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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

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Maybe, Baby?

Summary: You and Frankie aren't trying for a baby just yet, but when your weird symptoms start to throw your body for a loop, you start to wonder if you actually might be pregnant

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap, silly gooses), creampie, praise kink, size kink (if u squint), unintentional breeding kink (lmaoooo, it's me, sorry not sorry), birth control/family planning, pregnancy (or maybe not? part 2 maybe? hehe) symptoms, Frankie and reader mention being closer to 30 than 16 (turns out when you're an adult, it's not a teen pregnancy anymore), reader has hair that can be played with, Frankie being the sweetest husband alive (all the gold stars for him), Frankie is so excited to be a dad that I just may pass away

A/N: I know y'all voted for me to finish chapter 20 but i lied (I'm so sorry), but I wrote this in a day and husband Frankie was really speaking to me on this one 😭 This one is brought to you by my raging baby fever and perhaps some real life inspiration WHOOPS, art imitating life on this one ig 💀 Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll!!!

Ever since getting off birth control a few months ago, your body had felt… different.

While you were glad you had made the change for yourself, you still found yourself shocked every month when a new sort of symptom decided to appear at some point in your cycle that you had never dealt with before- acne in new places, weird cramps, and crazy mood swings that showed up out of nowhere before your period were just a few of the things you were learning to manage as you figured out your body post birth control.

Another symptom you hadn’t expected was that now, you were insatiably horny.

All the time.

While Frankie had been more supportive and caring in helping you deal with all of your not so pleasant symptoms than you could have hoped for, he was also more than happy to help you with your newly found positive one, too.

The only problem was, after so many years of not having to worry about the consequences of your sex life on birth control, you and Frankie were finding it very hard to adjust to be more… careful.

As you got hornier and hornier, the box of condoms that Frankie had bought after you stopped taking the pill had been seeing less and less use, and to be honest, hadn’t really seen the light of day from the back of his nightstand drawer in about a month an a half- and if you were being even more honest, on top of that, Frankie’s pull out game was almost nowhere to be found.

You both knew that you wanted a family in the future- That was a part of your reason for getting off birth control to begin with. The two of you had agreed to hold off at least for a little longer to try and get your life more in order before bringing a baby into it, but with with your new lack of protection when it came to sex, and constant horniness around the clock, you both were beginning to have a feeling that that your agreed upon timeline for having a baby might be harder for you to maintain that you thought.

Especially when you found yourself morphing into an unspeakably horny monster when you were ovulating.

So little did you realize, that as you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom as the two of you were getting ready for bed and you caught a glimpse in the mirror of Frankie, stripping out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers as he searched around in your dresser for pajamas, that was the reason you nearly spit out your entire mouthful of toothpaste to try and get a mouthful of something else.

You couldn’t help but ogle at your husband's broad body and freckled tan skin, muscles flexing as he shuffled through your drawers, pulling out an old, worn gray t-shirt and tugging it over his head, running his hand through his messy, curly hair before searching for his pajama bottoms.

At this point, you had honestly braced yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter to keep yourself from falling over at how mouth-watering he looked, already feeling the wetness beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear at the thought of wanting to rip his clothes off just as fast as he had put them on.

Letting out a yawn, Frankie raised his hands above his head so a sliver of his soft belly peaked out between his waistband and shirt hem before making his way into the bathroom, sleepily padding along the tile floor until his body was behind yours, chest flushed against your back and arms wrapped around your waist. Even more prevalent, his bulge pressed against your ass, making the wet spot in your underwear grow damper by the second.

“You ready for bed, querida?” Frankie cooed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder and smiling at your reflections in the mirror.

While you were absolutely ready to get into bed, sleeping was not going to be your activity of choice.

“I think that maybe…” You paused, turning around to face Frankie, his body caging yours against the counter, palms splayed flat on either side of your hips, looking down at you with his sweet, brown eyes, “I think that maybe we should do something else before we go to sleep.”

“Something else, huh?” Frankie smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as your hands began to run up and down his arms, slightly squeezing the muscles of his biceps as your fingers crept under the fabric of his shirt sleeves. “And what might that something else be, Hermosa?”

“You know exactly what it is, Fransisco. You expect me to watch you just roam around shirtless in our bedroom and not get all hot and bothered? God, you’re so fucking hot.” You moaned, letting your hands run up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him in for a long, electric kiss.

“Damn, what’s gotten into you, babe?” Frankie chuckled, trying his best not to blush at your comment, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I don’t- Fuck, I don’t know, I just know that if you don’t fuck me right this second, I think I’m gonna explode.”

While your statement may have had a flair for the dramatic, it was just about as close to the God’s honest truth as you could get- You were so worked up, you felt practically feral, the ache in your core so strong that you really did feel like you were on the verge of implosion.

Before you even gave Frankie time to respond, your lips were crashing into his with a ferocious intensity, your hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt as you stumbled back towards your bedroom, bodies bumping and bouncing against the walls and door frames, mouths never parting as the back of Frankie’s knees finally hit the mattress, forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed.

Crawling overtop of him, you were already straddled over his hips, grinding your bottom half on the bulge growing in his pajamas as your hands crept under the hem of his t-shirt, running along the tanned, soft skin of his chest, making him let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat.

Frantically shuffling himself further onto the bed, Frankie’s hands dug into your hips and over your ass as your hands slid down from his chest to his waistband, fingers tugging at the elastic to shuffle his bottoms and boxers down his legs, quickly followed by your own, dropping to a crumpled pile on the floor.

Feeling your fingers wrap around his cock, already painfully hard, you swirled the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb before dragging your hand up and down his length, leaving Frankie sitting up in surprise while he watched you begin to hover over him, dragging his dick through your folds.

“Hermosa, are you sure you don’t need me to-” But before Frankie could finish the rest of his protest to make sure you were ready to take him, you were already sinking down onto him, whimpering at the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness, followed by the ragged moan escaping Frankie’s lips.

“Oh fuck… Nuh uh, Frankie. I need to feel you, baby. Needed to feel you inside me.” You whined, taking Frankie cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

Normally with Frankie’s size, you would have needed to warm you up first, but with how wet and worked up you already were, you were able to take him with ease, desperate to feel him buried deep inside you.

“Jesus fucking christ, queirda, you’re so fucking wet. Fuck, baby.” Frankie moaned, feeling you begin to slide up and down his length, coating him with your arousal with each swirl of your hips.

Arching your back, you jutted your hips forward, bracing your hands on Frankie’s strong thighs, circling your bottom half against his, whimpering at his fullness and the hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your clit, selfishly already longing to chase your own high to ease the ache that had been burning in your core.

