Rafe Cameron Fluff - Blog Posts

✨”She did what?”✨

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This is my first ever story!!! I am so happy to start writing and giving you guys content, so if you have any recommendations or questions please don’t hesitate to ask away. I love hearing your thoughts and feedback!!! Hope you guys had a happy new year 🩷

wisdom teeth

words: 1.1k

warnings: dentist, blood

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“ma’am?” the voice rings through the waiting area. your head shoots up, realizing that she must be talking to you.

“hi, how is he?” you question, slinging your purse over your shoulder and pocketing your phone.

“the procedure went completely fine. we are trying to place the gauze in his mouth now but he keeps insisting on seeing you.” the receptionist says, a slight blush to her cheeks.

“oh!” you say, eyebrows raising. 

“follow me, please.” she says, leading you back further into the building.

“he’s being quite rowdy, isn’t he?” you ask, able to hear through the shut door the incessant questions, asking where you are, asking why you aren’t with him.

“some patient react differently to the anesthesia. it’s nothing we haven’t seen before, so don’t be embarrassed, doll.” the receptionist assures you, opening the door and letting you into the post op room.

“baby! there’s my baby!” rafe says, his hair a mess over his forehead, blood dry and crusted on his chin.

“hey, rafey.” you say calmly, hoping your relaxed attitude will influence him to calm down. “i’m right here, honey.”

you cross to his bed, glancing briefly at the dental assistants, one who looks annoyed that their clean up is taking so long, but the other gives you a sweet smile.

“you’re so pretty.” rafe slurs. “i love you.”

“i love you too, honey.” you coo, taking his hand, still slightly limp, in yours. “you have to let the nice women help you though. they’re here to clean you up for me.”

“you gonna kiss me when im all clean?” rafe asks, his lower lip pouting out.

you nod. “gently though, baby.”

“what did they do to me?” rafe questions, now sitting still as the nurses wipe away the blood on his chin.

“they just took your wisdom teeth out. they were hurting you but you’ll feel all better now.” you explain softly, petting his hand and arm to calm him as the nurses continue to rub at the dried mess.

“open your mouth.” the mean looking nurse says, her voice too stern for your liking, but before you can speak up, rafe turns to her, a look of fury in his eyes.

“i will not open my mouth for you. i only do what my baby tells me to do, so fuck off.” “rafe, oh my god!” you shout as the sweet nurse cracks up. “watch your language.” “i’m sorry, but this girl was trying to flirt with me! she wanted me to open my mouth for her, can you believe that?” rafe asks, his eyes flickering between looking softly at you and glaring at the assistant.

“they just want to put some gauze in your mouth. open up and let them, sweetie.” “fine.” rafe hums, his brow scrunched together as he turns back to the nurse. “i will because my baby asked me to, not for you.”

you shake your head but smile when rafe opens his mouth, allowing them to finish cleaning up. you stay next to his bed, holding his hand firmly in yours.

“can i be alone with my baby now?” he asks them as the nice assistant tells rafe he can close his mouth now.

“we recommend waiting at least a half hour until the anesthesia wears off a bit more before trying to get him out to the car. we can leave you two in here, but try not to let him talk too much, it’s only going to cause his mouth to bleed more.” “that’ll be hard, but i’ll try. thank you.” you nod to them as they leave the room.

“rafey, be quiet for me, okay baby?” you tell him, sitting down on the side of the bed, stroking your hand through his hair to smooth it out over his forehead, back in its proper place on either side of his part.

“but i want to tell you how beautiful you are and how much i love you and how much i wanna marry you one day and how much i lov-” “thank you, rafe.” you cut him off. “you can tell me all that real soon, but for now you have to be quiet so your mouth can heal, mmkay?”

“fine, i’ll stop talking. but you did promise me a kiss.” rafe says, and then dramatically shuts his mouth before puckering his lips.

