Nov 1st, you wake up very late the morning after halloween, light streaming through the gauzy pink curtains of the guest house you and Rafe have been staying in for the week. Your head still hums faintly from last night’s party, that blur of champagne, gaudy glitter, slutty costumes, fake blood, and lots of laughter. You stretch yourself on the chaise you crashed on after your shower, the satin robe slipping open a little over your chest as you yawn. The house is quiet. Way too quiet.
You glance at the clock, fuck it's nearly noon, and realize Rafe still hasn’t woke up. You smile to yourself, remembering how drunk he’d been when you got home, swaggering around the kitchen with a pillowcase full of candy like a proud kid on halloween night. He’d refused to let you take it away from him. “My treasure,” he’d slurred, clutching it to his chest, stumbling off to his old bedroom with a crooked grin. You’d let him go, shaking your head, assuming he’d pass out in five minutes.
But now, the silence feels suspicious. You stand, tying your robe loosely, padding barefoot down the hall. The air smells faintly of sugar and booze, that stale, sticky mix that clings to the covered walls. You push open his door and stop in the doorway, the sight so absurd you can’t help but laugh.
Rafe was asleep across the bed with one arm flung over his face snoring loudly. The sheets were a disaster—candy wrappers everywhere, a half-empty bottle of whiskey tipped over near the nightstand, chocolate smudges on the pillowcase, and the once-full bag of halloween candy scattered like confetti.
“Oh my gosh,” you whisper, biting your lip to stop the giggle bubbling up. You step closer, taking in the mess. Candy bars, empty bottles, maybe twenty fun-size wrappers, and one completely decimated caramel apple lollipop stuck to his chest. His abs glisten faintly where the sugar’s melted against skin.
You shake your head, laughing under your breath. “You're crazy, oh my gosh.”
He groans softly, rolling over onto his side, one eye cracking open. His voice comes out hoarse. “Angel?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” you say, crossing the room to perch on the edge of the bed. “You alive?”
He blinks at you, squinting, clearly trying to piece together where he is and what happened. “Why does my tongue feel like sandpaper?”
“Maybe because you ate your weight in candy and chased it with whiskey,” you tease, brushing his hair off his forehead. His hair was sticking up in every direction. He still looked sexy!
He groans again, dragging his face into the pillow. “No freaking way.”
You gesture at the evidence. “Yeah way...you left nothing, baby. The snickers..the reeses..even the gross licorice you said you hated. All gone.”
He squints one eye open again, catching the grin on your face. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was.” You pick up a crushed Milky Way wrapper and drop it onto his chest. “You demolished it, Rafe, all of it.”
He lets out a low laugh, muffled into the pillow, equal parts sheepish and pained. “I’m an animal.”
“You’re an idiot,” you say affectionately, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. “But a cute one.”
He grins against the sheets, still not moving much. “You didn’t come to bed last night.”
“I tried,” you say, brushing your fingertips over his shoulder. “But you were out cold, snoring like a lumberjack, and the room smelled like too alcoholish, so I gave up.”
He cracks a lazy smile. “You love me anyway.”
You hum, pretending to think about it, tapping your cheek. “I do... Unfortunately.”
He finally opens both eyes, rolling onto his back again, groaning like it physically hurts. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“That’s what happens when you mix vodka and candy.”
He looks over at you with a faintly guilty grin. “Did I really eat all of it? Because you love missing with me.”
You nod solemnly. “All. Of. It. Not even one little peanut butter cup left.”
He catches your hand, tugging you closer until you were leaning over him, robe slipping down your shoulder. “You’re too good to me, angel.”
“Tch you’re lucky I didn’t record you,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were mumbling in your sleep about Twix bars and true love.”
He groans again, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Kill me now.”
You giggle, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe after I get you some water.”
He peeks at you from under his arm. “And Advil.”
“And Advil,” you agree.
You stand, the robe fluttering around your thighs as you pick your way carefully through the candy carnage. The floor is littered with wrappers and crumpled foil yet you shake your head amused. You grab the trash can from the corner and start cleaning up while Rafe watches you lazily, one hand behind his head.
“You look like some kind of sugar angel,” he mumbles, voice rough but fond.
You snort, tossing an empty candy bag at him. “You’re delirious.”
“Maybe.” He smiles, eyes following you as you move. “But I’m pretty sure I’m in love.”
You pause, looking over your shoulder at him with mock seriousness. “With me or the candy?”
He grins with a sexy laugh, “Both.”
You laugh again, shaking your head as you bend to grab another handful of wrappers. “You’re ridiculous.”
When the worst of the mess is gone, you bring him a glass of water and painkillers, setting them on the nightstand. He sits up slowly, wincing, and downs both quickly, grimacing as if even the water hurts. You crawl onto the bed beside him, curling up against his side while he leans back against the headboard.
“I really ate all of it, huh?” he says again, staring at the now-empty bag.
“Every last bite,” you confirm, tracing your finger over the faint chocolate streak across his ribs.
He catches your hand and presses a lazy kiss to your knuckles. “Guess you’ll just have to take me trick-or-treating again next year.”
You grin, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Next year, I’m hiding the bag.”
“Rude,” he mutters, wrapping his arm around you.
“Necessary,” you say, leaning into small but sweet kiss. That's when you realize November is going to be a great month.
notes: sorry for the mental breakdown but littlelamy is here to stay! using these tags for this post only.
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ᥫ᭡ mar, 21 (my b-day is march 23), aries, black/native, sentimental, hopeless romantic, flower child, lover, old soul, avid dreamer, spiritual!
ᥫ᭡ reading, drawing, sleeping, vanilla and cherry, milkshakes, silk pjs, dark and milk chocolate, wedged heels, jensen ackles, fruits, lace clothing, tea, fries, walking, pinterest, necklaces, dramas, posters, driving with the windows down, drew starkey, nature, wellness, learning random and new things, meeting new people, pizza, new and different cultures from my own, learning new languages.
