♡ nora ♡

!!! images is not depicting reader’s appearance (no faceclaim whatsoever) !!!

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

general cw: swearing, suggestive language, lots of overthinking/embarrassment from reader's side, hints at anxiety

a/n: this doesn’t necessarily fall under the slow-burn genre bc reader’s already crushing on him but i still wanna try doing things organically. this fic will include fluff but also some anxious/jealousy/etc. scenes + at some point there’ll def be some mildly suggestive scenes and hints at intimacy but probably nothing too explicit (i’ll def put a cw or try to make it skippable if it does happen);;

+ i’ll try to post regularly (currently always uploading on sundays)

+ i can't tell how many parts this series will include as i have no specific ending point in sight but in my estimation, there'll be a minimum of 20 parts

+ it's mostly written story with some smau elements (text messages)

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

part seven

part eight

part nine (presumably 6th April)

...

omg thank you guys so much for 300 followers 😭😭🎀 i’m so thankful for every kind of support, doesn’t matter if you’re a returning commenter or a silent reader that happens to enjoy my writing <33

seeing any kind of note pop up, makes me smile so hard and i wanna show my gratitude by giving something back in return hihihhi

so for the next rafe x reader one-shot, i’m gonna let you guys decide (only choosing rafe x reader bc i guess that’s what most of you stayed for and also i can’t get myself to write for anyone else atm, sorry :/)

fyi, sooner or later i'll probably write all of these but right now i'll allow you to choose the next one <33

okok these are the prompts i’d love to write about (pls vote on the poll below these):

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(tagging my killing me softly people bc i thought this might interest you. if it doesn't pls just ignore ^^)

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @wintercrows @miaaaoa @setmefreemyg @pogueprincesa @chimchimjiminie16 @drewstarkeysrightarm @wtfdudesblog @wolfstarsimpxx @emmiesummers

to all my killing me softly readers: i just finished the first draft and holy shit, you're either gonna LOVE or HATE part nine omg

(or rather rafe to be more precise whoops)

kms masterlist | <- part seven | part nine (soon) ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, suggestive language, overthinking, mild sexual references and implications

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

word count: 4.2k+

a/n: sorry for the delay on this part. like i already mentioned in a previous post, i was very busy the last two weeks and i didn't find the time to write. i'm still very occupied bc i'm probably moving soon and all that stuff and i don't want my writing to suffer just bc i rushed things. anyway i tried my best on this part, thank you for your support and patience and i hope you guys enjoy <33

"He said WHAT?!" Cara’s voice rang out through your phone, her eyes wide in shock.

You were lying on your bed, FaceTime open, having called her right after school to catch her up on everything. Because holy shit—A LOT had happened since your last update. And that was literally just yesterday afternoon, right after your visit to Kelce’s.

So you’d spent the past hour walking her through everything—how you’d completely embarrassed yourself trying to set up a third study session with Rafe after turning down his invite, only for him to leave you on read. How he finally texted you later that night, which somehow spiraled into this weirdly tense back-and-forth. How you then tried to avoid him at school today… and failed spectacularly when you ran into him in the courtyard, where he straight-up confronted you about the whole thing.

And even just telling Cara about it had your face heating up all over again. The memory of that conversation alone made your stomach twist because, honestly? You hadn’t felt that uncomfortable in a long time.

You had actually fucking admitted—to his face—that you were an overthinking crazy bitch who only turned down his invite because you got so deep in your own head, you convinced yourself he just wanted to sleep with you.

Yeah. That happened.

And the way he had reacted? You never could’ve predicted it in a million years.

You’d thought he’d laugh at you, stay pissed, and throw it back in your face—but somehow, he hadn’t. Instead, he had this annoyingly effortless way of brushing past your humiliating confession, making you feel like maybe—just maybe—he actually got you.

You just gave Cara a sheepish smile. “He said I really need to get laid.”

"Oh my god, girl," Cara shook her head, grinning so hard her face could split. "AHHH, I don’t even know what to say."

"Imagine how I felt," you laughed. "I just gave the most uncomfortable speech of my life, and that’s his response." You shook your head, still baffled. "Like… I was so overwhelmed, but somehow, the whole argument just disappeared after that. And what’s even crazier? He still wants me to come over later."

Cara gasped. “TO FUCK?!”

"What? No," you snorted. "Because I admitted that my excuse was bullshit, meaning I am still free today. And then he made sure to inform me that this wouldn’t be a sex date." You pursed your lips. "Unless I wanted it to be."

“WHAT?!” Cara’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and your phone speaker practically blew out.

You burst into laughter, your cheeks burning. "Yeah, but that was obviously a joke—even I got that."

Cara shook her head. "Oh, honey. Even if it was a joke, he wouldn't just say shit like that for no reason."

"Maybe," you frowned, refusing to let yourself spiral—again. "But I think... I don’t know, Rafe just seems like the type who—" You hesitated, tilting your head. "I feel like he was overwhelmed by the situation as well. Or, I mean, by my confession. Okay, not overwhelmed, but like... either he didn’t want to make me uncomfortable or he didn’t want to feel awkward himself. You get me?"

"I do," Cara said with a knowing smirk. "But, it’s obvious he likes you, girl. I’m telling you—tonight is your chance. Give him a little something to work with."

You shook your head immediately. "Absolutely not."

"I’m not saying go for a kiss," Cara rolled her eyes. "Just, you know—give him those heart eyes, don’t shy away from being close to him. Subtle flirting is key, Y/N."

"I’m just grateful he still wants to work on this project with me after this humiliating conversation," you sighed, rolling onto your back, holding your phone above you. "If I suddenly start acting different... I mean, aside from the fact that I suck at flirting—"

"Because you never try."

"EXACTLY," you shot back. "And if I suddenly switch things up, he’s definitely gonna think I’m actually insane."

Cara sighed dramatically. "You're not supposed to act fake or pull some alter ego move. Just, you know, let him know that you think he’s kinda cool, too."

“I think he knows damn well he’s fine as shit.” You smirked. Rafe had that aura, that confidence—big dick energy.

“Of course, he does,” Cara exclaimed. “But when he hears it from a girl who’s caught his interest? That changes the game in your favor.”

“Yeah, sure…”

And so your phone call went on for the next two hours. Cara kept feeding your delusions while you tried to rationalize every little thing. At some point, she started telling you about her failed attempt to casually bump into JJ Maybank while taking a walk in the Cut. She’d ended up empty-handed—except for the little bag of weed she got from Barry.

“I even wore boots,” Cara sighed. “And all I saw were weird-ass people everywhere. Like, is it really that hard to dress decently once in a while? Or, I don’t know, shower?”

By 3 p.m., she was helping you pick out an outfit. Your meeting with Rafe wasn’t anything serious—like, not really—but still, no way were you about to show up at his place looking like a damn mess.

After trying on what felt like a thousand outfit combos, you finally settled on something casual. Even though the time and setting were… pretty intimate for two people meeting alone in the evening, this wasn’t a date—it was a project work session.

And even though Cara insisted you should wear a nice low-cut top or maybe a skirt that was way too short… yeah, no.

Crying to Rafe about being scared he just wanted to get you into bed just hours ago, only to show up at his place half-naked? Absolutely not. He probably already thought you were crazy anyway.

“Okay, C, gotta go,” you finally said, sinking into your desk chair—your bed was buried under a mountain of clothes. “Dinner’s almost ready, and I still need to shower and, you know, try not to completely lose my mind.”

Cara smirked. “You got this, Y/N. Just stay cool and stop overthinking. Yeah, yeah, I know—that’s basically impossible for you, but at least try.” Her grin widened. “And have fun on your little date. Think of me when he gives you a goodnight kiss.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll text you if I can.”

After hanging up, you turned to the mountain of clothes on your bed. You were so lost in thought about the meeting in less than two hours that you almost didn’t notice your phone vibrating on your desk.

And as much as your heart always skipped a beat when Rafe texted you, this time you felt an odd lightness in your mind and in the way you typed your response to him.

With a big grin, you set your phone back down on your desk. You had no fucking clue why, but ever since that weird confrontation/conversation/confession at school today, it felt like the invisible wall that had been between you since your visit to Kelce had finally come down making room for a more comfortable dynamic.

Maybe it was the way Rafe had handled the situation earlier—with that effortless ease and an almost unspoken understanding. Or maybe it was the fact that today, you had hit a level of nervousness, peak embarrassment, and sheer humiliation so high that nothing really mattered anymore meaning you could actually show who was lurking beneath that shy exterior.

It was probably a mix of both—along with the undeniable truth that, no matter how much you thought you were embarrassing yourself, Rafe never truly called you out on it. Instead, he smoothed things over so seamlessly, like it was second nature to him.

Of course, there was always the possibility that he was just using you—to secure a good grade in art, to make sure he didn’t completely tank his senior year. Maybe that was why he hadn’t ditched you yet, why he was being so friendly, maybe even a little flirty. Maybe this was all just a game to him, a way to mess with you and—

AHHHH. NO. STOP.

You shook your head. I’m spiraling again.

And even if that were the case, the simple fact that you had Rafe’s attention at all was… kind of a nice feeling. You knew that was completely ridiculous, even pathetic. But after years of crushing on him, finally getting to spend time with him—even if it was just for this stupid school project—yeah, at this point, you’d take what you could get.

Either way, you didn’t have the time or energy to overanalyze it any further.

At dinner, you let your parents know you’d be taking the SUV later. That, of course, led to a flood of questions about where you were going, and since you were a terrible liar, you told them the truth.

"Oh, say hi to Ward for me," your mom said. "I hope he’s enjoying his Grady-White."

Right. That. Ward Cameron had recently bought a boat from your mom’s company.

You just nodded and conveniently left out the fact that Ward and Rose were off at some charity event tonight, meaning you and Rafe basically had Tannyhill to yourselves. The last thing you needed was a conversation about safe sex.

After a quick shower, you slipped into the outfit you had put together with Cara earlier. And just like that, it was already 5:45 PM.

Tannyhill wasn’t too far from here—especially not by car—but while you didn’t want to be late, you also didn’t want to be that overly punctual nerd. But seriously, what was the right time to show up?

Ugh, why do I have to overcomplicate everything?

You packed your bag, hesitated for a split second—literally a nanosecond—debating whether you should bring a condom just in case of the highly improbable, borderline impossible, one-in-a-billion chance that you might need it (not that you had ever actually bought any yourself, but Cara had gifted you some for your 18th birthday, and they had been buried deep in a secret compartment of your closet ever since).

But yeah, no. You VERY quickly dismissed that thought.

Not only was it insanely delusional and embarrassing, but knowing your luck, you’d probably trip in front of Rafe, and it would fall out of your bag right at his feet.

FUCKKKKKK NO. The mere thought of that—DUDE, NO. JUST THE FACT THAT YOU WERE EVEN CONSIDERING THE POSSIBILITY OF HAVING SEX WITH RAFE TONIGHT. LIKE, WHAT?????? BE FOR FUCKING REAL GIRL.

Shaking off that painfully embarrassing moment of self-awareness, you said goodbye to your parents and got into the SUV.

A short while later, you pulled up to Tannyhill. You drove up the long driveway and parked in a spot near the garages beside the house.

And then… you just sat there, staring at the steering wheel.

I’m in my car. On the Camerons’ property. About to meet Rafe Cameron. For a school project. In the late afternoon. Alone.

Your brain seemed to short-circuit for a second and then—

WHAT THE ACTUAL HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

The nervousness you had been trying to suppress came crashing down all at once. Your hands started to tremble again, and that weird, fluttery feeling returned to your stomach.

This was absolutely insane. First, you had worked with him in the dining hall of Kildare Academy, then at Kelce’s place, and now—AT HIS HOUSE? IN THE SPAN OF THREE DAYS. The rate of escalation here deserved to be analyzed by a math professor.

Okay, I got this, you told yourself. Even if I make a fool of myself, Rafe won’t make a big deal out of it. He didn’t invite me over just to get in my pants, and he’s not using me just to score a good grade. This is a completely normal meeting at a completely normal time to work on a completely normal school project.

…

Normal. Yeah, that wasn’t exactly a word you were familiar with, but whatever. For once in your life, your brain needed to just go with the flow instead of overanalyzing every little thing.

You got out of the car, gripping your bag tightly, and walked up to the large front door. No more overthinking—you simply rang the doorbell.

Still, you were painfully aware of your racing heartbeat.

You were already bracing yourself for some kind of embarrassing moment the second he opened the door. But instead of a 6'2 cute frat boy, you were greeted by the pretty face of a blonde girl. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and was wearing white sneakers as if she were about to head out.