“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. Feel so fucking full with you in me.” You whimpered, bouncing even harder and faster on Frankie’s cock, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping his and wetness dripping from your heat coating the walls of your bedroom.

“Yeah? This what you wanted, pretty girl? Wanted me to stretch this pretty little pussy out and fill you up?” Frankie groaned, gritting his teeth as he began to jut his hips up into yours as you rode him, the added depth of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure.

And for as fucking good as it felt, the horny monster you had morphed into had you greedily craving more- to have Frankie stretch you open in a way that had you seeing stars, so much that you could still feel the next day, long after the two of you were finished.

“I-I want more, p-please, baby. Fuck- Fuck me harder, Fransisco.” You cried, your sweet voice whimpering his full name turning him almost as feral as you were, letting out a low growl as he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you so that your back hit the mattress and he was caging his broad body over yours.

Practically ripping the t-shirt still covering your upper half off your body, Frankie dove face first between your breasts, groping one while hungrily sucking at the other, flicking your pebbled nipple with his tongue, his free hand reaching down to line his cock back up with your entrance, sliding back in to your aching core with ease.

Frankie let himself sink all the way back in, filling you to the brim before hooking his arms around your knees, pressing your legs against your stomach, smirking to himself at the ragged moan you let out as the new angle opened you up even further.

“You want me to fuck you harder, Hermosa?” Frankie mewled, slowly dragging his length out of your heat, looking down to see your shiny slick soaking his cock before looking back at you and the wrecked expression plastered across your face, frantically nodding in desperation. “Tell me how badly you want it, sweet girl.”

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Fransisco, please.” You begged, damn near close to tears with how deeply you needed to feel Frankie ease the emptiness inside you. “Please, baby, I- oh fuck-”

Before you could even finish the rest of your plea, your breath was already hitched in the back of your throat as Frankie began to pound into you at a relentless pace, tightening his grip around your thighs while he pressed them closer to your chest, grunting with each rut of his hips into yours.

“This what you want, querida? Meirda- so fucking wet and tight, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, holy fuck.”

It didn’t take long for the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine to start spreading through your body like a wildfire as Frankie continued to slam into your g-spot, making you chant his name like a prayer, your brain at a loss for any other words than “Fuck, Fransisco.”

And as if you already weren’t close enough, when Frankie reached down to thumb at your clit, rubbing in relentless circles against your sensitive nub, you knew you were a fucking goner.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Cum for me, baby. Want that- oh fuck- want that prefect pussy to fucking soak me.” Frankie groaned, feverishly pounding into you, desperate to feel you come undone for him giving him long enough to fight off his own high that was rapidly building in the pit of his stomach.

A few more thrusts were all it took to have the coil snapping in your belly, crying out Frankie’s name as you came, orgasm ripping through your body with a blinding intensity, eyes scrunching shut and jaw hanging open while pleasure and euphoria flowed through every ounce of you.

Still blissed out and wrecked out of your mind, your eyes shot open as Frankie’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans in a messy dance of tongues and teeth.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Jesus fuck- fuck, I’m close too, baby. W-where do you want me, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, barley holding on long enough for you to answer, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his hips began to stutter, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow with every ounce of self control he had left.

Still barley coherent enough to form a sentence, your brain blurted out the only thing you could think of, and the only thing that you really wanted in the moment.

“Inside, Fransisco. Fuck, cum inside me, baby.”

That alone was almost enough to send Frankie over the edge, letting out a long, low groan, sloppily rutting into you as his brain went blank alongside yours, starting to babble incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- you want me to fill you up, queirda? Fuck, I’ll fucking fill you up so good you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Oh fuck, shit baby, fuck, oh I’m gonnaahhhhhh-“

Just like that, Frankie took one last thrust, spilling deep inside you, coating your walls with his spend as his body slumped into yours, the pair of your chests rising and falling in sync as you both came back down to earth.

“Jesus Christ… Holy fuck, Frankie.” You giggled quietly to yourself, blissfully filled with post orgasm ecstasy as your husband carefully pulled himself out before rolling over next to you on the bed, pulling you close against his chest.

“Fuck me, Hermosa, holy shit.” Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, tracing small circles on your back as he held you, heat radiating off of each other's sweat-ridden bodies. “God, I love you. We should probably get you cleaned up. You wanna shower?” He asked, smirking as your face lit up at his nearly rhetorical question.

“Only if you’re up for round 2, Morales.”

“My eyes are up here, Fransisco.”

“Hmmm? What did you say?”

“Exactly my point. Can you stop looking with your man eyes and look with your normal, helpful people eyes to help me decide on a dress for Benny and Victoria’s wedding?” You sighed, laughing to yourself as you raised an eyebrow at Frankie, his gaze still fixed on your chest.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be helpful.” Frankie huffed, overdramatically rolling his eyes at you, playfully throwing his hands up in defense as he leaned back against the dressing room door, looking you up and down in one of the cute floral dresses you had picked to try on for your friends’ upcoming wedding. “It’s just that… Nevermind.”

“It’s just that what, Frank?” You asked tilting your head in confusion at your husband as his eyes traveled back to your breasts, furled look in his brow like he was really staring there to prove a point.

“It’s just that- Baby, I don’t know if it’s just the dress or what, but your boobs look huge. Like, they always look good, believe me, but like… Whew.” Frankie whistled, practically shaking his head in disbelief at how good you looked.

“Really?” You asked, turning around to face the mirror in the dressing room, gently cupping your breasts, grimacing as you held them in your hands. “Yeah, I guess they do… Honestly, I was gonna complain about how sore they’ve been all day. I wonder if maybe my period is just coming early?”

“Maybe? You did ride me pretty hard the last couple nights and put on a good show, so maybe they hurt from all that bouncing and-”

“Frankie! We are in public!” You playfully scolded, giving him a flimsy slap to the chest to cut off the rest of his thought, the two of you quietly giggling to yourselves and trying to “Shhhh” each other from drawing too much attention to your dressing room stall. “The dress, you goofball, yes or no? Sooner we pick, the sooner we can go get food, because your wife is starving.”

“I vote yes on the dress. You look beautiful in it, querida.” Frankie smiled, stepping behind you to press a kiss on the side of your head.

“You just like it because it makes my boobs look huge.”

“What? Can you blame me for wanting to stare at my gorgeous wife’s boobs all night?”

“God, you are ridiculous, Fransisco. Fine, boob dress wins. Now let’s get out of here and go get some food before you get stuck in a titty trance and I die of hunger.”