ᥫ᭡ supernatural, new girl, monte carlo, uptown girls, coyete ugly, burlesque, outerbanks, rebelde, friends, wildfire, girls next door, girlfriends, gossip girl, one tree hill, the o.c., i love lucy, revenge, h2o: just add water, saved by the bell, found, fresh prince, i dream of jeannie, virgin river,…etc (will be adding to this!).
requesting chichi (cause that's my girl) with any type of !rafe but heehehehe
him having to drag her out of a party they were at, drinks were involved and chichi caught some girl staring at her man which is a biiig nono- but yes, at first she gets all huffy and puffy but the minute the other girl passes by them and purposely has a hand graze rafe's arm- yeah, cat fight! 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
any note (s) ⎯♡ yes yes yes! and this will take place after they get married (fic coming soon)
rafe had been glued to your side all night, hand in the back pocket of your skirt, leaning down every so often to press his mouth to your ear. “you’re pretty when you pout,” he had whispered earlier, when you complained about your heels pinching.
but you weren’t pouting now. you were fucking angry.
because across the room, half-hidden by the crowd of sweaty bodies and flashing lights, some girl had her eyes locked on your man. not a glance. not a double-take. a full-on, bold, hungry stare like she was thinking of climbing him like a tree. you set your drink down on the counter with a loud clink and crossed your arms over your chest.
“baby,” rafe drawled, noticing the way you shifted. “what’s with the look?”
you tilted your chin toward the girl. “her.”
"oh come on," he followed your gaze, then smirked. “seriously?”
“she’s staring at you,” you snapped.
“so?”
“so she needs to stop.” rolling your eyes.. like he should know this already.
“chi,” he cooed, pulling you closer. “you know i don’t see anyone else.”
“that’s not the point,” you huffed, pressing your chest against him. “she’s thinking about you, i can tell. i hate it.”
"or..." he grinned. “you’re jealous.”
“i’m protective,” you corrected.
“you’re possessive,” he teased. “and it’s hot as fuck.”
before you could reply, the girl herself appeared. she pushed right past the crowd, eyes lingering a second too long on rafe. her perfume trailed behind her as she brushed by, and then—oh fuck no—her hand grazed his arm.
no it was a light touch, to be honest. almost nothing. but you saw it and worse, she smiled when she did it.
“oh no you didn’t,” you muttered.
before rafe could stop you, you shoved past him and spun on the girl. “hey!” you snapped, loudly over the music.
she froze, turning with a fake innocence written all over her face. “what?”
“did you just touch my husband?” you demanded.
"chill," her brows lifted. “it was an accident.”
“like hell it was,” you spat, stepping closer to the girl. “keep your hands off what doesn’t belong to you.”
rafe’s hand caught your waist, but you shrugged him off, your eyes blazing. the girl gave a little smirk. “he doesn’t look like he minds.”
you gasped so dramatically half the people around turned to watch. “excuse me?”
before she could answer, you jumped, lunging at the girl. rafe caught you just in time, arms wrapping around your waist, hauling you back against his chest. “baby, no—”
“let me go!” you shouted, kicking your feet. “she touched you! she touched my man!”
the girl laughed under her breath, flipping her hair like she hadn’t just declared war on you. “oh my God, i will kill her!” you yelled, still thrashing.
“chiii baby,” rafe grunted, dragging you away from the crowd. “you’re drunk.”
“i am not drunk,” you snapped, trying to wiggle free. “i am furious!”
he pulled you toward the door, ignoring the stares and snickers, his grip iron around your waist. you twisted in his hold, shouting over his shoulder. “keep your desperate little claws to yourself, barbie!”
rafe finally pushed out into the cool night air, kicking the door shut behind him as he set you down on the hood of his car. you glared at him, cheeks flushed, eyes wild. “why didn’t you let me scratch her eyes out?”
“because i don’t feel like bailing my new wife out of jail,” he said flatly.
“she deserved it.”
he smirked, stepping closer until he stood between your legs. “yeah. but she’s not worth your time.”
you pouted, crossing your arms. “she touched you.”
“so what?” he asked, tilting his head.
“so you’re mine,” you snapped.
he leaned in, nose brushing yours. “you think i don’t know that?”
“then why didn’t you shove her off?”
“because i knew you would,” he said with a grin. “and honestly, it was fun watching you get all huffy.”
you gasped again, swatting his chest. “you let her touch you to see me get mad?”
“mmaayybe,” he said, his eyes dark filling with lust. “you’re sexy when you’re jealous.”
you whined, burying your face in his neck. “i hate girls looking at you.”
“good,” he murmured, gripping your thighs. “means you’ll never let me forget who i belong to.”
“that’s right,” you muttered. “you’re mine.”
“say it louder.”
you pulled back, eyes meeting his. “you’re mine.”
his mouth curved into a dirty smile. “there she is.” he kissed you hard, hands sliding under your skirt, squeezing your ass until you squeaked. "there's my pretty girl."
“rafe,” you whispered against his mouth. “take me home.”
he chuckles, with the biggest smile, “you’re lucky i love you. otherwise, i’d drive back in there and let you start that catfight.”
“you wouldn’t dare,” you gasped.
he kissed you again, softer this time. “no... i wouldn’t. because you’d win.”
"hmph," you huff sweetly, tugging his hair. “exactly.”
taking exams all next week so i won’t be on for the rest of this week and next week! i do have two more posts queued and on my breaks i will start working on some halloween imagines or fics so send any requests if you have any!!!! LOVE U GUYS
✧ Summary: You and your sister were always close, despite being polar opposites. Kook vs Pogue in the own Carrera household. You reigned Figure Eight with Rafe, but had a heart bursting with compassion for your sisters friends. Rafe, in your eyes, was the perfect boyfriend. Until that perfect image was wiped away when Kie bursted into The Wreck with Pope and JJ.
✧ Contents: Carrera siblings dynamic, past Rafe and reader dynamic, strong reader, humiliating Rafe in front of his friends, a quick slap towards the end, talks about violence (Kook vs Pogue)
✧ 8.3k words
✧ note- I loved getting into the dynamic of the carrera siblings and readers relationship with rafe. it's a pairing I don't see often. let me know if you'd want more of them!
