in which it's your birthday and your boyfriend is a prick.
INSPIRED BY 'SINGLE' BY THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.
warnings: mentions of cheating, underage drinking, violence + some fluff :)
pronouns: she/her
word count: 2.7k
a/n: hi everyone! i haven't written in so long but obx season 2 inspired me to start again. if anyone sees this, i hope you enjoy! also, i will probably turn this into a series if people want me to. have a great day & thank you for reading :-)
It was no secret that you were too good for Topper Thornton. The whole island knew it, from the Cut to Figure 8. It was pretty obvious every time you two went out together that people disapproved of your relationship. Your boyfriend didn’t exactly have the greatest of reputations, even among his so-called “friends” from school. You didn’t blame everyone, though. Topper seemed to only come around when it was convenient for him -- i.e. when he needed help on his algebra homework, wanted a quick hookup, or his other friends were busy. He never invited you on dates, and the few times you’ve initiated a dinner together, you were always the one who footed the bill at the end of the night. It’s not even like you minded spending the money (although his family had way more than yours), it was just the principle of it all. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the kid just didn’t care about you enough.
Another quality characteristic of your charming boyfriend: he had a tendency to get shitfaced quite often. You drank at parties, too, but never on his level, and whenever you tried to talk to him about it, he just told you to leave him alone.
At this point, you weren’t even sure why you kept putting up with it anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time Topper made you happy, or even smile. For heaven’s sake, the kid forgot it was your birthday this morning until you reminded him. Never in a million years did you think you’d have to text your own boyfriend and remind him that it was your birthday. Even then, the best he could offer was a measly text message, not even a phone call.
Your birthday was the whole reason why everyone was at your house tonight. Despite your incessant protesting, your friends threw you a party and invited basically the whole island over to your place. One good thing was that you were lucky in that you had friends from both social groups. You had met Pope in your AP History class sophomore year, and he introduced you to the rest of his friends: John B, JJ, and Kiara. Your best friend in the entire world, though, was Sarah Cameron. Ward and your father had been business partners ever since you guys were babies, so you spent a lot of time together growing up and had been inseparable ever since. The number of nights you’d spent at Tanneyhill, giggling with Sarah and running away after pranking her brother, were too many to count.
Even though you were more of an introvert, you were secretly thankful to have this temporary distraction from your disaster of a relationship. Being with your friends, plus a little bit of liquid courage, took your mind away from your worries. Well, more like your one massive worry that was Topper.
You’d spent the majority of the night so far greeting everyone and thanking them for their birthday wishes. Talking to everyone was fun, but you couldn’t help but feel sad that your boyfriend had only offered you a nod when he showed up an hour late. He didn’t even come over and give you a hug. Was it really that hard?
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” You heard from behind you, jolting you out of your thoughts, causing you to put your drink down and quickly turn around. Before you could even look up, you were completely engulfed in a hug by Sarah. She was giggling -- she definitely wasn’t sober, but her happiness made you crack a smile.
“Thanks, Sar.” You grinned at her after she released you from her embrace.
“How has your night been so far? Did we do a good job?” Sarah asked you, taking another sip from her red Solo cup.
Biting your cheek, you resisted the urge to burst into tears over Topper. Instead, you just grinned some more, “Oh, the best.”
(Un)lucky for you, your best friend wasn’t an idiot. You might have not said anything, but the look on your face said it all. She could immediately tell that something was off. If it was that douchebag again... she swore.
“You’re sure everything’s alright? Do you need to talk about anything?”
Her question nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. It took everything in you to keep it all in, but somehow you managed to do it. Now was not the time or place for you to unleash all of your baggage on her. You just wanted to, for once, enjoy your night without worrying about your mess of a boyfriend.
“Yep, promise,” You replied, squeezing her arm. “Just getting kinda bored standing here. Wanna play beer pong?”
Sarah knew you weren’t being honest, but she didn’t want to push it any further -- at least for now. Instead, she nodded enthusiastically at your proposition before running off to assemble teams. In the meantime, you scanned the room for Topper. You hadn’t seen him since he got here, which wasn’t unusual, but a small part of you still wished things were different. Like how they used to be.
Eyes bouncing from person to person, Kook to Pogue, you were growing frustrated. Your basement wasn’t even that big -- where could he possibly have gone?
Your train of thought was soon interrupted when Sarah came bounding back into the room, making a beeline for you. Unbeknownst to you, she was trying to protect you from what she had just seen. Cursing under her breath, she swore that one day she would get revenge on that stupid guy, but for now she would just have to distract you.
“Hey, S, did you find enough players?” You asked, oblivious, when you saw your friend making her way towards you. “I was thinking me and you could be a team, and maybe Pope and JJ, or--”
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks when she saw your mouth hang open, your sentence cut in half. Suddenly, the room started to spin and your hands felt clammy. Raising one hand to your forehead, you didn’t even care that your drink spilled all over your shoes beneath you.