Of course, you recognized Sarah Cameron—she was a grade below you. But you had never actually spoken to her, so seeing her instead of Rafe threw you off for a second. (Which was kind of stupid, considering, you know, she lived here.)

Then you remembered—Rafe had gone to the gym earlier, so maybe he wasn’t even home yet.

Sarah had that effortlessly pretty smile. "Hi," she said, and before you could respond, she added, "My brother’s still in the shower."

She had that look on her face—you couldn’t quite describe it but it basically said, I don’t know who you are, and you’re probably just some random girl my brother is messing around with but hi, very nice to meet you.

Oh god. This was so awkward.

Still, you smiled and tried not to turn red at the thought of Rafe in the shower. "Oh, um, no problem, I’ll just wait."

The silence that followed was already creeping in, so you quickly tried to fill it. "Sarah, right?"

Sarah nodded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. Her gaze flickered briefly to your bag. "Are you staying over tonight?"

BROOOOOOOO. Was making situations unbearably awkward just a Cameron thing?

Your cheeks warmed as you quickly shook your head, a nervous laugh slipping from your lips. "Oh, no, this is just... I’m here for a school project."

Why did that clarification—the fact that you even had to clarify it—make the whole interaction even more awkward?

But Sarah just chuckled softly. "Just asking because he was really insistent about getting me to leave tonight."

... Okay. WHAT. LEGIT, WHAT???

You forced a small, awkward smile. "Oh, um..." WHAT WERE YOU EVEN SUPPOSED TO SAY TO THAT? SORRY???

"Don’t worry," Sarah said with a genuine smile, saving you from your own misery. "I was meeting up with friends anyway." Then her expression turned slightly playful. "I was just curious to see who'd be showing up tonight. Normally, he gives in quicker when I ask for a name."

Whatever that was supposed to mean—holy shit.

Somewhere inside the house, a door shut. Sarah smirked. "I should go. Don’t wanna kill the vibe when he sees I’m still here. Go on, you can wait inside." She slipped past you, offering a friendly smile. "Have fun and don't hesitate to put him in his place." She chuckled. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."

Overwhelmed, mildly embarrassed, and somehow also amused, you gave her a small wave. "You too, and same."

As she finally turned to leave, you hesitated for a second, debating whether you should just stay put—but that would be kinda weird. So, instead, you stepped inside the foyer and closed the door behind you.

Okay... now what?

Somehow, waiting inside for Rafe to eventually come downstairs felt even weirder than if you'd just waited outside. But no, no second-guessing. No overanalyzing. Tonight, you were turning your brain off.

Hahahahahaha as if that was even possible.

You sank down onto a leather bench near the door, somewhat grateful to have a moment to process everything.

Then again, that was not a good thing, because now Sarah’s words were replaying in your head. And on top of that, there was the creeping realization that RAFE MIGHT BE STANDING NAKED UNDER THE SHOWER RIGHT NOW OR IN HIS ROOM GETTING DRESSED OKOKOKOKOK.

Please. Chill.

You wiped your sweaty palms against your clothes, feeling like a lab rat in some kind of twisted experiment. Your brain had no reference point for this situation, no past experiences to pull from for guidance.

Because this? Being alone in a boy’s house—a boy who also happened to be your crush—yeah, no, this was uncharted territory.

Alright, you needed a distraction until he came downstairs. So, you pulled out your phone.

As soon as you heard Rafe’s footsteps in the hallway, you quickly shoved your phone away, fighting the urge to bolt out of the house. Not that it mattered—you were frozen in place anyway.

You straightened up, gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you spotted his Off-White slides at the top of the stairs. Then his shorts, the hem of his shirt, and finally—

His broad shoulders were draped with a white towel. And holy shit—his sharp jawline, his stupidly perfect face, and damp hair falling messily over his forehead.

The whole image did something to you. Something you shoved deep, deep down the second his eyes landed on you in the foyer.

For a split second, you thought you caught a flicker of confusion—or surprise?—in his expression, but it was quickly masked by either realization or… annoyance?

You stood there awkwardly, not sure how to look at him or what the hell to say. MAYBE A SMILE?

“Sarah let you in?” It was more of a statement than a question.

And now that he was on the same level as you, you could smell his aftershave—fresh, clean, stupidly good—and holy shit, was that the post-pump from his workout still lingering in his biceps?

Unsure if his irritated tone was directed at you or his sister, you just nodded. “She said I could wait here. Hope that’s not a problem or anything…”

Rafe barely lifted a brow, exhaling a small amused scoff as he eyed the bench for a second. “Nah but you could’ve also sat down in the living room.”

???

“It's fine,” you said, forcing an awkward smile. “And the bench is actually comfier than it looks.”

Cringe.

This whole situation felt wrong, and his weirdly tense vibe wasn’t helping.

And something about the way he was looking at you made you think he knew exactly how uncomfortable you felt. His gaze bore into you before he spoke again, irritation lacing his voice. “What? Did she make a stupid comment?”

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, already feeling the heat creeping up your face. “She just said hi and left right after.”

Rafe eyed you like he didn’t quite believe you. Then his mouth twisted into an irritated smile, and he shook his head, muttering more to himself than to you. “She’s always sticking her nose in shit that’s none of her business.”

Okaaay, so he and Sarah weren’t exactly on the best terms.

You figured his mood probably had more to do with her than with you. (Thumbs up for that realization and for not spiraling over it. Yay.)

"I didn’t mind talking to her," you said with what you hoped was an understanding smile. "She seems nice."

That seemed to amuse Rafe. His brows lifted, a smirk playing on his lips. "You thought Kelce was 'nice' too. Remind me to never trust your judgment of people."

Your mouth fell open in mock offense, before you let out an amused chuckle. "And who, in your expert opinion, is actually worthy of being called 'nice'? You?"

GIRL. WHAT.

But Rafe just scoffed, shaking his head in amusement. "Shit, no. But you can’t go around calling every person you meet 'nice.'"

"If that’s the impression I get, then yeah, I can," you shot back with a shrug, oddly comfortable in this little banter.

"Okay." Rafe tilted his chin up slightly, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Then what’s your impression of me? And don’t tell me 'nice'."

Oh, fuck. You really should’ve seen that coming.

And the heat rising in your face? Yeah, there was no stopping that.

So what the hell were you supposed to say? My impression of you? Hmm, let’s ask my eleven-year-old self when she saw you on the first day of school—loud, annoying, and immediately decided she was gonna marry you one day.

MHM. SHOVING THAT THOUGHT AWAY.

"Um…" You started, wanting to shrink into yourself like a snail retreating into its shell. "You’re…" Cute? Handsome? Hot?? Complicated? Moody? "Blunt," you finally settled on.

Rafe let out something close to a chuckle.

And then, like the words were right there on the tip of your tongue, like you physically couldn’t stop yourself, like it was something you wanted him to hear, you added, "And more considerate than you probably think."

For the first time ever in the history of your interactions (which, to be fair, could be counted on one hand), it was Rafe who looked genuinely caught off guard.

Not subtly, either—no, he was visibly thrown off.

You saw it in the way his lips twitched, like he was about to smirk, about to brush it off or deflect somehow.

But for some reason, his delayed reaction gave you the push to keep going.

"I mean, one doesn’t cancel out the other," you said with a sheepish smile, already regretting your choice. "And obviously… I mean it’s kind of obvious that I… well, I’m not the most extroverted person."

You let out a nervous laugh, unsure why you even started this, but it was too late to back out now.

"I overthink things a lot which makes me kind of awkward in situations I’m not used to. I mean, I’m not socially incompetent or anything, but… what I’m trying to say is, I—well, you—you have this way of making it feel like I’m not embarrassing myself as much." Another nervous laugh. Please stop talking.

"Maybe you do it subconsciously, or maybe it’s intentional, but…" You got this girl, keep going. "I just wanted to say I ... appreciate it. That you don’t make a big deal out of things, I mean. Like this morning."

You tilted your head slightly, and—GIRL—was that a hint of playfulness in your tone? "Which, by the way, could technically be considered nice."

Wow, two big-ass speeches in one day— and then THESE?!

And as much as you felt the cringe creeping up your neck, it did feel good having said this. Because fuck yeah, you were in fact grateful for how he handled your awkward behavior without making it seem like his interactions with you were forced. Plus his blunt and deflecting responses somehow helped to pull you out of your head.

And the fact that you even felt comfortable enough to say something like that to him, despite how incredibly cheesy and cringe it was, and even though he was probably thinking, What the actual fuck? Why didn’t I just drop this class? And what is wrong with this girl?!

That was like a badge of honor coming from an introvert.

And Rafe? He had already looked speechless after your first little monologue this morning, but now? Poor guy seemed completely lost like he had no idea whether you were messing with him or being dead serious. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out how the fuck you had gone from shy silence to this.

THIS IS HOW I FEEL EVERY DAMN TIME, you wanted to say, but you were so caught up in your own embarrassment that you just stared at him in silence.

But then, he seemed to snap out of it. A wide grin spread across his face, and you already knew you weren’t going to like what he was about to say. "Are you trying to hit on me?"

ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

The color drained from your face as you quickly shook your head. "What? No, that's—I'm being serious."

Rafe pulled the towel from around his shoulders and tilted his head, amusement clear in his expression. "One doesn’t rule out the other, does it?"

OH. MY. GOD.

"I..." But the words were stuck in your throat, embarrassment probably written all over your face.

And then he even had the nerve to raise his brows as if he was genuinely awaiting a response. However, that look was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk when it was clear that you were incapable of doing so.

"Aight, I'd say I'll grab some food and then we continue our shitty project", he said, eyeing you with amusement. "Unless you feel like continuing your little appreciation speech about me.”

I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE.

Your cheeks burned, blood rushing in your ears, and—shit, really—you should probably be annoyed or pissed that, for the second time today, he had dodged your emotional confession and twisted it in a way that played into his hands.

But then again, that was exactly the conclusion you had just come to: He didn’t make a big deal out of things like this.

And that was precisely what you'd learned to like about him.

Besides, your mind was still too focused on his initial reaction. Yeah, at first, he had looked surprised and overwhelmed but for that one moment—just one—you had managed to flip the dynamic.

And hey, some might have even called Rafe Cameron’s stunned expression at that moment—the boyish shock, the unexpected softness in his features—flustered.

And THAT? That was an entirely different kind of ego boost.

Still, all you could do was frown with burning cheeks, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Rafe nodded. “Thought so.” Then, still wearing that smug smile, he jerked his head toward the door on the left side of the entrance. “Come on, we still gotta get shit done today.”

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kms masterlist | <- part seven | part nine (soon) ->

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Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @wintercrows @miaaaoa @setmefreemyg @pogueprincesa @chimchimjiminie16 @drewstarkeysrightarm

pairing: bf!rafe cameron x fem!shy!reader

cw: suggestive language & sexual content, mention of alcohol consumption (reader being tipsy), masturbation, cowgirl-position, praise kink elements, embarrassment & shyness (reader), light teasing & encouragement (rafe), visual stimulation, unprotected sex

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i wanted to try sth different for once (this is my first time writing smut like this lmao) and i’m incapable at writing short stuff so this is a lot longer than intended. honestly idk what else to say (help), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think <3

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“Are you sure about this?” Rafe let out an amused chuckle after you had explained it to him.

You had just gotten home from a party at Kelce’s, and the entire night, you’d been clinging to his side. Well, clinging wasn’t the right word—you’d been needy.

When you were drunk, you were a lost cause. Everything around you faded into the background—everything except Rafe. And the thought of what was underneath that perfectly fitted polo and shorts.

You could practically feel the pulse in your clit, the way your nerves tingled. Sitting next to him on the couch, having to hold yourself back from thinking about how he’d take you from behind or shove his thick cock down your throat…

Fuck, that was impossible. And Rafe knew it.

He knew exactly what was going through your head as you sat there, looking all seemingly innocent and half-asleep while he chatted with Topper.

And God, he loved to see you squirm.

You were naturally shy, and when you got this obviously needy, fuck, it took everything in him not to take you right here on the couch in front of everyone.

But that was what made it fun. Teasing you. Keeping his own self-control in check. It only took his hand resting on your thigh—too close to where you really wanted it—to have your panties soaked.

And that frustrating, unbearable need to wait had your clit throbbing, aching. You’d seriously considered locking yourself in Kelce’s bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub, and getting yourself off—because the pressure was downright excruciating.