The doors of the restaurant didn’t just open, they slammed so hard you were surprised they didn't fly off the hinges. The movement sent a burst of air throughout the restaurant, you swore you felt it on the back patio, the rise of goosebumps down your arms convinced you. The diners froze, the sudden burst of noise making the entire place go silent.
"Your boyfriend’s an asshole!"
You sucked in a breath of embarrassment, looking over to the table beside you that was just trying to enjoy the last of their meal. Your sister's words were blunt, brutal, and careless. Your lips form a tight line as you try to force a smile that screams "my apologies, please keep eating and pretend that whatever is happening isn't actually happening right now," and head over to her.
All eyes were on you when you weaved through the tables, as if you were the one who interrupted everyone's dinner. Your cheeks were flushed and your throat felt dry with this type of attention. You can hear a stifled laugh and an awkward cough attempting to break through the tension she caused. The restaurant wasn’t big, but your steps felt small and you felt like you’d never get to her. You just wanted to slip through one of the cracks in the floor and disappear.
"You say that all the time Kie,” You grit through your teeth, under your breath, begging not to draw any more attention. “Just because you don't like the Kooks, doesn't automatically make him an asshole." You drop the dirty plates into the sink, the glass clanking together at the bottom. You round the bar heading behind it to make her a snack and pour a drink, it’s usually just an instinct of yours when her and her friends come in to the restaurant.
You know that the pogues typically lack anything of nutrient at home and when they’re together, they are probably getting into a mess where the last thing they’re thinking about is to eat - or drink something that isn’t from a luke warm beer can. But in this moment you’re just doing whatever you can just to give yourself something to do to avoid whatever tirade is going to come next and pretend it doesn’t bother you.
But her words stick with you. Just like they always secretly have.
the war the kooks and pogue always had you at the center of it. Not really - you never claimed a side. Being a child of parents from both sides of the island can do that. Despite their wishes against it, you were able to easily enjoy the pleasures from Figure Eight and The Cut. No one being able to tell you otherwise.
One day you could be the perfect kook. Perfect posture, perfect outfit, perfect nails, perfect put together life. Other days you were Kie’s older sister - honorary pogue. At the beach, collecting seashells, being taught how to surf by JJ. The constant back and forth had you stretched thin. Being pulled in both directions was tiring and at times suffocating. Tonight was certainly one of those nights. Part of you wouldn’t change it for the world, part of you wished the divide would just cease to exist.
Kiara had always rejected the life that your parents wanted for the two of you. From the start, she wanted nothing to do with any of it, brunches at the country club - where crystal glasses, filled to the brim of overpriced champagne, clinked together, the women attempting to make it seem like their husbands ignoring them didn’t bother them, the constant loud business talk reeking of whiskey breath, stiff, uptight smiles and fake interest in each other's lives. She hated every aspect of it. The look, the feel, how unnatural everything was. So she did what was best for her, she ran from it. Right into the pogue life and all the chaos and recklessness that came with it.
You, on the other hand, love that life. Not because you submitted to your parents wishes, not because you were forced, but because you wanted more. You wanted your out. From the island, from the people, from all the drama the Outer Banks had to offer. This was just a step you had to take. I mean, it did come with its perks, you weren't ashamed of it, you enjoyed being a kook and it wasn’t an act, but getting what you got out of it made it even better.
You sat through lunches with old men with white collars that were so stiff you were convinced they would crumble if touched even slightly, sipping on their drinks like its their lifeline, and laughing a bit too loudly at something someone else said that was definitely not that funny. You’d nod politely and pretend to be interested in their endless brags about their wealth, or conversation about deals they made twenty years ago.
There wasn’t much talking that needed to be done by you. These men loved hearing the sound of their own voices. Only a few questions were passed to the few students that were invited to sign up for these events.
All this trouble just for the moment where the lunch would end and they would slide a business card across the table and grant you a connection to someone they know at Duke or Columbia. It was all a strategy, a ploy, to get you what you wanted. And it was a damn good price worth paying.
None of this could have been possible if you didn’t have that one person always by your side. Rafe. Your Rafe. At every networking luncheon or dinner that you would sign yourself up for, he’d be right there with you, always. Even if they weren’t for him. He wasn’t the college type. Never was. That was the difference between the two of you.
He knew that his father’s business would be there for him no matter what he planned to do with his life. He had an easy life to fall back on. All you had was a small shack of a restaurant that reeked of grease and on tap beer. Your parents worked hard to give you your life and you wanted to use that to make something of yourself.
Nevertheless, he’d be there for you. The Cameron name certainly helped - the charm too. He’d slide into the seat next to yours with zero hesitation. His hand would slide under the linen clothed table, naturally, finding yours. His touch anchored you. The way he held on steadied the nerves that coiled in your stomach. His thumb would trace the back of your hand, reminding you that you deserved to be there and that you deserved all of what these events would have to have to offer.
With him there, you were relaxed and confident. You were able to straighten your posture and talk to these men that some may find intimidating. You’d play the part you needed to. He’d slip into the conversation with such ease. Discussing deals he’s accomplished with his father or the direction he’d take the business when it was his time to take over.
One thing he never failed to do was talk to you up. All your accomplishments, extra curriculars, volunteer work. It was never rehearsed either. He just did it for you. For men with such status, there was not much effort to win them over. Every one of these events ended the same. You’d catch his eye while saying your goodbyes and he’d give you a smirk that sealed your success for the night.
Sometimes you believe that Kiara resented you. Not for your ambition or the life that you decided to choose. For the way that your parents' disappointments were rarely turned on you. The judgment always fell onto her. A constant shadow of you, always a comparison between two daughters. How she was ruining her life but yours was flourishing. It was something she could never seem to out run.
Which is why her nights at home became less frequent. The easiest thing for her to do was avoid it all together. There was nothing that could be done. You tried, you really tried to calm your parents' constant nagging about Kiara and her life.
Still, she never blamed you. She could see how much you fought for her. She always knew how determined you were and never faulted you for going for what you wanted. Most importantly, she knew that you did the same for her. You both were so different but there was a mutual respect in the divide that split you.