While the rest of your Saturday was spent enjoying the delicious Mexican food that you had picked up on the way home and a much needed night in on the couch with Frankie, there was a tiny part of your brain that couldn’t seem to shake his comment from earlier about how big your boobs looked.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him, because truth be told, they felt huge, too. They had been sore since you had woken up this morning, and while you had chalked it up to what you and Frankie had been up to the past few nights, or bad PMS symptoms, there was still just something about you that felt off.

Later that night, during your movie marathon, you had paused whatever new action movie Frankie had been begging to watch since it had popped up on Netflix a few days ago for a popcorn refill.

While Frankie meandered around the kitchen waiting for the next bag of popcorn to finish popping, you stayed curled up with your blanket in your corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, until a sharp twinge began to cramp in your lower stomach. The feeling took you by surprise, digging your fingers into your side to try and ease the dull and achy sensation as your face scrunched in confusion, wondering why in the world you had what felt like period cramps in your belly.

“Hey, you okay, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, returning with popcorn in hand, his face painted with concern to see the pained look scrunched between your brow as you curled deeper into the couch.

“Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. I just um, I just had a weird cramp I guess. Probably just ate all that popcorn too fast.” You replied, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Frankie that you were overthinking whatever mystery symptoms had just flashed through your lower half.

“Here, lemme just set this popcorn down and then I can rub your back while we finish the movie, okay?” Frankie smiled softly, setting down the bowl on the coffee table before crawling back under the sea of blankets on the couch with you, laying your head against his thigh like a pillow while his hand traced up and down along the small of your back.

“Thanks, Frankie.” You whispered quietly, taking a few deep breaths as the familiar warmth of your husband’s palm worked up and down the worn fabric of his shirt that you had put on earlier.

“Of course, baby. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Just promise me you’ll take it easy on the popcorn if you have any more there, Killer.”

The two of you laughed quietly as Frankie leaned down to press a soft kiss into your messy hair laid across his lap before picking up the remote to let the rest of the movie play as your eyelids began to get heavier and heavier as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“What’s inside this box?”

“Open it up and find out! It’s a surprise for you!”

“Okay? Huh, why is it just a pregnancy test in there?”

“It’s yours! Congratulations! You’re having a baby!”

“Ahhhhh!” You shrieked, panting as you woke from a cold sweat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck…” You whispered to yourself, coming to and realizing that you were now awake and had only been dreaming moments before this. Running your hands over your face, you blinked a few times to be greeted by the dim light of the TV still flickering in the background, Frankie sprawled out and snoring by your side where the two of you must have fallen asleep on the couch during the movie.

“What a weird fucking dream…” You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you quietly pushed yourself off the couch to stumble to the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to check what ungodly hour of the night it had to be since the two of you had crashed on the couch.

2:07 A.M.

You let out a low grumble, pushing your sweatpants down to your ankles as you sat down to pee, blinking your eyes open wider to look through the notifications piled on top of each other on your lockscreen. Mindlessly swiping through a few junk emails and text messages from group chats, one notification in particular caught your eye, rousing you from your half awake state.

“Feeling down? As you begin your Luteal Phase of your cycle, it’s normal to be less cheerful compared to last week when you were Ovulating! Click to track your cycle symptoms for today!”

Oh shit.

You could feel your heart beginning to race as you opened up the app, scrolling to the calendar tracker for the month. Swiping through the days, it didn’t take you long to realize that despite all of your weird symptoms you had been chalking up to PMS, you were almost two weeks away from starting your period. Frantically scrolling backwards, you began to try and rack your brain of all of the times in the past week that you had sex with Frankie while you would have been ovulating, and out of that number, how many times he hadn’t finished inside you, let alone even attempt to pull out.

And that number was a big, fat zero.

That’s when it hit you like a fucking freight train- You weren’t PMS-ing.

More than likely, you were pregnant.

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling and heart pounding as you buried your face in your trembling hands, your mind flooding with a million different thoughts all at once.

How could you not remember that you were ovulating? Would Frankie be upset? The two of you weren’t even trying for kids right now. Would you be a good Mom? What were you even going to need to do to prepare? Your house was starting to get small for just you and Frankie, let alone a baby. How were you going to find a new place to live in 9 months? And get a new car? How were you-

“Baby, you good in there?” Frankie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a yawn as he opened the door, bright light flooding into the hallway and revealing the sobbing mess you had become, still pants down, hunched over the toilet.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Baby, baby, what’s going on? Talk to me, Hermosa. Are you okay? What happened?” You could feel Frankie’s demeanor immediately switch as soon as he saw you in the bathroom, instantly dropping to his knees by your side, his hands gently grabbing your face to shift your gaze towards him, carefully swiping his thumb to dry the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks.

“Frankie, I- I- Fuck.” You stuttered, gulping hard as you tried to catch your breath, fighting back your nervous sobs as you locked eyes with Frankie, wondering how in the world you were ever about to brace him for the news you were about to tell him.

“Hermosa, what is it? Please, tell me baby, what’s wrong?” Frankie pleaded, softly squeezing your face in reassurance as he waited for your response.

You took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself enough to at least try to get a coherent thought out, swallowing hard as the words left your mouth.

“Frankie, I-, Frankie, I think- I think I’m pregnant.”

Frankie’s eyes went wide, his jaw practically hanging open as he tried to process what you had just told him, wondering if he hadn’t heard you right in his groggy state.

“W-what?”

“I think I might be pregnant, Frankie.”

Before you could even bear the thought of looking at his face again, filled with fear that it would be a look of shock and disappointment, you buried your face in your hands again, fighting with everything in you not to cry and keep your composure.

Frankie sat quietly for a moment, his hand covering up the gaping hole his jaw had made as it nearly hit the floor, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling your hands to look at him.

“R-really? You- fuck- You really think you’re pregnant?”

As your eyes met his, you couldn’t believe the look on your husbands face- Not only was Frankie practically grinning from ear to ear, the sweet brown of his puppy dog eyes were welling with happy tears of their own, waiting on your every word as if he still didn’t believe what he was hearing. Silently, you began to slowly nod your head, biting down on your tongue, your heart feeling like it was about to shoot out of your chest.

“You’re...y-you’re not upset?” You stammered, sitting up a little taller at Frankie’s reaction.

“Upset? Hermosa, why in the world would I ever be upset?” Frankie laughed quietly, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as his other hand cupped your jaw. “Querida… There’s nothing more I want on this earth than to have a family. And-fuck- The fact that it gets to be with you? That you might give me a family? How could I ever be upset about that?