“a gentle one.” you remind him, leaning forward and pressing your lips as softly as you can against his, putting your hands on his chest to stop rafe from leaning forward and deepening the kiss.

you pull away, but before rafe can open his mouth to complain, you kiss along his cheeks, then forehead, covering his face in soft presses of your lips to keep him happy and calm.

you tuck your chin into the crook between his shoulder and neck, stroking your hand over his chest as you cuddle up to him. “i’ll talk to you to keep you entertained, yeah?” rafe nods, nuzzling into your hair. you begin to whisper stories into his ear, anything you can remember to pass the time. tales your mother told you when you were little, or recapping movies that you’ve watched enough times to remember the plot clearly.

theres a knock on the door as you straighten up, calling out for the assistant to come in. she enters the room with a wheelchair. “time to go!” “yes.” rafe says, pumping his fist in excitement. “did you here that baby? its time to go.”

“i did, rafey. remember we are supposed to be quiet though.”

“thats right.” rafe nods. “im letting my mouth heal.”

the nurse laughs gently, wheeling the chair towards the bed. rafe is able to get into it pretty much without your help, but sends the assistant a glare when she tries to push the wheelchair.

“you’re gonna take me someplace without my baby again?”

“no, honey, she’s just helping us get to the car. and then i’m gonna take you home.” you explain softly, moving to walk ahead of the wheelchair so rafe can keep you in his sight.

“we live together?” rafe asks as you help him into the passenger side seat of the car.

“we do.” you remind him, taking the buckle and strapping it across his chest. you thank the assistant, who tells you again what rafe can and can’t do over the next 24 hours, before bidding you both farewell. 

you carefully shut rafes door before rounding the other side of the car. you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek before putting the car into drive, thankful that its a short way home so you can get rafe laying and relaxing again soon.

you click the radio on, but rafe frowns and shuts it off. 

“whats wrong baby?” you question. “don’t want to listen to music?” “no.” rafe shakes his head, an adorable pout on his lips. “i want to hear more of your stories.”

you let out a soft laugh before conceding. “of course baby.”

Drunk Love

Summary: You get too drunk and your boyfriend Rafe has to take care of you. Fluff, fluff, fluff.

You stumbled through the door, heels in your hand, trying to steady yourself against the wall. You leaned back, watching Rafe walk in after you, steady stride showing the marked difference in your tolerance levels. Hadn’t you had the same amount to drink?

His shoe scuffed slightly against the floor and you let out a loud, harsh “Shh” in the darkness, making his face whip up to yours incredulously.

“Me shh? You shh! You just woke the whole neighbourhood trying to get your key in the door.” he argued back, his voice an actual whisper compared to your stage whisper.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your heels to the floor, ignoring Rafe’s desperate scramble to catch them before they hit the cold marble and woke up his deaf neighbour four streets away.

He’d just placed them gently down when he heard the glasses clattering in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ,” he shot back up and started towards you, taking the glass out your hand right as you were about to fill it with your dads favourite whiskey.

“Hey!”

“I think you’ve had enough tonight, baby. Let me take you to bed, okay?” Rafe was still whispering, voice soft like he was trying to coax a scared animal.

You raised an eyebrow and giggled.

“To bed? My, my, Cameron, you haven’t even bought me dinner.”

He grabbed your elbow gently, leading you towards the stairs.

“I’ve bought you like a thousand dinners, and right now we are going to go to bed to sleep. Okay? Sleepy time.”

“Boring,” you sang, wondering if the hallway had always been this blurry.

He managed to get you into your room without waking anyone, depositing you on your bed before gathering you clothes to change into and grabbing your make-up remover. He came back into the room to see you twisting your arms around your back, trying to grab at your bra.

“See, not so easy when you’re drunk, is it?” He joked, laughing at how your head whipped around to his, puppy dog eyes trained on him.

“Please help me.”

He set your stuff down next to you before coming over and helping you change.

“Arms up,” he pulled your dress over you head, unhooked your bra with ease like he’d done a thousand times and slid your clean clothes on.

You sighed happily, thanking him, before lying down and snuggling your face into the covers.