Because ever since you’d felt Rafe’s cock inside you for the first time—fuck, you’d winced at his size—but what had come after that?

Short answer: you were addicted.

And it was so incredibly embarrassing—because before Rafe, you’d been a clueless virgin. Opening yourself up to someone like him had taken everything in you. But Rafe was a good boyfriend, he had been very patient, waiting until you were ready, and ever since then, you couldn’t think about anything else but his cock pushing inside you.

Saying that out loud, though? That was still hard sometimes. No matter how much you craved him, you were still a shy girl at heart.

You barely spoke to others unless spoken to, and just like that, you only ever initiated sex when Rafe made the first move. And because he worried that his need for you might be too overwhelming—that he might intimidate you—he tried not to push too hard.

But the pressure, the want, was still there. And instead of asking Rafe to help ease the ache, you often took care of it yourself.

And every time your fingers explored your soaked folds, all you could think about was bouncing on Rafe’s big, throbbing cock.

Fuck.

And then, sitting on Kelce’s couch, a thought hit you. An idea. Something you wanted to try.

Sober, you’d never say it out loud. But like this? Tipsy? The alcohol loosened your restraint just enough.

Still, you decided to wait until you were back at Tannyhill—because whispering it into his ear right here, while he was mid-conversation with Topper? Yeah, his reaction alone would make it obvious you were up to something. And you’d die if anyone else caught on.

So you held onto the thought until, finally, you stumbled into Rafe’s room, collapsing onto his bed with your sweet little ass pressed into the mattress.

And when you looked up at him—big, wide eyes, warm, flushed cheeks?

Fuck. That alone made him crazy.

And as much as he wanted to push his cock down your throat in that exact position, watching your eyes tear up from his size, he reminded himself—you’d been a sweet, innocent virgin just a month ago.

And he certainly didn’t want to overwhelm his shy little angel.

But then you told him your idea. Nervous. Hesitant. And fuck, that made his cock twitch in his shorts.

Still, he let out a low chuckle as if he couldn't quite believe you.

“I’m serious,” you said, suddenly uncertain, cheeks burning from the alcohol and embarrassment. “I wanna try it.”

Shit. Your tipsy state, the way you were practically begging without even realizing it… You were playing a dangerous game.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his lips. If this time, you were the one calling the shots? Fuck it. Why not?

“Alright,” he said, watching the way your eyes lit up. And that look alone? That only fueled his own need. “If it makes my baby happy.”

A few kisses and teasing touches later, you found yourself hovering over Rafe, your soaked pussy just inches above his hard cock—your body completely bare.

And even though Rafe had seen you naked dozens of times by now, you still felt so incredibly shy, so unsure.

His hands trailed slowly up your thighs, sending a shiver down your spine. “Shit, I haven’t even done anything, and you’re already this wet,” he muttered, his fingers gliding through your dripping folds. “You sure you don’t want me to take over, baby?”

A soft, unbidden sigh escaped your lips, and your cheeks burned an even deeper shade of red. You shook your head, still uncertain, your eyes wide.

Another moan slipped past your lips as his fingers ventured further, searching for your entrance.

Fuck, you wanted to give in to him—but not tonight.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, not too tight but firm enough. Your gaze met his, and holy shit—the way you looked at him, bratty yet so innocent at the same time…

Fuck.

He wanted to flip you over, bend you in half, thrust into you from behind, tell you just how fucking perfect you were. For a second, he seriously considered it. But he was too intrigued by your sudden need to take control.

Rafe let his fingers glide over your slick folds one last time, savoring the soft little sigh that left your lips, before pulling his hand away. Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Go on then.”

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Your courage almost wavered—but the hunger in his gaze gave you the push you needed.

Your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, and you felt his body tense, every little movement you made watched like a predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the wrong move before it pounced.

You bit your lip, guiding him to your entrance, and with a breathy sound, you sank down onto him.

Rafe let out a deep grunt as his cock slid inside you. You were already so fucking wet that his entire length went in with ease.

“Taking it all in like a good girl.”

His hands found your hips, adjusting your position just slightly. You whimpered softly when the shift sent a gentle jolt through you, his cock pressing against that perfect spot.

His eyes flickered down to your pretty tits, bouncing slightly from the movement. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he murmured, his fingers trailing up your sides, reaching the soft curves of your breasts.

He stroked the sensitive skin, sending a shiver across your body.

You smiled shyly, but now that it was actually happening—

Shit. It was so embarrassing that you’d even voiced the desire in the first place.

Rafe’s hands found your thighs again, his grip firmer this time, his voice low. “Come on, baby, there’s no need to be shy with me. I can take over if you want.”

You shook your head, painfully aware of his thick cock inside you, just waiting for you to move.

“No,” you murmured, your voice coming out smaller than you’d intended. “I… let me do it.”

Rafe leaned back into the pillow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, baby.”

You nodded, biting your lip, probably looking as embarrassed as you felt. But the alcohol had dulled your senses, and you’d been waiting for this moment for hours—sitting next to Rafe on Kelce’s boring-ass party couch, needy, panties soaked.

And then, almost on instinct, your fingers found your outer folds.

You closed your eyes, hoping to push the embarrassment away.

Rafe’s cock twitched inside you as his eyes followed the movement of your index and middle fingers finding your clit.

Fuck. Now that you felt it yourself—you were so fucking wet. And somehow, that turned you on even more.

Slowly, you started moving, gentle circles, applying just the right amount of pressure—still so tense that your thighs clung to his hips. Your clit pulsed beneath your fingers, and your breathing grew shallower.

Mentally, you were still caught up in the fact that you were exposing yourself to Rafe in a way you never had before.

But the feeling of his thick cock stretching you, his uneven breathing, and the pleasure steadily building inside you, fueled something in you that made you forget your embarrassment.

“No, baby.” Rafe’s soft voice pulled you from your attempt to let go. “Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers pausing their movement.

Your brows furrowed slightly, uncertainty flickering in your expression. A small, breathless, “What?” was all you managed to say.

Rafe’s hands traced slow, soothing circles over your hips, but his gaze was firm. “I want you to look at me while you do it.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and instinctively, your walls clenched around him. You barely shook your head, clearly flustered. “I…”

"You’re perfect, baby. No need to hide from me." Rafe’s blue eyes bore into you, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Okay?"

The thought of keeping eye contact with him while you touched yourself—fuck, it sobered you up and made your heart race at the same time.

It gave you a thrill, something about it feeling forbidden, so revealing.

However, like a good girl, you only nodded, cheeks flushed, too afraid that speaking would make you even more self-aware.

"Good girl," he murmured, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

So, you kept your eyes open, holding his gaze with the kind of shame and hesitation that made you feel like a deer caught in the eyes of a wolf.

Then, your fingers slid between your folds again, finding your swollen clit. All the waiting, all the teasing—it was catching up to you.

Rafe’s gaze never wavered. "Go on, baby. You’re so fucking beautiful."

You bit your lip, embarrassed, and started moving again—slowly, carefully, too shy to let yourself fully go.

Of course, you’d already ridden his cock, let him fuck you from behind, moaned sounds you never even thought you were capable of, but this…

This was different.

It was so incredibly exposing—not just physically but as if you were baring your entire self to him.

You pushed those thoughts away and kept going, fingers pressing down a little harder.

The sensation of his thick cock inside you, the way his hungry gaze followed your every movement—it turned you on more than it should.

"Yeah, baby, keep going. No need to hold back."

And then, hearing those little praises, seeing the way he was barely holding himself back—

Fuck.

It awakened something desperate in you.

Your fingers kept circling that sensitive spot, and then, almost instinctively, your hips started to move—slowly, deliberately, rocking back and forth.

And feeling Rafe inside you sent a soft moan tumbling from your lips—only making your embarrassment worse.

His fingers dug into your hips, and he let out a primal sound. "Fuck, baby, this is so hot."

Another sigh escaped you, and your need grew—like your pussy suddenly remembered just how desperate you had been earlier, sitting next to Rafe on that couch.

Your fingers moved faster, more urgently, and seeing you in this flustered state—your wide eyes looking down at him, brows knitted together, lips swollen and parted—fuck, you looked so innocent, so shy.

Rafe wanted nothing more than to thrust up into you, to watch you bounce on his cock, to hear you whimper as his tip pressed against your inner walls—but this…

This was almost better.

Watching you pleasure yourself on his hard cock, watching you slowly push yourself toward the edge, letting go right in front of him—holy shit.

And the way you moved on him, slow and teasing, you felt so fucking good.

He made sure you knew just how beautiful you looked—how perfect, how fucking pretty you were. He praised you between his own deep groans. "Fuck, baby, don’t stop. You feel so fucking good."

Your fingers worked your clit more firmly now, needier. Little whimpering sounds slipped from your lips, and your hips moved more deliberately—up and down, chasing the feeling.

You were dripping wet, your fingers coated in your own slick, and feeling Rafe’s cock inside you, stretching you open as you gasped and held his gaze, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

And all that previous waiting had only made the sensation between your legs even more intense—your clit swollen and pulsing, fuck, you were a whimpering mess now, bouncing on his cock.

The need for release poured into your desperate movements, your sweet little noises.

"Fuck, baby, you close?" Rafe’s fingers dug deeper into your hips, his own breathing now shallow and low.

You only nodded, another whimper slipping out, your folds so slick and wet that you had to be careful not to let your fingers slip from your clit.

One of Rafe’s hands slid from your hip down your thigh, stroking the sensitive skin as he exhaled, heavy and deep. "Do you want me to finish it for you?"

This time, you shook your head, continuing to pleasure yourself—the slick sounds of your fingers working your clit the only thing filling your mind as you chased that release.

Rafe chuckled lowly. His hand wandered back to your hip, his grip tightening as if to steady you. As much as he loved watching you touch yourself, he had reached his limit. "Then let me help you another way."

You gasped when he suddenly thrust up into you, his tip pressing against your inner walls. But fuck—it only heightened the pleasure, sent a whole new wave of sensation crashing over you.

You leaned forward slightly, giving him better leverage as his arms held you steady. "Does that feel good?"

Again, you only nodded, lips trembling from the overwhelming sensations, swollen from how hard you’d been biting down on them.

All the while, your fingers kept moving—faster, more desperate. You were so fucking close, and it showed in the messy whimpering sounds slipping from your lips, spurring Rafe on even more.

His thick, throbbing cock kept pounding into you, his breathing ragged and unsteady.

Fuck, you were driving him insane.

Your pussy was so wet, stretched around him, that you had to clench just to keep a grip on him—and that, fuck, that nearly sent him over the edge.

The way you were bent over slightly, your sweet tits practically begging to be squeezed—but his hands stayed locked on your hips, holding you in place as he thrust into your dripping pussy with a desperate rhythm.

And you—fuck, just a little more, just a little bit…

Your fingers slipped from your slick folds for a moment, and a frustrated whimper escaped you.

Needy, they found their way back to your swollen clit, and the urgency for release was unbearable.

Fuck, you couldn’t think about anything else—only Rafe’s thick cock stretching you open, the way he was looking at you, full of satisfaction, pride, and just a hint of amusement. Like he was thinking about how embarrassed you had been at first, how shy you were to even admit you wanted this—

And now you were a needy, whimpering mess, desperately trying to make yourself come.

Fuck—Rafe himself was right there. He could feel his release building, the pressure at his tip, the overwhelming need to fill your aching pussy with his cum—

But you were his sweet little angel.

He wanted to watch you fall apart on his cock first.

So, he slowed his thrusts just a little—but made them stronger, more deliberate. And that—fuck, that pulled the sweetest, most desperate little noises from you.

“Rafe…” you sighed, holding his gaze, your fingers working your clit uncontrollably, your cheeks burning with heat. Your breathing was rapid, desperate for release.

"Yeah, baby, let go. Just let yourself go."

His deep moans only fueled the primal hunger building inside you, and you stopped holding back. Letting him thrust into you while you pleasured yourself, whimpering, fuck, that, that—

Your lips parted, brows furrowed, and your eyes rolled back.

Fuckkk.

When you moaned his name again in that sweet, whimpering sound, his cock slammed against your inner walls at the same time, sending a shaking, nerve-wracking wave of pleasure through your entire body—

And you let go.

Breathless, you sank down onto his lap, your fingers moving in slow, delicate strokes to prolong every last bit of your orgasm.

And in that exact moment—when you collapsed fully onto his cock—you felt it.

The warmth of his cum spilling deep inside your pussy.