Well, you found Topper. With a girl wrapped around him, shoved into a corner of your own basement doing God knows what for God knows how long.
Sarah reached out to grab your arm, but you easily shook out of her grasp. You didn’t think twice before approaching him, grabbing a random cup out of someone’s hands, and pouring it right over his head.
Topper quickly looked up, confused, until he met your burning gaze. His mouth opened in an ‘O’, and it looked like he was about to come up with some bullshit excuse, but you cut him off before he could get any words out.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Topper winced, before looking at the girl and then looking back at you. His momentary regret quickly faded as he chuckled nonchalantly. “You know what, Y/N, go to hell.” Topper’s drunken words sliced through the air, the combination of tension and humidity making the room feel way warmer than it was. “Like, seriously. I’m so fucking sick of you. Always making a problem of everything. Can’t ever let a man do his thing.” His insults, although slurred, cut right through you like a knife. You were used to him getting drunk and acting mean, but it was never like this. Never this bad.
“Do your thing? You mean making out with random Tourons right in front of my face? On my birthday?” You tried your hardest not to let your voice break. The last thing you wanted was for him to know how badly he was hurting you. As if he would even care, anyways.
“It’s not my fault that you can’t give me what I need.” Topper smirked, tightening his grip on the random girl’s waist. You could actually feel your stomach churn at his awful words. The tears welled up in your eyes and it took everything inside of you not to break down in front of him. That was the last thing you wanted to happen -- to give him even more satisfaction. Pulling your top lip in between your teeth, you spun on your heel to turn around and find a quiet room to have your breakdown in.
You only got about two steps away, though, before you heard a voice behind you. “What the fuck is your problem, man?”
Rafe.
You didn’t even know he was here. He must have shown up late. Why was he here?
“How screwed up are you, Top? You’re at your girlfriend’s goddamn birthday party and you pull this shit? There a screw loose up there or something?” His ring-clad hands gestured to Topper’s head and his words were laced with venom. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Rafe was your best friend’s older brother -- when you and Sarah were younger, you had the biggest crush on him, but he stopped hanging out with you guys once he got to high school. You didn’t really know much about him nowadays, since he usually kept to his room when you were over.
Wincing, you turned around slowly. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of Rafe towering over your boyfriend, his anger extremely evident on his face.
“You disgust me.” Rafe spat, fists clenching at his sides. “You really don’t know how lucky you are. Fucking idiot.”
By then, the room was definitely spinning. What the hell was happening?
“Oh, what, you have a crush on that slut now? Well you can have her, I never wanted her in the first place.” Topper barked, smirking and adjusting his stupid Polo shirt like he didn’t care at all about what he just did to you. Your throat stung at his words yet again. It was your birthday, you thought, heart sinking more and more with every second passing by.
Your eyes stayed fixated on the floor beneath you until you heard a loud noise. Glancing up, you inhaled sharply as you took in the sight of Rafe decking Topper across the face. By now, all the commotion had gathered a crowd, and everyone’s reactions were similar -- completely shocked. The fight didn’t last long, you guessed that Rafe was going easy on him, and pretty soon your best friend’s brother was headed out up the stairs, bruised knuckles and all, cursing like a sailor under his breath.
You had no idea what to do. Eyes traveling back and forth from Topper on the ground, to your friends all standing in shock, to Rafe walking away, your mind whirled. For some reason, your feet began to lead you up the stairs behind him, and before you knew it you were alone in your kitchen with Rafe Cameron.
He was facing away from you, tall frame bent over the sink, so you weren’t sure how to get his attention. After a moment’s hesitation, you faintly cleared your throat. Rafe’s shoulder’s stiffened, fully expecting it to be Topper behind him. He turned around, guns blazing, only to realize that it was you.
“Y/N,” The blonde boy sighed, relaxing his fists. “I don’t even know what to say. That kid is such a fucking prick, everyone knows it. I hope he feels embarrassed because he is an absolute moron for doing that--”
“Why did you do it?” You interrupted, eyes locked on his. Rafe stopped talking, furrowing his eyebrows as if he was surprised by your question.
“What do you mean, why did I do it?” He asked, genuinely confused. “I mean, you saw what I saw, right? He’s an absolute asshole, he deserved it.”
You felt a tug at your heart as you listened to Rafe’s explanation. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you knew it was a very different feeling from the sadness you had just experienced.
“But, why did you do it? You didn’t have to stick up for me, and you certainly didn’t have to fight him for me.”
Rafe gulped. He knew you were right, that he could have just minded his business like he usually would. But of course he didn’t. It was you.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to come up with the right words. “It’s not a big deal, really. I get in fights with people all the time. And he deserved it, so,” He shrugged, masking his true feelings with his words.
For some reason, a part of you felt disappointed that was all he said, but you weren’t sure what else you were expecting. You were talking to Rafe Cameron here, he wasn’t exactly known for his love and devotion.