“Woah, hey, no, no, sit up. Come on,” he ignored your grumbling to pull you back up. “Baby, you’d kill me if I let you sleep in make-up.”

You groaned unhappily but stayed seated while he wiped your face for you, flinching at the cold.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes staring at his face as he concentrated, and it struck you in that moment how lucky you’d gotten. You leaned forward to kiss him, pouting when he leaned away.

“Hey, no, baby let me do this, okay, I’m gonna take an eye out here if you don’t stay still,” he muttered, rubbing at your eyeliner.

After another few minutes, he pulled away.

“All done. You can sleep now, you big baby.”

“Can I have a kiss first?” you mumbled, feeling sleep start to overtake you.

He rolled his eyes, smiling at you softly before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on your lips, your cheeks, your forehead.

“Mmm. Perfect. Okay. I’m going to sleep now.” You flopped back down, pulling the covers over your head, and Rafe laughed before standing to get himself ready for bed, pulling his shirt off.

“Wait!” You gasped, head shooting back up, causing Rafe’s heart to jump out of his throat, turning to you in panic.

“What?!”

“I forgot to say I love you.”

He sighed, hand on his chest, trying to calm the pounding.

“Jesus, baby, you’re gonna kill me one day.”

“Sorry! I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go to sleep, you mess.”

He watched you settle back down, asleep within seconds, mouth slightly open and a light snore seeping through, and he thought you’d never looked so damn beautiful.

red lipstick | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x female reader

| genre: fluff, college rafe, halloween fic

| content warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of food, a few tears

| précis: you get your boyfriend to dress up with you.

| word count: 1,512

You could barely believe it yourself when your boyfriend agreed to coordinate costumes with you.

Well, scratch that—you could believe it, but it was the particular costume you’d chosen that he agreed to—that shocked you.

Keep reading

like i would | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x female reader

| genre: fluff, boyfriend rafe, rafe calls his gf baby like 100 times

| content warnings: mentions of being sick, tears lol, mentions of food

| précis: your boyfriend takes care of you while you’re under the weather.

| word count: 1,184

| a/n: im sick rn so posting this from my drafts

The first thing Rafe notices when he gets home is silence. If you’re home before him (which he knows you are today), you usually call out a greeting from wherever you are, to let him know that you’re there.

So, when he calls out your name and gets nothing in response, it’s safe to say he’s a little worried. He slowly walks to  the bedroom, where he, insert relieved sigh, finds you curled up underneath the comforter.

Keep reading

I also love your kook group x reader! Can you do one where rafe x reader start secretly dating and topper and kelce find out?

more than friends | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x reader, platonic topper thornton x reader, platonic kelce x reader

| genre: fluff, college au, kook friend group

| warnings: language, mentions of food

| word count: 1,286

You weren’t even sure when the feelings had started. You and Rafe had always been a little flirty with each other. You used to blame it on the fact that he was the newest addition to your friend group, not already used to the sibling-like dynamic that you shared with Topper and Kelce.

Nothing actually happened for years, other than the casual flirting that never went unnoticed by the other boys. It was one night, when the four of you were back home for the summer. You all attended the same university on the mainland, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t spend every waking second with each other over the summer. Topper was out to dinner with his parents, and Kelce was stuck babysitting his little sister. Rafe had invited all of you over to watch movies in his basement, the massive flat screen and reclining chairs making it the perfect spot for your movie nights.

The tension between the two of you was so heavy you could feel it crackling in the air. You spent a painful thirty minutes watching Jaws, retaining absolutely nothing because all you could focus on was the boy sitting next to you.

And suddenly, movie forgotten, your lips were on Rafe’s as you were climbing over the armrest to straddle his lap.

The two of you had agreed on two things: One—that it wasn’t just a one-time thing and two—that you couldn’t tell Kelce and Topper. You honestly didn’t think they would have a problem with it, but you weren’t ready to face the constant teasing that would surely ensue once you tell them.

Fast forward, you and Rafe had been keeping your relationship a secret for a few months now, a little easier now that you were back on campus and had more spots you could meet and not run into your friends.