You grew up best friends. Always attached at the hip. Always making sure she was happy. Cheering her up when she wasn’t. She was your baby sister. You’d do anything for her. Nothing could change that. There was never a night spent as children where you didn’t share a bed, despite having your own rooms. If it wasn’t clear you were the older one, people could have mistaken you for twins. Even when different interests took over in each of your lives, you would do anything for each other.
There was nothing - no boyfriend, no friend, no kook, no pogue that could change the love you had for one another.
On Fridays, you’d spend the day with your Kook friends, shopping and getting your nails done. Laughing over iced lattes and croissants at a cafe on Figure Eight, then make your way into a massive party. One packed with top tier liquor, polos, and the smell of too much cologne.
Without fail, Saturday morning, you’d be up bright and early, trash bag in tow, making your way down to the beach to pick up trash and making a clearing for the newest hatch of turtles. Your worlds were completely different and would never have a chance of aligning, but you’d always make space for both. Just for your sister.
Four years have gone past with Rafe. That’s what everyone knew you for. The Carrera and the Cameron. The golden couple of the Outer Banks. You made your way through high school together and everyone was certain he’d follow you wherever you ended up. He was everything and more when it came to you. Strong, protective, supportive, even helped that he was good in bed. You didn’t think you could see your life without him.
You lived on Figure Eight your entire life. The island was etched into your skin. It was all you knew. Your parents worked hard, your dad, being a pogue, dug his way out from the bottom with the support of your kook born mom. All that work had given them a name with recognition, but I never came with the status. They had just made it, but being restaurant owners didn’t compare to what everyone else was on Figure Eight. They weren’t lawyers, renowned doctors, real estate moguls, everyone knew that.
You were set to go to the island’s most prestigious schools. You had made a small group of friends in elementary that stuck with you throughout the rest of the years. They were the only ones who saw you for you and you kept them close always. Non judgmental, non pressuring.
You were confident and excelled when it came to your studies and sports. But socially - socially was a completely different story. Most of the time you felt like an outsider. You had a bright and bubbly personality when it came to those who were closest to you but you could never seem to branch out with others. Which is why Rafe was always your plus one to school events.
You attended parties, but never seemed to match the buzz that surrounded them. You’d sip your drink, maybe take a few hits of the blunt that would be passed around - but it still never seemed to break that shell. You would stick to who you knew, and eventually Rafe, when you two started dating.
You weren’t confrontational. You weren’t the one who raised their voice and threw punches. You were quiet and collected, unless you needed to be. You have never been in a situation that required you to be that, and you never thought you’d have to be.
That’s what surprised you most when you learned Rafe had interest in you.
You seemed to be polar opposites. He could light up a room in his own way, all eyes on him, just because he was Rafe. He was social, active, the one all the girls wanted, the one who the guys wanted to be - even if they would try to deny it.
You didn’t look like the other girls who clung to him at parties. The ones that would laugh at any little thing he’d say. Some of the ones you’d catch him attempt to subtly bring upstairs to a room. You hair was naturally curly, knotted when the wind picked up and frizzed too easily. You had the curves they didn’t. They had the flat stomach you didn’t. You didn’t mean to compare, but god, some of these Figure Eight girls could’ve been pulled straight from a magazine. For the first few months of Rafe’s constant passes to get you to go out with him, you’d turn him down out of straight confusion of why he wanted you in the first place.
But somehow and for some reason, he chose you. Out of all of them- he wanted you. Once he had you, he made sure he would never lose you. His one goal was to make you happy.
Nothing comes easy though. Being with Rafe meant entering his circle. You fought hard to prove that you were worthy of being there - that you belonged to be standing there with him of all people. Not that it mattered much. You could stand Topper or Kelce. The sounds of their voices were worse than nails on a chalkboard.
Either way, you, through every whisper, every smirk amongst the close friends pushed through,cfinding a way to make a place for yourself. Every condescending comment and glance towards you. Each one surprisingly shut down by Rafe. Not that surprising actually. He seemd to be a king in these people’s eyes.
You passed every test of loyalty. Eventually you earned it. The respect and the friendship - even if it wasn’t entirely wanted with this group of people. You weren’t just Rafe's girl anymore, an outsider brought in. You were one of them.
All was good until Kiara changed her mind about the direction she wanted her life to go..
She made her choice. She gave the Kook life a good year before she decided it wasn’t for her. But in Kiara fashion she couldn’t go out quietly. Reconnected with her Pogue friends, she made sure to make any Kook that passed her life’s hell. What she didn’t care to realize that it meant it messed with your life as well.
Being her sister meant guilty by association to whatever her and her friends did. Her actions became your burden. It didn’t matter if you didn’t share opinions, didn’t egg her on - the side eyes you were given told you that others didn’t believe that. You felt yourself slipping back to square one. Right back to feeling like you didn’t belong with the people you tried to prove you did for the last few months.
Despite the fact that you loved her and her friends even became some of yours- in a big sister protective type of way- what they unintentionally did to you drove you mad.
Rafe noticed every little thing when it came to you. He noticed how you closed yourself off. Stopped the bright smile and jokes you once had when you finally felt comfortable in his small group. No one ever thought to see if you were okay, but Rafe. He took this time to just spend one to one time with you. Ditching his friends, despite your objections. He’d take you shopping on him, went on more dates. Even spending more family dinners at yours. Complete princess treatment. Although you were grateful, you couldn't help but feel bad that abandoned his life for you. Never knowing the reason for your sister’s growing resentment was due to him and his crew of people.
And it never led you to expect any other type of behavior from him.
Kiara seethed at the thought of you together. She seemed fine at first. But hearing her little comments, whenever you would talk to her about him. You swore it had something to do with her having a crush on him when she was friends with Sarah, but you could never prove it to be true. You decided that her disapproval didnt matter. You were happy and Rafe brought you that happiness. It outweighed her anger immensely. It’s not like at that point she was sitting through family dinners anyway, Their paths never crossed. Why did she care who you were with? He never gave you a reason to question him. Not once. Not until tonight.
How stupid could you have been? How fucking blind were you?
"Oh yeah? She shot back. Her voice was cold and demanding. “Well, this…” she gestured behind her, “ this certainly does one hundred and ten percent prove how much of an asshole he actually is."