“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for doing that. I should probably go find my friends.” You shrugged, trying not to let your disappointment show. Rafe only nodded at you as you slowly turned to go back downstairs.
You only got about five steps in before the familiar voice stopped you yet again, “Wait. That wasn’t true.”
“What?” A wave of an unfamiliar feeling washed over you, starting from your head and traveling all the way down your spine.
“Well, I mean, it was true. He did deserve it and I do fight people all the time. But that wasn’t why I did it. You’re not just anyone, Y/N. You’re you. How could I not defend you? Do you know how hard it’s been to sit there and watch him treat you like shit for the past year? The amount of times I’ve wished I could’ve said something? The times I’ve heard you crying to Sarah about him? I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first heard how much of a dick he was to you. I’m surprised it took me this long to do it, honestly.” Rafe’s blue eyes widened once he realized what he had just told you. He didn’t even want to look at your reaction, he couldn’t believe what he had just done. He had kept these feelings a secret for so long, and he was certain that everything would get messed up now that they were out in the open.
“But -- I still don’t understand. You’re Rafe Cameron. Why would you ever care about your little sister’s friend’s love life? You have so many bigger things to worry about, sometimes I thought you forgot I existed completely because I never saw you at the house, I thought you were always so busy. And, and… I didn’t even know you showed up tonight, I didn’t think you would because once again, you’re Rafe Cameron, and I mean yeah obviously I had the biggest crush on you for so long, who wouldn’t, and I just-”
Your babbling was cut off by the feeling of Rafe’s lips on yours. His hands grasped your cheeks, but it wasn’t full of lust like all your kisses with Topper used to be. It was full of honesty, of passion -- you completely lost yourself in him, one of his arms moving to lift you up onto the counter with ease, then returning to your cheek. It felt like an eternity before you both opened your eyes, and you swore you could feel your heart melting when you met his gaze.
‘W-what? Rafe, I don’t understand, I-” You stammered, completely shaken.
“You’re you, Y/N. I don’t really know how else to put it without sounding like an absolute cheese ball. It’s always been you. Even though I didn’t act like it.” The blonde sighed into your shoulder, picking up a strand of your hair and delicately twirling it around his finger.
“If this is just some sick game you guys are playing, I would appreciate it if you told me now so I can save myself even more embarrassment later.” You quipped, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short amount of time.
Rafe gave you a disgusted look. “That’s insulting, I would never do that to you. I know that I hang around those guys, but I’m not really like them. Now come here, let’s go downstairs and show that idiot what he’s missing.” He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you in for another kiss before placing his hand in yours and pulling you towards the stairs.
this will be updated as more writing gets published! (i’m currently a struggling high school student so i’m sorry for the lack of content posted but i am trying guys i swear) (requests are always appreciated and sometimes help me to write faster so please feel free to send them in!!)
in which it's your birthday and your boyfriend is a prick.
INSPIRED BY 'SINGLE' BY THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.
warnings: mentions of cheating, underage drinking, violence + some fluff :)
pronouns: she/her
word count: 2.7k
a/n: hi everyone! i haven't written in so long but obx season 2 inspired me to start again. if anyone sees this, i hope you enjoy! also, i will probably turn this into a series if people want me to. have a great day & thank you for reading :-)
It was no secret that you were too good for Topper Thornton. The whole island knew it, from the Cut to Figure 8. It was pretty obvious every time you two went out together that people disapproved of your relationship. Your boyfriend didn’t exactly have the greatest of reputations, even among his so-called “friends” from school. You didn’t blame everyone, though. Topper seemed to only come around when it was convenient for him -- i.e. when he needed help on his algebra homework, wanted a quick hookup, or his other friends were busy. He never invited you on dates, and the few times you’ve initiated a dinner together, you were always the one who footed the bill at the end of the night. It’s not even like you minded spending the money (although his family had way more than yours), it was just the principle of it all. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the kid just didn’t care about you enough.
Another quality characteristic of your charming boyfriend: he had a tendency to get shitfaced quite often. You drank at parties, too, but never on his level, and whenever you tried to talk to him about it, he just told you to leave him alone.
At this point, you weren’t even sure why you kept putting up with it anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time Topper made you happy, or even smile. For heaven’s sake, the kid forgot it was your birthday this morning until you reminded him. Never in a million years did you think you’d have to text your own boyfriend and remind him that it was your birthday. Even then, the best he could offer was a measly text message, not even a phone call.
Your birthday was the whole reason why everyone was at your house tonight. Despite your incessant protesting, your friends threw you a party and invited basically the whole island over to your place. One good thing was that you were lucky in that you had friends from both social groups. You had met Pope in your AP History class sophomore year, and he introduced you to the rest of his friends: John B, JJ, and Kiara. Your best friend in the entire world, though, was Sarah Cameron. Ward and your father had been business partners ever since you guys were babies, so you spent a lot of time together growing up and had been inseparable ever since. The number of nights you’d spent at Tanneyhill, giggling with Sarah and running away after pranking her brother, were too many to count.