“Well it’s not like we were really trying for a baby, Frank. We said another year or two. With the house and money -”

“Hey. We’ll figure it all out, okay? I promise, we’ll be more than okay.” Frankie smiled, his goofy grin still stretched wide between his cheeks, finally easing some of your worry.

“I don’t even feel like I’m old enough to have a kid. I feel like I need to call up MTV to tell them I’ll be on the next season of 16 and Pregnant.” The two of you snorted, shaking your heads in awestruck disbelief that a stupid joke about a reality TV show could soon become your reality.

“Well considering we’re married, have a house, and most importantly, are much closer to 30 than we are 16, I think they may have a hard time pitching the show “Married Couple Has a Baby”.” Frankie teased, giving you a playful nudge as the two of you laughed, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before trying to dig into details. “Did- Did you take a test? How long have you known?”

“No, I don’t know for sure yet, Frank. It’s… It’s just a feeling, I guess. But the huge, sore boobs, weird, period-like cramps and the fact that we really haven’t been the most careful are all pretty good clues.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know, we’ve tried to be care-”

Before Frankie could even finish the rest of his thought, you were already giving him the sassiest look you could muster in your overwhelmed and sleepy state, making the two of you laugh again he let out a sigh of defeat.

“Okay, yeah, we really haven’t been that careful at all. Sweetie, listen, I- I know it’s not what we had planned, but… I mean, if you are pregnant…” Frankie paused, smiling at your stomach as he gently place a hand over your belly, tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes, “Baby, I would be so excited. Nervous as hell, but so fucking excited.”

“Me too.” You sniffed, looking down at Frankie’s palm splayed across your stomach, heart swelling at the thought of Frankie being dad, thinking of how sweet and caring and perfect he’d be as you grew your little family together. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Frankie in close, letting out a shaky sigh, whispering your words through happy tears.

“I love you so much, Frankie.”

“I love you so much too, Hermosa. More than anything.”

For the sake of Frankie’s shoulder, you pulled away to wipe your tears to keep from soaking your husband’s shirt, quietly laughing to yourself at the fact that this whole time you had been talking to Frankie, you had still been pantsless, hunched over the toilet.

“It probably would have been way more romantic to tell you all of this not at 2:30 in the morning, pantsless and hunched over the toilet like a little gremlin.” You snorted, Frankie following suit as he shook his head, running his hand through the sleepy curls of your hair.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, mi amor. C’mon, let’s get you up to bed.”

As the two of you sleepily trotted your way upstairs, curling together under the warmth of your comforter with Frankie’s chest pressed against your back, you couldn’t help but smile as his arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on your belly while his thumb traced soft circles on your skin, imagining what it would be like if a few months from now if you really were getting ready to add another member to your family.

The next morning, as the sunrise began to spill through your curtains, casting bright orange and pink shadows on your bedroom walls, you couldn’t help but stir as the familiar scent and warmth of Frankie’s body was missing from his side of the bed.

As you sat up in the sea of blankets and comforters, softly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw Frankie’s frame quietly sneaking through the bedroom door, fresh mug of coffee and bag of breakfast in hand with a stupid smile plastered across his face as he was greeted with your barely awake grin.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Frankie cooed, setting down the coffee and breakfast down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, pressing a tender kiss into the sleep-ridden ends of your hair before wrapping his arms around you in a long embrace.

“Good morning, handsome.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a little grunt and laying your head on Frankie’s shoulder. “What’s all this for?” You asked, gesturing towards the coffee and oversized McDonald’s bag, assuming it was the reason for Frankie’s absence when you woke up.

“I- I don’t know, I uh- I was just really excited when I got up this morning. It was early, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I made a trip to CVS to buy some pregnancy tests for you and figured I’d pick up breakfast on the way home.” Frankie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, brushing past his untamed morning curls. “I know- I know you can’t really take the tests yet- I spent a lot of time reading the boxes in the store and wasn’t really sure what the best one was to take, so I got like, 4 different ones for when it's time.”

“God, you’re so sweet. You’re the best, you know that? It’s about to be a long week of waiting before I can take one of those. Do you- fuck, Frankie, do you think it could really be positive?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes again as you smiled up at your husband, already beaming back at you, picturing the two pink lines showing up on all of the tests he had bought for you.

“Maybe, if we’re lucky.” He smirked, gently cupping your face, swiping his thumb across your face. “But if it’s not, then maybe… Maybe we start trying for a positive one on purpose.”

“R-really?” You grinned, biting down on your lip in excitement.

“Really, really.” Frankie replied, bringing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss, soaking in the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “And maybe…”

“Maybe, what, Fransisco?” You giggled, bringing your mouth back to his in a sweet and sloppy kiss.

“Maybe…. We start trying right now, ya know, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want all those pregnancy tests to go to waste.”

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looneyleyle · 6 months

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valse triste ~ r. cameron

synopsis: the ever forbidden love story between a pogue and a kook, a woman and death. after all, life imitates art far more than art imitates life (oscar wilde).

warnings: ig death mentioned, fighting, cameron-family typical warnings, i made oc portuguese but it's rlly not a prominent thing or anything.

words: 6181 words

notes: i was really excited about this idea!! lmk if you guys want more stuff like this!!

third person pov

valse triste is a piece composed by jean sibelius in 1903 for the finnish play "kuolema" (in english, "death"). the play, written by sibelius's brother-in-law, follows a woman on her death bed who is visited by death himself late in the night.

camila matos. pogue. a witty, beautiful girl raised on the cut. friend of john b, jj, kiara, and pope. an observer, always preferring to stay on the sidelines and take everything in. the best surfer of the pogues, which went hand in hand with her job at the country club as a lifeguard.

"ayo camila, heading back to the chateau?" jj asked after their shifts had finished.

"nah, i'm on little brother duty tonight while my parents work the late night shift. i'll pop in tomorrow before the boneyard though." she replied, grabbing her bike from the rack. just as she was about to ride off, a sleek, black range rover promptly cut her off and zoomed into the country club. a middle finger and flurry of obscenities left the blonde boy next to her's mouth.

"fucking asshole. one day he's gonna get what's coming for him." jj mumbled.

"he's a cameron, what do you expect?"

rafe cameron. king of the kooks. a hotheaded coke-addicted psychopath, at least in the eyes of the pogues. always flanked by his posse of kelce and topper. ever the impulsive, ending seemingly every party covered in blood, though usually not his own.

"what's up man?" topper greeted as rafe sat down at their table.

"hear about the boneyard party tomorrow?" kelce asked, not waiting for the man's reply. "lots of tourons around this time of year. i know ward has been on your back about the company. could be a good way to let off some steam" at the mention of his father, rafe's jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensing.

