#like girl i know ALLL your business and youre so shitty to me

[snobgoblin]

i don't think my mom realizes how badly i could roast her like i could demolish her i could destroy her spirit with a single sentence but I don't bc I have restraint. it's a shame she doesn't have the same for me

[probably-writing-x]

Summer Heat - Chapter One

Summary: Rafe had met his match when he met you. Both completely opposite and all too similar - the Kook and the Pogue who worked for his father; the hot headed boy and the girl who never backed down. And as summer rolls around on the island, tensions run high amongst the hottest enemies that OBX has ever seen.

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cursing, some (ish) sexual references, mentions of losing a parent

Author's Note: Omgggg I’m so excited to start this series !! I already have sooo many ideas for it. Please let me know what you think of the first chapter I want to hear alll of your opinions !! Much much much love to all of you, angels x

Rafe had grown up getting everything he wanted. As much as he was reluctant to admit it at times, he knew he had always been fed from the silver spoon. He could have half of the island wrapped around his little finger if he really wanted to. Everybody knew it. From his friends that were more like followers, to his girls that were more like groupies, to his family that were more like business partners. All of it was more and more a part of the personality that made the infamous Rafe Cameron.

You, having grown up in The Cut, were one of the many people that worked for him and his family. You'd taken the job working on the boat, you and John B both working together. It was mundane but it covered your share of the bills and kept your older sister off of your back. Since your father had passed away a few years ago, it was really just you and her left. That's how you'd become such good friends with John B - you'd been through the same shitty few years on the shitty side of the island you called home. And there was something comforting about going through it with someone that knew how it all felt. Working together was just another part of that - a way to make a crap life a little less bad.

Though, it was safe to say dealing with Rafe's input was one of the worst parts of your job - he was always on your case about every part of the work. He would pick you up on the slightest things, tell his father if you were even a few minutes late, made sure to give you enough jobs to last the day. It hadn't taken you long to start arguing back with him, defending yourself when he expected you to stay silent. And, though people might think he was the most hot headed a person could get, it seemed he had met his match in you.

"Oi!" John B shouts from the other side of the deck, "Are you going to help or what?"

You roll your eyes at him and stand up from where you'd been enjoying the sun from the deck. It was a scorching day on the island, the sun beating down relentlessly - even worse on the dock of the yacht that seemed to be allergic to any type of shade;

"Ward's not meant to be home for another hour, which means we have at least half an hour before we even need to start."

"Right, but if you grow up and do it now, we can slack off later," He points out, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The two of you were like siblings to each other - him the mature and logical one that liked to keep the peace, and you the unhinged argumentative one that seemed set on disturbing the peace.

"Touché," You walk over to where he's stood over the pile of used scuba gear, a hose in one hand to start cleaning it all with freshwater.

You pick up the other hose and spray it a couple of times to test it out. Watching it splash down the deck and trail towards the drainage, not paying attention to it bounce off in the other direction to spray over John B.

"Do you mind?" He raises his eyebrows at you, shaking off the water from his arm.

"I'm sorry I almost drowned you," You roll your eyes at him, spraying the hose another time in his direction.

"Really? You want to start that?" John B laughs, dropping the buoyancy jacket from his hands to turn his attention to you.

He sprays in your direction and it splashes down the front of your crop top, forcing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh you are dead!" You return, splashing him back so that it soaks his hair down to his head.

He goes at you again and soaks your outfit completely, water dripping down your shoulders and down your arms.

John B laughs and shakes his hair out, raising his hands in defeat, "Okay okay stop, I'm done."

He pulls a hand over his face and your hands down either side of your hair to slick it away from your face, welcoming the cool it brings you against the blazing heat.

"Good to see we pay you for some quality work here!" An all too infamous voice calls out from the other end of the boat.

You look up to see Rafe coming towards you, his skin sun-kissed in the heat. He crosses over the ramp from the wooden dock and onto the deck, long strides drawing him closer to you. There's a white linen shirt hanging on either side of his torso, exposing the dips of his abs and the way they seem more prominent with his tan. No. Ignore it. This is Rafe, it didn't matter what body came with that.