Even though you were more of an introvert, you were secretly thankful to have this temporary distraction from your disaster of a relationship. Being with your friends, plus a little bit of liquid courage, took your mind away from your worries. Well, more like your one massive worry that was Topper.
You’d spent the majority of the night so far greeting everyone and thanking them for their birthday wishes. Talking to everyone was fun, but you couldn’t help but feel sad that your boyfriend had only offered you a nod when he showed up an hour late. He didn’t even come over and give you a hug. Was it really that hard?
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” You heard from behind you, jolting you out of your thoughts, causing you to put your drink down and quickly turn around. Before you could even look up, you were completely engulfed in a hug by Sarah. She was giggling -- she definitely wasn’t sober, but her happiness made you crack a smile.
“Thanks, Sar.” You grinned at her after she released you from her embrace.
“How has your night been so far? Did we do a good job?” Sarah asked you, taking another sip from her red Solo cup.
Biting your cheek, you resisted the urge to burst into tears over Topper. Instead, you just grinned some more, “Oh, the best.”
(Un)lucky for you, your best friend wasn’t an idiot. You might have not said anything, but the look on your face said it all. She could immediately tell that something was off. If it was that douchebag again... she swore.
“You’re sure everything’s alright? Do you need to talk about anything?”
Her question nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. It took everything in you to keep it all in, but somehow you managed to do it. Now was not the time or place for you to unleash all of your baggage on her. You just wanted to, for once, enjoy your night without worrying about your mess of a boyfriend.
“Yep, promise,” You replied, squeezing her arm. “Just getting kinda bored standing here. Wanna play beer pong?”
Sarah knew you weren’t being honest, but she didn’t want to push it any further -- at least for now. Instead, she nodded enthusiastically at your proposition before running off to assemble teams. In the meantime, you scanned the room for Topper. You hadn’t seen him since he got here, which wasn’t unusual, but a small part of you still wished things were different. Like how they used to be.
Eyes bouncing from person to person, Kook to Pogue, you were growing frustrated. Your basement wasn’t even that big -- where could he possibly have gone?
Your train of thought was soon interrupted when Sarah came bounding back into the room, making a beeline for you. Unbeknownst to you, she was trying to protect you from what she had just seen. Cursing under her breath, she swore that one day she would get revenge on that stupid guy, but for now she would just have to distract you.
“Hey, S, did you find enough players?” You asked, oblivious, when you saw your friend making her way towards you. “I was thinking me and you could be a team, and maybe Pope and JJ, or--”
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks when she saw your mouth hang open, your sentence cut in half. Suddenly, the room started to spin and your hands felt clammy. Raising one hand to your forehead, you didn’t even care that your drink spilled all over your shoes beneath you.
Well, you found Topper. With a girl wrapped around him, shoved into a corner of your own basement doing God knows what for God knows how long.
Sarah reached out to grab your arm, but you easily shook out of her grasp. You didn’t think twice before approaching him, grabbing a random cup out of someone’s hands, and pouring it right over his head.
Topper quickly looked up, confused, until he met your burning gaze. His mouth opened in an ‘O’, and it looked like he was about to come up with some bullshit excuse, but you cut him off before he could get any words out.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Topper winced, before looking at the girl and then looking back at you. His momentary regret quickly faded as he chuckled nonchalantly. “You know what, Y/N, go to hell.” Topper’s drunken words sliced through the air, the combination of tension and humidity making the room feel way warmer than it was. “Like, seriously. I’m so fucking sick of you. Always making a problem of everything. Can’t ever let a man do his thing.” His insults, although slurred, cut right through you like a knife. You were used to him getting drunk and acting mean, but it was never like this. Never this bad.
“Do your thing? You mean making out with random Tourons right in front of my face? On my birthday?” You tried your hardest not to let your voice break. The last thing you wanted was for him to know how badly he was hurting you. As if he would even care, anyways.
“It’s not my fault that you can’t give me what I need.” Topper smirked, tightening his grip on the random girl’s waist. You could actually feel your stomach churn at his awful words. The tears welled up in your eyes and it took everything inside of you not to break down in front of him. That was the last thing you wanted to happen -- to give him even more satisfaction. Pulling your top lip in between your teeth, you spun on your heel to turn around and find a quiet room to have your breakdown in.
You only got about two steps away, though, before you heard a voice behind you. “What the fuck is your problem, man?”
Rafe.
You didn’t even know he was here. He must have shown up late. Why was he here?
“How screwed up are you, Top? You’re at your girlfriend’s goddamn birthday party and you pull this shit? There a screw loose up there or something?” His ring-clad hands gestured to Topper’s head and his words were laced with venom. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Rafe was your best friend’s older brother -- when you and Sarah were younger, you had the biggest crush on him, but he stopped hanging out with you guys once he got to high school. You didn’t really know much about him nowadays, since he usually kept to his room when you were over.