Rafe’s fingers dug into your skin, his head pressing back into the pillow as a deep groan left his lips. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

With shaking hands and a racing heart, you pulled your fingers away from your dripping pussy, reveling in the lingering waves of pleasure as you came down from your high—still wrapped around his cock.

Rafe kept his grip on your hips as he slowly sat up. A cocky smirk played on his lips when he caught the quiet sigh slipping past yours.

One hand found the side of your neck, soft and gentle, while the other caressed your flushed cheek. His thumb brushed over your swollen bottom lip, and an amused chuckle rumbled from his chest as he noticed the faint bite marks on the inside.

Even though you had been an absolute whimpering mess on his cock, you’d still tried to hold back your sounds.

Rafe leaned in, pressing a kiss to the spot, his next words filled with a protective, almost possessive urgency. "Still my shy little angel."

The hand on your cheek drifted down, fingers grazing your throat until both rested lightly at the sides of your neck, his thumbs pressing just barely against your skin.

"Don’t worry, baby," he murmured, voice low and full of promise. "Next time, I’ll make sure you’re singing my name at full volume."

₊ ⊹୨୧⊹₊ ₊ ⊹୨୧⊹₊ ₊ ⊹୨୧⊹₊ ₊ ⊹୨୧⊹₊ ₊ ⊹୨୧⊹₊ ₊ ⊹୨୧⊹₊

masterlist

help writing smut makes me feel so self-aware bye 😭😭

anyway will probably post a little rafe x reader smut one-shot later (and to all my killing me softly readers, tomorrow i’ll upload part eight 😼)

Ahhh guys I'm so sorry but I fear you need to wait a little longer for part 8 of killing me softly 😔 This week has been super stressful, a lot is going on in my private life right now and I didn't find the time to write part 8. I did start but I don't wanna rush things and make the writing suffer. Especially bc this part is most likely to include reader visiting Rafe's bc of the project AND IT NEEDS TO BE PERFECT !!!!!

This weekend is filled with lots of back and forth in my life and I need to focus on this first. But as soon as this is over (presumably at the beginning of next week), I'm gonna sit down and cook some got shit for you to read 😎 So expect part eight sometime next week, at the very latest on next week's Sunday (I hope).

Thanks for your patience and understanding and see you next week <3

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @vvmaybank @ltristessedureratoujours @mia-iltc @gabrielaperez11 @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @wintercrows @miaaaoa @setmefreemyg @pogueprincesa @chimchimjiminie16

it's uploaded <3 you can find it here

kms masterlist | <- part six | part eight ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, suggestive language, overthinking, SUPER awkward confrontation

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

word count: 3.9k+

a/n: a huge thank you for the big support on the last one, always makes me smile so hard <3 feeling kinda drained atm bc of personal stuff, so i had a harder time writing this one but i hope you guys still enjoy !

Your entire heart—no, your fucking soul—plummeted through your body and straight into the depths of Earth the moment your eyes landed on the message.

Your phone had been off all afternoon, and ever since you got back from Kelce’s, you’d spent the rest of the day in bed, watching crappy Netflix movies and scrolling through TikTok.

Anything to distract yourself from the fact that Rafe had left you on read after your embarrassing attempt to schedule a third project session. Oh, right—before that, he had already been responding half-heartedly. And even before that, he’d been acting weird ever since you turned down his invitation for tomorrow.

It had stressed you out so much that you’d overloaded all your senses just to cope. Eventually, your mom called you down for dinner. You hadn’t been hungry but you dragged yourself downstairs anyway.

And when you came back upstairs—there it was.

You had turned your phone back on, settled onto your windowsill, ready to tell Cara all about your humiliation… but the first thing you saw was his message.

You couldn’t even describe the feeling. It was like someone had smashed your elbow with a hammer, sending every nerve in your body into a full-on meltdown. Because holy shit, this was the last thing you’d expected.

Not only had it taken him almost two hours to reply, but you also had no idea what to make of it. Your mind was blank and swirling with a thousand thoughts at the same time.

It was obvious that things had been tense when you'd last seen each other, but for him to bring it up so directly… THAT WAS CRAZY OMG.

Then again, was he even talking about the weird vibes between you two? And if not, what was he referring to? More importantly—how the hell were you supposed to respond?

A mess of emotions swirled inside you. You were still hurt, still kind of pissed that he had taken so long to reply. But at the same time, you had no idea what was going on in his head, and you didn’t want to judge him too quickly. Maybe he was struggling with this just as much as you were.

HAHAHAHAHA. As if.

You glanced at the clock. Almost 7 PM. You could text him back, theoretically. But did you even want to? Better question—did he even deserve a reply?

Ugh, no. You needed to shut that kind of toxic thinking down real fast. Maybe this was just another one of his weird little attempts to get a reaction out of you.

Should you call Cara and ask for advice?

No—you kind of wanted to handle this on your own. You bit the inside of your cheek and started typing.

Okay. That was good. Neutral, polite—just a normal question, right?

Ugh. There was nothing normal about this situation. Just thinking about it was stressing you out again. He’d probably take another two hours to reply. Or maybe he wouldn’t reply at all, and then you’d have to see him at school tomorrow, and it would be so fucking awkward.

At least you didn’t have any classes with him on Wednesdays, so you could avoid him if necessary. Thursday would be trickier, though—art class.

You leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes in exhaustion. The evening sun warmed your face, and for a brief moment, you felt yourself relax.

And then your phone buzzed in your lap, yanking you right back into reality.

Okay. No matter what he says—I can handle this.

I CAN’T HANDLE THIS.

Oh my God—did he figure out that I was lying?

Sure, saying you had to help Cara clean out her closet was an excuse—just a way to turn down his invitation without sounding like a total asshole—but it wasn’t that unbelievable… was it?

Your face burned as adrenaline shot through your veins.

What the hell were you supposed to do now? Admit that you’d turned him down because you were lowkey terrified of ending up in his bed?

HAHAHAHA. NOT A FUCKING CHANCE.

Okay, okay—then maybe… this.

"READ." AGAIN?

The thought that he was also sitting somewhere, staring at his phone, waiting for your reply sent a weird, uneasy feeling through you.

Did your rejection actually bother him more than you'd thought? Or was this just about his ego—like he couldn’t handle being turned down and now wanted to come out of this as the "winner" or some bullshit?

OH GOD, HE’S TYPING.

Your eyes widened. So, he had figured you out.

Shit.

OKAY, OKAY. Stay calm. Denying it was the only thing you could do right now—because no way in hell were you EVER going to admit that you lied just because you’d spiraled so hard in your head, convincing yourself that his invite was just a sneaky way to get in your pants.

That would definitely get you labeled as a full-on crazy bitch in his book.

So your only move now? Try to gaslight him just a tiny bit.

That made you pause.

Fuck.

You were right back where you'd started in this absolute shitshow of a situation. And the worst part? Rafe wasn’t even wrong. You were dancing around the truth—but what the hell else were you supposed to do?

Okay, focus. Back to the chat.

Shit. You had no clue how to respond.

Because seriously, why the fuck did he care so much about working on this project at his place? You could just as easily do it at school as you did the first day.

Oh god. Were your suspicions right? Did he actually have deeper intentions in mind, or was this just about proving a point?

Damn it, you were already taking way too long to reply—

Bzrrt.

Yep. Rafe was thinking the same.

Alright, fuck it. Just type something.

With furrowed brows and a racing heart, you let your phone sink onto the windowsill beside you. You didn't expect another reply from him.

You pulled your knees to your chest and stared outside. Even the colors of the sunset looked off today as if they couldn’t quite decide what picture to paint the sky.

A huge mess of indescribable feelings swirled in your chest and your head? HOLY FUCKING SHIT, no one would want to be in there right now.

You had no idea how things had started off so well yesterday, only to spiral into this weird, tense situation in less than 48 hours.

Of course, all of this could’ve been avoided if you had just accepted his damn invitation without overthinking it. But no—you were cursed to overanalyze every little thing.

Not that it mattered anymore, because apparently, he’d already figured out your reasoning anyway. And fuck, that was beyond awkward and embarrassing. Rafe Cameron actually thought you believed he was trying to sleep with you.

You rested your head on your knees and closed your eyes.

Maybe I should just fake being sick tomorrow. Or better yet, for the entire two weeks until I don’t have to deal with him anymore.

Yeah, no—that was completely ridiculous. At some point, you’d have to face him again. He was your project partner, even if he’d basically just told you to handle it all on your own.

He was probably just talking shit anyway. If his graduation really depended on his art grade, then he needed this project. And if not? Well, screw it—you’d handle it on your own.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the windowsill. Sleeping was probably the only real way to escape your thoughts right now.

And tomorrow? You’d deal with that when the time came. But something told you it wouldn’t be any easier than the past two days.

-----------------------------------------------

Oh, and you'd been so right.

Because guess who was in the same English class as you?

Kelce fucking Statter.

Fuck, you hadn’t even thought about the fact that you’d have to see him and Topper again as well. Wow, so crazy, considering you all went to the same school and everything…

And the fact that the three of them had probably talked about you after you'd left yesterday? Yeah, hadn’t crossed your mind either. You’d been way too busy spiraling over the whole Rafe invitation disaster.

Okay, chill, it’s fine. Just walk straight ahead, sit down, act normal. Perfect. Class was about to start anyway and—

"Yo, Y/N."

Your eyes squeezed shut for half a second, clenching your jaw. Fuck. You hadn’t even put your bag down yet.

Quickly, you forced a polite smile and turned. “Oh, hey.”

Kelce’s signature smug grin was already in place. “You could’ve stayed a little longer yesterday, you know.”

Um... Was that supposed to be some weird attempt at flirting?

Whatever. Just keep smiling. “Oh, yeah, thanks. But like I'd said, I didn’t wanna interrupt you guys more than necessary. It was your hangout after all.”

Kelce folded his arms over his chest, one brow quirking up teasingly. “Rafe kick you out?”

Your brows knitted together. “What? No.”

“He was pissed after you'd left,” Kelce said, grin stretching wider. “Still is, by the way.”

…

You weren’t sure what was worse—Kelce bringing this up, or the fact that Rafe had definitely been bitching about you to his friends.

You wanted to ask what exactly he’d said but that would be way too weird. Luckily, you didn’t have to say anything because at that moment, Mrs. Andrade walked in and told Kelce to get to his seat.

You sank into your own seat as well, wondering if some kind of weird parallel universe had cracked open during art class on Monday, splitting your soul into a different reality—because seriously, what the fuck had even happened since then?

Didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was avoiding Rafe today. That was the mission, and so far, you were doing a damn good job.

You’d made sure to get dropped off earlier than usual, completely avoided the parking lot, killed a few minutes hiding out in the bathroom, and then came straight here.

So far, so easy.

English was smooth sailing, too. Next up was Math, and since it was in the same classroom, you wouldn’t even have to move. Plus, you’d be rid of Kelce.

Lunch, though, would be tricky. You knew Rafe had afternoon classes on Wednesdays, which meant he’d probably be sticking around.

Whatever. Maybe you could grab lunch with Cara somewhere down the street. That way, you could also fill her in on everything that had happened since yesterday because you’d been way too drained to call her last night after your horrible texting session with Rafe.

You pulled out your phone to text her.

Ugh, okay, maybe you could ask Molly or one of your other friends but most of them usually stayed in the dining hall.

Okokok. One thing at a time.

The rest of English dragged on forever. Mrs. Andrade went over the required reading for the year and stressed how important this final year was for everyone.

And by the time Math rolled around, your brain had completely checked out.

After two hours of numbers, formulas, and all that other crap no one understood, the liberating sound of the bell finally rang.

For you, though, it felt more like a damn death knell.

You packed up your stuff and left the classroom, tension gripping your every move. The hall was crowded with students which was good. That was really good. Now, if you could just get out of the building, cross the courtyard, head down the street—you’d be safe.

Clutching the strap of your bag, you kept your head down and maneuvered through the sea of people. As soon as you slipped outside into the courtyard, you picked up your pace, feet hitting the paved path with purpose.

ALMOST THERE.

...

...

Are you fucking kidding me?

Up ahead, sitting on a bench under a tree, was a way-too-familiar back.

FUCK.

And right across from him? Topper.

What the hell? Shouldn't they be in the dining hall right now? Whatever. Just keep walking. Make a wide circle around them, and it'll be fine.

Actually, nothing was fine. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Topper nod in your direction—And of course, that meant Rafe turned and saw you.

HOW CAN SOMEONE HAVE THIS MUCH BAD LUCK?

You kept walking as naturally as possible but there was no escaping it. Rafe was already on his feet, making his way toward you.