You roll your eyes with a smirk tugging at your lips. Mouth ready with another retort for this constant sisterly back and forth about your relationship. You spin around and the words die on your tongue. The smirk has completely vanished and your breath hitches at the sight before you.
JJ and Pope emerge from behind Kie. Walking in with a shy and embarrassed demeanor. The sight of them sends you into shock and panic. You could see the pain intheir faces. JJ with his lip slit wide open, blood dripping down his chin. Pope with one eye half way swollen shut and gash on his cheek that looked like something that could’ve been cut with a knife… or a ring from a punch.
You know they’ve been in fights before. Hell, all these kids do is fight for their lives. They couldn’t go a day without a black eye. But something about this. Something about the way they look so defeated, killed you inside. The bruises that we left behind look almost like a targeted attack. Like they were sought out and beaten and whoever did it just didn’t have time to finish the job.
"What the fuck happened?!"
You didn’t even wait for an answer. You ran back behind the bar again grabbing anything you could that could help them. Ice, towels, a glass of water. You pressed a cold rag full of ice gently to Pope’s eye and shoved another toward JJ. Your pulse spiked when his fingers grazed the back of your hands leaving a mark of his blood on it.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” he murmurred. You gave him a warm but sad smile and turned towards your sister.
Kiara had always been one to hold back - for your sake. Being as outspoken as she was, it was incredibly hard for her. The opinions she held for Rafe were always right there. Always waiting to come out. They never did. She knew you didn’t know about that side of him. She knew if you did, you’d never be with someone like that.
She felt a need to shield you even when she knew it was wrong. You were her bright and bubbly sister. The one who saw the good in everyone. She hated Rafe. Everything about him. But she also saw the way he made you extremely happy. She couldn’t deny that and she never wanted to be the one to hurt you. The one who made all your plans with Rafe come crumbling down. She almost regretted what she was about to say.
Now it was different. Now she couldn’t hold back.
She seemed to be at her wits end. She looked as if she was unraveling right before your eyes. This was the final straw for her. You noticed the way her hands trembled. Her fists were so tight, her long, chipped polished nails could break the skin. Her chest was heaving and drops of sweats rained down her forehead.
You stepped closer to her, laying your hands on both of her shoulders. Squeezing slightly as if it would bring her back down from whatever space her mind was heading
“Kiara? What. The. Fuck happened to them?”
“Your boyfriend,” She spat, each syllable was laced with pure venom. “Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. They jumped them when we were leaving the bonfire tonight. For no reason. They kept saying shit about them owing them for something. They didn’t even do anything. They didn’t provoke them. We didnt even see them all night. We were leaving. Stayed on the other side of the beach. They cornered them in the parking lot. This isnt the first time they came for them like this. This - this time, it just got really bad.”
Unfortunately for Kiara, your world did in fact just crumble right before you. Your Rafe? Violent? What did she mean by this isn’t the first time? You almost wanted to tell her you didn’t believe her. That she was a liar. She was in a sense.
But not about this.
You can tell by her voice that not only was she angry, but it was hard for her to tell you this. It gave it away before your brain even had a chance for any of this to sink in. It was shaky but pissed. It cracked, carrying a severe weight behind it, that didn’t only hold the anger she held for her friends. The fact that she had to even tell you, it seemed like it was killing her to. She could barely look you in the eye when she spoke. Her gaze caught every inch of the restaurant, except for your eyeline. It was true.
She wasn't finished. She figured she already started to peel back the tape, why not rip the whole band aid off while she was at it.
“Rafe grabbed Pope by the collar and slammed him against a car. When Pope dropped to the floor, he grabbed him again and punched him. He wouldn’t stop.Topper and Kelce took on JJ. They didn’t stand a chance. We were blindsided. No one was around to even help. Don’t you get it?! They are so fucking cruel.”
You needed to sit down on the stool next to JJ. You felt him rest a hand on your arm trying to comfort you. But how the hell were meant to be comforted right now. Him and Pope are standing there hurt beyond belief and yet all the attention is on you now. Looking to make sure you’re okay. You felt like a fool. How could you have been so pathetic?
Kiara took a step closer to you. “You should have seen their eyes, sis. Black. Full of rage. But I’m sure that’s not the only reason why.”
You give her a confused look. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’
“Hey! Language!” You didn’t notice your mom making her way from the back office.
“They do coke all the time. They’re all addicted. Rafe sells at these things when you’re not there. Maybe even when you are. I don’t know. But I know that he’s not ok.”
When you asked her to explain what happened and what her problem is with Rafe. You didn’t expect her to unload everything she did. It scared you but you didn’t let it show. The fights, the ego, the coke..? None of it made sense. None of it was the boy you thought you knew.
“Everyone lied to me? Am I the only one who never saw this? Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”
Your vision blurred and all you could see was red. The girl you never thought you could be was beginning to show. The quiet and shy personality shed quickly and red hot anger boiling inside of you at this very moment fueled you. You needed to get out of here.
“Everyone knew except for me the kind of person Rafe was. No one told me. I feel so fucking stupid.”
For once your sister was at a loss for words. She had never seen you so angry. Before she could even get a word out. You were slamming down the rag in your hand and ripping off your apron. You grabbed your purse. You didn’t care about the stares from the diners anymore. You needed to get the fuck out of there.
Making your way out of The Wreck, ignoring the calls of your mom and Kiara to just come back inside.
You ripped your keys from your purse in a hurry. Every step towards your car felt like an eternity. Your feet felt heavy and the ground was like quick sand. Your veins rushed with blood, and your skin felt like it was on fire. Tears threatened to spill over. You were angry with Rafe, with his shit head friends. You were sort of mad with your sister and her friends - even though it was extremely hard to be. You knew she was going to fill your parents in now that you left. So eventually you’d be mad at them and their new opinions of Rafe. Because no matter what, you still couldn’t help but hold onto the love you had for him.
More than anything - you were mad at yourself. Mad you let the lies and the betrayal get this far. Mad that you couldn’t pick out any of the little signs that may have been there because of how in love you were with him. Was he ever high with you? Did you ever catch his pupils blown out and mistake it for lust? Surely if he were addicted like your sister said he had to have been. Right?