"We?" You scoff, "I'm not so sure you're responsible in the slightest for paying us. But go ahead, run along and tell Daddy if you need to."

He clenches his jaw but doesn't say anything for just a second, "I could get you fired with a click of my fingers, so watch your tone."

John B looks at you with warning in his eyes when he can tell you're on the verge of snapping back at Rafe. You struggled to hide your feelings at the best of times, but it seemed all the more impossible when it came to this boy.

You'd known of him when you were little, the two of you meeting when your father used to work the restaurant at the club. As a little boy, Rafe was a lot more tolerable than he was now - though you were sure that he didn't remember you. Your first memory of him was when you were sat waiting for your Dad's shift to end, you no older than six. You'd fallen and cut your knee and Rafe had found you, much taller than you even when he was a kid, and he'd stolen an ice cream from the buffet bar to give to you. He'd told you to stop crying because his Dad had told him that big kids didn't cry, but he knew from his sister Sarah that ice cream could cure a lot of things. He looked at your knee, the blood spilling down your leg, and he held a napkin over it whilst you ate the ice-cream he'd given you. When your Dad came to find you, he'd pulled you away and told you to not hang around with those 'Kook Kids' again. You'd looked over your shoulder as you left and watched as Rafe was getting told off by his own father, likely for disappearing, or perhaps for thieving from the buffet. He'd looked at you with a sadness in his eyes that didn't seem to dispel.

That same sadness, though mixed with a few other things, still seemed to remain all these years later.

"You can both leave, I've got some business to take care of," Rafe states simply, "Finish this up tomorrow."

John B grabs his hat and his bag from the side and nods, "You got it," He disappears around the side of the deck, glancing back at you with that sort of look in his eyes that tells you get the fuck out of there while you've got the chance.

"You know you shouldn't leave this stuff without cleaning it," You point out, "The salt can damage your gear. That's why we have to clean it."

"Then we can buy new stuff," His words are a cold contrast against the blistering summer heat.

You roll your eyes, certain in that moment that you and Rafe could not be any more different if you tried, "Easy life isn't it, Rafe Cameron?"

"Easier if you weren't here."

You're silent, a strange tension between the two of you that never seemed to disperse.

"Your top is dripping over the deck," He comments matter-of-factly.

He seems to look at you with a darkness in his eyes, though different from the way he seemed when he was angry. It wasn't an anger when he was with you - it was more like fury, a burning inside of him that seemed to echo in the tension in his muscles.

You cock a brow at him and lift one of your arms to pull your crop top over your head, quickly and in one motion, exposing the thin cover of the bikini top you wore underneath, "Yeah, you're right, wouldn't want water on the boat would we?"

"Was that necessary?" He cocks a brow at you, his eyes drifting south towards your chest, the way the droplets of water curled around the curves of your breasts.

"Keep your dick in your pants, Cameron."

~~~

"You know your life would be a hell of a lot easier if you didn't argue with him all the time," John B points out, sat on the dock next to the Chalet, his legs dangling over the edge, a beer can in his hands

"And what's the fun in that?" You tilt your head up from where you lay sprawled out over the wooden surface, one hand coming up to your face to block your eyes from the sun.

"The woman raises a good point," JJ comments, matching your pose as he was sprawled out over the small space of their boat.

"Plus," You lean up onto your elbows, "He thinks he can walk all over us just because his father's got money, I'm sick of it."

"His father having money is the reason that we can get a bit too," John B points out, standing up and going over to the cooler of beers that was already dwindling in supplies, "So please keep your mouth shut so that I can keep my job."

You push yourself up to stand and step through the barrier of the dock to stand on the side of the water, your hands reaching behind your back to hold the fence and steady yourself, "I can't make any promises."

You stretch your arms above your head and dive into the water, kicking below the surface to submerge yourself in the relief of the cold water. When you break the surface, you turn around to see the boys watching you from the deck.

JJ smirks at you, nudging John B knowingly before he says, "Damn, that was hot."

~~~

You're back at the Cameron's house the following day, pulling up in front of the mansion in your beat up car that seemed a stark contrast to the world around you. The car had belonged to your father, and had been passed down to you when your sister refused to drive it. It was littered with scratches and had a dent on one side, and the passenger side window didn't ever close, and it only took cassette tapes despite this being the 21st Century.