Okay. Just act like you didn’t see him.

"Y/L/N!"

FUCKING HELL.

No way out now. You had no choice but to stop. Every nerve in your body was on edge as you turned around.

Rafe came to a halt in front of you, irritation and amusement flickering across his face. "And you call me immature? Are you seriously running away from me?"

You shook your head. "What? No. I was on my way to get lunch."

He tilted his head slightly, gaze shifting to the empty space beside you. "With the same friend you’re helping clean out her closet today?"

His smug tone made your skin crawl.

Your brows furrowed but the heat rising to your cheeks was out of your control. "No, alone." Then, before he could say anything else, you added, "Do you need something or...?"

Rafe shrugged unfazed. "I don’t know. The way you're acting, maybe you should figure out what you need first."

Wow.

You knew Rafe Cameron could be an asshole but experiencing it firsthand like this? Yeah. Wow.

"I don’t get what you want from me," you said, hating how small your voice sounded.

Rafe shook his head, spreading his fingers in exasperation. "Shit, nothing. That’s the whole point. I just wanted to finish this damn project with you but you keep coming up with cheap excuses—helping your friend, not wanting to waste your free time." He let out a sharp, irritated laugh. "Seriously, what the fuck is that?" He gestured toward his temples. "Do you think I’m an idiot?"

A horrible feeling twisted in your chest. Shit. You KNEW he was RIGHT. You wanted to tell him that—that you were a total idiot, that he had every reason to feel played—but you couldn’t.

You just stood there, gripping the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles had turned white. The only thing you managed to get out was, "No."

"No, what?"

"You’re not an idiot." Your voice wavered slightly. Shit, you hated confrontation. And arguing with someone like Rafe...He didn’t even need to yell. He just had this presence, this intensity, that made you feel so damn small. "But I don’t understand what you want me to say right now."

Rafe let out an annoyed scoff. “I wanna know what your problem with me is. And for fuck’s sake, don’t tell me there isn’t one. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be going out of your goddamn way to avoid working on this project at my place.”

You hated how direct he always was. It was like he could reach right into your brain, pull out your thoughts, and throw them in your face. Somehow, that was both terrifying and extremely irritating.

Alright, you were done with this shit. “Why do we have to go to your place so badly?”

Rafe pulled a face, his lips twisting into a confused smile as he gestured vaguely in the air. “Shit, we can go to yours, I don’t give a fuck. I'm definitely not hanging around in school longer than necessary.”

...

You didn’t mind taking him to your place as much as you minded going to his but still—FUCK, THIS FELT SO INTIMATE. Bringing a guy home? HELLO???? He’d see your room, meet your parents—at that point, you might as well walk him down the aisle.

"You know, I can tell you don’t like this either." His voice yanked you out of your thoughts. "You don’t say much but your face does all the talking."

Heat crawled up your neck. "What? No—I mean, I…" WHERE THE HELL DID MY WORDS GO? "That's just my face."

Rafe scoffed in amusement, the tension in the air easing just a little. “Yeah, nah, cut the crap. I prefer your weird nervous smile.”

WHATWHATWHATWHAT. That was absolutely not a compliment, and yet, your heart started racing, your cheeks burning up.

“So, what’s it gonna be? Your place or mine?” Rafe asked, his gaze drilling into you. Then, with a smirk dripping in mockery, he added, “Or are you actually scared I’ll try to get in your pants?”

OH. MY. GOD.

You shook your head so fast you probably looked like a deranged tomato. “What? Oh my god, no. I—of course not.”

“Shit, you so are.” Rafe let out an amused snort, running a hand over his mouth like he was trying to hold back laughter. “Thought I didn’t give off ‘fuckboy vibes’—or whatever it was you'd said.”

HOLY SHIT. How embarrassing could this possibly get? Answer: yes.

“I...I meant that”, you stammered, absolutely mortified. “I'm serious.”

Rafe chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I can see that.”

You let out a breathy, “Oh my god,” and fought the urge to dig a hole in the ground, throw yourself in, and bury yourself under a thousand tons of cement.

“Shit, you do know if I wanted to get you into bed, I’d do it at a party, not like a pathetic loser through a school project.” His voice was laced with irritated amusement but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t quite place.

Whatever it was, it weirdly helped ease your original worries.

But your blush and the overwhelming humiliation crawling under your skin? Yeah, absolutely not soothed.

You were too overwhelmed, too frozen in place to even form words. Just the fact that this topic had been brought up had completely short-circuited your brain. And the way he was looking at you, all smug with that cocky-ass grin—UGH, it was so fucking humiliating.

Oh, he was milking this for all it was worth like he was having the time of his life watching you squirm. “So that’s why you kept making those weird excuses.”

That finally snapped your brain back into gear. “No! That’s—why do you keep thinking I’m lying?”

Wow. Fantastic, Y/N. Just keep digging that grave.

Rafe raised his brows, clearly feeling like the upper hand in this conversation. “Really? Your whole face is on fire, and you’re still denying it?”

WHAT. WHY WOULD HE MENTION YOUR BLUSH OMG?!

Okay, you had to get out of this. This was officially the worst moment of your life. Yeah, you'd thought that a lot of times in the past few days but this? HOLY FUCKING SHIT, YOU'VE NEVER FELT SO SELF-CONSCIOUS.

So you were left with no other choice but to do the only thing that could put an end to this topic once and for all—because if you didn’t, he was never gonna drop it and you seriously couldn't bear any more of THIS.

You locked eyes with him and never felt so vulnerable.

“Okay! Okay, I—I admit it. I thought it was ... strange that you offered me to come over that late when no one would be home. That— I don’t know, I just…” Oh god, why did he have to look at you like that? “I totally overthought it and freaked out, and then I said that thing with Cara and—I know it’s completely stupid.” You shook your head, annoyed with yourself, and crossed your arms in embarrassment. “I just can’t help it. Overthinking, I mean. It’s a huge problem of mine, and when it comes to this kind of thing… I—I mean, not that it is a thing ... um", you chuckled nervously, "... what I'm trying to say is, I don’t know, I just panicked. It’s not about you or me thinking you’re some fuckboy or player or whatever. It’s just—my brain is just… I don’t know, I just spiraled for no reason and I know it sounds extremely weird, I mean it is weird and I completely understand why you're pissed.”

...

There. It was all out.

And you felt miserable. Having said something like that so openly, IN SCHOOL, AND TO YOUR CRUSH, too?

FUCK, you could feel your whole nerves being ON FIRE. Because now you looked like a liar AND a crazy bitch.

You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, feel it pulsing in your face. You felt sick. You just wanted to crawl into bed and never come out again.

And Rafe? You had never seen him look so—genuinely surprised (?). Like he actually had no clue what to think or how to react.

Shit. It must be really bad if Rafe Cameron was speechless.

A crease formed between his brows, and before he could roast you into the next century, you tried to salvage what little dignity you had left. “Please don't think I'm crazy—”

“Shit, you really need to get laid.”

You blinked, completely taken aback. “What?”

“Someone needs to fuck the overthinking right out of you,” he said, waving a hand in your direction. “And not just once.”

Caught completely off guard by his reaction, all you could manage was a terrible nervous chuckle because WHAT THE FUCK.

Rafe let out a short laugh. “You spend way too much time up here.” He tapped a finger against his temple. “You gotta get all that shit out somehow.”

You furrowed your brows, equal parts confused and mortified. The whole conversation from earlier? Instantly forgotten. “That—” you laughed, somewhere between horrified and incredulous. “I don't... It’s not that simple.”

“Oh yeah? Have you tried?” His look told you he already knew the answer.

And that made your face BURN.

“The break’s almost over”, you blurted out with an awkward smile. “And I haven’t even eaten yet.”

Great safe.

Rafe raised his brows slightly as if debating whether to push you further or finally put you out of your misery. “Alright,” he said at last. “Just to be sure—you do know where I live, right?”

In a split second, the heat in your face evaporated, replaced by sheer, stunned disbelief. “What?” was all you could manage.

“For when you come over later,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Or do you actually want me to pretend you’re really going to your friend’s place after you've just admitted it was bullshit?”

SERIOUSLY. He was a master at making things excruciatingly uncomfortable.

You furrowed your brows but before you could say anything, he cut in: “And just to be clear, this is not a sex date.” He smiled boyishly. “Unless you do feel like shutting off your brain for once.”

JESUS HOLY FUCKING CHRIST. You were officially done for.

You knew he was just messing with you, maybe even trying to lighten the mood or calm your nerves in his weird way, BUT THAT WAS ENOUGH OMG.

Before your system could completely crash and burn, you mustered the last bit of dignity you had left. “Enjoy your lunch,” you said, voice only slightly shaky, before turning around to go dig your own grave.

“Six, at my place” he called after you. “No need for condoms.”

THIS GUY. You seriously had no words or thoughts left.

This whole conversation had left you completely drained. Jumping out of a plane or climbing Mount Everest would have been less adrenaline-consuming than whatever THIS had been.

And despite how utterly flustered, embarrassed, humiliated, exposed, and mortified this conversation had left you… you couldn’t stop the small smile that dared to creep onto your lips.

Because somehow, despite his horribly accurate and straightforward observation of you, Rafe Cameron had in fact managed to ease your worries. That, even though your brain had been buzzing in your head just moments ago, completely shattered and restless.

And whether that had been his intention or not, in some strange way, it made you feel seen—in the best and worst way possible.

-----------------------------------------------

kms masterlist | <- part six | part eight ->

-----------------------------------------------

Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @vvmaybank @ltristessedureratoujours @mia-iltc @gabrielaperez11 @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx

kms masterlist | <- part five | part seven ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, overthinking/anxiety, reader being dramatic lol

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

word count: 4.2k+

a/n: this one has less action or rather serves more as a little breather bc i wanted to focus more on what's going on in reader's head as well as rafe's hihihi. next part will have them interacting in person again :) i hope you guys enjoy and as always super thankful for any support <33

With a slightly lighter feeling in your chest and a deep sigh, you let your phone slip into your bag.

Most of your conversations with Cara about guys were filled with delusions but every now and then, she somehow found the right words to quiet your overanalyzing brain.

At least for a moment.

You turned onto the street leading to your house, grateful for the short walk and the fresh air—though the sun beating down on your cheeks made them feel even warmer than they already were.

Your place was just a short walk from Kelce's, practically around the corner, and honestly, you couldn’t have handled another car ride with Rafe today. Not that it mattered—he hadn’t offered one anyway which, for some reason, stung more than it should have. So you’d just said goodbye to the three of them, thanked Kelce for the pizza, and left.

And yet, you couldn’t shake how weird the energy between you and Rafe had been after he’d brought up the idea of going to his place tomorrow.

Ugh, you didn’t even want to think about it anymore—it made your stomach twist—but your brain kept replaying the conversation on a loop.

"My dad and Rose are at some charity event. Wheezie's on a school trip this week, and Sarah can do whatever she wants, I don't care."

The moment those words had left his mouth, you knew he had to have something else in mind besides just working on a school project.

Or maybe you were completely wrong. Maybe his grade actually mattered to him because he needed it to graduate and it was just pure coincidence that he would have the house to himself that night. It’s not like he’d explicitly said he was expecting anything more.

In fact, hadn’t he even mentioned that it’d be more relaxing for you to work in a quieter space than at school? Plus, his weird attempt at trying to calm your nerves with the fidget spinner in his car before that...

Shit, maybe he is just trying to be nice. Maybe this really was just about making sure you were comfortable.

But if it wasn’t… Because somehow, it was hard to believe that Rafe Cameron gave a damn about you… especially after just two days of barely getting to know each other.

So, if you had accepted and the whole thing would've turned out to be a setup for a hookup, then that would've seriously been the end of you. You’d panic, probably overreact, and make things painfully awkward—or worse, you’d go along with it out of some stupid fear of looking like a clueless virgin and blowing your unrealistic shot with him.

Just thinking of the idea of having your first time with Rafe Cameron, embarrassing yourself in the process, and—OH GOD.

This was all so… UGH.

You pulled out your keys and stepped into the house, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Your parents were both busy with work, so you made a beeline for your room and collapsed onto your bed.

But isn’t this what I’ve always wanted? Some kind of connection with him, no matter how.

You frowned.

No. Not like this.

Maybe—okay, definitely—you were spiraling, overthinking everything, and projecting ideas onto him that weren’t even real. Because the truth was, Rafe wasn’t even a fuckboy. You knew that. Yeah, every now and then he was seen leaving a party with a girl, but normally, he'd spend the night with Kelce, Topper, and some other guys in some back room, doing coke or other stupid boy stuff.