He just must have been in so deep, that he was able to handle himself like normal around you.
Were you just a sick game to him? Someone to keep up appearances when he needed to be taken seriously? Were you just his puppet? Did he laugh at you behind your back with his friends? You could just imagine him sitting there with Topper and Kelce with a smug look on his face mocking you. They probably even did it without Rafe around anyways. Laughing at the girl who thought she finally had a sense of belonging. Who thought she had a right to sit with them. Telling anyone who would listen. Letting them all in on the joke.
The questions wouldn’t stop. Your mind was spiraling. Your hands pressed against your temples trying to force them to go away. Almost every moment with him felt tainted now. As if none of it was real. Was it? Seriously, was it?
You had finally come to the realization that through all of these thoughts, you were still sitting in your car in the parking lot of your family’s restaurant with the engine off. Taking a deep breath you twisted the key to the car and the engine roared to life. Without even thinking you flew down the streets of Figure Eight. You were going well over the speed limit, barely stopping for stop signs and hitting the gas before the light even turned green. You were on auto pilot. Making all the turns you always did. Your mind knew exactly where it was going without even thinking. Without you really even being there.
Your car eventually came to a complete stop when you were in front of your destination.
The Cameron’s home.
Your tires screeched against the gravel of the driveway when you pulled up. The large house was haunting to look at. Its massive build loomed over you. It always held such a dark feeling for you. It never felt luxurious. It never felt like a real home, you felt suffocated when inside, even with the large rooms and high ceilings. At night it was much worse. The black sky illuminating it only made it more eerie to look at.
You could see that all the lights were off except the main living room. You knew that Ward and Rose were away. You knew that Sarah was out with John B. You knew that if both of the older Cameron siblings were out, Wheezie was probably over a friends.
You had just spent the previous night, curled up in tangled sheets, completely bare next to Rafe. You planned to spend tonight with him too. That was before your mom called you into work for a double. Before twenty four hours later your world was turned upside down. When everything felt so simple.
You sucked in a deep breath, attempting to gather your thoughts, but it did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of you. You don’t think anything has ever made you this mad before. It was a sort of betrayal on a whole new level. Your heart thumped so loudly you could hear it in your ears. Your rage left no room for reason and yours was teetering over the edge.
The car door slammed behind you loud enough for it to be mistaken for a gunshot. The sound echoed through the quiet streets of what is meant to be the “better side of town.” Without pausing, you stormed up the driveway to the entryway of the home. Your small fists, with perfectly manicured nails and stacked gold bracelets slammed against the door so hard, it could have been mistaken for a burglar trying to force his way in.
Your knuckles stung but you didn’t care. Pound after pound, you weren’t stopping until the door was open. It wasn’t to be mistaken for a polite knock. You were on a mission. Something you couldn’t turn back from now. You almost laughed while doing so. Picturing yourself turning green and massive with Hulk rage. Just like in the stupid Marvel movies Rafe forces you to sit through when you have a movie night.
Rafe opened the door with a half smirk. Happy to see his girlfriend. Simply thinking you were off for the night and came as soon as you could to come see him and maybe finish what was started the night before. He didn’t even register your expression. The fury written all over your face. It gave you a second of opportunity to really examine him.
He was high. High and fucking stupid.
Your eyes trail down his figure. Hair is a mess. Sweat is slowly dripping down his forehead. His posture was tense but somehow relaxed. He seemed calm but hyper. Further down, his free hand flexed and his ring caught in the light. You could see the dried blood that covered it. Pope’s dried blood.
This was all the confirmation you needed. He didn’t know what you did yet. That the biggest lie of your relationship was fully on display for you know. You knew all about it. He’s been violent with tohers before. He’s been high with you before. He’s comfortable enough to not hide it when you’re around. Why would he? You never picked up on it before. You never questioned it. Why would he think any differently now?
The questions that drilled into your mind from earlier come back to you. Was he ever high with you? Did you ever catch his pupils blown out and mistake it for passion? Surely if he were addicted like your sister said he had to have been. Right?
Every blank stare, every reaction that was just a bit delayed, when his palms would sweat and he’d get a little to restless when you’d want to lay around and just be with him. They all played in your mind like film reel. Flickering through every moment with him, scene after scene. It made you feel sick, you almost thought you could vomit on his hideous boat shoes right there in the entry way.
But you came here for a reason and you shoved those feelings to the side as quickly as you arrived here.
You push past him and make your way further into the house. There’s music blasting and surely enough Topper and Kelce are sitting there on the couch. Kelce sees you first and moves to hide the remnants of coke left on the table you had already seen when you walked past them making your was further into the living room. Your fists curl into balls and you spin around as Rafe casually strolls in behind you, still unsuspecting. Laughing at the looks on his friends' faces, causing them to laugh as well.
“What the fuck if wrong with you?!”
The laughter died down immediately. You pick up and click a button on the remote that controls the sound system, leaving the room in an awkward silence. All three boys were caught off by your tone. Not used to the flare behind it. Not used to the volume of it. Rafe’s face drops before he remembers that he’s in the presence of two of his friends.
Friends that he knows respect him too much and think highly of him. With what you’ve heard tonight, they might think a little too highly of him. But who are you kidding? They’re just like him. They don’t care. His ego kicks in way too quickly for your liking. Like it mattered more than whatever reason that could have you coming in here like this. This angry. You’d think it would be a cause for concern. You have never spoken to him like this and he isn’t about to be spoken to like that in front of them.
So he makes the biggest mistake of his life. He turns on that cocky tough boy Kook persona. The one all the other Kooks guys had that mad you despise them all. Apparently, the one everyone on the island seemed to know him for. Everyone expect for you, up until this point. You thought you had actually found the needle in the haystack. But it turned out it was just his mask.
Or was the personality he used with you the mask? You really didn’t know which Rafe was the real Rafe anymore.
He leaned lazily against the frame of the living room’s french doors. His arms were crossed, not in a protective way, not like he was comforting any nerves building up within, but in a way that made you feel like your burst in to their little party was nothing more than inconvenience for him. Topper and Kelce were still sat in the middle of you two on either end of couch. Heads shifting back and forth as if they were attending a heated tennis match.
