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4urvalidation · 2 months ago

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EASIER THAN LYING | Chapter Two

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A/N: I say this is dark!Rafe, but in reality he is the goofiest version of himself that you have ever seen. I jest. The dark! part comes with his past and his actions and everything else that makes Rafe - Rafe. I also really enjoyed writing and exploring his relationship with Sofia a little bit more as well as y'know - giving her character an ounce of personality (something the Pates failed to do in the show)

One more thing! I'm also going to publish this on AO3 so in case you're enjoying it and feeling extra generous, please go on over and show the fic some love 🥺

T/W: Explicit sexual content, dirty talk and praise kink. Mentions of drugs and alcohol as well as implications of murder. Or crimes as such.

RAFE

She cut her hair.

That’s the first thing that comes to mind when I see her.

And then, I look at her boyfriend. He’s a tall and lanky dude of around 5 '11 with shoulder length unkempt dirty blond hair and a baby face. I stare at him from across the room and then I look down at Sofia - her slight build and perky tits and almost immediately, like she knows I’ve been gaping at her, she looks up at me.

“Babe, smile.” I do as I’m told. Not because I want to but because doing exactly what my girl tells me, helps me earn brownie points and lately, that’s the only way I can convince her into letting me do stuff.

Sex stuff.

Which is weird. I never had to try this hard with Trudy.

All I had to do with her is just show up and she’ll be right there on her knees sucking me off until my eyes have practically rolled themselves to the back of my head.

Sofia on the other hand… well, Sofia is different.

She likes our sex to be slow and gentle, just like she likes me best when I’m slow and gentle and not crashing out at the tiniest fucking thing. But then again, Sofia doesn’t know me the way Trudy once did.

A good thing, I remind myself.

“Hey stranger.” I shoot Trudy a smile the second she and her hipster boyfriend find themselves in front of me and Sofia. She flinches; her face drawn into a grimace I’m very familiar with. “Long time no see.” I’m grinning now, arm stretched and snaking around her bare shoulders. When I pull her towards me, her entire body stiffens as if we had never done this before. As if we are actual fucking strangers. As if I had never made her scream my name. Over and over and over and-

“I’m Charlie.” Hipster boyfriend shoves his skinny large palm in my face and I stare at it. His eyes are a strange shade of muddy green; downcast, but happy - the kind only a spoiled Labrador would have. I shake his hand. His smile grows wider. “Tru’s told me a lot about you.”

I shoot Tru a look. “Has she now? What kinds of things exactly?”

Trudy rolls her eyes and I bite down a laugh.

Fuck I’ve missed her.

Missed her hands, missed her smell, missed her lips-

“I’m Sofia.”

Fuck.

Right.

“My girlfriend.” I clear my throat and glance at her. She doesn’t seem too upset. Yet.

“I take it Rafe hasn’t told you anything about me?” Trudy deadpans and I almost choke on my drink.

Sofia pats my back. Gently. “No, no - he has. He’s told me a lot of things. About you.” She says sweetly in the kind of way only a sweet girl like herself can and then looks at me - angry, pointedly - because clearly that was a fucking lie and I should’ve told her about Trudy and the two years we spent fucking our brains out.

Shit.

I wonder just how many brownie points this is gonna cost.

The pre-wedding brunch nonsense goes as much one would expect. Sarah’s useless fiance tries way too hard to be Kook, Sarah keeps on blabbering about how excited and in love she is, dad keeps nodding away and smiling like he actually wants his favorite girl to marry a Pogue, Rose keeps sending back orders and Wheezie… Wheezie is just there until Sofia notices her quiet and starts asking her about school.

Not a great topic - by the way - considering how Wheezie’s grades have been less than stellar this year and she stopped talking to the only friend she’s ever had, but at least someone is finally paying her attention, so she beams. Seeing Wheezie happy makes me happy. That’s just how we work and I sit there, looking at them - my favorite girls - until I notice Trudy silently excuse herself from the table.

I know I shouldn’t do it - nothing good has ever come out from the two of us meeting alone in secluded places, but she’s been ignoring me all day and I need to know what her fucking deal is.

That and why the fuck she’s blocked me from everywhere.

“Jesus, you scared me.” Trudy yelps when she catches me standing in front of the bathroom she’s just come out of. I grin. She grimaces. “No. I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever you seem to have in mind.”

“But my mind’s pretty blank right now.”

She rolls her eyes.

My grin grows wider.

“I just wanna talk, Tru.”

“Don’t call me that.” Trudy barks.

“What? Tru?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s such a good nickname.”

“I know. But it’s not yours.”

I can’t stop staring at her scowl; at the way it makes her lips all pouty and kissable and shit. So I move forward - just a tiny little step towards her, enough so I can smell her flowery perfume, “Tsk, I don’t think my girl’s gonna appreciate it if I call you after the one I gave you, Sweetheart.”

Trudy rolls her eyes, gets ready to leave, but then stops. Turns. I don’t like the way she’s looking back at me. It’s the same look she gave me when that happened.

“There’s something you need to know.” She says suddenly and my heart skips a beat. “This guy, Patrick Hahn something… he uh, he’s investigating Sheriff Peterkin’s murder.” My blood runs cold. I haven’t heard that name in years. For some stupid reason a part of me thought I would never hear about it again. And yet…

“What is he, like a P.I or something?” I croak.

“No. He’s a podcaster.”

“The fuck?”

“I know, I know… I thought the same thing at first, but he’s a really good one. I’ve… I’ve actually been listening to some of his episodes and… Rafe, this guy… he knows his stuff.”

I stare at her. I wanna say something; something that’s gonna make this whole entire thing not sound so fucking stupid, but nothing comes to mind. Like - how can a fucking podcaster solve a murder? And an unsolvable one at that?