Wincing, you turned around slowly. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of Rafe towering over your boyfriend, his anger extremely evident on his face.
“You disgust me.” Rafe spat, fists clenching at his sides. “You really don’t know how lucky you are. Fucking idiot.”
By then, the room was definitely spinning. What the hell was happening?
“Oh, what, you have a crush on that slut now? Well you can have her, I never wanted her in the first place.” Topper barked, smirking and adjusting his stupid Polo shirt like he didn’t care at all about what he just did to you. Your throat stung at his words yet again. It was your birthday, you thought, heart sinking more and more with every second passing by.
Your eyes stayed fixated on the floor beneath you until you heard a loud noise. Glancing up, you inhaled sharply as you took in the sight of Rafe decking Topper across the face. By now, all the commotion had gathered a crowd, and everyone’s reactions were similar -- completely shocked. The fight didn’t last long, you guessed that Rafe was going easy on him, and pretty soon your best friend’s brother was headed out up the stairs, bruised knuckles and all, cursing like a sailor under his breath.
You had no idea what to do. Eyes traveling back and forth from Topper on the ground, to your friends all standing in shock, to Rafe walking away, your mind whirled. For some reason, your feet began to lead you up the stairs behind him, and before you knew it you were alone in your kitchen with Rafe Cameron.
He was facing away from you, tall frame bent over the sink, so you weren’t sure how to get his attention. After a moment’s hesitation, you faintly cleared your throat. Rafe’s shoulder’s stiffened, fully expecting it to be Topper behind him. He turned around, guns blazing, only to realize that it was you.
“Y/N,” The blonde boy sighed, relaxing his fists. “I don’t even know what to say. That kid is such a fucking prick, everyone knows it. I hope he feels embarrassed because he is an absolute moron for doing that--”
“Why did you do it?” You interrupted, eyes locked on his. Rafe stopped talking, furrowing his eyebrows as if he was surprised by your question.
“What do you mean, why did I do it?” He asked, genuinely confused. “I mean, you saw what I saw, right? He’s an absolute asshole, he deserved it.”
You felt a tug at your heart as you listened to Rafe’s explanation. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you knew it was a very different feeling from the sadness you had just experienced.
“But, why did you do it? You didn’t have to stick up for me, and you certainly didn’t have to fight him for me.”
Rafe gulped. He knew you were right, that he could have just minded his business like he usually would. But of course he didn’t. It was you.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to come up with the right words. “It’s not a big deal, really. I get in fights with people all the time. And he deserved it, so,” He shrugged, masking his true feelings with his words.
For some reason, a part of you felt disappointed that was all he said, but you weren’t sure what else you were expecting. You were talking to Rafe Cameron here, he wasn’t exactly known for his love and devotion.
“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for doing that. I should probably go find my friends.” You shrugged, trying not to let your disappointment show. Rafe only nodded at you as you slowly turned to go back downstairs.
You only got about five steps in before the familiar voice stopped you yet again, “Wait. That wasn’t true.”
“What?” A wave of an unfamiliar feeling washed over you, starting from your head and traveling all the way down your spine.
“Well, I mean, it was true. He did deserve it and I do fight people all the time. But that wasn’t why I did it. You’re not just anyone, Y/N. You’re you. How could I not defend you? Do you know how hard it’s been to sit there and watch him treat you like shit for the past year? The amount of times I’ve wished I could’ve said something? The times I’ve heard you crying to Sarah about him? I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first heard how much of a dick he was to you. I’m surprised it took me this long to do it, honestly.” Rafe’s blue eyes widened once he realized what he had just told you. He didn’t even want to look at your reaction, he couldn’t believe what he had just done. He had kept these feelings a secret for so long, and he was certain that everything would get messed up now that they were out in the open.
“But -- I still don’t understand. You’re Rafe Cameron. Why would you ever care about your little sister’s friend’s love life? You have so many bigger things to worry about, sometimes I thought you forgot I existed completely because I never saw you at the house, I thought you were always so busy. And, and… I didn’t even know you showed up tonight, I didn’t think you would because once again, you’re Rafe Cameron, and I mean yeah obviously I had the biggest crush on you for so long, who wouldn’t, and I just-”
Your babbling was cut off by the feeling of Rafe’s lips on yours. His hands grasped your cheeks, but it wasn’t full of lust like all your kisses with Topper used to be. It was full of honesty, of passion -- you completely lost yourself in him, one of his arms moving to lift you up onto the counter with ease, then returning to your cheek. It felt like an eternity before you both opened your eyes, and you swore you could feel your heart melting when you met his gaze.
‘W-what? Rafe, I don’t understand, I-” You stammered, completely shaken.
“You’re you, Y/N. I don’t really know how else to put it without sounding like an absolute cheese ball. It’s always been you. Even though I didn’t act like it.” The blonde sighed into your shoulder, picking up a strand of your hair and delicately twirling it around his finger.