"yeah, i might stop by."

the piece is divided into six prominent sections.

first, the invitation.

death knocks on the woman’s door and invites her to dance. the woman refuses, knowing of death and his intentions. death asks once again, only this time, the woman concedes, albeit reluctantly.

the party was in full swing by the time camila and the pogues got there. a couple empty kegs were scattered around, discarded red solo cups littering the ground.

"no fights this time guys. i mean it, we can't afford any more trouble." kiara warned the group, a pointed glare thrown at john b and jj.

"no fights." john b promised, hands raised up at kiara's accusatory glare.

"i make no promises. the kooks have it coming." jj commented, already looking at the group of kooks by the nearest keg. kie and jj started bickering, with pope and john b heading to one of the farther kegs to avoid kook central. camila rolled her eyes, not afraid of some entitled pricks.

as she made her way to the spout of the keg, she heard a voice from behind her.

"what's a girl like you doing over here?" the voice taunted. she rolled her eyes, continuing to pour herself a drink.

"ha ha rafe, do you really have nothing better to do than to go around picking fights?" she quipped, topping off her drink and turning to face the man. he was wearing a plain grey tee and some khaki shorts, completely overdressed compared to all the shirtless men roaming around. an amused smirk played across his lips, his eyes swimming with trouble.

"i'm not picking any fights sweetheart, i'm just making conversation. it's called being polite, you should try it sometime." he teased, towering over the girl. their height difference did nothing to deter her or her smart mouth.

"you wouldn't know polite if it crashed into your pretty little range rover. besides, i am being polite. i've just spent a whole minute talking to you and i haven't even kicked you in the balls."

"such a sweet way with words you have." camila rolled her eyes, starting to walk away from the man.

"ah yes, my goal in life, to make men swoon." as her back finally turned on rafe, he grabbed her arm, stopping her from going any further.

"rafe, i swear to god-"

"dance with me." he said, pulling her back towards him.

"why in the world would i dance with you?" camila asked, her mind reeling from the question. when has rafe cameron ever shown anything but anger towards the pogues? and now he's not only being somewhat civil, but asking to dance?

"just one dance, that's all i'm asking for. then i'll get out of your hair."

camila weighed the pros and cons, ultimately deciding that he would only get more annoying and more persistent the longer she denied him. and so, she stopped struggling against his hold, earning a victorious smirk from rafe.

"see? now that wasn't that hard, was it?" he patronized, leading her to a more secluded area.

"don't push your luck cameron." she then noticed just how far away they were from the rest of the partiers.

"if you're pulling me away from everyone to murder me, i'm-"

"relax, it's so your pogue buddies don't try and jump me for being near you. i don't think you want them seeing you either, dancing with their sworn enemy and all." he huffed, coming to a stop behind a pile of driftwood.

then, the dance.

the tempo picks up, albeit timidly, as death and the woman gain their bearings. the music is soft, reflecting the woman's unsureness of dancing with this stranger. their movements are sharp and calculated, as if measuring each other.

then, the music swells into a swinging waltz. death and the woman twist and turn in a flurry of dips, spins, and twirls, no longer rigid with distrust. the woman enjoys her time, carried away by the music, until she remembers just who her dance partner is.

the music was indiscernible, but still audible despite being so far away. some sort of slow-ish song played, and rafe took both of camila's hands in his, starting to sway them back and forth lazily.

"so c'mon, why'd you ask me to dance with you?" camila interrogated. rafe let out a sigh, his jaw clenching ever so slightly.

"i can't just want to talk to you?"

"i'm a pogue, rafe. one of those people you treat like shit? or have you forgotten?" she pointed out. rafe stayed quiet for a second, still moving them around in the dance.

"everyone just agrees with me all the time and it's fucking annoying. but you don't, you keep it real." he explained shortly, refusing to look at her. her heart jumped for a second, though she kept her face neutral.

"so i say something to you and it's 'keeping it real', but pope says the same thing and you start swinging?" she continued. his grip on her hands tightened a bit.

"he's a punk." was all rafe could come up with. camila smirked at that, but bit her cheek to prevent any further comments.

"so what do you like to do besides terrorize us pogues?"

and with that, one song turned to two, and two turned to four, until the two lost track of time. they eventually switched from dancing to sitting down on some driftwood, chatting away about themselves. camila learned that besides doing coke and making their lives hell, he likes to golf and fish. he has two younger sisters, sarah and wheezie, who annoy the everliving daylights out of him, but whom he cares for deeply nonetheless. he has a father who is constantly on his ass about everything, which tends to be the cause for his drug usage. he even admitted that he wants to get clean, but can't seem to stop.

rafe already knew more than he cared to share about camila. as creepy as it sounded, he would always notice when she was around, observing her. she was fit, good with a board, and wouldn't go around picking fights like the rest of the pogues. he did learn a bit more of the less obvious things about her, like that she has a younger brother, joao, and parents who work day in and day out running one of the only gas stations on the cut.

the two were laughing about some story about camila's brother when they heard a loud "what the fuck?!" coming from behind them. they turned to see jj, who was followed by a very confused looking kiara. it was that moment when camila realized just how close the two were sitting, and abruptly got up. she could have swore she heard a sigh coming from rafe, but she had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

"what the fuck are you doing over here with him?" jj seethed.

"look man, it-" rafe started, but was immediately cut off by camila.

"not now rafe." she mumbled. "jj, it's fine-"

"fine?!" jj had smoke coming out from his ears. "it's fine?! camila, have you forgotten everything this entitled douchebag has done to us?" camila didn't have a response to this. jj was right, rafe had given the pogues nothing but trouble for years, no good reason to trust him or even be near him. the man has tormented pogues for far too long, so why was she even entertaining a conversation with him?

"i'll take that as my queue to leave. it was nice talking with you camila. can't say the same to you maybank." rafe mumbled, already walking away, adding his pointed remark at the end.

"no no no, you don't get to walk away so easily rafe. what were you doing with camila-"

"jj, enough." kiara stopped him, holding him back from following rafe.

"oh, so we're just giving kooks free passes for trying to mack on our girls, i see how it is. that makes total sense." jj muttered, throwing his arms about in wide, angry gestures. he started walking back towards john b and pope, kie and camila following a couple paces behind.

"what were you doing with rafe?" she asked quietly. camila just looked around, wanting to be anywhere but the boneyard.