“So what? You think he can do it?” I ask finally and there goes my voice again - shaking like I’m going through puberty.

Trudy shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno.”

“Shit.” I curse under my breath. “Shit, shit, shit.” And then slam my open palm against the wall because if I do so with the fist it might cause a ruckus and the last thing I need right now is dad yelling at me about how I’ve ruined his perfect little girl’s moment. “We’re fucked. Trudy we’re so fucking fucked.”

I’m pacing. Hands buzzing, ears buzzing and I so desperately need a fucking drink or two or three and a whole strip of valium or maybe lorazepam or whatever Rose has suddenly decided to keep in her stupid little medicine cabinet. I jab my fingers in my head; I feel like I’m going to die - which isn’t new - I almost always feel like I am going to die, it comes with the job, but not like this. Never like this.

“Rafe… Rafe baby what’s wrong? What’s going on with him?” I hear Sofia call out for, but she sounds like she’s so far away. Like she’s out there - safely tucked away on the surface while I am underwater and drowning.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.” Trudy. Oh Trudy. Oh baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry for dragging you into my shit-

I wake up in a room. My old room and very quickly realize that Sofia is right there - inches away from the bed; body looking perfect in that bright orange dress and head turned towards the window. She’s looking at the ocean - something she can never do from our apartment or the shack she once used to call home. I feel myself getting tender suddenly. I want to pull her towards me, kiss her neck and face and tell her just how much she fucking means to me, but something keeps me tethered to the bed.

We are so fucking fucked.

“Oh, you’re up.” Sofia beams the moment she notices I am awake and practically skips towards me. “I was so worried, baby. How are you feeling?”

Good question - how am I feeling?

Well, first of all, I have never ever before passed out from a panic attack. Second, I really don’t fucking know. Uneasy, maybe. Scared, most definitely. But I can’t tell her that. I can never tell Sofia that because Sofia doesn’t know what I’ve done.

I watch her slide her perfect little body towards me; scooting herself right where I need her the most and inhale. She smells like vanilla and roses and I want to devour her right then and there. I start touching her like that - gently sliding my fingers over her bare arms and shoulders; pressing my lips on the nape of her neck before cupping one of her tits.

“Rafe,” She squeals, laughing, “Your parents are downstairs.”

“Better keep quiet then.”

I realize the panic attack has helped me earn back all of my brownie points; even the ones most times I have to work trice as hard for. Sofia lets me fuck her from behind - raw and hard and honest, just the way I like. Our clothes stay on (Boo!) but at least she isn’t complaining about the whole no condom thing.

I can’t stop touching her - her thighs, her tits, her neck, her hair - and she’s so soft, so sweet and small and perfect, I want to disappear inside of her. Nothing like the way Trudy was when we used to fuck. But then again, Trudy and Sofia are completely different people.

Sofia makes me work for it.

Trudy just let me.

“Look at you… fuck… look how good and tight you are. And so desperate. So fucking desperate for my cock. Tell me baby… tell me you’re desperate for my cock. Tell me please.”

“Rafe…” Sofia moans. “You know I don’t like that.”

“I know baby, but please… please tell me…” I thrust into her softer, just the way she likes; coaxing and buttering her up for the real thing and there she is - relaxing under my touch, under my lips-

“I’m so desperate for your cock.”

“Yeah you are.” I smile against her shoulder. “Good girl. You are such a good girl.” Suddenly I realize I’m speaking to her in the same way I used to speak to Trudy. Praising her. Teasing her. Making her beg for it. Except, Sofia never really begs for it. It’s always the other way around, so just out of curiosity, I slip myself out of her - eagerly waiting for her reaction, but all she does is hum.

“That’s it?” She turns, looking at me with those stunning little doe eyes and I almost bust one out right then and there.

“No.” I say sternly. Or at least, I try to. “I’m not putting it back in until you tell me you want it. Tell me you’re desperate for my cock.”

Sofia looks at me. Then, she furrows her brows, “I just told you…-”

“No. Not like that. Tell me you really want it.”

She straightens. Her purple bra is peeking from underneath her dress and I wanna pull it off her body with my teeth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just… I like it when you beg for me.”

Sofia purses her lips, something she always does when she is considering something and it feels like it’s taking her ages, but when she finally says it I am so happy I want to do a cartwheel. “Please baby… please, please, please put your big, throbbing cock inside me. Like that?”

“Yes, yes - just like that.” I make her beg some more. Slide her pretty panties to the side and soak my fingers into her perfect wet cunt. And boy is her cunt wet. Dripping really and it takes all three of my fingers with such ease, I have to stop and remind myself just how badly I want to be inside her again.

I vigorously slide my desperate aching cock against her sopping folds; soaking it with her want before slamming it inside her throbbing wet pussy. Sofia yelps - loud and deliciously clear - and I have no other choice but to slap a palm against that pretty mouth of hers.

She feels so good; better than ever and I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Fucking her gets me high. Makes me feel high and as long as I have her in my life I don’t need another drug. Well, that’s a lie. I still need drugs. To act. To forget. To cope.

I flip Sofia on her stomach, hand still tightly pressed against her mouth, “You’re doing so good baby. Taking my cock so well. Just like the perfect good girl that you are.” And she is. She really is the most perfect girl. Despite the pouting and the complaining and the way she always makes me put a lot more effort into things. Into her.

When I first met her - almost a year ago at the yacht club - I thought I’d found myself another Trudy. She was kind, soft spoken and sweet. The exact kind of girl that completely melts when you tell her she is beautiful right after successfully tricking her into believing you’re not like the other guys. Once that happened, it didn’t take a lot of effort to get her out of that little uniform and straight into my bed.

