyes darting around the lobby made it look like something bad happened.

“I’m sorry hun but I haven’t seen him, figured he had a rough night at that party. That’s how it usually goes” he says and you somehow manage to crack a smile.

“That’s true, thanks Robert” you tell him and he nods as you rush back out of the condo complex and back to Mila’s car that she let you borrow. You know Rafe wasn’t still at the hotel, that wasn’t his style. So you set off in the direction of his work, knowing only he would find time to finish work on a Sunday.

Getting into Rafe’s building is much more difficult than the condo. Yet thankfully the woman at the front desk recognizes you and you assume only for being shocked to see you with Rafe in the first place. By the time you’re in the elevator you’re freaking out, unsure of what to say to him as you reach his now empty work floor. Heading towards his office you see his office has the door cracked open. Yet before you push it fully open, a familiar voice stops you.

“Can’t believe you’re still with that girl” you freeze against the door, heart thumping wildly. You lean forward to see those perfect long legs crossed and revealing too much thigh in the tight pencil skirt. If the voice wasn’t a dead giveaway, the blond hair sure as hell was. AJ.

“Come on AJ, she’s a sweet girl. You gotta know that by now” Rafe’s familiar voice envelopes you and your heart instantly slows. It’s in this moment you realize it wasn’t the alcohol that convinced you to trust him last night. You already did. He knew you, and you weren’t afraid anymore to let him see that.

“Well of course I do Rafe, that doesn’t change the fact she’s a big girl” yes you had judged AJ for her looks, because she was perfect. Yet with how nice she had been to you, you didn’t expect this.

“Well obviously AJ, she is a big girl but she’s got a big heart to match. It’s not always about the looks” Rafe’s defense has you calming down but it doesn’t change the fact you’re hearing a conversation you didn’t want to be apart of. Hearing how he didn’t find you attractive.

“But isn’t it? I mean you of all people would never date a big girl, hell based on the way you throw me around the bedroom I’m surprised you’re even still with her” and there’s the kicker, the pierce in your heart. Rafe was still sleeping with AJ. This whole time. Sneaking around with the perfect skinny blonde girl just to be able to deal spending time with you.

“Listen, I have never been attracted to big girls-” but you don’t want to hear anymore. You don’t want to hear about all the ways AJ was so much better than you and you had let Rafe sleep with you when all along he was sleeping with her. So as the silent tears stream down your face you rush away before you hear any of the vile things Rafe has to say. Thing was, you didn’t hear the best part.

“But I don’t know why! I mean AJ, she’s so beautiful. All of the time, and her laugh, it makes my heart flutter everytime. If I could make her laugh forever I would. I spent so long thinking there was this ideal standard of a girl to be with and up until now I realize that isn’t true. It’s not about looks. No one is truly beautiful until you love them for all the pieces that make them who they are. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love until now” Rafe is grinning by the time he’s done talking and AJ chuckles.

“Well would you look at that, Rafe’s gone all soft” and Rafe is rolling his eyes at one of his oldest friends. Someone he never truly loved like that either.

“I guess that’s just what happens when you meet the right one” Rafe tells her and AJ shrugs before sitting up.

“Well softie, don’t work too hard. It’s Sunday and I know that’s the tux you wore to the party last night. I’ll see you in the morning” AJ says as she uncrosses her legs and pushes the chair back. Rafe watches as she leaves the office and smiles with his mind still on you.

That’s when his phone finally buzzes to life on his desk, the charger connected to his computer finally providing power to text you back after this morning. He was a little hurt you weren’t there, but it was you. He knew you had good reason. Which is true when he is met with the text you had sent him this morning. Before he can respond though, another one comes through.

“What the fuck”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq @theultimatefrenchfangirl @kravitzwhore @chalahyung01 @jenniferpendragon @kitty-marie725 @dlwritings

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[bibliophilewednesday]

New Drew Starkey vid via culted on insta, my boy was in Milan Fashion Week!!!

His buzzcut is the hottest thing ever i just wanna bite the tiny bits of his hair (i've finally lost it, jesus christ.)

Also, HIS VOICE? OHHHHH MY FUCKING GODDDdddDddd PLEASE MAKE OUT WITH ME

[bibliophilewednesday]

THE THINGS I WANT TO DO TO HIM.

HE’S SO SEXY, ESPECIALLY IN BLACK, HAVE MERCY PLEASE I BEG 😫😫

[bibliophilewednesday]

fuck poundtown.. I’m taking daddy to soak city over here 💦💦💦

[bibliophilewednesday]

Hey!! I saw that you are taking requests (I also want to procrastinate studying, lol), so I thought I would request a Rafe oneshot where maybe he is helping his girlfriend move into her dorm and a bunch of frat guys start hitting on her and asking if she needs help and he gets all territorial and jealous? Just some cute fluff? Please and thank you, lovely!!!

Move-in day || R. C.

summary: Rafe helps you move in to your dorm but becomes territorial when a guy doesn't get the hint.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i'm not sure i like this one but bare with me i haven't written anything in more then a year so, thank you sm for the request!!! i love how all of you are supporting my procrastination and/or procrastinating yourself haha

warnings: some guy

You unlock the door, revealing your dorm room. It’s very basic and bland but you can’t wait to start decorating it to make it feel more like home and a safe space for you to relax in. There are two single beds on each side of the room. Also two closets and tables for you and your roommate who hadn’t moved in yet. Your roommate was assigned to you by the school since you didn’t have any friends or acquaintances that were also going to this college. You’d much rather share a room with someone you know but it is what it is.

You choose a side of the room and sit on the edge of your new bed, looking around the room and taking everything in. You can’t believe you’re actually here. After all the hard work and applying to many different colleges, you got into your dream school. You’d only dreamed about this place in your head and now you’re physically here.