"nothing."

next, the rekindling.

death waits a moment for the woman to collect her thoughts. he asks again, slowly and gently, if she would like to continue. the woman hesitates, but agrees nonetheless.

a couple of days passed before camila saw rafe again. she got quite the mouthful from the pogues about the night, and didn't plan on revisiting that. so, she spent her days working at the country club, watching the waves to make sure no one was in trouble.

"well well well, look who it is." a pit sank in camila's stomach.

"hey rafe." she answered plainly. she knew jj was just a couple yards away, bussing tables. if he saw her talking to rafe again, he would probably go apeshit and lose his job.

"what's with the silent treatment? thought we had a nice conversation the other day." he asked, looking down at his hands through slanted eyes, fidgeting with his rings. he almost seemed nervous, but with his laid back posture and dry tone, he was anything but. it was almost intimidating the way he questioned her without even looking her way, yet she felt so compelled to answer.

"jj was right. you've done nothing but torment us for years. i don't owe you any conversation or dance or anything of the sort." he lifted an eyebrow at this, his focus now on the sea in front of them.

"i don't think i was tormenting you the other day." he said. he then finally looked at her, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into her soul. camila was always one to stand her ground, but his stare was too intense to hold.

"look, rafe, we're just too different. i mean, you're-"

"what, i'm a kook? is that your argument? c'mon camila, i thought we were past that bullshit by now." he drawled. camila refused to answer, causing him to sigh.

"look, i'm not- i'm not gonna force you to do something you don't want to, but i'm going to the mainland tomorrow, and i want you to come with." he stated, running a hand through his hair, no longer able to look at camila. her lack of response caused him to look back at her, and his face fell for a moment when she just stared back, no visual indication of leaning one way or the other.

"alright well, if you wanna come, i'll be outside the country club at 10." a couple beats passed, and he started walking away.

"make it outside the wreck at 10:30." she yelled out. he stopped in his tracks, looking back at her to give her what almost seemed to be a smile, and continued on back to the building. camila checked the deck, and luckily there was no jj in sight. she sighed, her heart racing.

what did i just get myself into? she thought, shaking away her thoughts and focusing back in on the waves.

the reunion.

death and the woman go back into the waltz. it begins quiet and slow, but quickly, the music soars, the woman being swept around by death in a frenzy of passion.

it was 10:30 on the dot, and no camila in sight. rafe had been anxiously tapping the steering wheel for the past five minutes, parked outside the wreck, getting a couple looks from the people on the sidewalks.

by 10:35, he had given up, letting his head hit the wheel. he was stood up.

"fuck!" he yelled, hitting the wheel.

"woah there, what're you all worked up about this early in the morning?" a voice asked from his passenger side. he looked over to see camila outside the rolled down window. rafe let out a breath before trying to find some excuse.

"i, uh- i got-"

"close your mouth pretty boy, you look like a fish." she laughed, getting into the car. she had on a white sundress with a red floral print, along with beaded and woven bracelets stacked on her wrists.

"sorry for being late, had to take joao to a friend's house before this."

"nah, it's fine, it's cool." he said, composing himself. they then took off, rafe's music filling the car. camila took the opportunity to study the man. he was wearing a blue polo and white shorts, some expensive watch on his wrist. his hair was a bit messy, which camila couldn't help but admire.

"so captain, what's the plan for today?" camila asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the silence between them. he just lazily rolled his head towards her, giving her a lopsided grin.

"you'll see."

the image burned itself into her memory, with his one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, and his cocky, pretty little face. camila mentally beat herself up for how easily she was caving for this man.

rafe ended up having quite a wonderful plan. they started off by walking around in a beautiful botanical garden, admiring all the pretty flowers and plants. then, he took her to a little corner cafe, treating her to lunch. after that, he took her to an art museum, knowing a surprising amount about the paintings on the walls.

"how do you know so much about these?" she asked, cutting him off from an explanation of the andy warhol work to their right. he slowed down a bit, hyper fixating on the paintings.

"my..." rafe took a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. he hated talking about anything real, but he knew that he wouldn't get anywhere with camila if he didn't open up a bit. "i didn't know my mom much before she was gone, but she loved art. she would take me and sarah here all the time and would go on and on about each painting. once she was... gone, rose tried to do the same for us, but it just wasn't the same. so, i filled in for mom, taking sarah around just like she would." he explained, trying to keep his voice level. he started fidgeting with his ring, to which camila placed her hand over his, taking it into her own. rafe looked down at her, looking into her big eyes that urged him to continue. he took in a deep breath and ran his free hand through his hair.

"i was nine. dad didn't take it too well, locking himself up in his office for days at a time. when rose entered the picture, sarah and i didn't really consider her a mom. still don't." he didn't seem to want to continue, so camila asked him about the next painting, relief filling rafe at the change in topic, very much aware of camila's hand still in his.

that night, while rafe drove them back to outer banks, camila couldn't find it in her to dislike him anymore. she understood where he was coming from, which totally did not justify the things he had done to the pogues, but allowed her to empathize with why he did what he did. at his core, he was just a boy who never truly got to feel the love of a family, who had to step up at an early age and suffer from constant pressure from his work-obsessed father.

when rafe parked outside of her house, camila just sat there, not wanting the day to end.

"i had a lot of fun today." she told him, looking up at him with those same big eyes from before. rafe couldn't breathe, he didn't know what was wrong with him. he had never been this affected by anyone in his life.

"yeah, me too." the tension in the car was quickly climbing, both sitting there, waiting to see what the other would do.

"give me your phone." camila ordered, breaking up the tension. rafe just blinked for a second, the words taking a moment to process in his head. then, he quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to the girl. she typed away for a second before handing it back.

"i'll see you later rafe." and with that, she was out the door and gone, rafe staring at his phone.

new contact!

camila ☼ (xxx) xxx-xxxx

after that, rafe and camila found themselves seeing each other all the time, behind the pogues' backs, of course. he would pick her up from shifts, taking her back to his to go on the boat, or walking along the beach. she even tried to teach him how to surf, but to no avail. they would spend late nights wrapped up in blankets, watching some horror movie or dumb comedy. she was helping him to find healthier coping habits to deal with the constant stress and thoughts he would have, even getting him to schedule a consultation with a therapist on the mainland. the experience was new for the both of them, so surprisingly domestic considering their fiery personalities. of course, there was still the constant banter and snarky comments, but there were also vulnerable conversations, and moments in which they would just hold each other, trying to wash away the other's worries.

then, the turmoil.

the woman battles with herself. to give herself to death, to give in to what she know she needs, or to fight back and remain as she is?

of course, the two were destined to face some troubles. in fact, they were surprised that they got through a whole month and a half without being caught or having anyone suspicious of them.

it was kiara who first noticed something. everyone was at the chateau, just bumming about, laying in the hammocks and splayed across the furniture. camila's phone was going off like crazy when the girl stepped inside to make a sandwich. kie, who was the closest to her phone, picked it up to silence it, but noticed the contact that was blowing her up.

my bitch boy <3 when are you coming over i have popcorn i even got those candies that you like c'mon, no one's home rn, but we don't have all day

kiara looked up at the others, all of them off in their own little worlds. kiara silenced the notifications and got back in her seat.