What took a lot of effort was me trying to convince her into going at it for a second round, to which she boastfully said, “I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. If you want to fuck me again, you better take me out to dinner.”

So I did.

And here we are.

Fucking like teenagers in my childhood bedroom.

When I come - hard and deep inside her - her name is the first thing I slur against the crook of her neck.

“What did you call me?” She says, eyes wide with surprise.

Opening my mouth, I blink at her, but no words come out.

I don’t think I remember, is almost what I’m gonna say but manage to stop myself before it’s too late.

“Huh?”

“You said Rue.”

“What?”

“Who the fuck is Rue, Rafe?”

Trudy.

Gertrude.

Rue.

I call her that because she always fucking ruins everything.

“Are you sure you heard me right?”

“I have ears don’t I?”

I blink at her again.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I know that you do Rafe! Who the fuck is-”

“That’s what I said. When I nutted inside you. I told you: I fucking love you.”

Now it’s Sofia’s turn to blink.

Her mouth does that pouty thing again.

And then she scrunches her nose, “Ew don’t say you nutted inside me. It’s gross.”

“Okay, baby.” She looks at me - all gold and shimmering - and fuck, I really do fucking love her.

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#rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x oc #original character #dark!rafe smut #dark!rafe x oc #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fic #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe x sofia

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4urvalidation · 2 months ago

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EASIER THAN LYING | MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON || FULL SUMMARY || TRUDY JOVOVICH

PAIRING: dark!bsf!rafe x oc!character

TROPES: Dark romance, best friends to lovers - except they are not lovers they're worse and this is not a love story, so basically best friends to lovers to enemies to ??? ; trauma bond galore; double pov, told both in the past and present; slight au

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Will be properly displayed once I get a better hang of the story, but basically this will explore some pretty dark themes (cough murder cough), child abuse, toxic friendships and relationships, violence, drug and alcohol abuse. Oh and smut. Obviously.

SUMMARY: This is not a love story.

Even though I’ve spent years hoping - praying - that one day it’ll be, the tale involving Rafe Cameron and I is anything but the kind where two people meet and fall so madly in love, the whole world stops in its entirety. Except, the world did stop, but for a completely different reason. A mistake. A heinous, unforgivable crime that haunts me till this very day.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE (coming soon)

#rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron x oc #original character #easier than lying #dark!rafe x oc #dark!fic #dark!rafe smut #dark!rafe cameron #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine

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4urvalidation · 2 months ago

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EASIER THAN LYING | Chapter One

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A/N: Very ambitious (and borderline clinically insane) of me to begin a brand new fucking fanfic two days before I'm about to leave for a two week work trip.

Oh well... Let’s make fun of the girl who took a risk and put herself out there 🙄 That being said, full warning - this is a very OC centric chapter. It sets the scene for what's to come, so even though I know most of y'all would want to skip it because our problematic fave isn't the star, please don't. He is there, I promise! All you gotta do is squint a little harder.

I had a lot of fun writing this (even more so the following chapter that may and may not be coming out later tonight 👀) so please - let me know what y'all think! Your thoughts and comments mean a lot to me!

T/W: Brief mentions of murder as well as implied sexual activities. (idk how else to word that, take it as you will lmao)

TRUDY

The sun fades behind a cluster of cotton candy clouds, painting the sky and ocean a jarring shade of burnt orange that at second glance makes it seem as if the whole world’s on fire. And in some strange, poetic kind of way - it is. At least, that’s how mine feels at this very moment.

Slightly exhausted, I press my back against the bench; ignoring the way its metal bars dig into my skin and take in the quiet. Aside from Charlie, me and a couple dozen other people, the ferry is practically empty. There are still two more weeks to go until the island is packed with loud, sloppy tourists; before the beaches are no longer a holy place and I set to leave.

It’s strange. Five years ago the idea of leaving Kildare forever used to terrify me. I couldn’t imagine a life outside the island. I didn’t want to. Didn’t dare to. Everyone I knew and loved was there; stuck in a comfortable routine, never needing change, so who was I to think any differently?

Beside me, Charlie shifts a little. His head is steadily resting on my shoulder. He’s been fast asleep ever since we boarded the ferry; his nerves calmed by the pill he took to contain his debilitating seasickness. Gently, I turn to look at him and he nuzzles even closer - his warm steady breath lodging in the crook of my neck and almost instantly, I relax.

The touch of his hand; the quick slide of his fingers in between mine leaves a fluttering feeling in the pit of my belly. A feeling I once thought would be impossible to have with any person other than him. My gaze travels to Charlie again - his soft face, round cheeks and button nose. He looks young for his age; almost always passing for seventeen than his actual twenty-three.

Twenty-three.

I suddenly realize I’m now the same age my mother was when she had me. Twenty-three and just a little over two years older than she was when she married my father. Just like Sarah is, except instead of a huge princess gown with puffy sleeves, her dress is sleeveless and in a nice shade of champagne white.

“Are we there yet?” Charlie says, his voice slurred and drowsy.

I shake my head. “Twenty more minutes to go.” And he hums, burying his face even further inside the crook of my neck; his lips gently brushing against my skin and God - I am so in love with him. This isn’t new of course. I’ve felt this way about him long before I could finally admit it to myself, but the reminder is always nice. Especially in times like these when I have no other choice but to slowly return to the pit of despair I’ve spent so many years running away from.

Minutes trickle by.

The empty seat before Charlie and me has now been occupied by a man that looks a lot more like a teenage boy trying his hardest to pass for an adult. He is dressed in that same delicate and sophisticated way kids from my school used to dress whenever we’d go waste away at the country club or golf course. Clean shaven and doe eyed - he quickly notices my staring and almost immediately, shamelessly stares back.