You then leave the room and on your way outside you dial Rafe who dropped you off and then went to find a good parking spot near the housing. 

“Yeah?” he answers the call.

“Where are you?”

He describes where he parked his car and directs you to him. You already see him from across the parking lot and give him a wave, which he returns with a big smile and a wave of his own.

The trunk of his car is popped open and he’s already stacking boxes into the carts provided by the school.

“How was it?” he asks as soon as you reach him, referring to the room. 

“Pretty okay.” You shrug and grab a few bags from the back seat, slinging them over your shoulders. Then you manage to grab a box of your books as well. It’s heavy but the room is not that far away.

“Are you sure you can carry that much?” he calls after you.

“It’s rude to call your girlfriend weak, Rafe.”

“I’m not calling you weak!” he defends himself.

“Yeah, right,” you laugh. “Third floor, 5th door on the right.”

You leave him unloading the car in the parking lot while you make your way back to the building. On the way to the third floor, you bump into some guys on the staircase. 

“Hey! Need any help with that?” one of them asks, hands already outstretched. Since your shoulders are already hurting because of the weight of the stuff you’re carrying, you accept his help. What were you thinking taking the stairs? The elevator was right there.

He takes the box from your hands and lets out a grunt. “Damn, that’s heavy! What’s in here?” he starts making his way up the stairs and you follow, adjusting the straps of the duffle bags on your shoulders. The dude’s friends follow you two, whispering something unintelligible behind your back but they’re too quiet to make out what they’re actually saying.

“My books.”

The guy chuckles and asks where your room is. You tell him and soon enough you reach the third floor. He pushes open the door leading to the third floor dorms and holds it open for you while you scramble past him to your door. You fish out the key from the pocket of your pants and open the door. 

“You can just put it on the table.” I let the guy into my room while his friends linger in the doorway.

Thanking him, you throw the bags on your bed. He places the box gently on the table and then turns to you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You give him an awkward but polite smile, hoping he’d get the hint and leave now but he leans against the desk, crossing his arms on his chest instead. He looks like he’s not planning to go anywhere.

“You wanna come to a party tonight, Y/N? Bunch of upperclassmen are throwing a little party for the freshmen. You could be my date.”

You stare at him, eyes wide. “Uhmm, thank you for the invite but no. I have a lot to unpack and-”

“Oh come on!” he interrupts. “We could have fun and get to know each other. And drink.”

“No, thank you. I appreciate your help and all but I think you should go now.”

“Don’t be like that! You haven’t even given me a chance.”

“You will not get a chance either way. I have a boyfriend.” 

“So? You’re in college now, let loose. He doesn’t have to know. ”

Meanwhile Rafe has finally made it to the third floor with the two carts full of your belongings. He pushes them out of the elevator and towards your room. Already from the elevator he can see two guys standing at your door, which he finds very suspicious. He faintly hears the conversation going on in your room and his blood starts to boil. When the two guys standing there notice him arriving, they scurry off and Rafe scoffs before entering your room.

“Know what?”

The guy leaning on your desk is startled and he stands up, not so cocky anymore. “Uhh…”

Rafe now stands between you and the guy whose name you don’t even know. He straightens his back and stares him down with that mean look he has but which he has never used on you. The other guy is obviously intimidated by him since Rafe is basically towering over his shorter frame.

“She said no. She has a boyfriend. So I suggest you leave before I punch you in the face so hard no girl will even look in your direction ever again,” Rafe growls.

“Whatever she’s not worth it anyways.” The guy shrugs and turns to leave. Rafe’s fists are clenched by his side and he looks like he’s about to strike when you place your hand on his back, making him look at you over his shoulder.

“Drop it.” Rafe takes a deep breath and you feel his shoulders relax under your touch.

The guy lets out a scoff as he leaves but Rafe’s eyes remain on you. “Are you okay?” he asks, worry laced in his voice as he turns to face you, hands now on your shoulders.

“I’m fine. He just helped me with my books and he got the wrong idea.”

“A very wrong one at that. I was so close to punching him in his stupid face for even talking to you in the first place.”

You place your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under your palm. “You can’t stop every guy from talking to me. You’re not even here most of the time.”

“Watch me.”

“Rafe.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious. But he was a jerk anyway. I go for non-jerk guys.” Your lips are turned into a slight smirk.

“Do you now?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I not a jerk?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“Oh, you definitely are, but just not to me.”

“I’d never be a jerk to you. You know that, baby. But you’re mine. I can’t stand the thought of guys like him talking to you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I know but I can handle myself.”

“I know you do.” But the next time he visits, he hands you a little box which contains a necklace with his name so everyone knows you’re taken.

[bibliophilewednesday]

I enjoyed this chapter even through the hard parts, and I love Rafe😭💞

you’re on your own, kid–chapter eleven

series masterlist

pairing: Rafe Cameron x female reader

word count: 7.6k

warnings: swearing, vomiting, anxiety/panic attacks, depression, mentions of food/food monitoring, ptsd (nightmares, panic attacks) mentions of rape and sexual assault, mentions of eating disorder/throwing up, cocaine/cocaine addiction, counseling, hospitals, mentions of STDs (please let me know if I missed any!)

a/n: if this chapter seems choppy, it’s because it is. I’m sorry. I have to start speeding stuff up or else we will never get anywhere in this series. also the moral of this chapter is that healing is not linear. also I’m sorry for the long wait for the update, I’ve been too busy being insane. thanks for reading!

PLEASE READ: this story will contain dark topics of eating disorders, vomiting, rape, and sexual assault (not by Rafe). Please proceed with caution and do not read if these are triggering topics to you!! This fic is in no way intended to romanticize any type of sexual abuse or disordered eating.