Kelce and Topper weren’t stupid though. They had an inkling that something might be going on between the two of you, but they couldn’t prove it. Lingering touches, and gazes when you thought no one was paying attention, had helped to guide them in their suspicions.

“Your door’s locked right?” You whisper, cuddling against your boyfriend.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Rafe, Topper, and Kelce shared an apartment, and the boys often barged into each other’s rooms without a second thought, so a locked door was crucial to your not getting caught.

Almost as if you predicted it, a fist bangs on the door, less than a moment later, a loud shout of Rafe’s name reverberating in the room.

“Fuck do you want Top?” Rafe calls, sending you an apologetic smile.

“Kelce and I are bored. I think we’re gonna go to that bar down the street. You wanna come?”

Normally Rafe can never turn down an offer to go to a bar or party, and drink with his friends. But right now, you’re in his bed and he cares way more about that.

“Not tonight man, I think I’m gonna nap, I’m not feeling great.”

“Okay.” Topper responds, heading into the kitchen where Kelce is. “Let’s see what ____’s up to.”

“I already texted her.” Kelce pipes up. “She said she’s busy.”

Topper sighs. “Alright guess it’s just us then.”

Rafe wants to tell Topper and Kelce about your relationship. From day one, he was fine with it being out in the open. He claims that they like you too and they need to know you’re taken, but you don’t want to ruin your friend group dynamics.

“They’re gonna make fun of us!” You whine against his chest, pulling his duvet over your head.

“They already do!” He chuckles, chest rumbling under your head. “And baby, you’re the meanest out of all of us. They’re gonna be too scared to make fun of you.”

“No, I’m not.” You pout, poking his chin.

“Hm, you kinda are.” He hums, straining his neck to kiss the tip of your nose. “Remember when you made Topper cry during basketball?”

“I was twelve, Rafe,” You groan. “And he didn’t catch the ball.”

“And you yelled at him at recess, I know, I remember all of it.” He can’t stop the laughter that tumbles from his lips. “I wouldn’t mess with you mamas.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You pout, shoving at his shoulder.

bro

can we get ice cream when ur done w class

i’ll buy

rafael (affectionate): bro

rafael (affectionate): yes we can

rafael (affectionate): ur not buying tho

fuck u

yes i am

As soon as Rafe is done with class, he texts you, and the two of you meet at your favorite spot for ice cream. Rafe grabs the corner booth while you go up to order both of your favorites. He’d shoved his wallet in your hand before letting you go up, but it’s at the bottom of your purse now—your card already in your hand.

Once you have both ice cream orders, you walk to the table, a smug smile on your face. Instead of taking the seat across from him, you slide into the booth he’s in, nuzzling up against his side.

“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before starting on his ice cream. You rest your head on his shoulder while he tells you something that happened in his chem lab that day.

Eventually, the bell above the door dings, catching your attention. Save for you and Rafe, it’s been empty, and you’re a little curious.

Familiar voices fill your ears and you’re putting it together, the wide-eyed look on Rafe’s face being the final piece of the puzzle.

Kelce and Topper. Fuck.

“What the fuck?” Kelce mumbles, meeting your gaze.

“Hey guys,” You cough out, waving awkwardly.

“Y’all were hanging out without us?” Topper asks sadly.

“No Top, ya fucking idiot.” Kelce sighs, running his hand over his face. “They’re together. Like dating.”

“Well, I—” You pipe up, in attempt to cover yourself.

Kelce raises an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

You drop your head. “No.”

Kelce sighs, dropping into the booth.

“Are you mad?” Rafe wonders.

“No.” Kelce shakes his head. “Y’all are my best friends and I want you to be happy.” He looks at Topper who nods in agreement. “However, I have a couple of ground rules.”

“Rules? Kelce you’re not my dad, you can’t—”

“Hush,” He scolds. “As I was saying, no sex while we’re in the house—”

“Uhh,” Rafe chokes out, cheeks blooming bright red.

“Shut up.” You hiss, elbowing his side lightly.