I try to hide my embarrassment behind a smile, but in reality my entire face has now been distorted into an uncomfortable grimace that probably makes the situation worse than it already is. I don’t know this person and he most definitely doesn’t know me and yet-

“First time traveling to the Outer Banks?” That’s how I know it’s his first time. A local would never refer to Outer Banks as the Outer Banks. Maybe on occasion, when they’re trying to prove a point or give the place a certain meaning, but never so easily or in this context.

I look back at him, the smile now completely wiped away from my face and replaced with something stoic. Unreadable. “No. I used to live here.”

“Ah. A local then.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” I nod and turn away, hoping he’d get the hint.

He doesn’t.

“Maybe you can show me around.” I don’t like the way he says that. The way it’s devoid of a question mark. Not asking for a favor but demanding for one. It’s a little too eerie and too familiar for my liking. Not to mention just how much it reminds me of him.

“I’m all booked.” I tilt my head towards Charlie, giving him a hint. He nods, but doesn’t look away.

“I’m not asking you out.” His voice is flat. When my gaze meets his again, there’s a slight smile on his face.

“Didn’t think you were.”

“I’m Patrick. Hahn.” Patrick fullstop Hahn pulls his entire body towards mine only to sheepishly return to his seat when I refuse to shake his jittery, sweaty hand. “I take it you haven’t heard of me. I’m a true crime podcaster.” He announces with the sort of pride only doctors and engineers should have when telling others about what they do for a living.

“Okay.”

“Currently I’m working on a piece about an unsolved murder that happened here around five years ago.”

Time stops. So does my heart and with it the blood in my veins. I stare at him, slightly slack jawed and frozen. Beneath me, as able to feel all of it, Charlie stirs a little. Smacks his lips and falls back asleep.

“Murder?” I hear myself say, but the voice that leaves my throat barely sounds like mine.

“Yeah.” Patrick nods, his bright eyes alight with excitement. “That’s why I asked for the tour. Since you’re a local and all. Maybe you know something.” There it is again - a statement that so very clearly should be phrased as a question, but isn’t.

I shake my head.

“Her name was Susan Peterkin. She used to be the town’s sheriff. Ironic right?” A sardonic smile tugs on the corner of Patrick’s lips. His voice sounds different now - booming and borderline theatrical. Almost as if he’s reading off a script. “On July 29th 2020, Sheriff Peterkin’s body was fished out from the ocean by a clueless sailor. He was a tourist, taking his boat out after a nice long day of doing nothing. Fishing season was in full bloom and although he had never shown any interest in it before, his buddy did - hence the reason why they threw the net in the first place.”

Why is he telling me this?

“But, what they thought would be the great catch of the day, instead turned out to be permanent trauma for his two tween daughters, as well as his wife and himself… of course. Before that, Susan Peterkin had been missing for three days. She was reported as such by her deputy, Victor Shoupe, after she failed to show up for work that day.”

What is his end goal?

“A coroner’s report states that Sheriff Peterkin died due to a gun wound. She was shot in the back by a 9mm. If the ambulance had been called on time, or simply just called for that matter, she would’ve been alive today. Probably even attend Ward Cameron’s daughter’s wedding.”

That.

“You know who I am.”

“No. Not at first. But now… yeah. I do.”

My entire body stiffens and this time it’s enough to completely shake Charlie out of his deep slumber. He jolts - almost like actors do in movies when they’re pretending to wake from a nightmare. “Are we there yet?” He asks, dark hazel eyes marred with sleep and he looks at me so kindly, so lovingly, I almost forget about the threat at bay.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” I smile.

He holds my hand as we leave; never asking about Patrick fullstop Hahn or the reason why I hold on to him a little bit tighter than usual. He knows how uneasy this place makes me feel the same way he knows just how little I like to talk about my feelings and opinions on things. Especially if said things concern my own wellbeing.

But at night - after we’ve made pleasantries with my parents and had dinner - he pulls me closer to him. His lips trace a path from my neck all the way down to my collar bone and I’m really not feeling it, but I also happen to be in a desperate need of a distraction, so… I let him.

The bed is small, barely fitting one person, little alone two grown adults and I’m starting to wonder how on earth I ever did this with- “Rafe.”

“What?” Charlie stops to look at me. I look back, face frozen in shock. “Did you say something?”

“Behave.” I breathe out, “You’re being loud. I don’t want my parents to hear.” His chuckle sends a pleasant kind of rumbling across my entire body, jolting my heart awake and filling it with hunger I haven’t felt in a while. Next time he thrusts inside me, I have to bite on his shoulder in order to keep myself quiet. Charlie’s never liked that, but for some reason he doesn’t complain.

The next morning he wakes with a large toothy bruise on his shoulder that he covers with a long sleeved T-shirt - the kind that looks like he’s stolen it from somebody and heads for his morning run. I decide to sleep in, but it doesn’t come easy.

I can’t stop thinking about Patrick fullstop Hahn.

“Hey, isn’t this the guy from the ferry?” Is the first thing Charlie says when he comes back. His question has me emerge from the en-suite bathroom almost instantly; body wrapped in a towel and an episode of Hahnestly, Who Killed Them on pause.

My laptop, among plenty of my other things are strewn about the unmade bed, as Patrick fullstop Hahn’s face blares from the overly bright screen. “Yeah. He’s some true crime podcaster obsessed with unsolved crime.” I smirk, meeting Charlie’s gaze. There are tiny beads of sweat across his forehead, his long blonde hair haphazardly gathered in something that is supposed to resemble a ponytail but instead looks like a giant nest on the back of his head.

“And you were listening to him?” He asks and I bite my lip, nodding. “Is he any good?”