If you are a victim of rape or sexual assault, please know that you are worthy and your feelings are valid. Please contact the following for resources and professionals who can help you:

US–National Sexual Assault Hotline: [phone]/https://www.rainn.org

UK– Rape Crisis England and Wales https://rapecrisis.org.uk

AUS– https://www.nasasv.org.au/support-directory

EU–https://www.rcne.com

Memorial Day weekend came and went, and like most of Rafe’s days lately, it was uneventful.

There were no parades or cookouts this year, and when Rafe wasn’t dodging the calls of all his friends, he was watching Gilmore Girls on the couch with you.

Rafe made waffles on Sunday morning, and okay, they came frozen in a cardboard box and made in the toaster, but he made them nonetheless. It was the first thing you had actually requested food-wise, and Rafe was over the moon thrilled.

“I just don’t understand how they can eat out everyday while living in a large house with a car as a single-income household,” Rafe exclaimed. “Even taking into account the inflation differences of twenty years, it still doesn’t add up. Lorelei couldn’t have been making that much working at the inn.”

You peered at him from the other side of the couch, giving him a half-smile. Rafe didn’t really care about the financial inaccuracy of your favorite show, but he knew proclamation would garner him a response.

“I think we’re to assume Luke gives them most of their meals for free,” you answered.

“That still doesn’t account for all the times they order pizza, get snacks at the market, or go to Al’s.”

The smirk you gave caused him to change topics. “And I knew Dean was bad news. I never liked him—not even at the beginning.”

You smirked again, straightening your legs out from under you and heading toward the kitchen.

Rafe jumped up. “What do you need? I’ll get it.”

You shot him a sideways look. “You’re not my servant, Rafe. I’m just getting some water.”

He nodded, hesitantly sitting back down and watching your every move: the way you had to stretch up on your tiptoes to reach the reusable bottle you wanted and the way you flinched slightly at the sound of the ice hitting the side of the cup. It was like Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you, like if he did, you’d start slipping again, and he would do everything in his power to keep you upright.

Since Monday was a holiday, you got a break from therapy for one day. However, that didn’t mean Rafe was giving you a free pass, he only moved your appointment to Tuesday, insistent that you didn’t fall behind on any progress (or lack there of) you were making.

When Tuesday morning came, you sat in Rafe’s passenger seat listening to Folklore and the Long Pond sessions on the nearly two hour drive.

“Did you know I wrote about The Lakes in an English Lit essay?”

Your question surprised Rafe, but not in the way he was unaware of your Taylor Swift references in your paper on The Awakening. He didn’t expect the question, or for you to speak at all for that matter. Most of your car ride chatter was initiated by him.

“I remember,” he told you. “I also remember you getting into an argument with Mr. Bradshaw over it.”

You let out the closest thing to a chuckle he’d heard in weeks. “Yeah, he said he didn’t understand the connection even though I clearly explained it on the third page. I just think the lazy bastard didn’t read it all the way.”

“I also remember you calling him a misogynist in front of the whole class,” he admused. He saw your smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“He was,” you defended. “He was always harder on the women than he was on the men, because he was all buddy-buddy with most of you since he helped coach.”

Rafe never thought of it in that way, but thinking back, you were right.

“You never saw it, though, because you were one of them,” you continued. “Didn’t you notice how Sean always got As even though he didn’t read a single book all year?”

It was bizarre, especially since the only subject Sean really excelled at was lunch. The only reason he got into the school was because his mother was a board member.

“I guess I never noticed,” he confessed. “Bradshaw deserved it, though. He is a misogynist.” The assistant coach made one too many pointed comments about some of the hemlines for Rafe’s liking, but what was he to do about it? He was just a kid and afraid of retaliation, like any pushback would prevent him from becoming team captain or quarterback after Josh Cook graduated. Everyone else on the team either took part in his games or feared him more than Rafe.

Not you, though. You didn’t care about retaliation or a bad grade on a paper, not when a blatant injustice was occurring.

That’s what Rafe admired most about you: how you were never afraid of doing the right thing. How you’d look fear right in the eye and tear it to shreds, bravely and beautifully all at the same time. The fire in your eyes may have dulled the last few weeks, but it was always there, and Rafe was determined to see their fiery glow again.

You and Rafe got smoothies on the way home from therapy and spent the rest of the day on the couch watching 90s sitcoms and occasionally writing in your journal. When you ate a small bowl of pasta for dinner, Rafe could’ve cried.

Wednesday’s journey carried on the same way, except listening to Fearless and reminiscing silently about the time Rafe sang a horrible rendition of Love Story outside your bedroom window in the middle of the night.

Rafe didn’t remember much of his actions from that night, but he remembers how he felt clear as day. Junior year was when he first started messing around with harder drugs, trying to find a release from Ward’s constant comparisons to Sarah and considerable responsibility with carrying the Cameron name. Getting drunk and smoking weed only helped for so long.

He knew he wanted to marry you for years then (not much has changed in the two years since that had passed), but obviously in his fuddled state he couldn't contain himself. He remembers thinking if he had to wait a second longer his heart might explode all over your front yard.

Kelce and Topper told him it was stupid, and called him a “simp” and “pussy-whipped”, but he didn’t care. You had to realize then how he felt, since you hadn’t before, and what better way to show it than this? Taylor Swift was romantic, and showing up at your window like Rapunzel in her tower was romantic. Fitzgerald and Austen were romantic, and some of your favorite authors. Fearless was such a monumental album for you growing up (Rafe remembers The Way I Loved You blasting through the speaker of your iPod Touch in grade school) and the two of you were casted as Romeo and Juliet in sophomore year English class. It was perfect—it was fate, and everything had a special meaning only you two would understand.

When you looked down at him with your chin up, perched in your windowsill like he was nothing but a nuisance, he thought his life was over. Maybe that was a tad dramatic for a seventeen year old boy, but it was how he felt. All he ever gave you was his heart and you couldn’t even spare half a look of empathy in return.