"hey guys?" she started when camila entered the room again. everyone mumbled some noise of acknowledgement. "wanna head out to the beach tonight? supposed to be a really clear sky tonight, we can do some stargazing."

"yeah, sounds good to me."

"sounds kinda boring, can i bring a j?"

"sure."

"sorry, i can't tonight." kiara looked up at the girl.

"you can't? why not?" she pushed, trying to keep it subtle.

"oh, i have to watch my little brother. parents working late again tonight."

"ah, i see, you're all good." kiara replied, but remained skeptical.

not thirty minutes later, camila left, bidding the group goodnight. kiara watched her calculatedly as she left.

"what's that look for?" pope asked, noticing the strange behavior of his friend.

"we'll see..."

the next person to notice was jj. the two would always purposely work the same shifts so they could bike back to the cut together. but, camila claimed that she had to work overtime the past couple of weeks. when he took a peek at the lifeguarding schedule on the wall, however, it said she had requested to change her hours, not work overtime like she claimed.

next, john b. jj was on his typical kook rant, and when rafe's name got mentioned, camila visibly cringed. john b looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed.

pope, the supposed smart one of the group, was the last to figure out that something was up. camila had to take an urgent call, going inside while everyone else was waxing up their boards. pope, however, really needed to take a piss, and followed shortly behind her. as he went into the bathroom, he could hear camila's voice on the other side of the wall. he tried not to listen in, he really did, but he couldn't help himself.

"rafe, c'mon, i've been at your place nearly every day for the past week. i need some pogue time tonight. they're going surfing and... i know, we can hang out tomorrow. ok, i'll talk to you later. bye."

pope couldn't believe his ears, did he hear her right? why was she talking to rafe? why did she say she had been at his house for the past week? she had told the group she was working extra shifts for a sick coworker.

when camila came back, she started waxing her board while chatting with john b and jj, giving pope a chance to share this newfound information.

"hey kie? c'mere for a second." he whispered, moving away from the chatty surfers.

"what's up?"

"i just overhead camila on the phone with rafe cameron." kiara's jaw dropped for a second, the pieces connecting in her mind.

"oh my god. and you're sure it was him? couldn't be anyone else?"

"how many rafe's do you know in the outer banks, cuz i can only think of one." he replied in a hushed, snarky tone. the two looked back at the rest of the group, who were blissfully unaware of the secret meeting going on a couple yards away. kiara simply nodded at pope, formulating a plan in her head.

that night, once everyone was done surfing and a bonfire was starting, kie enacted her plan.

"hey camila, i heard rafe talking about you the other day." she said, feigning confusion. camila's face paled.

"that fucking asshole, he better keep her name out of his mouth!" jj yelled out.

"what did he say about me?" she asked, trying to mask her horror.

"i don't really remember, but the odd thing is? i don't remember him saying a single bad thing." camila breathed out a small sigh of relief, which didn't go undetected by john b.

"that's weird. maybe he's turning over a new leaf or something?" she suggested. jj snorted at that.

"are you kidding? rafe cameron, change? he'll always be the same entitled asshole for the rest of his life, no doubt about it." pope scoffed. camila's hand clenched against her thigh, but she refused to let them know. that reaction right there was the reason why she could never say anything to them. they hate him too much, they would never give him a chance.

"look, i gotta go, i forgot i told joao that i'd get up early tomorrow to teach him how to surf. g'night guys." camila lied, getting her stuff and leaving them. everyone in the circle looked around at each other, inquisitive glances everywhere.

"something's going on." john b remarked, everyone nodding along.

when rafe didn't hear from camila for two days, he got worried. he understood that she could be busy, she would often put her phone on do not disturb for days at a time when she was particularly stressed and didn't want the added social burden of technology. but two days without a single call or text was unheard of.

my bitch boy <3 camila? you okay? haven't heard from you in a while? are you sick? i can bring over some soup if you want

no answer. for three hours rafe paced around his room, trying to occupy himself with something, anything to get his mind off of her. she could be busy, she could be working.

but rafe's brain wouldn't stop. worries of her being sick of him, finally realizing what a screw-up he is invaded his mind. she was the one person that he felt truly understood him, and he wouldn't give that up that easily.

he had to force himself to not drive over to her house. they had just had a talk about healthy boundaries the other day, and going to her house and pounding on the door to see that she was alive was not an example of healthy boundaries. so, he called her.

after a couple rings, she picked up.

"hey, are you alright? haven't heard from you in a while." he started, trying to seem as calm and cool about this, despite him freaking out on the inside.

"uh, yeah, i'm ok..." she trailed off. rafe could tell that there was something wrong, she would normally launch off into how her day was, telling rafe every minute detail of her day.

"i can tell something's wrong. did something happen at work? with the pogues? is joao ok?" he asked, rattling off possible problems. she let out a slight laugh. in all reality, his worry made her heart soar. she was never worried that rafe was using her or anything, but the confirmation that he noticed the tiny changes in her mood and cared to make it better had her heart doing flips.

"i just- kie knows. i can tell. she brought you up the other day and-" rafe could hear sobs coming from the other end of the line. "she looked so disappointed in me. and god, the things they say about you, they'd never hear me out." rafe's heart broke at this. in his mind, there was only one solution to this problem. she couldn't have both him and the pogues. and when it came to choosing between someone and rafe, the odds were never in his favor.

"i love them so much, they're my best friends, and i don't want to lose them, but i don't want to lose you either."

"i understand. i know how much they mean to you. i wouldn't want to keep you from them." he spoke, eyes tearing up as he twisted his ring around with his thumb.

"i- no, that's not what i'm saying rafe. i'm not giving you up, not in a million years. i, god, i don't know how to describe how much you mean to me. i just don't know how to make them see that you're not this monster they think you are."

"but baby, what if... what if they're right? i mean, i'm no saint. i'm fucked up in the head and i've done terrible things to you guys that i have no way of making up to you guys." he continued, starting to spiral.