“He… he’s fine… I guess.” T

The truth is Patrick is actually brilliant. Engaging and a lot more charming through a speaker than he is in real life and although I’ve never liked this type of exploitative media, I catch myself being strangely drawn to it. The way he empathizes with the victims, makes time to contact the family and ask for their approval on the matter…

I wonder if he did the same with Sheriff Peterkin’s family.

“Says here he also has a supernatural podcast?” Charlie looks up from my laptop, the corners of his lips tugged into a sneer.

I grin. “Oh, you mean The Hahnted Files?”

“Look at you. A fan already.”

“Hardly.” I chuckle.

Charlie goes on about his day - showering and doing his best to tame that wild mane on his head while I press play and continue listening to Patrick fullstop Hahn’s podcast. He’s talking about a case I scrolled past while wasting away on Twitter a while back and I’m not paying much attention to it right now either, but for some strange reason I can’t bring myself to turn it off.

“He’s doing an episode on Sheriff Peterkin’.” I exclaim to Charlie the second he’s in the bedroom. The bruise my teeth made on his shoulder looks jarring in the soft daylight. He stares at me. I swallow. “Someone… killed her five years ago and they never found out who did it.”

“And this Patrick guy is what? Gonna try and solve it or something?” I shrug. Charlie sits beside me. “I don’t get it, Tru. Why is this bothering you? I mean - what do you have to do with Sheriff Patinkin’s murder?”

Everything.

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#easier than lying #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x oc #original character #dark!rafe x oc #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fic

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4urvalidation · 2 months ago

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trying to finish ch 15 of ACOL, ch 1 of Easier than Lying, pack, spend time with family and move into my new place all before i have to leave for my 2 week long work trip

#can't believe this is my life (celebratory with a pinch of complaining)

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4urvalidation · 2 months ago

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A CASE OF LIMERENCE | Chapter Fourteen

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A/N: I'm really, really, REALLY sorry for the wait. Travelling for two weeks, working for ten hours and then finally getting to go home can do a number to a girl. In all honesty, after the small break I really didn't feel like writing. Writer's block is something I've been struggling with since the moment I've been writing (mainly due to my incessant need for everything to be perfect on the very first try) and getting back into ACOL has been a struggle.

If I'm being dramatic - which I am, always - I guess you could say I've been fighting an inner war; for the past couple of days I wasn't sure whether I even wanted to continue writing this, but then I reread it; reminded myself just how happy creating all of this has made me feel so here we are.

My original idea for how this was supposed to go is so different from what I've written so far, so tying old notes with brand new ones has been a little bit difficult but I've decided to play it as lays (or whatever the saying is)

That being said - y'all got a big storm coming :)

Leni doesn’t know for just how long she was standing in that corridor. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time trickles past her like the beads of sweat in the back of her neck and when she finally returns - fingers prickling and curled into tight fists - Cleo is the only one concerned by her sudden disappearance. The others are a bit too preoccupied with whatever seems to be going on in Polly’s phone.

Silently, Leni returns to her seat - the corner of her eye adamantly fixed on the still empty deckchair on the other side of the pool as she tries not to think about it; to think about him, but her mind keeps taking her there. The memory of Rafe’s touch gingerly pressed upon the skin of her hand, its warmth and the bolt of electricity it sent through her entire body, lingers like a bad perfume.

She tries to shake it; tries to stop her brain from constantly replaying the image of his suddenly cold gaze; the sound of his voice and the way it shook when he spoke again…

When he told her to lie.

“You ready to go?” She feels the touch of Cleo’s hand rest gingerly on her shoulder and almost instantly, as if on queue, their eyes meet.

Leni nods.

Stands.

“We, uh… we’re gonna head out… now.” She finally has Tess and Polly’s attention and they’re both looking at her now, but Leni is only looking at Tess. How long have you known? Is the first question that pops into her head before a flurry of others start crowding the rest of her brain and force her fingers into complete numbness.

“No!” Polly cries out, the bright screen on her phone suddenly visible and playing a video of Topper and Rafe. The glimpse makes Leni’s stomach flip. She swallows. “I literally just ordered another round of bramble!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel good-”

“Yeah, we’re still kinda hungover from last night.” Cleo swoops in, an apologetic smile gently tugging on the corners of her lips.

“Not you too!” Polly is fully pouting now, her hands curled into tiny fists - just like a petulant child’s. The sight almost makes Leni smile a little, but then the corner of her eye catches movement - Rafe has finally returned - and so is the frown on her face.

“Sorry girls.” She says with a small shrug; all her belongings haphazardly thrown in her bag and there it is again: his gaze - deep and haunting, shamelessly lingering on the side of her body and making her heart react in the stupidest of ways.

Call me when you learn how to lie.

His last words echo in the back of her head as she and Cleo step outside. A gust of humid air hits Leni’s face like a slap as the memory of Rafe’s blue eyes prickles at her skin like salt water. The regret she feels over saying those things; over pushing him away comes to her in waves - slow, agitating ones that make her want to learn how to turn back time just so she can undo her stupid mistake.

But was it really?

Was it really a mistake if the reason she did it was because he was a horrible, psychotic person?

The throbbing in her temple returns and Leni feels sick all over again.

She doesn’t want to return to her hotel room.

She doesn’t want to watch reruns of a TV show she’s seen a dozen times or stuff herself with all kinds of junk food until he is no longer the reason why she feels like vomiting.

Silently, with one single swift movement, Leni pulls the key out of her pocket and hands it over to Cleo, “Here. I… uh… I kinda need to be by myself a little. Just an hour or two to clear my head… If you go by the pool they usually serve ice cream around this time… it’s not as good as the one we just had at the club but-”

“Leni,” Cleo interrupts her, her pretty face alight with the world’s kindest smile, “Don’t worry about me. Do what you gotta do.”