“Ew, what the fuck?” Topper complains.

“And if Rafe hurts ____, we’re kicking his ass.”

“What?” Rafe exclaims. “You really think I’ll hurt her? We’ve all been friends forever, I’m not gonna—”

“Rafe.” This time it’s Topper who cuts him off. “I don’t give a literal shit that we’re all friends, if you break her heart, we’ll drop you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“Jesus.” You mutter under your breath.

“Understand?” Kelce asks.

“Yes.” Rafe answers.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

A bout of laughter spills from your lips before you can stop it. “Come on Kelce, that’s enough. Now both of you, get the fuck out of here.”

Topper grins sheepishly, sliding out of the booth, Kelce right behind him.

“Remember what we said.” Kelce says, smiling, despite his serious words. He grabs your cup of ice cream, scooping some into his mouth before he and Topper exit the store.

“Fucking idiots.” You groan, leaning your head back against the seat.

“Hey, at least I don’t have to do this in secret anymore.”

“Do what?”

“C’mere.” And then his lips are on yours.

haven’t read it yet but I’ll be back!

as it will be - rafe cameron

You can find my other work here!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Soulmate! Reader

Warnings: tattoos, slight suggestive content, just overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 3.1K

Synopsis: You’ve had a tattoo on your wrist since you could remember, one that is supposed to match your soulmates’. With an ever evolving tattoo, you question the validity of such a system. That is until you meet Rafe. You meet Rafe Cameron in the library and he suggests you both glimpse at your possible futures together.

a/n: this was inspired by the story The Way We Love Here by Dhonielle Clayton in the book Meet Cute: Some People are Destined to Meet, and this is love by baby-bearie!

—

Finals week always feels particularly stressful, especially to you as you walk into the library. Just locating a table causes you to overthink, which random person will hate you the least if you sit next to them? With lots of thought you finally select a table already occupied by a golden haired boy. As you scoot out the chair diagonal from the boy you make eye contact. You subconsciously trace the set of lines on your wrist, your cheeks heating up at the soft grin he sends you. Something about him already feels so familiar, as if you have known each other for longer than three seconds. 

“Hey,” he whispers across the table to you as you take a seat. Your eyes find his brilliant blue ones before his eyes drift to your wrist, “nice tattoo.”

You glance down at your wrist before replying in a hushed voice, “thanks… I mean, it’s all natural.” You tease, a smile slipping onto your lips. You’re normally much more reserved with strangers but something about this boy makes you speak as though you’re friends. 

He chuckles, tugging down the arm of his sweatshirt. He holds up his left wrist, the same side as yours, which displays the same tattoo as you. “I know what you mean,” he shares, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Your eyes trace the abstract pattern, a mess of lines that progress over your lifetimes. A flutter of something erupts in your chest, this boy could be your soulmate. You’ve dreamed of who they would be since the very idea was introduced to you in school. “Wow,” you exhale, “I’ve never met someone with the same pattern as me before.”

He nods his head in agreement, “Well in that case, nice to meet you, I’m Rafe Cameron.”

You smile, “And I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n,” Rafe repeats, “It appears this is the start of something new." 

It is now your turn to nod your head, feeling a sense of urgency suddenly. You dig through your backpack, pulling out what you originally came to the library to do, "I hope so, but as of right now it needs to wait. I can’t afford to fail any classes." 

He chuckles, glancing over the multitude of books you pull out of your bag. "I can see that,” he plays, dropping his head back to his own book. You don’t catch the way his cheeks light up pink. 

Blushing, you whine, “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?" 

He shakes his head, looking up through the hair that has flopped over his forehead. 

You lean forward on your elbows, wanting to run your fingers through his hair. Your gut flips when he sends you an impossibly charming grin, "You know I’m just messing with you. What about we take a break in an hour, I’ll leave you alone till then." 

You nod your head, excitement bubbling through you, "Sounds good!" 

—

It is exactly 59 minutes later when your train of thought is interrupted, a excited tone to Rafe’s otherwise quiet voice "Have you ever looked at someone and thought about your possible futures?" 