Why won’t she love me? He asked your father, rather embarrassingly, as for the next time he shook your fathers hand he squeezed a little too tight, giving the boy a look of disapproval. Rafe didn’t blame him, though—if his daughter, who he’d given everything for, captured the attention of a rambunctious teenage heartbreaker, he wouldn’t trust him either.

Your father had sighed as Rafe pleaded to him with tears in his eyes, like maybe having his blessing would change your opinion on him. Your father was the only man you were ever soft for.

Just give her time, Rafe, he told him. You know how she is. She needs to figure things out on her own. Just give her time.

You emerged from the small office with the same glimmer of hope in your eyes that had been there for the last few days. It was the faintest flicker, so small and inconsistent you might miss it if you didn’t look hard enough, but it was there nonetheless. Rafe wouldn’t trade that flicker for all the riches in the world.

The two of you walked across the street to a cafe Rafe had spotted driving in. You opted to stay outside on the bench while he went in and ordered, keeping an eye on you through the storefront window. He was afraid to take his eyes off you, like if he did something might happen to you again, and now he’d be even more at fault.

He watched you chew on your thumbnail as the barista helped the customer in front of him, keeping your eyes constantly moving to monitor your surroundings.

From this angle he was able to see parts of you he knew existed but hadn’t seen in a while, like the freckle on the side of your neck or the scar on your elbow from when he pushed you off the jungle gym as kids. He smiled at the way you chewed on your nail, much like you did before every debate or student body president speech you gave. You never said outright that you were nervous, but he knew all your tells. The two of you may grow older, but some things never change.

Rafe stepped forward to order, paying no mind to the bell dinging on the front door as he asked for a few almond croissants and iced coffees.

The whoosh of air swirling up next to him, along with the loud sigh made him turn his head. There you were, panting quietly, fingers wiggling, standing as close to him as publicly acceptable.

He moved to the side with you as the barista made your drinks. “Are you okay?” He asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You swallowed but didn’t answer, looking down in shame. You said you weren’t ready to see anyone else today, which is why you waited outside. You must not be ready to be away from him yet either.

Though on the inside he was beaming, to finally be needed for once, he knew it was a big deal to you, so he didn’t press it.

You seemed to relax now that you were near him, away from the passing cars who all seemed to be eyeing you and the stranger taking out his trash down the alley on the right.

Rafe led you back outside, drinks in hand, with his other one on the small of your back.

“So I was thinking,” he started as you took a few steps down the sidewalk. “We could go sit on the beach on the other side of the lot. It backs up to the offices, so I don’t think anyone will be there.”

You were silent—not saying yes, but also not giving him a flat-out no before the last word even left his lips, much like every other time he’s suggested it.

You thought and thought.

The hands of his watch ticked by, waiting for your answer. “Okay.”

Rafe was right—there wasn’t anyone on the beach behind the series of townhouses and office buildings. If it was private property, he didn’t care. He was Rafe Cameron after all, and he would break a million laws to get you anywhere other than your apartment or his car.

You sat in the sand, picking the almond slices off your pastry and eating them one by one. Rafe sat close to you, your shoulders brushing every so often while neither of you said anything. It reminded him of prom senior year—the way the sand felt beneath his palms, the way your hair flowed in the breeze, sometimes flicking his cheek. He wondered if you remembered that night, too, but he didn’t mention it.

“How about we play a game?” He asked, licking the powdered sugar off his thumb.

You quirked your brow, urging him to go on.

“How about we ask each other questions, and you be honest with me and I’ll be honest with you?”

You gulped. “What kind of questions?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

Your shoulders dropped, probably anticipating his question to dig much deeper into a topic you weren’t ready to talk about.

You told him, then asked him the same.

“Blue,” he said. “Your turn.”

“What’s your favorite song right now?”

“Misery Business.”

You laughed.

“What? You recently reminded me how much of a banger it is.”

“It is,” you agreed. You offered your favorite song without him having to ask.

“What’s your favorite book?”

You had the audacity to look offended when he told you his was East of Eden.

“John Steinbeck literally made two women fight over him,” you chastised.

Rafe rolled his eyes. “You say Steinbeck and Hemingway were misogynists because they often wrote the female characters as the villains. What you don’t see is that these villains are also extremely powerful.”

“Yes, I’m sure while he was writing all he could think about was how powerful this child-abandoning hooker would seem to high school boys seventy years in the future,” you argued through furrowed brows.

“You got me there,” he laughed. “But Cathy holds power over all the men in her life—Adam and her sons— for years. Aron dies trying to distance himself from her and Cal spends his entire life trying to be different from her. If you don’t see that as power over someone, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Rafe doesn’t miss the tick in your jaw. “Cathy commits every sin imaginable, including the ultimate sin of suicide. He doesn’t respect women—you even see that with Curley’s wife in Of Mice and Men. He doesn’t even respect her enough to give her a name.”

Rafe continued to banter with you as you wiggled your toes in the sand, your Birkenstocks long thrown to the side. He didn’t really care enough about Steinbeck or the way he wrote about women, but he did care about getting you to talk so passionately about the only thing he knew how—books.

Your iced coffees were finished off a while ago, the sand stuck up the edge of the cup where condensation collected. Rafe didn’t mind the sand in his shoes or the sun beating down on his skin, turning it red. He was glad you were talking to him, even if it was as asinine as a game of Twenty Questions. Rafe knew most of your answers already, but you gave him a few surprises.

He also liked you knowing the details about himself, like his favorite Disney princess or his dream vacation spot. It felt intimate, like you were seeing a piece of him you'd never seen before. Maybe you didn’t care to know this about him, or you were too shy to ask, but he was glad to share this piece of his heart with you.