Her numb fingers hover over the keyboard as she watches the notification appear and then disappear. It’s not a surprising thing - getting a text from her mom. She always gets texts from her; weird, silly ones at the strangest time of the day - usually when either of them is supposed to be sleeping, but never like this.

She stares at her phone as the lump in her throat grows bigger and bigger. The myriad of texts JJ had sent her begin to blur into one, as the screen of her phone turns to black. Dazed, Leni catches a glimpse of her reflection in the broken glass, desperately trying to remember what she wanted to tell that sweet, sweet boy, but her mind keeps drawing blanks.

Until suddenly, it doesn’t.

The first thought comes once Leni finds herself completely sprawled onto the sand and with it comes a feeling so insidious it makes her want to throw up again. She can barely feel her fingers - toes included - and there’s a strange feeling inside her chest; like someone keeps pressing their hands against it, weighing her down and making it hard to breathe.

She tries not to think about it; tries to focus on the sound of ocean waves crashing, but what once used to bring her peace now seems to be the cause of her furthering anxiety and before she knows it, Leni is having a full blown panic attack.

When she finally comes to, her hair and clothes are covered in sand and the sun has started to set. Breathless she fishes for her phone, opening Instagram for a grain of distraction and there he is, the biggest one Leni has ever had. Like some stupid, lovestruck teenager, she watches each and every single one of the stories Rafe’s posted in the past hour or so. She hates how silly this whole entire thing probably makes her look, but not as much as she hates herself for allowing to have these feelings for him in the first place.

Closing her eyes, she tries to imagine what being with him would actually look like, but instead of a fully fledged movie all her brain is able to conjure is… nothing. The stillness of it annoys Leni. Picturing herself having sex with him is easy; natural almost and yet, the thing she shamefully yearns for the most also somehow happens to be the hardest to conceive.

Probably because Rafe isn’t boyfriend material, a small voice from a far corner of her mind bellows inside her head and almost instantly, as if on autopilot another one counters: But he was. With Sofia.

Until he wasn’t.

Until he cheated on her and threw a bottle of whiskey right next to her head and scared her into leaving without a single goodbye.

And that’s when it comes to Leni.

All at once, the images of their hypothetical relationship slide through her mind’s eye like a really bad Powerpoint presentation, but only one remains etched in her memory.

She’s on Rafe’s boat - gently sunkissed, hair in a braid, her white shirt slowly flailing in the wind and he’s right there; watching her with those stormy blues like a blind man looking at the sunset for the first time. Her heart skips a beat and she giggles - even though they’ve been together for a while now, he’s still capable of making her feel like the very first time.

And it’s strange really - how important, loved and wanted she feels. So much so, Leni no longer cares how loving him has practically alienated her from every single person that’s ever mattered. Yes, there have been plenty of times when she’s yearned for Sarah’s company or the sound of her mother’s voice, but what’s the point in having any of that when all they do is judge Leni and her choices?

She is happy.

She is satisfied.

She is having the best sex a person could ever have in their entire fucking life.

So what if half of it is a facade?

She knew what she was getting into. Had been warned about him over a dozen times. But she wants him. She loves him. Yes, he is flawed and rough and so fucking difficult and complicated, but so is she.

They don’t understand.

No one will ever understand.

Except, maybe for the person that married his father, but Rose has always been a hypocrite. Leni couldn’t see it then; she was far too young and blind and naive to understand or even accept that part of her beloved Godmother, but she sees it now. She sees it as clear as day and loathes Rose for it.

Back in the present, sad reality that has somehow become her life, Leni pats herself down, but the sand keeps sticking to her hair and clothes. Much like the sour taste in her mouth that Rose has created. Above her the sky is growing dark - a clear sign of a storm brewing in the horizon.

Leni is running now, eager to go back to her hotel room where Cleo is most definitely waiting with leftover junk food and a kind smile, but her mind is still a mess. A clutter of unruly, panicky thoughts that have her standing on the edge of a spiral and then, on the very bottom of it, there’s Rose.

There used to be a time when she was the most important person in Leni’s life. Before Sarah, before Ema - hell, even before her very own mother - there stood Rose, constantly propped on a pedestal. The best person alive. The cool aunt. Her mother’s best friend who dyed her hair fun colors and let her eat sour candy until her tummy hurt and encouraged her to talk to boys. She was Leni’s best friend before Leni even knew what having a best friend meant; comforted her over the phone when Leni and her family had to leave the country overnight and fought ferociously with her mother when they wanted to send Leni to a boring summer camp.

“Why don’t you have her spend the summer with me, Ward and the kids? Ward’s oldest daughter- Sarah - is the same age as Leni. Very awkward. I’m sure she too could use a friend.” The conversation is alive in Leni’s mind as if it happened only yesterday.

Rose was supposed to take care of her.

That was the deal.

She was supposed to be here - picking her up from the airport and driving back to Tannyhill as the most god awful country music blasted from the speakers of her all too girly car. They were supposed to be laughing; making lunch plans and getting their nails done and talking about boys. She would’ve known the exact remedy for heartbreak; helped Leni put the pieces of her broken heart back together and most importantly - keep her away from making the mistakes she’s done in her absence.

Why didn’t she tell me?

The question plagues Leni’s mind; brings tears in her eyes and she swore she wouldn’t do it again, but there she is: standing still on his porch; fingers balled into a tight fist and hovering over the door.

