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warnings: substance use, gambling, one night stands, vegas marriages, miscommunication trope, talks of pregnancy.
summary: in celebration of sarah and john b’s engagement, the group embarks on a weekend getaway to las vegas, where the only plans are to get drunk, party hard, and spend endless hours blowing money in the casinos. though things take a sudden turn when you wake up on the last morning in an unfamiliar bed with a plastic ring wedged on your finger, laying next to none other than rafe cameron — your husband. while you desperately scramble to escape the consequences of your drunken weekend, they follow you all the way back home to the outerbanks, where there’s an even more shocking discovery waiting for you there.
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005 series masterlist previous chapter next chapter
warnings: brief mentions of manipulation & slapping, drug use
The tremble in your hands betrays your cold expression as you reach to grasp at the door handle in front of you, the smooth brass doing nothing to cool the heat that floods through your veins. Rafe was here. It was like some sick joke, more than anything else — like whatever being dwelled above was taking some kind of perverse satisfaction in watching you suffer again and again at the hands of Rafe fucking Cameron.
Even when you were younger, two curious children untarnished by the hardships of reality, Rafe had always been the more troubled out of you both: he was quick to lash his tongue, harsh words that left you sniffling on the acrylic courts in your backyard, soft knuckles rubbing at your wet lashes. You can practically still taste the salty breeze, even now, after all this time, still feel the hot tears that’d cascaded down your chubby cheeks, the burn that his stern palm had left behind on your face —
No.
You didn’t want to think about that now. It was all a long time ago, back when Rafe’s father would crouch to meet your eye before you’d leave their house and grasp at your little arms hard enough to make you wince, and tell you over and over again that Rafe hadn’t meant to upset you, and that he was provoked. That maybe you should stop being such a try hard and let Rafe win, so that it could all be a whole lot easier for everyone involved. You wonder if he’d tell you the same thing if he was here now.
The music is quick to engulf you once more as you leave the bathroom, reverberating enough for you to feel it in your stomach. It doesn’t feel fun anymore, the usually wondrous feeling of intoxication now more of a burden as you stumble through the long halls of the building, heels catching on the Persian rug that lines the corridor.
Through your drunken haze which you desperately try to combat, your eyes catch on the outline of a person at the end of the hallway, stature familiar enough that it doesn’t have you faltering. Sarah, you deduce, hands steadying yourself slightly as you approach, lips already parting in a greeting of relief. Oh, you go to say, thank God you’re here, JJ said he’ll come to get us —
Your first thought is that the reside of white that clings to his upper lip must be a product of your inebriated mind, a fabrication formed by too many shots of Smirnoff vodka. Your Ra — Rafe doesn’t do that anymore. He worked so hard to get clean, you know that he wouldn’t do that again —
“Stop fucking staring at me.” He snarls, upper lip curling back. Everything’s still so fuzzy, the heat stifling as you try and make sense of him. Staring is an exaggeration, you think, but you are looking at him, unblinking, probably intensely, unable to tear your gaze away from his nose.
Your mouth suddenly runs dry, and for an alarming second you think you might throw up.
“M’not.” Is all you can muster, hands forming into loose fists at your sides, finally tearing your gaze away from his face. Yeah, you think, definitely a perverse satisfaction.
Rafe doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, unmoving before you, a crease between his brows. He’s agitated, you note — a byproduct of the cocaine smeared over his nostril and the familiar scent of your sickly-sweet perfume.
“Are you —” You swallow. You’re too parched to form the words. You just can’t help but look at the powder once more, a smear of white against his sweaty upper lip. “I thought you were clean.” Is the pathetic substitute you settle for, and you inwardly curse as you feel your bottom lip tremble.
“What’s it got to do with you, huh?” Rafe steps closer. Your breath hitches as you instinctively move backwards, before your back meets the wooden door of the bathroom that had been your sanctuary only a few minutes before.