The ride back to the island you listened to Lover, your ‘feel good’ album, and Rafe could only presume it was because you were feeling good. He smiled, keeping his hand on the gear shift, wishing that one day it would be your hand holding his while he drove.

“Another question,” he started. “What are you thinking about right now?”

“Um…I’m thinking that, uh, today was nice,” you sputtered out after a long pause, like you had a hard time accepting a good thing.

Rafe beamed at your admittance. “Me too, honey. I had a really great time today.”

When you got home, the two of you sat on the balcony. You journaled while Rafe picked up your copy of East of Eden, stating your discussion inspired him to pick it up again. He had watched too much TV the last few weeks anyways.

His focus was only half on the words on the page, the other half watching you out of the corner of his eye, your tongue peeking out of your lips and eyes creasing when you scribbled out something you wrote.

“You’ve only turned the page three times in the last twenty minutes,” you said knowingly, setting your pen down and looking up at him for a second.

“I know. I’ve been distracted,” he admitted.

“By what?”

“You.”

Redness creeped up your neck and onto your cheeks. You picked up your pen and finished writing down your thought, the only acknowledgment of his words a subtle hum.

Rafe smirked and fixated back on his page, feeling like the cocky boy he was a year ago flirting with you at the lunch table. He urged to reach over a brush the stand of hair falling out of your claw clip behind your ear, to make you blush even further, just like he would in school.

Instead, he asked what you wanted for dinner that night.

You shrugged, not taking your eyes off what you were writing. He knew to take things slowly. You were just starting to get your appetite back, and after weeks of nibbling on toast and vomiting three times a day, you wouldn’t be back to normal overnight. It was taking a toll on you—he could tell from your sunken cheeks and hollowed eyes, the bones in neck and shoulders protruding more than before.

“How about we order in?” He offered. “Thai? Indian? Pizza?”

You contemplated for a while before deciding. “Thai’s good.”

An hour later you sat across each other on the couch, Rafe watching you as you slowly ate a piece of broccoli stalk-first out of your pad see ew.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, wanting to make sure your stomach was settled.

You nodded, not taking your eyes off the screen where you watched Boy Meets World.

You twirled a rice noodle on your fork and chewed it slowly, eating each ingredient one at a time. Rafe studied you closely, watching each swallow and movement of the fork.

“Stop watching me,” you barked at him.

He stiffened but obliged, turning back to face the screen.

Thursday was spent on your balcony, enjoying the feeling of the ocean breeze running across your skin and through your hair. Rafe picked up where he left off in East of Eden while you started Tender is the Night.

It was silent in the world surrounding you two, the only sounds coming from a car door slamming in the parking lot or a speedboat passing by on the water.

The two of you sat there for hours, in the silence of turning pages until you spoke suddenly, as if you had been working up the courage until now.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he answered, surprised. “Anything.”

“Why are you here with me this summer?” You looked up at him from under your lashes, your body inadvertently shying away from him though your words held strong.

He was astonished. “Because you called.” That was all he really needed to say. Because you called, and I answered, just like I will always answer.

Yet he continued, laying it all out for you like he always did. “It was so out of character for you to need me for something. I knew something had to be bad if you were that desperate.” Even though you didn’t look at him, he could feel the guilt radiating through the air. “Then I found out and–I don’t know, Y/N. I couldn’t leave you like that, all alone. I couldn’t leave knowing someone hurt you and that you were hurting and do nothing about it.”

He felt the lump in his throat grow bigger and bigger with each word he spoke. He can’t leave you in this shattered state you’re in. It physically hurts him to think about, and he can’t know he stood by doing nothing to take the pain from you.

You looked at him, your eyes apologetic yet unyielding. “No, I mean…why are you here this summer? And not at school…or training camp?”

He sighed. He knew it was coming. He knew he would have to talk about it eventually.

Last summer Rafe spent most of his time at UNC, training with the football team for the upcoming season. This year should’ve been no different, especially since it would be the current quarterback's senior year, and this would’ve been a great time for Rafe to show his skills to earn the position for the next season. But just like everything else in his life, he ruined it.

“I’m sure you know already,” he grumbled while running his hand over his eyes, the irritation in his voice bubbling up from a place of his own self-hatred.

“I don’t,” you admitted, your voice unwavering.

He sighed again. “I was kicked off the team.”

“Why?”

He chuckled slightly at your bluntness.

That’s what he loved about you—the way you didn’t care about sounding polite or meek in your quest to find the truth. You asked the questions most people wouldn’t, the ones they’d be too scared to ask, but you spoke the words with a certainty like you were asking the weather.

“The dean found out about the cocaine,” he started. “I think the coach knew already, but my dad made a big donation for him to keep quiet. The dean found out and kicked me off before he had his chance with him.”

All honesty is what he promised you, and honesty is what you would get.

“I’m sorry,” you said, and it didn’t even sound forced. “I know you’re really passionate about football, and I know you worked hard to get there.”

“It’s my own damn fault,” he shook his head. “I didn’t work hard—I got where I am because of my name, because of my father. I didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“That’s not true,” you argued. “You’re a talented football player. You got to where you are because you earned it.”

Rafe chuckled again. “You never came to any games.”

“I came to a few,” you protested, and oh, how he remembered those nights so clearly. How he’d look up in the stands to find you talking with one of the girls, or silently trying to track where the ball was, or sometimes reading during a timeout. Those were his favorite memories.

“I didn’t think you watched enough of the game in between reading breaks to notice,” he joked, nudging you with his elbow.

“I noticed,” you replied coyly, and Rafe could’ve sworn he saw you bat an eyelash or two

He felt frozen in this moment—stuck between wanting to take to his knees in front of your chair and grab your face and kiss you, and slap himself silly for thinking you’d ever doubted him.

When he didn’t speak again, too busy gawking at you like an angel fallen from heaven, you continued: “So what now?”