JJ opens after one single knock and when their eyes meet, his expression is nowhere near what Leni expected to see. “Hey,” She hears herself say - her voice rough and barely above a whisper. “Sorry for, uhm, showing up like this… so out of the blue and stuff… I… I saw your texts and… I was gonna reply, but-”

“You were too busy playing hooky with Tess and Polly?” It’s not his reply that has Leni’s mouth fall slack, but the tone of his voice. The words leave his mouth like slabs of ice - each colder than the one before. “I saw the stories. What were you thinking? Lying about having a migraine? And bringing Cleo into your mess? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The trouble you created? Kie - who was actually not feeling well today - had to come into work sick and do a double, just so you can play Kook!”

“I-” Leni opens her mouth, but the sentences are lodged behind the gigantic lump that’s appeared in the middle of her throat. And she tries to stay calm; to speak with a slow and measured tone but the sole mention of Kie’s name sends her into a further frenzy and suddenly, Leni finds herself shouting at JJ, “Ohmigod, who cares!? I was hungover and didn’t feel like coming to work today! Sue me!”

“Leni, you have a responsibility! You can’t just not show up because you don’t feel like it!”

“I have a responsibility? Oh okay Mr. Big Work Ethic - when was the last time you had a job?” She regrets the words the second they slip through her lips, but instead of disappointment, JJ’s blue eyes glow with something else entirely.

Defensiveness. “That’s none of your business.”

“JJ… you’re making it my business!”

“Well… now I’m unmaking it! Boom! You’re free.”

Leni blinks.

Is he for real?

Or just exceptionally high?

“That’s… that’s not what I was trying to say…”

“What were you trying to say then?”

“I just… for once I just wanted you to take my side…”

“Why?” His eyebrows shoot up so high, they’ve practically become one with his hairline, “You’re not my girlfriend.” The statement is like a slap to her face and it hits Leni so hard, she can actually feel the burn on her cheek.

Slack-jawed and completely devoid of words, she watches JJ open and close his mouth several times - the realization of what he just said hitting him a little bit too late, “Shit, Leni.” She can feel the regret in his voice; the way it spreads across his entire face before finally taking shelter in his gaze.

“Don’t worry about it.” She says, “You’re right. And besides, it’s not like it was gonna happen anyway.”

JJ blinks, “Wh- What do you mean?”

“I’ll be leaving soon and-” You are in love with your best friend and we should just stop torturing ourselves and start being with the people we’d both rather be with, so “the best thing right now is to… stop.”

“You’re breaking up with me?”

“Uh… yeah, I guess, but… it’s not really breaking up if we were never really together now is it? I mean, you just said it yourself - I’m not your girlfriend, so-”

“So you never liked me?”

“That’s…” His question makes Leni’s head start to throb and she hopes to god that this irrational thinking of his is the product of all the weed he’s smoked before she showed up and not due to a sheer lack of intelligence. “I do like you Jay.”

“Just not like that.”

She nods stiffly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t… don’t apologize. Seriously. You’re only gonna make it worse.”

Leni swallows.

Above her the clouds have turned a dangerous shade of dark grey.

She should start leaving soon, but JJ clears his throat,“It’s cause of Rafe isn’t it?”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Rafe?”

JJ shrugs, “Yeah, I… I dunno, I just… When I told you all that stuff about him you looked at me the same way Sarah does whenever Pope and I talk shit about him. And then Kie told me she saw you crying… and I just thought…”

“Rafe has nothing to do with this.”

But it has.

It has everything to do with this.

Everything always has somehow had Rafe something to do with her decision making and she is absolutely sick of it.

Sick of him, sick of this fucking island, sick of herself.

JJ is looking at her - baby blonde hair flapping comically in the wind and she should be going now. He says so himself, in that small unnatural voice he seems to have created just so he can speak to her post whatever this conversation was. “I’m not kicking you out or anything. It’s just… it seems like it’s gonna rain soon and I don’t want you being caught in the middle of it or being forced to stay here…”

Leni nods.

He is right.

So she leaves, but the weight on top of her chest remains. As a matter of fact, it kinda feels like it got heavier - a kilo or two or perhaps even more.

She feels bad.

Downright disgusting and horrible even though things - as unplanned as they were - went a lot better than expected.

JJ wasn’t overly angry.

Or upset.

When he raised his voice, he didn’t accuse her of leading him on or using her.

He did everything like she was desperately hoping he would.

Then why on earth is she so fucking unhappy?

And then it hits her.

It hits her harder than the bolt of lighting she sees cut through the sky in the distance.

A pair of stormy blue eyes and a shaky voice.

The willingness to fight for her; the despondent way he told her all of his deepest, most darkest and shameful of secrets… how he was ready to do anything to get her on his side.

No.

JJ isn’t Rafe.

Never was and never will be and Leni tries to convince herself how that’s actually a good thing.

A fat raindrop falls directly on the crown of her head and then another one and another one and before she knows it, Leni is drenched and riding her bike as fast as she can to the quickest shelter. Her hotel is still a ten minute ride away, but there’s no way she can make the trek - at least not with the rain coming as hard as it’s doing in this very second.

Suddenly tired, Leni wraps her arms around her cold wet body. The last thing she needs right now is to catch one of those pesky summer colds.

She sighs.

And then calls her mom.

“Hi honey.”

Leni tried to be strong.

She really fucking did.

When she pressed that green call button right next to her mother’s name, she took a deep breath and promised herself to keep all her broken pieces intact, but all of that fell apart the moment she heard the sound of her mom’s voice.

“I want to go home.” A loud sob tears through her throat. “Rose left me and I can’t reach her and I’m so fucking lonely and hate it here and… please Mom… Can you come and get me? Please… I want to go home.”

Silence.

In her mind’s eye Leni pictures her mom sitting on that god awful orange sofa in their living room, her right leg bobbing nervously. “Leni, honey, you know that’s not possible… Your dad and I… we… we really thought it’d be fixed by the time you got back next year but-”

What?