Great. Now you felt like shit for having completely overreacted. You’d shoved the poor guy into a box and immediately assumed he was just trying to sleep with you.

Which was so stupid—and totally contradicted what you’d been thinking before: that he didn’t want anything to do with you at all.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You buried your face in a pillow and let out a frustrated groan. Your brain had been running at full speed for the past two days. Cara was right. You were overthinking—just in the opposite direction this time.

And yet… you still didn’t know Rafe’s real intentions and the fear of the unknown was too overwhelming for you to just take that risk.

That’s why earlier you had simply smiled and said, "That’s really nice, the invite, I mean, but I already made plans with Cara tomorrow afternoon to help her clean out her closet and I have no idea how long that’ll take. Besides, it’s your family-free evening—wouldn’t want you wasting that on a school project."

It was a lie. You hadn't have planned anything with Cara but what else were you supposed to say?

On the first glimpse, Rafe had actually taken it better than you'd expected. He had just shrugged and said, "Okay. Guess you're not as much of a nerd as I thought."

You’d given him another nervous smile, and that was it. The topic was closed, and you both went back to working.

But you knew better.

Your whole life, you’d been hyper-aware of the smallest details around you—how someone looked at you, how they reacted, how they spoke, whether they were actually listening, how they behaved after an interaction, the way they smiled—did it reach their eyes or not?

In short, you noticed everything.

And when it came to Rafe, your brain was running on overdrive because that guy? He was a fucking thousand-sided Rubix cube.

Even though he often said unfiltered things without a second thought, his body language always told a much bigger story. That much you had learned in the last two days.

Which was why you had definitely caught the slight hesitation, the barely-there crease of his brows before he had responded. And in that split second, you knew—he hadn’t liked getting turned down.

Rafe Cameron had an ego. A big one. That much was obvious. And someone like him didn’t take it well when things didn’t go his way—whatever his true intentions with that invitation had been.

So it hadn’t surprised you when he sat a little farther from you after coming back from the bathroom, sinking deeper into the couch with his arms crossed. When his answers and input on the project became noticeably shorter, when his eyes drifted to his phone more often, his leg bouncing slightly, or when that effortless charm—the kind you’d assumed was just second nature to him—suddenly felt replaced by a forced, detached sense of cooperation.

Simply put, he probably wasn’t used to rejection. And you had pissed him off.

If it had been Cara or any of your other friends, you would have said something—you hated dealing with that kind of tension. But Rafe wasn’t a close friend, nor was he anywhere near the phase of becoming one.

So, you had endured the rest of the hour with spinning thoughts and felt nothing but relief when he had finally called it a day.

When you walked with Rafe to the porch to say goodbye to Kelce and Topper, you politely declined when Kelce asked if you wanted to stay longer. Said something along the lines of you not being Rafe’s "little nerd bitch" or some shit like that and that the invitation to his place also included you actually hanging out with them.

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Not that it mattered. You didn’t care about Kelce. It was the way Rafe had simply given you a nod for a goodbye that had left a bitter taste in your mouth.

And maybe it was in that moment—or rather, in the lack of his usual energy—that you'd realized this was how he treated people who meant absolutely nothing to him.

This, in turn, had sent you spiraling into the worst overthinking session of your life because—WHAT THE HELL DID RAFE CAMERON EVEN WANT?

A good grade? Someone to carry him through art class? A new friends-with-benefits-girlie he would drop after two weeks? A one-time hookup? A harmless friendship? Just the thrill of throwing you off your game?

A relationship was out of the question—he had never shown any interest in that during all his years at Kildare Academy. Every girl who had ever gotten involved with him knew that.

So, be for fucking real, what the hell did he want from you?

You wanted to text him right then and there. Hey, so, um, I’ve had a crush on you since fifth grade haha, and now that we’ve actually spent some time together, I keep getting these weird-ass signals from you hahahahha, soooo… what the actual fuck is your problem?

You squinted your eyes in embarrassment and ran your hands over your face in frustration.

Cara would do it, you thought. She’d write the damn text—or hell, even send a voice memo or call him outright. She hated mixed signals with a passion, and something like this, no matter how small, was the kind of thing she wouldn’t just let slide.

Shit. You know what? Why not? Huh? Why shouldn’t I do the same?

Your fingers were already pulling up your phone, hovering over Rafe’s chat. But then you hesitated. Aside from the fact that this was a total impulse move, what the hell were you even supposed to say?

Realistically.

Because no matter how you'd phrase it, bringing up weird vibes after just two days would make you sound like some kind of psycho.

Who the hell does that?

Fuck, but why was this messing with your head so much? Why did it bother you so damn much that he’d acted even slightly different? Sure, yeah, you had a crush on him but why were his mood swings affecting you like crazy?

Okay. Relax. Seriously.

Maybe you should text him something else first—just to test the waters. See if he really was being distant, or if you were just spiraling over nothing.

Yeah. Yeah! That sounded like a plan (not a good one but if you didn't do anything you'd go crazy in the next few hours).

And the moment you hit send, all the courage and impulsiveness drained from your body in an instant.

What was Rafe going to think…? Not even an hour had passed since you'd said goodbye, and here you were texting him?

Plus, the text itself sounded so... FUCKING FAKE OH MY HOLY SHIT, UGH THIS WASN'T YOU.

FUCKING HELL, this was so embarrassing. He definitely thinks I’m absolutely desperate for him now. Okay, maybe I can still delete the message before he—

Oh.

Your heart sank straight through the floor, and you suddenly wanted to crawl under your blanket and never see the light of day again.

So he really was annoyed in some way.

Okay, okay, no big deal, everything’s fine, it's all good hahahahah.

Except your pulse was racing, and your thoughts were spiraling. That one SpongeBob meme with the burning brain and all the little panicked SpongeBobs running around? That was exactly what was happening in your head right now.

Frantically, you started typing your next message.

The worst part about this whole situation wasn’t this absolutely terrible fake-ass message that made you look even more desperate and needy after his half-assed reply. It wasn’t even the fact that he had read it immediately. Nope—what really did it was the fact that, despite having read it right away, he didn’t respond for the next thirty minutes. And not even in the thirty afterward.

And that was the final blow for today. Completely embarrassed and feeling sick to your stomach, you shut off your phone, buried yourself under your blanket, put on your headphones, and let some random Netflix garbage play in the background. You didn't even bother texting Cara because of how horrible you felt.

Because the truly humiliating part? A tiny part in you, probably your stupid 11-year-old-self, had actually believed, for even a second, that there was some kind of spark between you and Rafe—that maybe, just maybe, he had seen something in the quiet girl who sat on the sidelines in class and at parties.

And even worse? The fact you were reacting this intensely to an absolutely non-intense situation. After. Two. Fucking. Days.

But deep down, it wasn’t just about this one moment. It was the disappointment of having been into Rafe for years, finally getting to interact with him for real, and then not getting to live out the before-bedtime scenario that had played out in your head so many times before.

Or maybe it was simply that his reaction had pretty much confirmed what you were trying not to admit: If he had wanted anything from you at all, it was probably something shallow. And your refusal to come over tomorrow had bruised his ego.

Whatever. Screw this. Screw Rafe, his stupid comments, his smug little grin—screw all of it.

You turned up the volume of the movie, trying in vain to drown out your spiraling thoughts. But your mind was a curse and you couldn’t stop wondering what Rafe actually thought of you.

-----------------------------------------------

"And now she suddenly wants to meet up again," Rafe said, squinting irritated at your last message. "After bailing on tomorrow. No clue what kind of bullshit this is."

Topper tilted his head. "Thought she just didn’t have time?"

"Yeah, sure. Because she has to help her friend clean out her closet." Rafe scoffed, exhaling annoyed as he let his phone drop onto the porch couch. "I know bullshit excuses when I hear them. Sarah pulls the same crap all the time when she doesn’t feel like helping Rose out."

Kelce nearly choked on a hit from his hookah. "I don’t know, man, sounds to me like big bad Rafe Cameron just can’t handle getting curved for once."

Rafe’s brows furrowed. "Keep your fucking mouth shut. The only girls you pull are the ones too drunk to recognize your ugly ass." He crossed his arms, shaking his head. "This is some bullshit. I just wanted to get this fucking project done and now it's getting dragged out even more."

"Oh, of course," Kelce smirked, winking. "It's just about the project. It’s fine, bro, you can admit she’s a cute chick."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, she seems nice. Really quiet but not in a bad way, you know?"

"And?" Rafe pulled a face. "She called Kelce ‘nice’ too but we both know he’s a shitface."

This time, Kelce actually choked on the hookah smoke. "She did?"

"I’m just saying, she’s not loud and all over you like the girls that you usually hang out with", Topper replied, scratching his chin. "I also don't remember her ever being involved in any weird girl drama."

Rafe let out a dry laugh. "Nah, the way she acts sometimes? Makes me think I'm talking to two different people. One moment she's all shy and anxious and the next she's got this big ass attitude like she's on some Two-Face type shit."

"Oh, I bet she's a freak under all that shy girl exterior", Kelce said, grinning, but the other two ignored him.

"So, you're weirded out because she got a ... personality?" Topper asked and shook his head as if he couldn’t quite keep up. "Not everyone's as upfront with their self as Kelce, you know."

Rafe crossed his arms behind his head, already annoyed by this whole conversation. He didn’t even know why he was talking to these two idiots about you in the first place.

"I'm just pissed off at whatever bullshit she has suddenly going on", he said.

Topper raised an eyebrow. "Okay but why didn't you call her out immediately?"

"Yeah", Kelce chimed in. "Always talking big and now you puss out."

Rafe narrowed his eyes like he was debating whether to deck Kelce or let his bullshit slide. "Because I need this stupid project to work out." Rafe shook his head, his expression twisting slightly, feeling weirded out by this whole conversation. "And 'cause she’s always so fucking tense and nervous like I'm holding her at gunpoint. Shit's annoying as fuck."

He scoffed but he couldn't shake the feeling that you were indeed throwing him off in some weird inexplicable way. And sometimes your cautious behavior reminded him of Wheezie which somehow made your nervousness feel familiar.

"Sounds like she’s pissed she got stuck with you as a partner, bro", Kelce said, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. "Probably figured out you’re just hanging on her ass to pass the class."

For some reason, that pissed Rafe off more than it should have but before he could snap back, Topper cut in. "I think you’re just overwhelming her."

Both Rafe and Kelce turned to him with matching confused stares.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Rafe pulled a face.

Topper shrugged. "Bringing her straight here, you know… I mean Kelce alone is already a lot and maybe this was just moving too fast for her, I don't know. She doesn't seem the type to hang out with guys a lot."

"Moving too fast—Topper, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I’m just saying—"

"She thinks you're trying to get into her pants", Kelce explained.

This time, it was Topper who pulled a face. "No! That’s not—"

"Okay," Rafe cut him off, rubbing his nose in irritation. "Both of you shut the fuck up. Neither of you knows shit."

Kelce smirked. "Aww, sounds like she's messing with your head."

That was enough. Rafe would’ve loved nothing more than to slam his fist into Kelce’s face right then and there but instead he stood up, grabbing his keys. "Okay, heard enough bullshit from you today."

Kelce just waved after him. "See you tomorrow, bro."

And yet, as much as that conversation with the two biggest idiots on Earth had irritated Rafe, it had also made him think. Which was a damn weird feeling because normally, he didn’t waste a second thought on stuff like this—or better yet, on any girl.

Especially not one who'd never really caught his attention in all the years at Kildare Academy. Sure, somewhere in the back of his mind, his subconscious had probably registered your presence. He knew you existed—your last name was recognizable, after all.

But as a person? You were more of a fleeting thought, like Oh shit, she actually talks? whenever you spoke up in class every few weeks, or Huh, guess she has a personality, when you were tipsy on some random couch, laughing loudly with your friend at a party.

But that was about it. Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to waste brainpower on what he saw as background characters who occasionally made noise. And besides, he wasn’t exactly drawn to what appeared like boredom.

So, at first, he was actually kind of annoyed when Mr. Smith paired him up with the quiet girl. Because, yeah—as his graduation forecast had made clear, Art might be his ticket to scraping by in high school, but how the hell was he supposed to pull that off if his partner was basically a mute rock?

On top of that, you seemed like a total nerd, and he figured if you realized he wasn’t going to put in any effort, you’d rat him out. That would be the end of his diploma, meaning his dad would be horribly disappointed and that was something Rafe was trying his hardest to avoid. No way in hell would he allow Sarah to be the family's favorite.