“What do you mean, ‘what now’?”

“What are you going to do now? With your life?”

He laughed again at your blatant phrasing. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll keep going to school in the fall and read or watch Gilmore Girls reruns in my free time,” he nudged his elbow at you.

You smirked at his subtle jab at you. “But what about–are you…are you still doing it?”

“No. I’m trying to be better.” And he was, for you, and that cost him dearly.

Your mouth quirked. “That’s good, I guess.” He chuckled. “That’s hard to overcome.”

He reckoned that's as close to a compliment as he’d get from you, but he accepted it nonetheless. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Friday carried on the same as Wednesday: therapy in the morning, Taylor Swift on the car ride, coffee from the cafe, walking along the beach until the early afternoon.

Since you spent more time on the mainland, the line for the ferry back was particularly long. Rafe didn’t mind, though, as driving with you was becoming his favorite part of the day.

He saw you smile out of the corner of his eye as he absentmindedly sung under his breath.

“Put the money in a bag and I stole the keys, that was the last time you ever saw me.”

“What?” He asked innocently, the cheeky glint in his eyes giving him away.

“Nothing,” you answered coyly.

“I thought we said all honesty?”

“I never agreed to that, I just played along.”

“Okay then, tell me what you’re thinking now,” he countered. “I’m thinking that I love your smile.”

Your eyes went wide for a split second. “I was thinking about how I used to think you were Rep-coded.”

“Used to?” He astonished. “What do you think now?”

“I should’ve realized all along that you’re a Lover boy.”

When the two of you returned home, Rafe sat on the balcony with you while you wrote in your journal. He kept reading, only stopping to make dinner. You only ate a bit, but he figured you just weren’t very hungry.

You kept writing furiously into the night, well after the sun had set and you relied on the porch light to see where you were writing.

Rafe gave up reading about an hour ago, watching the sunset across the marina and cars drive by. He had no desire to scroll through social media much these days, not when everything he needed was right in front of him.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? It’s the weekend, so we can stay up late,” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully as if you were kids with no bedtime but was met with your blank stare.

“I think I’m just going to go to bed.” Without room for reply, you turned and slid the sliding door open, disappearing into your room for the rest of the night.

Rafe was up early on Saturday morning, his body’s internal alarm growing used to your therapy schedule. You awoke a little while later, coming out to get some water without so much as a ‘good morning’ and then retreating to your room where you stayed for hours.

As the clock struck noon, he went to check on you. He called your name and knocked softly on your bedroom door, not wanting to interrupt if your body was just catching up on much needed sleep. He peeked his head in when he didn’t get a reply and saw you awake, bundled up in your comforter and sobbing quietly.

Rafe crouched down to where you were laying in your bed. He stared into your sullen eyes, rubbed raw with red veins streaking your scleras.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.

You shook your head.

“Bad day?” He asked simply, almost like he knew, and you nodded like a sleepy toddler when asked if you were ready for bed.

Rafe’s heart broke when you sniffled from taking a sharp inhale.

“What can I do?” He asked helplessly while stroking a piece of hair out from where it had fallen into your mouth.

You shook your head, finally replying through sobs, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, nothing’s wrong with you,” he said softly.

“Yes there is,” you whined, your voice barely audible. “I felt– I thought I was getting better.”

Rafe slumped his shoulders at your defeat. “Y/N, it’s normal.” He stroked your hair again. “There will be good days and bad days, and that’s okay. No one expects you to be instantaneously… healed.”

“I do.”

Rafe was taken aback. “What do you mean?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“I expected more out of myself,” you replied. “I didn’t expect to feel like this, especially for so long.”

“You shouldn’t ’expect’ yourself to feel any kind of way,” Rafe said almost angrily. “Nothing like this should’ve ever happened to you, and don’t for a second think anything different. You feel however you want to feel.” He brushed another hair away, pausing when his fingers reached the shell of your ear. “You have astronomically high expectations for yourself, and I know letting go of control isn’t easy for you.”

You shot him a look, but he continued. “Of course I don’t want you to keep hurting, and I’d do anything to see you smile again, but you shouldn’t blame yourself for how you’re feeling.”

Though his tone was harsh, his anger wasn’t directed towards you. He wished you weren’t so head-strong on keeping your emotions hidden so you could try to get back to normal. “The doctor said it was normal for you to have tough days. That doesn’t mean you’re not getting better.”

You nodded slowly, your tears staining your pillowcase.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” He asked hopefully, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I just feel really…heavy,” you admitted. “Like something is sitting on my chest.”

He nodded in understanding. “I wish I could take the weight from you and carry it myself.”

You shouldn’t have to feel like this, but you do, so telling you so isn’t helpful. Rafe just has to watch you suffer as a bystander, feeling his own weight of helplessness sitting on his chest.

You shook your head. “You’ve already done too much for me, Rafe.”

“Nonsense,” he argued. “I will do anything that I can for you. I always have and I always will.”

You stayed silent, taking slow, deep breaths while your tears slowed to a stop. Rafe sat at your side, stroking your hair, your face—really any skin he could to soothe you. He admitted it felt so natural there, him at your side, like he was always meant to be there.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He offered after a while of your blank stare. “Maybe being outside will make you feel a bit better. We can even get ice cream on the way home.”

You nodded hesitantly, your teeth gnawing into your bottom lip.

He pulled you up from your position on your bed, keeping ahold of your hand while he led you to the foyer and helped you slide your feet into sandals.

“Can we…not drive around Figure Eight,” you asked hesitantly once you sat down in the car.

“Of course,” he assured you. “I was thinking we’d drive near the marshes, on the north side of the island.”

You agreed and set out, keeping the windows up at your request until you were driving down country roads.

You picked Ultraviolence as the album of choice, biting your cheek as your gaze stayed fixed out the window.