"breathe, rafe, breathe. we've talked about this. yes, you've had some not great moments in the past. but look at how far you've come. you haven't gone to barry in months. you're starting to see a therapist. you haven't been in a fight in months. and i'm so proud of you for your progress, and i'm gonna be here with you every step of the way, no matter what happens." she poured. he nodded, even though she couldn't see through the phone. it was quiet for a minute, before...

"come over." she told him. his eyes went wide, she had never invited him over to her place. he wasn't dumb, he knew it was because of their status. when she first walked into the cameron mansion, she looked so uncomfortable and small. it got better as the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, but she never truly got over how big and empty the house felt. rafe had seen her house from the outside, a little ranch house surrounded by trees. they in no way shape or form lived in even similar situations, and it was a tense part of their relationship, or whatever they wanted to call themselves.

"i'll be there in 15."

when rafe got to camila's house, he was bombarded by little 13 year old joao, who had been kicking a soccer ball outside the house.

"are you rafe? like the rafe? the one my sister's dating?" rafe smiled at the boy. knowing that camila had talked about him to her family... knowing that she had talked about him and joao's first reaction wasn't to flinch away... it wasn't something he was used to.

"ay, joao, let the man breathe." rafe heard camila yell. he looked up to the front door to see her there, wrapped up in a blanket. the two boys made their way to her, rafe immediately wrapping his arms around her.

"hey." he whispered into her hair.

"hey." she mumbled into his chest.

"hey, i'm still here!" pouted joao, giving the two the same big eyes that camila would give rafe. it ran in the family, he supposed.

the three walked into the house, running into camila's mother in the kitchen.

"hello mrs. matos. i'm rafe cameron." he introduced cordially, sticking out his hand stiffly to the woman. joao giggled to himself, while a smile spread on camila's face. rafe gave them a confused look before he was crushed into a bone-breaking hug from camila's mom.

"it's so good to finally meet you rafe. i've heard so much about you." she gushed. rafe remained tense in the hug, trying to ease into it, but not used to the touch.

"all bad things i presume." he joked, but mrs. matos gave him a pointed look.

"you wouldn't be standing in this house if i had heard bad things about you kiddo." she quipped, moving back to the kettle on the stovetop. rafe looked over at camila and gave her a dopey, lovesick smile that he couldn't repress, not used to someone thinking so highly of him.

"c'mon, let's go to my room." she directed, dragging him to another room.

"i want that door open filha! no funny business!"

"yeah yeah mãe, i know."

"see ya rafe!" joao called out, bouncing on over to his own room.

"see ya kiddo." he called out with a big smile on his face. rafe had never felt so... homey before. it was a nice change in pace.

when rafe entered camila's room, he took a minute to just admire all the decorations. a broken surfboard hung like a decoration on her wall, surrounded by photos of her, her family, and the pogues. as he looked at each of the pictures, he found one from their first "date". it was a candid of him looking at one of the paintings in the museum. his heart couldn't take it, it couldn't physically take the sheer amount of emotions he had felt since entering this home. he felt arms wrap around his waist, camila's head resting against his shoulder blade, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt truly and completely relaxed, unburdened by all the problems of his life.

and finally, the concession.

the woman finally decides. she will go on and give herself to death, to leave with him. taking his extended hand, the woman follows death into the beyond.

the next day, the pogues and camila decided to go to a local pizza joint after spending the day running errands for heyward. the group hadn't commented on camila's recent weird behavior, and they acted so normal that she assumed they had forgotten all about it.

but, of course, that would be too easy.

as soon as they stepped inside, they saw rafe with his sisters, sitting at a table near the entrance. camila nearly froze in her spot. rafe hadn't noticed yet, he was just sitting there, listening to wheezie talk about who knows what.

"what are you doing here kooks? i thought pizza would be too pogue for you guys." jj started, going straight to their table. kiara sighed, wanting just one peaceful day without this kook-pogue bullshit.

"not now man." rafe told him, staying firmly in his seat.

"too afraid to fight me? nah, i get it, you're a lame ass kook who can't put his money where his mouth is." he continued. camila looked to see if anyone was going to stop him, to pull him away from a fight like they normally do, but they were all looking at her. of course, they knew. hell, they might have set this whole thing up for all camila knew.

"just leave us alone, we're just trying to eat some pizza." he continued, keeping his voice level, focusing on not letting it raise. jj started making chicken noises, walking around rafe's table, causing a scene.

“guys, c’mon, he said to leave them alone.” she finally spoke up. jj turned to her, amazed.

"you're sticking up for this guy? what's going on with you camila?"

“he’s not as bad as you guys make him seem-” a few of them scoffed, and camila felt like crying. she didn't want to have this conversation, not here, not now, and definitely not in public.

"guys, he- he really-" rafe looked up at the tears in her eyes and sprung up, causing jj and john b to square up, ready to fight him off. instead of the fight they were expecting, he simply went up to camila, wiping the few tears off of her face and whispering into her hair. everyone in the vicinity was shell-shocked, even sarah and wheezie. they had never seen their brother like this, and they loved it. the pogues, however, were not loving this.

"hey man, get off her," jj started, trying to pull rafe away from camila. it was john b who stopped him, holding him back from even touching rafe. pope was astounded, about to go up to rafe himself, when kie placed a hand on his chest, telling him to calm down.

"we're gonna get going." kie started, pushing the angry men out. kie lingered behind for a second, looking at her best friend who was obviously torn by the situation. she came up to camila and rafe, putting a comforting hand on camila's arm.

"we're gonna get through this, alright? none of us love this, but they'll come around." she told the girl, who nodded, giving the other girl a hug.

"you gonna stay here with him?" she asked.

"yeah, i'm gonna stay with rafe." camila told her. she whispered a couple 'thanks's to kie before going back to rafe.

"hey, hurt her and you're dead. like actually, cuz jj and pope might kill you either way." she warned.

"yes ma'am. thank you kiara." he told her, wrapping an arm around camila. with that, kie left, dealing with the fuming men outside, while rafe guided camila back to the table.

"oh my gosh, you're camila, right?" sarah started, not believing that her brother was capable of feeling human emotions, and for a pogue nonetheless.

"you're gorgeous!" wheezie gushed. camila's face heated up, not knowing what to say.

"how 'bout we take the rest of this to go and have a movie night at mine, yeah?" rafe asked his girls. sarah and wheezie immediately jumped up, ready to spend time with rafe and his mystery girl.

"it's all gonna be okay, yeah? they'll come around." rafe told her, squeezing her arm gently.

"yeah, it's all gonna be alright." she responded, pulling him down so his forehead rested on hers.

fin.

#rafe cameron #rafe x oc #fanfic #obx #outer banks #Spotify

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