He was putting on a show for them. Unbotered, cool, calm, and collected. He knew they were watching the two of you. He was always the protector of this relationship. It annoyed his friends how much he needed to look out for you when you were all out but they also knew that his feelings for you were true. So whatever was happening was new to all of them.
“Relax princess,” the words slipped off his tongue and you couldn’t believe how it filled you with such disdain. Typically that nickname would make you swoon. Have you blushing and giggling while you cover your face with the palms of your hands. The tone he used now makes your stomach turn. It’s as if he doesn’t see you the same, that he suspects something. But you know that it’s just a front and if he wants to play that game, you intend to break him. No matter how bad it breaks that character he’s built amongst his friends. “What’s got ya so riled up ton-?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you snapped, making sure to cut him off before he could finish making a fool in your eyes anymoref. For a moment, you really wanted to let yourself believe that all of this was just being blown out of proportion. That there might be more to Kie’s story, thay maybe this was all just a big misunderstanding, that he’d be able to explain this better to you. You hoped. But the second he open the door, then when he opemed his mouth, all of that was hope was gone.
The images of JJ and Pope’s faces were stuck in your mind. Rafe’s behavior right off the bat had your eye unintentionally twitching, you hoped that it wasn’t noticeable. The unwanted looks of the peanut gallery, almost made you want to smack the looks right of their faces. But that’s not you. That’s exactly the kind of thing that you’re here for.
“You don’t get to sit there and put on your perfect little act, I’m not blind to it anymore, Rafe.” Your voice isn’t loud, it’s cold and sharp. He won’t show it, but you see it. With how you’re already speaking to him, each word is strating to slice him like a knife, slowly, but deeper and deeper. Part of you, despite how much this hurts, is enjoying watching it happen.
“You’re not who I thought you were. You’re not the boy who took me out on dates, who took care of me when my anxiety was through the roof, when your friends belittled me, who spent all those luncheons holding my hand under the table.”
The three boys stared at you, seeming to be at a loss for words. For once in their stuck up pathetic lives.
“I heard about the fun you had tonight. Actually, I saw it. I saw what you did. Do you want to elaborate on what happened? Don’t bullshit me either, Rafe.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened so deeply, you were expecting to hear his teeth crush in his mouth. His nostrils flared and you could see they way his chest rose and fell. Topper and Kelce slowly shifted their gaze back towards Rafe with dropped jaws. They all had been caught.
Still not a peep from any of them.
“Anything? Do you really not have anything to say after you pummeled JJ and Pope’s faces in high off your minds?” The conversation, or lack there of, began to piss you off more that the whole reason you’re even there. Your voice began to rise more and more but with no response, you kept going.
“Does it just have to do with the fact that their from the Cut? They don’t have crisp polos and can’t swing a golf club that pisses you off so much? They’re worn in sneakers don’t compare to those ugly fucking boat shoes? They don’t fit in your perfect little Figure Eight life, so they deserve to be beaten to a pulp?”
Topper opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, probably some pitiful attempt to excuse their behavior. Or maybe an insult or something funny to break the tension but before he even got the chance, your eyes shot a glance at him so sharp, his lips snapped shut. You heard Kelce let out a quiet whistle at the action but you ignored it.
You were honestly happy to have their attention. You didn’t plan on having an audience but being able to stand her and not only question your boyfriend’s intention but also give his friends, that you couldnt stand for the longest time, a piece of your mind was seriously thrilling. You were hoping to bruise their ego, even just a little. Just humiliate them enough to have what they did to the pogues reflect back onto them.
But you didn’t want them to say anything. Speaking was reserved for only two people in this room. You and Rafe.
Rafe finally let out a short breathy laugh. “This is about them? Your sister and her charity case friends? They’re always running around this island looking for scraps. Your sister is doing no good slumming it with. Like it’s some kind of rebellious act. No wonder your parents hate her. Why do you give this much of a shit about them?”
Your face contorted. You’d hear the casual bicker about pogues. You knew there was mutual hatred there. This was a low blow. Rafe know’s exactly where to hit to make sure it hurts. What is has to do with you and your family, you don’t know. But apparently sticking up for other who aren’t in their inner circle is another level of traitory.
“Don’t you ever speak about my fucking family like that. You don’t get to throw all the things I’ve confided in you with back in my face when you’re upset. You don’t get to throw my family’s name into the mix for a joke. When they haven’t done anything to you. You gonna start swinging next?”
Rafe stepped forward his hands up in surrender, thinking he can diffuse the situtation, “we were just handling business.”
“This isn’t business. You and your idiots friends,” you point sharply at him and then gesture to Topper and Kelce, “jumped them for no reason. They were just trying to leave. You instigated, you threw punches, and they left defeated and humiliated. Two against three. Does that make you feel tough? Let me answer for you. It fucking shouldn’t, because it makes you pathetic.”
Topper and Kelce simultaneously blew out a breath. A hand running down each of their faces. No matter the noise from beside you, the words kept spilling and you kept getting closer to him.
Rafe looked down at you, “you know what? Maybe your sister should have a tighter leash on her little street dogs. Then they’d stop getting in the way so much. Then they wouldn’t get their asses beat. They should learn how to keep their tails between their legs and slip into the cracks, where no one gives a shit about them.”
You shoved him back as hard as you could at another mention of your sister. You didn’t mean to get physical, really, but one thing you don’t play about is Kiara.
“I mean what do expect from a family like yours. Mixed blood, its like were in Harry Potter. One daughter plays house with pogues and the other is crawling into bed with-”
“Shut the fuck up Rafe! Say another word about my sister, i dare you. See what will happen next.”
You’re fuming now. Who the fuck does he think he is? Speaking to you like this?
“Doing things like this just because you think you can, doesn’t make you the man, you think it does.” You jabbed a finger into his chest hard. “It makes you a coward. You’re a fucking coward Rafe Cameron. You hide behind ego and daddy’s money. I can say a lot about that too, y’know? But me and your are clearly very different. I wont dig where i know it will hurt.”
Rafe opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t let him. You knew bringing that up would strike a cord.