Rafe drove you through many backroads, some he was familiar with from his days driving to Barry’s trailer and others new to him. They all looked the same, though: overgrown weeds crawling up the edge of the road, low hanging tree branches blocking most of the afternoon sun—and the fact that there was no trace of civilization anywhere.

Rafe felt the breeze through his fingertips, hanging lazily out the window, and wondered if it gave you the same feeling too. The feeling of the wind washing over your skin or through the wisps of your hair, brushing away the heaviness you feel. He’s felt it all too many times—the expectations of his father, the looks of disappointment when the sheriff called in the middle of the night letting him know his only son was arrested. The disgust on Ward’s face as he threw a stack of bills at Barry’s feet, realizing his own son was now just a pawn in this disgusting filth’s game. Your father’s hardening stare as he overheard a tasteless comment made at his daughter’s expense. The twinkling blue eyes of his mother, one of his last memories of her—it was all too much sometimes, and on those days he would drive to Barry’s trailer with the windows down. Though the cocaine numbed the ache in his chest, the warm sun and cool breeze gave him a sense of impending calm, if only temporary.

Rafe couldn’t know what you’re going through as you had yet to let him into your head in any way. He didn’t know what it was like to be assaulted, violated—humiliated and left for dead. He didn’t have the courage to stand up to a superior or call the last person on earth you’d ever want to see out of desperation. He didn’t know what it was like to be the golden child, always making your father proud or even stone-hearted mother crack a smile when her daughter was named valedictorian.

But he did know the feeling of heaviness, how debilitating it can be. He wished he could feel it for you, to take your heart and only give you the good parts of his.

All honesty.

So he told you—he told you about the trips to Barry’s trailer, the fights with Pogue’s at the Boneyard senior year, the nights spent in a jail cell.

All honesty.

He told you how he could never compete with Sarah, how Ward Cameron’s son was just a useless fuck-up in his eyes. All the times Ward bailed him out, the time he stole money out of his safe (it was too easy—the combination was always Sarah’s birthday, never his).

All honesty.

Rafe didn’t know if you were processing his words or even listening—not until you pulled back into the lot of your apartment complex. You reached your hand over to his and gave it the faintest squeeze.

All he could do was lay his heart out on the table—every ugly piece of him he wanted to keep hidden, every mistake, every regret he’s ever had. Now he can only wait and hope you could do the same.

The following week was spent the same: therapy every other day, iced coffee from the cafe, Gilmore Girls and Steinbeck books and What are you thinking about right now? Sitting on the ferry, takeout for dinner, writing in your journal, so many nights spent on your couch Rafe was forgetting what his own bed felt like—this was his life now.

Though Rafe would never complain (because you were getting better—you didn’t vomit after every meal, the nightmares weren’t every night), he couldn’t help but feel a sense of looming despair. After all, it was nearly Father’s Day, and school would be starting back up in less than two months. Was that enough time for you?

Rafe didn’t know how to expect you to jump right back into your courses after a month of barely leaving the house, but he knew better than to question you on it.

That Sunday had been one month since that text he received on the golf course. One month of the two of you in your own little world—your father was too busy working on a case for Kristen’s grandfather, a notable business owner on the mainland, and Ward didn’t bother to reach out to his son any more than the occasional text about your wellbeing. All texts from his friends were ignored.

That Tuesday you had a follow-up appointment with Dr Hartman to check on your recovery and make sure you didn’t test positive for any late-onset STDs.

The day before was one of the roughest. Although you didn’t outright say so, Rafe could tell through your actions—you barely ate anything for breakfast, your twiddling fingers on the ferry ride over to the mainland, the swollen corner of your bottom lip where you had been chewing endlessly on it.

“Hey,” he spoke for the first time on the ride back to the island. You didn’t feel up to your usual beach-walk, and he didn’t push it. “It’s all going to be okay.” He reached his hand over ever so slowly, placing it on top of your own that were picking the skin around your cuticles.

He almost feared it was the wrong move—too much physical contact and not enough warning—until you moved out from under it, holding his hand in both of yours.

You played with his fingers, your knee bouncing out under you. You traced the veins in his hand like lines on a map before flipping his hand over to trace the creases in his palm.

“I’m scared,” you squeaked.

“I know you are.”

“What if something is wrong with me?”

“Then we’ll figure it out. Together,” he promised.

“My life will be over.”

“It won’t be. I promise you, it will all be okay in the end. It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let it paralyze you.”

You turned to him, tracing your finger around each of his. “Why are you here with me?”

“Because you called,” he reminded you. “And I will always answer.”

You shook your head, pinching the skin above his knuckle. “I didn’t expect you to give up your entire summer for me.”

“I didn’t give anything up,” he argued. “Why do you assume I’m not satisfied with my life right now?”

“A guy like you needs to go out.” You shook your head again. “You need to see other people besides me, to go somewhere besides my shrink’s office.”

“All I’ve ever needed is you. I wish you would see that.”

The afternoon consisted of many panic attacks—Rafe reminding you to breathe in, hold it for five seconds, exhale through your mouth—heaving into the toilet bowl, and gently crying.

“Deep breath for me,” Rafe instructed as he rubbed your back with one hand, holding your hair in the other. You slumped over the toilet with Rafe behind you, having been reminded of the promise you made to let him in after the night he found you out cold on the bathroom floor.

“Just go away,” you grumbled, never thinking you’d miss the luxury of vomiting in peace.

“Can’t,” he clicked his tongue, wringing out the washcloth he ran under the tap before placing it on your burning skin. “Not after I found you passed out. It’s okay if you feel sick, but you have to let me help you.”

You pressed your cheek to the cool porcelain of the seat. “My chest hurts.”

He rubbed your back some more, maneuvering you to sit upward until your chest pressed against your bent knees.