You’re not a child anymore, you try to remind yourself, blinking away any tears that threaten to gather on your waterline. You’re not a child anymore. Rafe doesn’t scare you. His father doesn’t scare you. You’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to win. You don’t have to sacrifice your own happiness for his —
“Jesus Christ, are you fucking crying?”
You are.
It’s mortifying, really — you blame it on the alcohol, of course, for bringing back all these stupid memories you’d buried deep down, from a time when Rafe’s sobriety ( or lack thereof ) had got something to do with you. You try to remind yourself that it’s not like you actively care, it’s just a shock to see him here, and you’re really drunk, and you really did think he’d gotten sober for good —
You flinch as his hand touches your bare shoulder, his large palm swallowing your soft skin. The gasp that escapes you is barely more than a breath, but it seems to send Rafe into a frenzy. He jerks his hand away from you as if the slightest contact has inflicted unbearable pain.
Rafe’s hands come up to his face, a guttural groan leaning his lips. He digs the heels of his palms against his eye sockets, toned biceps bulging beneath the restraints of his pressed dress shirt.
“Fuck, Y/N — I — Fuck.”
Your phone buzzes in your palm.
It’s Sarah, you note. You can imagine her now, stumbling through the complex, fighting her way through the swarms of sweaty, egotistical athletes. There’s something almost comical about the image you mind creates, and even in this moment, it’s enough to have you biting back a laugh.
The feeling soon leaves when you hear Rafe sob.
Your head spins from the emotional whiplash, still trying to make sense of it all, when you notice the tremor in Rafe’s broad shoulders. Despite his hands covering his eyes, you can still hear the soft sniffling escaping him, the subtle hunch in his back betraying his struggle to keep his emotions in check.
The first time you saw Rafe cry, you were nine. He had whispered to you, his voice barely audible, that he felt inferior to his sister. Fat tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as you huddled together in the dark of his bedroom, sharing secrets you’d never tell anyone else. Even then, you recall, he’d hunched his shoulders, trying to hide his sobs, as if protecting you from the vulnerability he couldn’t escape.
Your own emotions barely register now, suddenly consumed by the need to focus on him. Slowly, you lift your hand, as if approaching a wild animal, your fingers hovering just above the bronzed skin of his forearm. His skin feels hot as you grasp at his wide wrist, your movements fuelled by muscle memory.
“Rafe.” You murmur, voice tentative as you speak. “Rafe, c’mon, it’s — it’s okay. You’re okay.”
He trembles beneath your touch, rugged breaths escaping him in shallow gasps. His free hand lifts to angrily scrub at his nose, wiping away the remnants of powder. He refuses to meet your gaze, his eyes fixed just over your head, though the light catches on the tears clinging to his red-rimmed eyes, and it’s enough to make your throat tighten.
“You’re okay.” You repeat, slowly, worried gaze never leaving him. Your hand ventures higher, smoothing over his bicep, settling on the dip of his throat. His heart hammers wildly under his clammy skin, your palm slick with his perspiration.
Rafe shakes his head at your words, straight teeth indenting his bottom lip as he bites down on it, desperately trying to soothe the wobbling of his chin. “M’not. I’m not okay.” He says, practically whimpering as more tears escape from his cerulean eyes.
“You are, I promise. You just — you just need to calm down, okay? You just need to sober up —”
Rafe scoffs at that, a bitter laugh escaping him, one that’s devoid of all humour. “It’s not about that.” He says, sniffling, chin tilting as he looks down to meet your gaze. You stiffen at the intensity of it, suddenly feeling under scrutiny.
You don’t reply. Your hand stays on his neck, thumb gently soothing over the flushed skin there, an action that’s almost as familiar to you as breathing.
“I’m not a good person, Y/N. I’m not. The things I’ve said, the things I’ve done —” His voice cracks, cutting him off. Rafe sniffles, rubbing at his wet eyes.