“Do you really believe the act you put on? The one you try so hard to sell your amazing friends over here? Do you know how much you actually have in common with JJ? You’d be fucking surprised.”
Rafe laughs. Fully laughs as if you were some kind of stand up comedian. “Oh I know all about the Maybanks and how daddy dearest gets in worse punches than I can.”
Flames rush through your veins. “That’s really rich coming from you. You talk a big game, Rafe. But don’t forget who you go to when Ward isn’t happy with you. You still make sure to hide behind his money and the reputation of being a cameron that you let rot quicker than you can keep it together. They may have gotten the short end of the stick, but at least they have something real. They created their own family, that’s a lot more than you could say.”
He looks over your shoulder to his friends who are now acting like they aren’t listening. You can see the gears turning in head. He’s at a loss for words. He knows he’s losing right now. But in Rafe Cameron fashion, that you had the unfortune experience of learning quickly. He wont’t back down and he’ll hit even deeper.
“This is a lot coming from a girl who dated up. Tell me how does it feel to use my families name to get you where you want?”
Before you know it, you slap him across the cheek. His head whips to the side his jaw drops open and his fingers lift to press on the burn you left behind.
“You wanna know how it feels? It feel like i don’t even know who you are. Which side of you is the real Rafe? I feel like you think you’re untouchable and I’m learning a lot about you and how you view others around you. You think you and your friends are so superior, but you hold no knowledge. You let your fists do your talking and that makes you weak. Real people - good people like the pogues - don’t need to prove themselves by breaking down others.”
The silence that followed was thick and the tension could be cut with a knife. Topper and Kelce looked as if they wanted to crawl out of their own skin. Your words seemed to effect them more than your own boyfriends. Rafe’s color drained from his face. He had no where left to go. He was cornered. He had no other remark to that.
He loves you he truly does. But when anger gets the best of him, instead of righting his wrongs and pulling himself out of the dirt, he tends to dig himself deeper. He was losing you right now and he didn’t know how to make it right. His head hung low with shame. Unable to met your eyes, you realized the same thing.
“You wanted to big the big man tonight, celebrate with your friends with some lines. Well congrats Rafe. You did it. Don’t try to drag me and my families name down with you. I was blind to it for so long. I gave you everything of me. My heart, my life, my firsts. Everything. And you destroyed what we built in one night. I wish what he had was real-”
His head shot up. His pupils were almost back to normal now. His eyes were no longer filled with anger, but sad and already mourning. “It was all of it. With you I was real.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
You didn’t relish in tearing him down. This wasn’t just about breaking him and finding out the truth. This is breaking your own heart. You’re doing what’s right. No matter how happy he made you, this almost felt like clarity. So much was put onto you tonight. Leaving here, without his name on your heart, was the first step in dealing with it.
“Okay, you can sit here and think about everything. Do whatever you want.” Your hand gestured to the coffee table where small baggies of coke were messily hidden behind the decor. “I just don’t plan to be apart of whatever this Rafe Cameron is about.”
You brushed past him, shoulders loose and defeated. Rafe wanted to reach to you and pull you into him, smell the fruity scent of your hair products that used to bring him so much comfort. Now he knows that a slight wiff of it will only haunt him from here on out. He was frozen in place. Hearing the best thing that ever happen to him slip from his fingers and walk right out the front door.
When he heard your car pull away, his feet, now heavy, dragged him to the couch opposite of Topper and Kelce. He sunk into it wishing it would just swallow him whole. His head was spinning and his heart was racing. The blood rushed to his ears, drowning out the concerns of his friends. He never thought he’d end up here. He always promised himself that at one point, he’d get better for you. He just never expected you to find out the truth about him.
While all of this was going on back at Tannyhill, you were in your car, driving with no intentional destination in sight. You ended up at the small hidden beach you and Rafe used to go to for a moment of peace. You exited the car and made your way to the sand. You needed this before you entered the whirlwind of what your life was about to become back at home.
Your vision was blurry and Rafe wouldn’t leave your mind - no matter how hard you tried to push him out of it. All the words he said to you, whether he truly meant them or not stook harder that you expected. You knew he was high when you showed up. But they say drunk words are sober thoughts. Does that also qualify for coke addicts?
Times like these, where you’d feel down and worthless were the times that you’d go to Rafe for comfort. Since that was no longer an option, you decided it was best for you to throw yourself into work.
Weeks had passed and you got a second job, your own job, sent out a bunch of college applications and essays and got yourself to where you needed, all without the Cameron name. Your fingers trembled opening each letter. Each letter that came back as accepted.
Weeks turned into months and you didn’t think of Rafe. Not as much as you used to at least. Your future shined bright and that’s what mattered to you most.
✧ after fic note- this took me forever and I still hate it. I'm accepting that I find myself to be a terrible writer.
Also if someone knows who made the bow dividers please let me know so I can credit them! I lost the post I saved them from and now I can't remember who they are.
doll’s mornings always start with a refreshing shower, using her favorite cherry scented body wash from victoria secret. she lights up a candle before sitting down at her vanity, and never skips blush or her pink lipgloss.
getting nails done with sofia:
doll never shows up to the salon looking anything less than perfect. even for just getting a fresh set, she always has to look her best. and of course sofia is already used to it.
lunch date at the country club with rafe:
doll loves putting on a good mini skirt, especially when rafe is around. a spritz of her chanel perfume and a little bit of dior gloss and she’s out the door. ready to sit pretty on rafe’s arm.
lounging by the pool:
doll is an iced coffee addict. so whenever she is tanning outside she never forgets about her beloved iced vanilla latte. the perfect addition to a perfect pool day.
taking goose out for a walk:
the only time you catch doll wearing sneakers is when she’s taking goose out on a walk. still, she makes sure to keep that little bit of ‘doll’, wearing her signature pink juicy tracksuit.
going to sleep at 11pm:
even after a busy day like this, doll never forgets about her night time routine. including hair oiling, double cleansing, and a gua sha face massage. and of course her nightly routine of scrolling through insta, pinterest and tiktok. lastly a quick ‘goodnight’ message to rafe, and she’s off to bed.
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