“If this is just some sick game you guys are playing, I would appreciate it if you told me now so I can save myself even more embarrassment later.” You quipped, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short amount of time.
Rafe gave you a disgusted look. “That’s insulting, I would never do that to you. I know that I hang around those guys, but I’m not really like them. Now come here, let’s go downstairs and show that idiot what he’s missing.” He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you in for another kiss before placing his hand in yours and pulling you towards the stairs.
in which it's your birthday and your boyfriend is a prick.
INSPIRED BY 'SINGLE' BY THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.
warnings: mentions of cheating, underage drinking, violence + some fluff :)
pronouns: she/her
word count: 2.7k
a/n: hi everyone! i haven't written in so long but obx season 2 inspired me to start again. if anyone sees this, i hope you enjoy! also, i will probably turn this into a series if people want me to. have a great day & thank you for reading :-)
It was no secret that you were too good for Topper Thornton. The whole island knew it, from the Cut to Figure 8. It was pretty obvious every time you two went out together that people disapproved of your relationship. Your boyfriend didn’t exactly have the greatest of reputations, even among his so-called “friends” from school. You didn’t blame everyone, though. Topper seemed to only come around when it was convenient for him -- i.e. when he needed help on his algebra homework, wanted a quick hookup, or his other friends were busy. He never invited you on dates, and the few times you’ve initiated a dinner together, you were always the one who footed the bill at the end of the night. It’s not even like you minded spending the money (although his family had way more than yours), it was just the principle of it all. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the kid just didn’t care about you enough.
Another quality characteristic of your charming boyfriend: he had a tendency to get shitfaced quite often. You drank at parties, too, but never on his level, and whenever you tried to talk to him about it, he just told you to leave him alone.
At this point, you weren’t even sure why you kept putting up with it anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time Topper made you happy, or even smile. For heaven’s sake, the kid forgot it was your birthday this morning until you reminded him. Never in a million years did you think you’d have to text your own boyfriend and remind him that it was your birthday. Even then, the best he could offer was a measly text message, not even a phone call.
Your birthday was the whole reason why everyone was at your house tonight. Despite your incessant protesting, your friends threw you a party and invited basically the whole island over to your place. One good thing was that you were lucky in that you had friends from both social groups. You had met Pope in your AP History class sophomore year, and he introduced you to the rest of his friends: John B, JJ, and Kiara. Your best friend in the entire world, though, was Sarah Cameron. Ward and your father had been business partners ever since you guys were babies, so you spent a lot of time together growing up and had been inseparable ever since. The number of nights you’d spent at Tanneyhill, giggling with Sarah and running away after pranking her brother, were too many to count.
Even though you were more of an introvert, you were secretly thankful to have this temporary distraction from your disaster of a relationship. Being with your friends, plus a little bit of liquid courage, took your mind away from your worries. Well, more like your one massive worry that was Topper.
You’d spent the majority of the night so far greeting everyone and thanking them for their birthday wishes. Talking to everyone was fun, but you couldn’t help but feel sad that your boyfriend had only offered you a nod when he showed up an hour late. He didn’t even come over and give you a hug. Was it really that hard?
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” You heard from behind you, jolting you out of your thoughts, causing you to put your drink down and quickly turn around. Before you could even look up, you were completely engulfed in a hug by Sarah. She was giggling -- she definitely wasn’t sober, but her happiness made you crack a smile.
“Thanks, Sar.” You grinned at her after she released you from her embrace.
“How has your night been so far? Did we do a good job?” Sarah asked you, taking another sip from her red Solo cup.
Biting your cheek, you resisted the urge to burst into tears over Topper. Instead, you just grinned some more, “Oh, the best.”
(Un)lucky for you, your best friend wasn’t an idiot. You might have not said anything, but the look on your face said it all. She could immediately tell that something was off. If it was that douchebag again... she swore.
“You’re sure everything’s alright? Do you need to talk about anything?”
Her question nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. It took everything in you to keep it all in, but somehow you managed to do it. Now was not the time or place for you to unleash all of your baggage on her. You just wanted to, for once, enjoy your night without worrying about your mess of a boyfriend.
“Yep, promise,” You replied, squeezing her arm. “Just getting kinda bored standing here. Wanna play beer pong?”
Sarah knew you weren’t being honest, but she didn’t want to push it any further -- at least for now. Instead, she nodded enthusiastically at your proposition before running off to assemble teams. In the meantime, you scanned the room for Topper. You hadn’t seen him since he got here, which wasn’t unusual, but a small part of you still wished things were different. Like how they used to be.
Eyes bouncing from person to person, Kook to Pogue, you were growing frustrated. Your basement wasn’t even that big -- where could he possibly have gone?
Your train of thought was soon interrupted when Sarah came bounding back into the room, making a beeline for you. Unbeknownst to you, she was trying to protect you from what she had just seen. Cursing under her breath, she swore that one day she would get revenge on that stupid guy, but for now she would just have to distract you.