“You’re safe here, I promise. It’s just you and me here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he assured. “Just keep taking nice deep breaths for me, honey.”

You complied, and when the breathing didn’t work and the heaving started again, he was there, grabbing a claw clip from the counter and twisting your hair into it. He was there, pressing the washcloth to your flushed forehead and reminding you he wasn’t leaving.

“Do you want to go sit on the balcony?” He asked quietly, the last hour spent curled over yourself on the bathroom floor.

You didn’t answer, just slumped back into his chest. It was all too easy, the way you two fit together. Even when you felt defeated, Rafe held you up like he was meant to all along.

“We can order some dinner,” he offered, his lips grazing your temple when your head rolled back on his shoulder. The closeness at which he held you would have you believe your skin wasn’t covered in sweat and tears (and probably vomit). “Anything you want.”

“Can’t eat,” you croaked.

“That’s okay. Can we at least go outside, get you some fresh air?”

You nodded weakly and he pulled you up, supporting and nearly dragging you by the arm around your waist.

He set you down in the chair, your eyes heavy with exhaustion as you pulled your feet up and curled into a ball.

Rafe scooted his own chair closer, pushing the table out of the way.

“What can I do?” He offered.

You shook your head slowly, as if a realization just came over you. “Nothing.”

You stayed in that chair, staring blankly for hours.

In the dead of night, long after the TV was turned off and bedroom doors closed, Rafe heard a blood-curdling scream.

He sprang up, bare feet scampering across the hardwood floors to you.

You screamed like in a horror movie, awaking him from the deepest part of his sleep. His heart pounded, like his mind hadn’t quite caught up yet to the chill in his bones.

He flung your bedroom door open to see you trashing, never seeing someone move so quickly. Your hands beat against the headboard and the sheets, knuckles banging into the hard surfaces so hard he thought they would break.

“No, no—stop,” you screamed, hair knotted and unruly from your tossing.

“Y/N, wake up, Y/N,” he commanded, rushing to your side and gripping your wrists tightly. Even with his arms in the best shape of his life, it was nearly impossible. He could only imagine how hard you fought.

“Y/N, wake up,” he repeated. “It’s a dream, it’s not real. Wake up.”

You tried to beat away the figures in your dream, circumvented only by Rafe’s strong hands.

Rafe got louder, insisting you wake, louder and louder until his shouts were louder and deeper than your own.

“Y/N, wake up!”

Your eyes flew open and tried to pry his hands off you, but he held strong, not letting go until he was sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“Y/N, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

You looked around the room, lost. A wild animal, trapped in its enclosure.

“It was just a dream,” he told you. “You’re safe here. We’re in your apartment—it’s just you and me here, and I won’t let anything happen.”

You rubbed at your chest, groaning.

Rafe got closer to feel it too, to check your heart rate, when he faltered. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, pulling his hand into your chest. Your heart was soaring, and Rafe could practically hear it pounding.

“Just try to relax for me, okay? Deep breath.”

He breathed with you, letting you hold his hand in both of yours against your chest, playing with his fingers like you had earlier.

Your lip trembled as your breathing slowed, inching closer to him with every breath. Inhale, scoot, exhale. Inhale, scoot, exhale.

When your legs brushed his, close enough to where it was practically thrown over his lap, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap.

“Is this okay?” He confirmed, his words muffled by your hair.

You nodded, nuzzling your face further into his neck.

He could feel your heartbeat against his, yours slowing down or his speeding up until it became just one.

He held you there, his warm arms holding you tight and murmuring to you reassurances: how you were safe, alone, and the promise that Rafe would never let anyone hurt you again. He held you there until the tips of the sun’s rays peeked over the horizon, lighting up your room so Rafe didn’t just have to know you were asleep by the soft snores leaving your mouth, he could see your closed eyelids and peaceful look on your face. While you slept you always reminded him of how you looked as a kid—sweet, innocent, soft. You looked like an angel, complete with the halo of the morning glow around your face. If someone didn’t know better, they’d probably think you a meek, timid little girl with a mellow voice and shadowy presence.

But when you opened your eyes anyone could see it: the resilience, the strength. Rafe knew it was there, just like it had been since you were toddlers with the mischievous glint in your eye.

Rafe sat next to you and watched as you slept, staying until he could be sure you would wake once again.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you sat in the plastic chair to Rafe’s left. You were sitting outside the room you were to meet the doctor in, who stated she was running about ten minutes behind with another patient. Rafe felt he could slap her for making you wait a second longer.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told you, his mantra for the last few days. Like he has any clue to how your appointment today would end.

Whoever did this to you—Rafe still had no idea who the multiple who’s could be— already stripped you of your dignity, your freedom. He can’t even imagine if they gave you a disease in return.

He watched as you chewed on your bottom lip and picked at the skin around your nails.

He offered you his hand silently, elbow sitting comfortably in the crease between the two armrests.

You took it in your own, fingers circling the plane of the gold signet ring on his forefinger.

“I know it’s unlikely, and worrying won’t do anything to prevent it,” you spoke candidly. “But I’m still nervous.”

“That’s natural,” he replied, reveling in the way you twisted his ring around and around. “No matter what happens, you can face it.”

You nodded, pulling the ring up to the first knuckle and dropping it again. You were about to speak when Dr Hartman walked up, apologizing under Rafe’s hard glare for her delay. She gestured for you to follow her in the exam room, standing and dropping Rafe’s precious hand from your grasp.

“I’ll wait here,” he said, but it was more a question.

You nodded, taking a sharp breath and following her inside.

Rafe was relieved to hear you were recovering physically as well as could be, treating you to ice cream and a drive around the island on the way home.

When you got your test results back days later and you were clean, Rafe hugged you, and you hugged him right back, squeezing him so tight as he poured his life into you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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