Leni blinks, “Mom… I was just… I was gonna ask you for a ticket home… what are you talking about?”

“You father… he got in trouble at work and… we’re not in a very good place right now financially.” She can feel the lump in the middle of her throat grow bigger with each new word that leaves her mother’s lips. “He made a lot of…” Scams. Is what her mother wants to say but doesn’t because in her head Leni’s father needs to be the best person possible even though both of them know that’s the farthest from the truth. “Bad decisions and…”

“We’re broke.”

“Yes.” Her mom hesitantly says after a pause that feels a thousand years long. Then, she adds a couple of more things; a bunch of words that Leni cannot hear from the sound of the heavy rain mixed with the flurry of panicked thoughts going in and out of her brain.

It’s happening again.

They’re gonna have to leave in the middle of the night and force Leni to skip town without saying goodbye to any of her friends and-

“So I can’t come home anymore?” She croaks. With her heart beating ferociously in her throat, Leni waits for her mother’s response, but all she gets is silence. Silence that stretches on for what feels like ages. Only when she decides to check on her phone does she realize that the reason for it all was her now dead battery.

Annoyed, Leni curses under her breath.

If she hadn’t felt defeated before she sure as hell feels now.

Stuck and hopeless, she leans against the cold glass window of a hardware store that seems to have been out of business even longer than she’s been alive. The rain keeps coming down harder and harder with no intentions of stopping, making Leni wonder whether she’ll have to spend the night here and whether they’d arrest her for breaking and entering if she finds a way to shelter herself inside the store.

And that’s when she hears it - the undeniable roar of an engine; a familiar vehicle stopping right there in front of her. The dark tinted windows make it a little hard for Leni to see the person behind the wheel and she may not be very good with cars, but she’d recognize that shade and model everywhere.

Rafe.

Breath catching and heartbeat skipping, she eagerly awaits for him to roll down the window and flash her that shit eating smirk of his. Yes he is mad and this isn’t what they agreed on,, but how could he resist driving past her on a rainy day like this and not tease her into oblivion before offering to give her a ride home.

“Leni? Leni, is that really you?”

Her heart drops.

She should’ve known.

It was far too good to be true.

“Yeah. Hi Mrs. Wutton-Kelley.”

“Ohmigod, how many times have I told you! Call me Jessica!”

Jessica, selflessly offers her a ride because of course she would. They secure Leni’s bike on the back of her trunk and then finally, head home. The car is warm and smells like lavender and Leni is soaking through Jessica’s fancy leather seats, but she doesn’t seem to care. She’s far too busy going on and on about the last time she saw Leni, “You’ve grown so much!” She gushes. “I almost didn’t stop just now because I barely even recognized you. How’s your mom? I talked to Rose the other day and she told me her and your dad were planning a trip to the Maldives?”

After the news she just broke to her, Leni doubts that the last thing her parents would be planning is a trip to the Maldives unless it’s the kind that includes packing their nearest and dearest belongings and- “You talked to Rose?” The realization hits at the very second the question leaves Leni’s mouth.

Jessica grins, “I talk to her almost every day. Well, every two to three days, now that Rafe has that stupid P.I breathing down my neck… but yeah. We try our best to stay in touch. She talks about you a lot.”

Leni nods stiffly; gently tracing the cracks running down her phone’s broken screen and that’s when it hits her. “Good things I hope.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Their gazes meet for a second. Jessica is beaming. “The best.”

“That’s a relief.” She chuckles, “It’s been ages since I’ve talked to Rose and I thought she might’ve been complaining to you about it.”

“No, no. She’d never. All I’ve heard her say about you is what a great kid you are and gush about the college you’re going to next year.”

Leni nods. Smiles and it’s a genuine one. The kind that shoots warmth in every single part of her body and gently reminds her that despite all of it, Rose still loves her. “Well next time you two talk can you please tell her I broke my phone? I, uh… dropped it at one of the beaches down at The Cut and I’m pretty sure some water got into it and that’s the reason why half of my photos and phone numbers are missing.”

“Oh no! Is that why you haven’t talked to Rose?”

“Yeah… actually - now that I’m thinking about it… I think it’s best if you don’t tell her anything. She’s gonna freak out if I tell her I’ve been spending most of my time here at The Cut.” From the corner of her eye, Leni can see Jessica nod vigorously at this. “Not to mention the tantrum my mom’s gonna throw if she finds out I broke my phone.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed shut.”

“Thank you.” Leni smiles again, only this time the corners of her mouth tug in a very slow and calculated manner.

When they reach the Summerwinds Hotel, Jessica doesn’t ask the question that’s on everybody’s lips once they find out where she is staying. Instead, she makes that weird grin that makes her look like she’s severely constipated before gleefully telling Leni to stop by their hacienda whenever she wants.

“Thanks. I will. And thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime.”

Outside the rain has calmed down a little and she is about to leave the car when - “Oh, I almost forgot. If it’s no bother, can you please give me Rose’s number? Just so I can shoot her a text and let her know I’m alive?”

“Of course! And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Back in the hotel room, Cleo is indeed waiting for her splayed out on the bed with a bunch of leftover junk food and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing from the laptop she seems to have brought from home.

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower to warm up and I’ll join you.” Leni says eagerly before locking herself in the bathroom and finally getting her phone to charge.

She lets the water run down her body until there’s no longer any hot water left. When she comes out, her phone is almost at fifty percent. She’s got one missed call from her mother, a text and three missed calls from Sarah.

With a towel snuggly wrapped around her body, Leni bites the skin around her prickling, numb thumb until she draws blood. Then, she presses send.

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#a case of limerence #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron x oc #original character

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