So, he was determined to get this project over with as fast and as well done as possible. First day, straight to work, setting the base for this shitty project, sticking to your side to make you believe he was trying to put in effort. That had to be the way to impress someone like you, right?

Yeah, he’d expected your first lunch together to end in painfully awkward silence—the kind that would have him wanting to put a bullet in his head from sheer boredom.

He'd been wrong.

Sure, at first, he’d had to push things along but with a shy girl like you that was to be expected. What he hadn’t predicted was how blunt you were without you even realizing it. And the absolute crazy part? If Kelce, Topper, that bitch Ruthie, or literally anyone else said the things you did, it would made his blood boil.

But somehow, with you, it didn’t feel like ... you were mocking or judging him or some shit like that. Your honesty surprised him so much that most of the time he was too amused to seriously confront you about it.

In fact, Rafe found it oddly refreshing.

On top of that, he was used to people sucking up to him, trying to get on his good side because of his dad, or going out of their way to impress him. And why wouldn’t they? He was a fucking Cameron. But you? No clue what was wrong with you but you acted like you were trying to do the exact opposite.

You didn’t try to grab his attention. Most of the time you didn’t just sit there when he ran his mouth. You didn’t kiss his ass with over-the-top compliments or ask about the family business with that fake, polite bullshit—no, you had actually asked him how he was doing today.

Right after he'd asked you to wait in the car when that fucking idiot Scott had shown up, trying to buy a bag of coke. Rafe had nearly slammed him against the damn car—because how fucking stupid could you be, doing that on school grounds? Afterward, he’d been pissed. But instead of teasing him about it or lecturing him about his attitude like his dad would have, you’d just… asked if he was okay.

And the worst part? You actually seemed like you'd meant it.

For a split second, Rafe had even considered venting on how much everything pissed him off. Not just the jerk Scott, no fucking everything that had been on his mind in the past few weeks. Shit, he was glad he'd held back because what made him even consider it?

The fact, you'd somehow given him the feeling of not being judged??? The fuck. Shit, he'd probably sniffed a line too much last weekend because this was fucking crazy.

That would also explain why he had been so tense today. Like when it had pissed him off when Kelce had been drooling over you today. Or when Topper had started sucking up to you—probably just hoping to get another shot with your best friend through you but still, somehow Rafe had to try even harder to hold back his temper than usual.

Shit, up until now, he hadn’t given a single fuck about you. But this? Whatever the hell had flipped in his brain after Kelce had opened his mouth when he first spotted you two... it was messing with him.

And why he had asked you so insistently about Kelce earlier? Rafe had no fucking idea. All he knew was that it bugged him when you'd changed the subject instead of giving him a straight answer.

Oh, and then you had the nerve to turn down his invitation to continue this stupid project tomorrow at his place—with some cheap-ass excuse? Holy shit, that had really pissed him off.

Rafe couldn’t afford to screw up this project though, or he would’ve called you out on it right then and there. Because why the fuck would you say no—unless you actually couldn’t stand him?

Or was that idiot Topper right? Was Rafe being too overwhelming or some shit like that? Of course, he had noticed that you seemed to spend a lot of time in your own head—Wheezie was like that and it wasn't always for the better. So, was there a possibility that you were overthinking his invitation like you had with the whole coming-over-to-Kelce situation?

The thought made him scowl.

Silently, Rafe pulled his Mercedes into the Tannyhill garage and shut off the engine, his fingers drumming relentlessly on the steering wheel.

What Kelce had said came back into his mind and his mood went down through the floor. Rafe knew that idiot didn't know shit and he'd just been running his mouth as usual and yet it messed with Rafe's head.

But did you actually think he was trying to get in your pants?

Sure, he wasn’t gonna lie—you were pretty to look at. But Rafe wasn’t some horny dog trying to shove his dick up the ass of every random girl he met. And he'd thought he'd made that very clear. In fact, just yesterday at lunch, you'd also made it very clear you did NOT think of him like that.

So what the fuck was your problem?

Pissed off, Rafe picked up his phone from the middle console, eyeing your last text message. You wanted to meet up again on Thursday. The fuck? Was this some kind of fucked up power move? Turning him down, so he could be the one to dance to your bidding?

Nah. Fuck that.

He started typing.

-----------------------------------------------

kms masterlist | <- part five | part seven ->

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Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @vvmaybank @ltristessedureratoujours @mia-iltc @gabrielaperez11 @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron

kms masterlist | <- part four | part six ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, suggestive language, overthinking, light tension, kelce being kelce

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron's intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and y/n's mind? that shit was even more tangled. but she hadn't spent seven years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through her fingers ... right?

word count: 4.5k+

a/n: thank you guys sm for the kind words and support on the last one, this always means sm to me <3 i also had sm fun with this one and felt like it’s time for the first little drama highigi. also next part will include a little rafe pov 😈 anyway, hope you enjoy <3

"Yo, what took you so long? Did you two have a quickie in the car or something?" That was the first thing Kelce Statter said as he opened the front door, glancing between you and Rafe with an amused grin, his pupils just a little too wide.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

And here we go.

Like clockwork, heat shot straight to your cheeks, and as usual, whenever you were overwhelmed and didn’t know how to react, that tense, awkward smile appeared on your face.

Not even a minute here, and one dumb comment had already thrown you off balance. This was off to a fantastic start.

Rafe let out an annoyed snort. "Kelce, shut the fuck up."

"Whoa, dude, no need to get your claws out." Kelce raised his hands in mock innocence, tilting his head with a smug smirk. His gaze landed on you—your awkward smile and deep red face more specifically—before flicking back to Rafe. "Aww, you got her all shy and flustered. You must’ve been good."

Okay, that’s it. THIS was officially the most awkward moment of your life, and the worst part? You were too stunned to speak.

Rafe ran a hand down his face, clearly over Kelce’s shit, before shooting him a sharp glare. "Jesus Christ, dude, do me a favor and, just once in your fucking life, pull your head out of your ugly ass."

Wow. What subtlety. You honestly couldn’t tell if Rafe liked or despised him. Probably something in between both.

Before Kelce—still stupidly grinning—could fire back, Rafe stepped into the doorway and shoved him (softly?) aside. "Now move, before I deck you."

"Love you too, bro," Kelce said, throwing a wink in your direction, before disappearing down the hallway.

Well, what an interesting dynamic.

Rafe turned back to you with an exasperated sigh. "I swear I’m gonna kill that idiot one day."

Now would be a good time to SAY SOMETHING.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you smiled awkwardly, blurting out dryly, "He seems… nice."

NICE? Of all the words you could’ve chosen, 'nice' had to be at the very bottom of the list to describe Kelce Statter.

Rafe let out a short, amused breath. "Sure, he’s a sweetheart." He motioned toward the inside of the house with a nod. "C’mon, or we’ll end up with nothing but crust. His appetite’s as big as his mouth."

So you followed him inside like a stupid little duckling.

In the living room, a massive flat tree-stump-and-glass coffee table was already “set”—if you could even call it that. A big, colorful pizza sat on a wooden board in the center, surrounded by a chaotic mess of four plates, a few glasses, cigarette packs, a lighter, car keys, a can of deodorant, an almost empty roll of paper towels, as well as a bag of weed and a used grinder.

In your mind, you titled this condition Kelce Statter core.

A forest-green semicircle couch wrapped around half the table, facing a gigantic flat-screen TV. Family Guy was playing on the screen, the volume low but audible.

Kelce was perched at one end of the couch, hunched forward as he shoved a slice of pepperoni pizza into his mouth. Topper sat somewhere in the middle, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw the two of you—or more specifically, Rafe.

With a casual “Yo, bro,” Topper got up and dapped Rafe up. He shot you a neutral smile, his voice carrying a friendly vibe. “We’re all apologizing in advance for Kelce’s shitty jokes.”

Now that was what you’d call nice.

From the background came a muffled, “Hey!”

A genuine smile tugged at your lips but before you could respond, Rafe made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Okay, okay, let’s just eat. The idiot’s already inhaled half the pizza.”

Topper sat back down next to Kelce while you settled on Rafe’s right—at a comfortably safe distance—at the opposite end of the couch. Still, your heart and mind refused to slow down.

But as your stomach filled, a bit of the tension in your body started to ease. Surprisingly, the pizza tasted amazing—like, really really good.

Was Kelce secretly some kind of passionate hobby chef? Probably. Would make sense, considering he was on his healthy gym grind like Rafe had told you.

As the minutes passed, the guys were deep in their own conversation—which you were thankful for because eating, talking, and not embarrassing yourself was an art you had yet to master.

Kelce was raving about some new protein/creatine/whatever powder he swore by, Topper was hyping up an upcoming surf competition he was planning to enter, and Rafe had some big news about a deal his dad had recently landed.

The only thing remotely interesting to you as a surfer was the tournament Topper had mentioned. The rest you tuned out, peacefully eating your pizza, taking an occasional sip of your Coke, and half-watching some weird Brian-and-Stewie subplot on TV.

This actually almost felt like hanging out with friends.

At some point, Topper mentioned your name, and you snapped out of your little bubble, turning away from the screen in surprise.

Shit, what did he say?

You swallowed the bite of pizza in your mouth and gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry, what?”

Kelce jumped in before Topper could repeat himself, seemingly taking your disinterest in the conversation as a win. “Oh shit, you’re into Family Guy?”

Your thumb nervously traced a spot on the edge of your plate. “Yeah, I mean, it's a good show to watch on the side.”

“And South Park, Rick and Morty?”

You felt all three of them staring at you. “They’re good, I guess. I mean, South Park isn’t really my thing but—”

Kelce gasped like you’d just insulted his entire family. “Not your thing?! That’s—”

“Jesus, bro, let her at least finish,” Topper interrupted with a roll of his eyes because well Kelce had just interrupted him.

Rafe nodded in agreement, waving his hand toward the kitchen. “Seriously, go grab more paper towels or some shit.”

Kelce shook his head, clearly unimpressed, but stood up anyway, plate in hand. “Wow, you guys are actual mean girls.”

You smiled because the other two did, but somehow, you still felt a little bad for Kelce. Sure, he was annoying, loud, and way too blunt, but getting shut down by your friends every two minutes had to sting, right?

Wow. Am I seriously feeling sorry for Kelce Statter?

Topper shook his head as Kelce disappeared into the kitchen. “Sometimes I wonder how he manages to pull any girl at all.”

Rafe shrugged, wiping his hands on the last paper towel. “Maybe they’re just hoping his dick’s as big as his mouth.”

That got a laugh out of Topper—one that, in your opinion, was a little too enthusiastic. “Yeah, probably.”

Okayyy. If you were Rafe Cameron Stan No. 1, then Topper was definitely No. 2.

Rafe seemed to notice your lack of reaction, turning to you with a crooked smile, like he couldn’t quite comprehend why you didn’t find this hilarious. “What? Would you go for a guy like that?”

WHAT KIND OF QUESTION WAS THAT? Better yet, how were you supposed to answer?!

On one hand, you’d never in a million years go for Kelce Statter. On the other, it felt wrong to sit in his house and join in on roasting him.

Your cheeks flushed pink as you gave an awkward smile. “No, I mean… I barely know him.”

God, what a stupid answer.

“That wasn’t a real no,” Topper remarked with a smirk, and you wished the ground would just swallow you whole.

Rafe’s brows twitched just slightly but before he could throw another dumb question your way, you tried to salvage it. “I mean, I just… I wouldn’t want to judge someone based on their looks or, uh, any shallow first impressions.”

Great. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

Rafe and Topper stared at you like you’d just announced that you believed in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

OH GOD, they probably thought you liked Kelce now. Worse, RAFE probably did.

AHHH, HELP.

“Okay, you better not tell him that,” Topper said, amused. “His giant ego will rub it in your face forever. Or worse, he’ll actually think he has a shot with you.”

...

You weren’t sure what was worse—how aware you were of your burning cheeks, Rafe’s unreadable look that could mean anything from irritation to amusement to indifference, or the fact that Topper had basically just said you were too good for Kelce. Which was probably supposed to be a compliment, but the way he’d said it with that weird teasing undertone … yeah, no thanks.

Rafe leaned forward with a defiant-yet-amused snort, cutting off your view of Topper, and gathered the last three plates. “Shit, that’s enough talk about Kelce,” he said, shoving the stack of plates into Topper’s hands.