You blink a few times, lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you. You know exactly what Rafe means once you process his question. There has long been a fairytale that touching matching tattoos together reveals your possibilities with the other person. 

You think back to the obsession of your childhood, finding all of the fables of soulmates. Your parents only found their tattoos to not match when you showed up, flushed cheeks and a head of hair, weighing 6 pounds 4 ounces. "I guess when I was a kid,” you answer, leaving the sob story out of the conversation. If this boy really is your soulmate he’ll be around long enough to hear it. 

Rafe seems more bouncy than an hour ago, his left hand twirling around an orange highlighter in the air. The boy seems to radiate energy, shifting forward in his chair, “What happened to that spirit?" 

You hesitate before rambling out, "You know, life happens. I got older and read more and more about soulmates who didn’t work out or about people born without tattoos. It made me question who or what decides these marks and how much they define everyone’s lives. What makes us more worthy of love than anyone else?" 

Rafe pauses, sucking in a sharp breath, he had never thought of life in such a way. "Maybe different people have different life plans, people who aren’t interested in romantic relationships exist. I don’t think anyone is more worthy of love, just different love." 

"I can’t help but feel that it’s just too imperfect for it to be true, you know?” You glance down at your book, rereading the same sentence you had been stuck on earlier. Your literature class somehow managed to mirror real life. 

Rafe’s wrist adorned with the tattoo plops into your vision, “What would you say if I proposed a deep dive into the inner-workings of soulmates?" 

You lift your gaze, eyes landing on the suddenly still Rafe. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is hope. "What if it doesn’t work?" 

"What if it does? There is only one way to know.” His eyebrows knit together, “What is there to lose?" 

You sigh, placing your own patterned wrist atop his, squeezing your eyes shut. Nothing seems to happen, you are highly aware of the warmth of Rafe’s hand latching onto your wrist. His cool ring contrasts the warmth of his fingers, pulling you back into the reality of the situation. 

You peek your eyes open, catching the lazy grin on Rafe’s lips, his eyes closed. You open your mouth to call him back, realizing the library is where you’ve stayed, only to close it when your surroundings blur. 

Your stomach churns, you’re easily phased by motion, cars, boats, and planes, making your palms sweat. You squeeze your eyes shut again, giving in to the swirling motion you both seem to be traveling in. 

—

You seem to wake up, reality, or whatever this is, hitting you. You sit on your surfboard, the one you left in California with your grandparents. The familiar scent of the ocean washes over you, the feeling of home rapidly trails behind. 

You kick your feet under the board, looking down at the white wetsuit you don’t recognize. If you had ended up here any other way you would have enjoyed the moment, instead you can’t help but question why. 

Where is the boy who had this idea in the first place? You glance around as much as you can, observing your fellow surfers. As you paddle, turning back towards the beach a tug pulls in your stomach. You paddle towards the beach where you feel you need to be. 

Your eyes are finally met with the now familiar face when your feet touch the sand. Standing on one of your favorite California beaches, Rafe toys with a film camera around his neck. 

"I was looking for you,” he greets you, stepping towards the waves. 

You tuck the board under your arm, jogging up to Rafe, “Me too.” You meet where waves barely brush your  ankles, smooth sand between your toes. 

Rafe glances you up and down. Something you would normally detest. And yet you don’t feel the need to hit him. Something about the way Rafe is holding your phone makes you suspect you’re there together. 

“You know how to surf? That’s so cool,” Rafe steps forward, his shoulder brushing your board. His eyes meet yours, a blush spreads across your cheeks as you toy with a loop on your wetsuit. 

“My grandparents taught me when I lived with them in middle school,” you respond then look around, “This feels like home, does it to you too?" 

"I didn’t want to make it weird but yeah, I’ve always liked California but I have never felt like this.” He thinks for a minute, glancing down at his left hand. 

No ring sits on his ring finger, something which makes you question what you want. Why did an air of disappointment bubble up in your chest? “We live here,” You share as the realization dawns on you, “And I’ve been waiting for you to propose for a while now." 