You pout slightly, caught off guard by his sudden confession. Your mind feels hazy from the lingering effects of alcohol, the situation only becoming more overwhelming. This is Rafe Cameron, for God’s sake— the same Rafe who spent your entire childhood making fun of you every time you cried. This display of emotion was so unlike him, you hardly knew how to react: though it seems muscle memory kicks in, and you opt for comforting in the only way that ever worked.
At first, Rafe tenses when your arms encircle him. You’re deliberate in your touch, your hands grazing lightly over his back as you draw him in, pausing for a breath as the side of your cheek gently meets the smooth, white fabric of his shirt.
A long, agonizing silence stretches between you before Rafe finally responds, his massive arms encircling your back with a desperate, trembling grip. He shakes violently, his sobs raw and guttural, his body quivering in your gentle embrace as the warmth of his tears soak your hair. His words are muffled, barely audible, swallowed by the chaotic beat of your own heart as it thunders in your chest. All you can do is hold him tighter as your mind races, a gnawing voice urging you to pull away, to let him face this alone —
But you know you can’t walk away.
Instead, you just let him grab you tighter, fingers biting into the bare skin of your shoulders. When his knees buckle, you drop to the floor with him, your shaking hands moving to brush over his buzzed hair. You don’t know how long you stay like that, cradling Rafe’s face in the crook of your neck, feeling his tears against your skin like you did all that time ago, when he’d first ever gotten sober with your help.
“You’re okay, Rafe.” You say once more, voice strained with you own emotion. “You’ll — you’ll figure this out, ‘m sure.”
004 series masterlist previous chapter next chapter
liked by jjmaybankbasketball, wimbledon and 99,876 others
youruser shout out to dior for custom making this outfit for me, and shout out to @sarahroutledge because she’s gonna be taking it awf of me tonite! ;)
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y/ntopfanpage OH MY GOD CONFIRMED BARB?
↳ youruser am i a nicki fan? pull up in the sri lanka — whattt?
cocogauff STUNNINGGGGG
↳ liked by creator
nike looking gorgeous! can’t wait to see you later! #partyoftheyear 🎉🍾
↳ youruser thank u sm for everything!! endlessly grateful for all the opportunities you’ve given me in the last year 💘
dior wow 😍😍
↳ liked by creator
sarahroutledge there’s my gorgeous bestie!!
↳ youruser hi wifey
↳ user This friendship is everything to me
↳ user2 @sarahroutledge do you ever feel bad for screwing your brother over?
↳ COMMENT DELETED BY CREATOR
jjmaybankbasketball oooo she smokin!
↳ youruser love u playboy ❤️🔥❤️🔥
↳ jjssweatyshorts i’m so jel she getting that dick everyday 😫
↳ user3 i don’t think she is lol they’re just besties
↳ jjssweatyshorts sure they are…
liked by johnbroutledge, youruser and 1,987,654 others
sarahroutledge feeling so honoured to be my besties’ plus one tonight 🥹 thank u @dior for the outfit, and thank you @youruser for letting me share this experience with you! 🤍
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youruser my girl! thank u for coming w me 💘
↳ sarahroutledge love u endlessly 🤍🤍
johnbroutledge Beautiful 😍. Have fun 2nite
↳ sarahroutledge i love you
↳ user if u look closely u can actually see me rolling around crying in the background
↳ user4 I’m so single.
kiecarrera so so pretty!! missing u :/
↳ sarahroutledge i’ll be home again soon! i can hear the surf calling me from here
↳ kiecarrera oh yeah it’s singing ur name bb
rafecameronno1fan this girl acting like she’s relevant when she’s only famous cause of her brother 😂😂
↳ sarahroutlover ?? sarah’s literally been on the cover of vogue more times than i can count. i didn’t even know she had a brother lol is he supposed to be important or something
↳ y/ntopfanpage haha no rafe is literally so unimportant i wouldn’t even worry ab it 😭 he’s literally just some mediocre tennis player who spends most of his time bitching ab others
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↳ y/ntopfanpage OMG Y/N JUST LIKED THEN UNLIKED MY COMMENT