“Hey, S, did you find enough players?” You asked, oblivious, when you saw your friend making her way towards you. “I was thinking me and you could be a team, and maybe Pope and JJ, or--”
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks when she saw your mouth hang open, your sentence cut in half. Suddenly, the room started to spin and your hands felt clammy. Raising one hand to your forehead, you didn’t even care that your drink spilled all over your shoes beneath you.
Well, you found Topper. With a girl wrapped around him, shoved into a corner of your own basement doing God knows what for God knows how long.
Sarah reached out to grab your arm, but you easily shook out of her grasp. You didn’t think twice before approaching him, grabbing a random cup out of someone’s hands, and pouring it right over his head.
Topper quickly looked up, confused, until he met your burning gaze. His mouth opened in an ‘O’, and it looked like he was about to come up with some bullshit excuse, but you cut him off before he could get any words out.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Topper winced, before looking at the girl and then looking back at you. His momentary regret quickly faded as he chuckled nonchalantly. “You know what, Y/N, go to hell.” Topper’s drunken words sliced through the air, the combination of tension and humidity making the room feel way warmer than it was. “Like, seriously. I’m so fucking sick of you. Always making a problem of everything. Can’t ever let a man do his thing.” His insults, although slurred, cut right through you like a knife. You were used to him getting drunk and acting mean, but it was never like this. Never this bad.
“Do your thing? You mean making out with random Tourons right in front of my face? On my birthday?” You tried your hardest not to let your voice break. The last thing you wanted was for him to know how badly he was hurting you. As if he would even care, anyways.
“It’s not my fault that you can’t give me what I need.” Topper smirked, tightening his grip on the random girl’s waist. You could actually feel your stomach churn at his awful words. The tears welled up in your eyes and it took everything inside of you not to break down in front of him. That was the last thing you wanted to happen -- to give him even more satisfaction. Pulling your top lip in between your teeth, you spun on your heel to turn around and find a quiet room to have your breakdown in.
You only got about two steps away, though, before you heard a voice behind you. “What the fuck is your problem, man?”
Rafe.
You didn’t even know he was here. He must have shown up late. Why was he here?
“How screwed up are you, Top? You’re at your girlfriend’s goddamn birthday party and you pull this shit? There a screw loose up there or something?” His ring-clad hands gestured to Topper’s head and his words were laced with venom. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Rafe was your best friend’s older brother -- when you and Sarah were younger, you had the biggest crush on him, but he stopped hanging out with you guys once he got to high school. You didn’t really know much about him nowadays, since he usually kept to his room when you were over.
Wincing, you turned around slowly. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of Rafe towering over your boyfriend, his anger extremely evident on his face.
“You disgust me.” Rafe spat, fists clenching at his sides. “You really don’t know how lucky you are. Fucking idiot.”
By then, the room was definitely spinning. What the hell was happening?
“Oh, what, you have a crush on that slut now? Well you can have her, I never wanted her in the first place.” Topper barked, smirking and adjusting his stupid Polo shirt like he didn’t care at all about what he just did to you. Your throat stung at his words yet again. It was your birthday, you thought, heart sinking more and more with every second passing by.
Your eyes stayed fixated on the floor beneath you until you heard a loud noise. Glancing up, you inhaled sharply as you took in the sight of Rafe decking Topper across the face. By now, all the commotion had gathered a crowd, and everyone’s reactions were similar -- completely shocked. The fight didn’t last long, you guessed that Rafe was going easy on him, and pretty soon your best friend’s brother was headed out up the stairs, bruised knuckles and all, cursing like a sailor under his breath.
You had no idea what to do. Eyes traveling back and forth from Topper on the ground, to your friends all standing in shock, to Rafe walking away, your mind whirled. For some reason, your feet began to lead you up the stairs behind him, and before you knew it you were alone in your kitchen with Rafe Cameron.
He was facing away from you, tall frame bent over the sink, so you weren’t sure how to get his attention. After a moment’s hesitation, you faintly cleared your throat. Rafe’s shoulder’s stiffened, fully expecting it to be Topper behind him. He turned around, guns blazing, only to realize that it was you.
“Y/N,” The blonde boy sighed, relaxing his fists. “I don’t even know what to say. That kid is such a fucking prick, everyone knows it. I hope he feels embarrassed because he is an absolute moron for doing that--”
“Why did you do it?” You interrupted, eyes locked on his. Rafe stopped talking, furrowing his eyebrows as if he was surprised by your question.
“What do you mean, why did I do it?” He asked, genuinely confused. “I mean, you saw what I saw, right? He’s an absolute asshole, he deserved it.”
You felt a tug at your heart as you listened to Rafe’s explanation. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you knew it was a very different feeling from the sadness you had just experienced.
“But, why did you do it? You didn’t have to stick up for me, and you certainly didn’t have to fight him for me.”