Rafe pauses, gaze shifting slightly above you. As his eyes land back on you he tucks the items in his hands into his pockets, coming up with a box instead. "That’s what I was going to do today, I just have bad timing apparently." 

You giggle, "If I wasn’t wet and you didn’t have a camera I would hug you right now." 

"Wet?” Rafe teases in a tone you know you’ll come to love, a smirk playing across his lips. 

Once again you are left to wonder the power this boy already holds over you. If he were any other boy that comment would have earned him a scowl. Instead, you lightly smack his forearm and quip, “way to ruin the moment." 

Rafe slings the camera around to his back. You watch his eyes crinkle as he grins at you, stepping closer as the world begins to spin once again. His arms wrap around your waist, your arms slipping around his upper shoulders. "Bye,” he whispers in your ear. You smile, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation of time slipping by. 

—

When you open your eyes this time you aren’t feeling as comfortable. Instead of the warmth of the beach, you are met with snow, large chunks falling down before you. You peer out the window, taking in the expanse of white contrasted by a mountain range you don’t recognize. 

Twirling around, you nearly trip over the heavy amount of clothes you are wearing, a long white dress. Today must be your wedding day. 

The door behind you creaks open, someone enters with a limp. The step followed by a heavier one keys you in to who exactly is here. 

“Papa,” you greet, turning towards the door, smiling at the man who raised you. 

He grins at you, taking in the expanse of your dress, “Are you ready?” He questions, “I’m sure you’ve been anxious out of your mind today, ready to take the final step and become Mrs. Woods?" 

You inhale sharply, "Woods?” Rafe’s last name isn’t Woods, where is the boy who you have quickly become attached to in these timelines? 

Your grandpa looks at you, forehead wrinkling as he raises his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

You only realize your hand is squeezing your wrist when you look down, freeing it to take a look at the pattern. The mess of lines you had in the library looks starkly different now, a progression of time. You return your eyes to your grandpa, dwelling on the slight sense of comfort he provides, “What about Rafe?" 

"Rafe? You know what happened better than I do, soulmates sometimes don’t work out I guess.” Papa smiles a remorseful smile, his gaze shifting to the snowy landscape. 

You follow his gaze, eyes darting across the cold. If you still feel love for him why didn’t you work out? Why is one of your possible futures a failed romance? 

“I’m ready,” you state, wanting to see who you are set to marry. How does this man compare to Rafe?

Taking your left hand in some sort of formal gesture, Papa guides you to the door he came in. You grab the last bouquet by the door when two helpers open the doors. In front of you is a giant, traditional wedding. You never wanted to have an indoor wedding, your love for nature prevented it.

You both walk down the aisle at an agonizingly slow rate, giving you time to look at each of the guests. Most of your family members take up the right side of the chapel. On the left, plenty of faces who appear to recognize you. Once you reach the stairs up to the wedding party Papa squeezes your hand then drops it, taking his seat in the front. 

Anticipation pulls your gaze up as you take the final few steps. First to the man you are set to marry, the name Seth comes to your mind, then to your bridesmaids. Your best friend steps forward, taking the bouquet from your hand and giving you a smile. As you stop across from your groom, your eyes land on his groomsmen. There, standing in a tux, is Rafe who sends you a sad smile when your eyes finally find him. 

You stumble, tripping over your dress slightly, Seth’s left hand shoots out to catch you. His sleeve rides up, revealing a tattoo vastly different from yours. You know deep down that this timeline doesn’t work out, how could you go and say yes to a proposal if you felt hope for you and Rafe? The simple answer is you couldn’t. 

As Seth takes both your hands in his own, the world slowly begins to tumble. Wanting this timeline to be over as soon as possible, you squeeze your eyes shut. You wait patiently for the next world, hopefully happier this time. 

—

When your senses come back to you, you realize you’re laying on a bed somewhere familiar. A warm weight on your chest and a calm sense of life. You quickly realize who the weight belongs to, Rafe, as you thread your fingers through his hair. You breathe in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to stay here forever. 