For a moment, Topper just stared at him, then he stood up, casting a brief glance at you before looking back at Rafe. “Sure, yeah, guess we’ll head out to the porch then. Have fun with your… art project work session or whatever.”

And with that, he disappeared in the same direction as Kelce.

Now it was just you and Rafe again. But for some reason, alongside your nervousness, there was this inexplicable tension lingering in the air from the conversation earlier.

This whole thing was SO FUCKING WEIRD anyway.

Yesterday morning, Kelce, Topper, and Rafe had been… well, strangers to you. And now? Now you were sitting in Kelce Statter’s living room, having had lunch with the three of them, and now you were spending your FREE TIME—like, not during class, not during lunch, but your actual free time—working on a school project with Rafe.

This whole cozy setup, this couch, the TV running in the background, the whole environment—it all felt so… intimate. Even though it absolutely wasn’t.

And then all those comments, those questions… This was so far out of your comfort zone, and you had no idea how to deal with such a sudden shift.

And, honestly? You were still stuck on why Rafe had even invited you here in the first place. Yeah, sure, to work on a school project. But at his friend’s house? When you could’ve just done it during lunch. It didn’t make any sense.

And the dangerous part? Somewhere deep down, there was this tiny part of you that thought maybe, just maybe, Rafe wasn’t just after a good grade.

The fact that Rafe didn’t shift over, even though the couch was now completely clear (sure, there was still a decent gap between you two, but still...), didn’t go unnoticed. Quite the opposite, he spread out his legs slightly more, adjusting his position.

You had to seriously focus to avoid accidentally looking at... certain areas.

GIRL PLS.

“Don't tell me you're still nervous after having experienced these idiots firsthand” he said, his tone playful but noticeably more detached than usual.

Could I get one moment—just ONE—in which my face isn’t on fire? PLEASE.

You forced a clumsy smile. “I wasn’t nervous... just curious.”

Oh, yeah. He’s totally going to believe that.

Rafe raised an unimpressed brow, his smirk making it clear he didn’t buy it. “Yeah, anxious curious.” He sank deeper into the couch, putting one leg on the edge of the table, and looked up at you with his pretty blue eyes. “So, you have a thing for Kelce, huh? Is that why you acted so weird when I asked you to come along?” His voice was teasing, almost challenging, but there was something distant in it too, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?? Like, LITERALLY WHAT?? What kind of question was that?

You honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking or being serious. His expression gave absolutely nothing away. Also didn’t he just say to Topper to put the Kelce topic aside?

You shook your head, brows furrowing in irritation (and let’s be real, you probably looked like a sulky tomato while doing so). “What? No! I mean… what? Where is that even coming from?”

Rafe shrugged, his tone maddeningly casual. “He wouldn’t say no, just saying. Kelce would take any gi—”

“But I would!” you shot back, sharper than you intended. “Saying ‘no’, I mean.” You froze for a second, your brows furrowing further as if you’d just misheard yourself. “Wait, what were you gonna say?”

There it was again. That shift in his mood. Barely noticeable but it was there—the way his brows raised just slightly, his eyes focusing on you like he was daring you in some strange way.

“What?” he asked, clearly testing to see if you’d let it slide or push further.

And, of fucking course, you’d push further. Crush or not, no way would you let that audacity slide.

You tilted your head, and honestly, maybe it was the stress of the day catching up to you, but the way he looked so smug, so goddamn full of himself, pissed you off. "You were trying to say that Kelce would go for any girl anyway." You furrowed your brows. "What… how am I supposed to interpret that?"

You couldn’t help but remember the comment he’d made earlier at school—Kelce always brings some random chick to our hangouts.

So, was that how he saw you? Some random, disposable girl for his friend? Was that the point of this? To hook you up with Kelce?

You had no idea why but before this, thinking of hookups in general had been mildly amusing to you. But now that it was somehow in the air, it just pissed you off.

Something flickered in Rafe’s eyes, but he shook his head, his mouth tugging down in mock innocence. “Don’t know.” And then, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he added, “You didn’t say ‘no’ earlier. You know, all that talk about 'not judging people by surface-level impressions' or whatever.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “What the fuck, I never—... I'm not interested in--” You stopped yourself mid-sentence when you noticed how observant he was eyeing you.

Either he was messing with you—trying to get a reaction out of you by asking these upfront questions—or he was actually being serious.

“This feels like gaslighting", you said dryly, though you couldn’t stop the somehow amused smile from creeping onto your face.

A crooked grin spread across Rafe’s features and the crease between his brows disappeared. “I'm just repeating what you’ve said.”

Seriously, what did he want you to say? “Yes, I like Kelce”??? Did he actually believe your words earlier had hinted at some interest in Kelce? Just the thought of it made your skin crawl.

Your expression shifted back to a frown. Hesitantly you asked, “Is this like... a bro-playing-matchmaker-for-bro thing?”

Did he want you to start something with Kelce? You couldn’t make sense of all the questions—this whole thing with Topper earlier, too. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Kelce secretly had a thing for you and they were both playing his wingmen in a very strange way.

OH. MY. GOD.

That would explain why Rafe had invited you here in the first place. But then again, why were you—just the two of you—about to work on the project?

Even your confusion was confused at this point.

“Shit, no,” Rafe shot back with an amused smirk, crossing his arms. “Like I’d play wingman for Kelce.” He shrugged, his grin lingering. “But you do seem like someone who needs help in this area.”

…

WHAT.

Did he think you were some kind of helpless maiden who needed assistance at courting the other sex? Well, it wasn’t that far from the truth, be for real, but that wasn’t the point. Why would he even say something like this? Was he suggesting to be your wingman or some shit?

God, this was such a painfully awkward situation and he seemed to have fun cornering you like this.

Screw it. You were done with whatever this was.

You nodded slowly, your cheeks still flushed deep pink. “I don’t, thanks. And I feel like we shouldn’t waste any more time and get back to the project.”

Something strange flashed across his face—a mix of disappointment and irritation as if he had enjoyed this back and forth—but he just shrugged. “Back at being a nerd.”

Wow. Okay. Seriously, what the actual fuck was going on inside Rafe Cameron’s head?

Trying to suppress a frown, you leaned toward the side of the couch and pulled your iPad from your bag, tucking your legs up into a comfortable position as you opened yesterday’s notes.

The air felt heavy with a strange tension. Not like yesterday, when you’d had your first real conversation with him. Not like earlier either, when he was pissed off at you mentioning his dad in a conversation. No, this was something else entirely—some kind of irritated restlessness on both sides.

Your heart pounded uneasily in your chest, and you hated that you couldn’t just address whatever this was. If it even was anything.

So, you did what you always did when things started feeling like too much—you disconnected from the situation entirely and focused on the task at hand. Skimming over your notes, you cleared your throat and read out your last update. “Okay, so…” -----------------------------------------------

You washed your hands, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

What am I even doing here?

This was so stupid. You should’ve insisted on rescheduling this whole thing—it would’ve been so much easier.

Grabbing the towel from the rack, you dried your hands and took a deep breath. Screw whatever all of this was—why he’d invited you here, why he’d asked all those weird-ass questions. You just needed to focus on the project.

Art was the only subject you were actually kind of good at and there was no way you were going to mess it up just because your brain was spiraling over this surreal, out-of-nowhere situation.

But as you walked back down the hallway toward the living room, you were hit with another curveball.

Is this guy SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!

There he was, sitting on the couch, your iPad resting on his lap, your Apple Pencil in his hand as his eyes stared at the screen.

Never mind that he looked CUTE AS HELL doing it—he couldn’t just scroll through your sketches like that. THAT WAS AN UNSPOKEN RULE. What if he found your studies of—NOPE.

“What are you doing?”

Rafe looked up, completely unbothered. Before he could even answer, you were already sitting down next to him, hand reaching for your iPad.

And then you saw it.

He wasn’t flipping through your gallery—he was just writing something in the Notes app.

Your face instantly flushed hot. “Oh,” you mumbled, pulling your hand back quickly—only to accidentally brush against the fabric of his jeans.

AKA HIS THIGH.

It was over. Your life was over. Done. Finished. The end. You were officially dead in every language known to man.

The heat in your face burned hotter as your pulse skyrocketed, embarrassment filling every cell in your body.

And his face? Big blue eyes staring at you half-surprised while his lips slowly turned into a crooked smile.

UGHHHH, OH MY GOD.

A sheepish-awkward smile crept across your lips. “Oh, I—oh my God, I’m so sorry, I… I thought you were scrolling through my gallery.”

Brilliant. Truly a top-tier diversion. AS ALWAYS.

Please, please, please, for the love of everything holy, don’t mention the fact that I just touched your leg. PLEASE.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, more amused than irritated. “Why, what would I find? Nudes?”

I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE.

“What? No! I don’t—gallery, I meant my art gallery!” you shot back quickly, your voice a pitch higher than usual as the heat rushed back into your face.

And then, as your gaze flicked to the striking details of his annoyingly pretty eyes, it hit you just how close you were to him.

Too fucking close.

Your overly dramatic attempt to snatch the iPad from him had somehow left your whole body turned toward his, with barely four inches separating you.

Every instinct screamed at you to throw yourself onto the other end of the couch, grab your bag, and leave this house as fast as humanly possible. Move toward another state and start a new life.

But you couldn’t move. It was like you were frozen, completely anchored in place. Because choosing to put space between you now? That would just highlight how ridiculously awkward this whole situation had become.

You felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, unable to move.

And Rafe’s eyes? They were the headlights. He stared at you, his expression teetering somewhere between playful curiosity and deliberation, like he was trying to decide whether to swerve or just run you over.

“Jesus Christ, calm down,” he finally said, a cocky laugh slipping past his lips as he clicked the Apple Pencil back into the iPad case. “I didn’t look at your top-secret drawing gallery. Happy?”

And even if he had looked, would he even admit it? Probably not.

Still, a tiny part of you relaxed. Perfect—now only 99% of you were stuck in full fight-or-flight mode.

“Thanks,” you managed to mumble, taking the iPad from him with painstaking care to avoid even accidentally brushing against him again. That would definitely be the end of you.

Finally seizing the opportunity, you scooted a little further away—not as far as before but just enough to calm your heart rate without making it seem like you were actively trying to escape.

The last thing you wanted was to look like a total creep.

Even though the situation had been painfully awkward, somehow, it had managed to break that weird, unspoken tension that had been hanging between you two entirely.

You had just looked up, ready to comment on the one (1) completely useless bullet point he’d added when he beat you to it. "We should go to my place tomorrow evening. Maybe you’ll relax a little for once”, he said with a teasing yet somehow serious undertone.

...

...

WAIT. WHAT? THIS WAS COMING OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE WHAT?!

You must’ve misheard him. No way. This was too crazy, too fucking surreal to be real. Surely he was messing with you. Yeah, that had to be it.

Your brows furrowed slightly. "Your place?" Good. That was good. This way, you could at least make sure he wasn’t being serious.

Rafe scoffed, amused. "Yeah, unless you’d rather go back to working at school like a real nerd."

HE WAS SERIOUS.

Okay, hold on. But WHY AT EVENING? Evenings were basically the second most intimate time of day, right after actual nighttime. And his whole family would be home—no, absolutely not. That was insane. Way too much, too soon.

There was no way you’d 'relax' there.

You let out a nervous laugh, avoiding his gaze. "I don’t know… your parents—" You hesitated, remembering Rose wasn’t actually his mom. "I mean, your family probably wants their space."

Oh god. You could already feel the shift in his mood—subtle, but definitely there.

But Rafe just shook his head, completely unfazed. "My dad and Rose are at some charity event. Wheezie’s on a school trip this week, and Sarah can do whatever she wants, I don't care."

OH.

That—that changed everything. Shit, no, that changed THE ENTIRE FUCKING SITUATION YOU WERE IN.

An empty house, almost nighttime, and he wanted you to come over just after two days of getting to know each other? Holy shit, every alarm bell in your head was ringing.

Sure, you were inexperienced when it came to dating (NOT that this situation was anything close to being labeled as dating). And yes, you had no clue how to flirt. Plus, the entire concept of the male species lowkey terrified you and you were terrible at picking up hints.

But even you knew what this meant.

You’d heard enough of Cara’s stories, read enough shitty fanfiction, watched enough trashy movies and TV shows, and—unintentionally—overheard enough (deeply uncomfortable) conversations between drunk, horny teenagers at parties to recognize exactly what was happening here:

Rafe Cameron was setting the ground for a hookup.

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kms masterlist | <- part four | part six ->

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Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @vvmaybank @ltristessedureratoujours @mia-iltc