Rafe gulped. He knew you were right, that he could have just minded his business like he usually would. But of course he didn’t. It was you.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to come up with the right words. “It’s not a big deal, really. I get in fights with people all the time. And he deserved it, so,” He shrugged, masking his true feelings with his words.
For some reason, a part of you felt disappointed that was all he said, but you weren’t sure what else you were expecting. You were talking to Rafe Cameron here, he wasn’t exactly known for his love and devotion.
“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for doing that. I should probably go find my friends.” You shrugged, trying not to let your disappointment show. Rafe only nodded at you as you slowly turned to go back downstairs.
You only got about five steps in before the familiar voice stopped you yet again, “Wait. That wasn’t true.”
“What?” A wave of an unfamiliar feeling washed over you, starting from your head and traveling all the way down your spine.
“Well, I mean, it was true. He did deserve it and I do fight people all the time. But that wasn’t why I did it. You’re not just anyone, Y/N. You’re you. How could I not defend you? Do you know how hard it’s been to sit there and watch him treat you like shit for the past year? The amount of times I’ve wished I could’ve said something? The times I’ve heard you crying to Sarah about him? I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first heard how much of a dick he was to you. I’m surprised it took me this long to do it, honestly.” Rafe’s blue eyes widened once he realized what he had just told you. He didn’t even want to look at your reaction, he couldn’t believe what he had just done. He had kept these feelings a secret for so long, and he was certain that everything would get messed up now that they were out in the open.
“But -- I still don’t understand. You’re Rafe Cameron. Why would you ever care about your little sister’s friend’s love life? You have so many bigger things to worry about, sometimes I thought you forgot I existed completely because I never saw you at the house, I thought you were always so busy. And, and… I didn’t even know you showed up tonight, I didn’t think you would because once again, you’re Rafe Cameron, and I mean yeah obviously I had the biggest crush on you for so long, who wouldn’t, and I just-”
Your babbling was cut off by the feeling of Rafe’s lips on yours. His hands grasped your cheeks, but it wasn’t full of lust like all your kisses with Topper used to be. It was full of honesty, of passion -- you completely lost yourself in him, one of his arms moving to lift you up onto the counter with ease, then returning to your cheek. It felt like an eternity before you both opened your eyes, and you swore you could feel your heart melting when you met his gaze.
‘W-what? Rafe, I don’t understand, I-” You stammered, completely shaken.
“You’re you, Y/N. I don’t really know how else to put it without sounding like an absolute cheese ball. It’s always been you. Even though I didn’t act like it.” The blonde sighed into your shoulder, picking up a strand of your hair and delicately twirling it around his finger.
“If this is just some sick game you guys are playing, I would appreciate it if you told me now so I can save myself even more embarrassment later.” You quipped, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short amount of time.
Rafe gave you a disgusted look. “That’s insulting, I would never do that to you. I know that I hang around those guys, but I’m not really like them. Now come here, let’s go downstairs and show that idiot what he’s missing.” He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you in for another kiss before placing his hand in yours and pulling you towards the stairs.
The food was tainted with and contains euthanasia.
Source: (x)
A bunch of dogs, including my own, eat Gravy Train. It’s a very affordable wet canned dog food, so many people buy it. and my dog has to eat it because she’s lost most of her teeth and can’t chew.
Please, SIGNAL BOOST THIS!
Even if you don’t have a dog, your followers probably do, and plenty of them are at risk.
You could save a life.
The food was tainted with and contains euthanasia.
Source: (x)
A bunch of dogs, including my own, eat Gravy Train. It’s a very affordable wet canned dog food, so many people buy it. and my dog has to eat it because she’s lost most of her teeth and can’t chew.
Please, SIGNAL BOOST THIS!
Even if you don’t have a dog, your followers probably do, and plenty of them are at risk.
You could save a life.
Hi! Just as a warning, if any of you all plan to see Deadpool, there are some pretty heavy suicide themes to the film. They are NOT treated as a joke in any manner, in fact it’s taken (for a Deadpool film) quite seriously, but I wanted to warn you all in advance that there is a scene in which a character attempts suicide and makes references throughout the film about wanting to die. I do think the movie is very much worth seeing, but I wanted to share because this matter is quite upsetting and triggering to many and I thought a warning was in order.
Putting in your earphones so hopefully no random men try to talk to/harass you but not actually playing music so you can listen for footsteps/other suspicious noises behind you.
feeling like someone is following you and subtly shifting whatever object you’re holding into a better grip so you can use it as a bludgeon if the person behind you tries anything
thor is that chad looking dude pathetic men try to say is the enemy and he’s always sort of messing around in class so u think he’s sort of an ass but one night you end up at the same party as him and find out he’s the DD for everyone there. He makes 15 trips. He carries four grown men into their dorms on his shoulders and makes sure they pass out on their sides so they’re safe but not until he makes all of them drink a glass of water.
then he asks everyone else who’s still conscious if they want to go to steak n’ shake before the night ends. he pays for all the shakes.
tangentwithtanner
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
andulkaphoto
germansingergirl