Rafe seems to take a little longer waking up but when he does, you jump. His head picks up quickly, landing on you before both of his arms wrap around your waist, “Oh thank the gods,” he remarks. His head lands right in the middle of your chest as you giggle, arms wrapping around him also. 

You grin, butterflies dancing in your stomach. You quickly forget how the last timeline felt, taking in the love in this one. In the pit of your stomach guilt sits, you caused the timeline where it didn’t work out. “Rafe?” You question with an uneasy tone prompting his head to pick back up. 

He hums, urging you to go on. Eyebrows pulled together, his thumb traces the skin of your waist. You feel some comfort over the way he traces a circle in your skin, warm hands on you. 

“I’m sorry for marrying someone else, I don’t even understand what happened." 

Rafe smiles softly, "Did you still love me? Cause I still loved you, a lot actually." 

You nod your head, smiling. "I just wish we knew what went wrong, you know, I don’t want that to be our timeline.” 

"Good,” he then adds, “And I don’t think it will. As long as we love each other I think any situation can be resolved with enough work. I think people rely too much on being soulmates when all relationships require work.” Rafe shifts, sitting back onto his lower legs. You shiver at the loss of contact, already craving the warmth and comfort of Rafe’s touch. 

You frown at him, crossing your arms to retain some heat, “It’s cold now.” The cold metal feeling of a ring pauses your thoughts as you look at your left hand. Wedding bands sit on your ring finger, matching the one on Rafe’s left hand. You hold up your hand towards him, “We’re married!" 

Rafe’s eyes trace your rings, smiling, he glances to his own hand, "I wouldn’t expect anything less." 

You blush, sitting up some on the couch. Life like this feels sweet to you. 

He chuckles, picking up your legs at the end of the couch. Rafe takes a seat then pats his lap, "I wanna see you." 

You blush once again under his gaze. Sitting on his lap you feel the need to fill the silence. As his thumb traces circles on your waist again, you whisper, "Hi." 

"Hey,” he whispers back, much like his first greeting to you in the library. His eyes leave yours, bouncing to your lips then back, “Can I have a kiss?”

Your stomach flutters at the gentle question, leaning forward as you hum in confirmation. Your lips meet in a soft kiss that quickly sucks you in. Melting at Rafe’s hand which guides your chin slightly higher before cupping your cheek. 

Your hands tangle in Rafe’s hair, pulling slightly on the golden strands. You enjoy the moment and the warmth of his hands pulling you closer. As you pull back slightly to breathe, noses on each other, the world begins to spin again. 

Rafe pulls you closer and whispers, “This is my favorite one yet." 

"Me too,” you agree, pecking his lips before you are both transported somewhere else. 

— 

This time you recognize your surroundings, the library. Your wrists are still touching, it appears not even a minute has passed. You look up at Rafe, grinning when you find his eyes already on you. 

“So,” he whispers, leaning in, “would you say that was a good idea?" 

You look down at your wrists, flipping your hand over to find a new detail. After months of tracing the same pattern over and over you are quick to notice the detail. You scan Rafe’s wrist, finding the same wavy line. "Look,” you trace the new line on his wrist, “Both our patterns have expanded in the same way." 

He shivers at your cold finger, making you smile knowingly at him. His eyes trace the new line on both of your wrists, "We’ve already gained something.” His right hand comes over and squeezes yours in a comforting way. 

You nod your head, realizing the time. The setting sun behind the mountains lights up the library in orange and pink colors. You much prefer this scene out the windows to the snowy one. Turning your attention back to the boy in front of you, you suggest, “why don’t we go get dinner, you can continue to establish what a good idea this was then?”

Rafe nods his head in excitement, pulling his hands away to pack up all of his stuff. You do the same, standing and pulling your backpack on, you wait for him. Once he finishes, he takes your hand and you both walk out into the warmth of the setting sun. Not knowing which timeline you will end up in but both confident it will work out.

—

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