As you pull up today, Rafe is parked in front of your spot. The hood of his car is open and he's bent over, studying the inner workings like it were a foreign language. When he hears your door slam, a little too abruptly, he is quick to comment.

"You're late."

"Did you miss me that much?" You cock a brow, walking around the side of his car so you can see under the hood too, "What's wrong with this?"

He looks up at you for a second, his eyes squinting a little against the smoke that was just starting to bellow up from the vehicle, "I don't-" He stops himself, "It's fine, just go to the boat."

You look over, walking around to the front of the car so that you stood next to him, your shoulder bumping his arm as you tap at the source of his problem, "Your fuel cap is busted, radiator cap should solve it."

Rafe pulls away from the car to stand up straight, like a reminder of just how much he towered over you, "Are you kidding?"

"I probably have a spare in my trunk," You comment, standing up too so that you can face him, the tips of your shoes almost brushing with his.

"I don't need your help, (Y/N)."

You smirk and make sure your eyes are in direct contact with his as you state, "Oh, don't worry, I wasn't offering."

With that, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the house, diverting towards the gate that would lead you down towards the dock. You couldn't quite make out the feeling in your chest - a little bit of pride at your tiny victory, and a little bit of the typical quickening of your heart beat that only Rafe seemed to be able to cause.

~~~

Rafe gives up on his car not long after, storming back into the house as if the anger was practically radiating off of him.

“I need Dad’s keys, have you seen them?” He calls over to Sarah, who’s laying across one of the couches with a book in one hand, the other arm tucked under her head.

“Why would I know where they are?” She retorts, setting her book down and stretching her arms back above her head.

“Can you help me look for them?” Rafe snaps, “I’ve got somewhere to be and my car’s busted.”

“Find them yourself,” She scoffs, “Or get John B or (Y/N) to help you with your car.”

Rafe stops his search for the keys and looks at her flatly, “Are you kidding?”

“Why do you hate them so much?” His sister shakes her head, “They’re not that bad and you act like (Y/N) is the worst person on the planet.”

“She’s not-“

As if on cue, you walk through from the garden, sliding open one of the large glass panel doors. There were beads of sweat around your neck from being in the sun, the material of your halter neck top rising a little over your torso. Rafe finds himself trailing his eyes over you before he has a chance to stop himself.

“Perfect!” Sarah smiles at you, “(Y/N), if you’re not too busy can you help my pain-in-the-ass brother to fix his car so he can stop stressing out?”

You look from her and onto her brother, the way his chest is rising and falling like even the sight of you irritated him beyond normal, “I don’t think he wants my help. I’m just here to get the key to the locker, we’ve got stuff to put away.”

Rafe looks at you directly, as if he hopes his gaze will eventually pierce through your confidence and give him the upper hand, “I’ll get you the key, if you get me that cap.”

It’s impossible to hide the smirk over your lips, “Hard bargain, Rafe Cameron.”

“Just do it,” He rolls his eyes, storming out of the room just as quickly as he’s entered.

Sarah glances up at you and shakes her head, “I’m sure you make him worse than normal.”

You laugh and nod your head a little, “Yeah, probably, but someone’s got to do it.”

You leave then and go out to your car, where Rafe is already waiting. He’s leant back against the side of it, his elbows leaning back on either side of the roof and his ankles crossed as if you had kept him waiting for a short version of forever.

”Do you mind? You’ll ruin the paint,” You bat his arm away and it evokes a deep laugh from him, one of mocking more so than amusement.

“On this thing? I think the paint is the least of your concerns,” He comments, glancing down at the scratches that wound around the side of the doors.

“Do you want to fix your car or not?”

He’s quiet then.

“This was my Dad’s car,” You mention, grabbing what you needed from the trunk before closing it, “And until it stops driving, I see no reason to get rid of it.”

“Your Dad,” Rafe studies your face, “Yeah, I remember him, he used to work at the club, right?”

As you walk past him, you find yourself having to swallow the lump in your throat before you can think of responding properly, “Yeah.”

“How did he-“

“Can you stop?” You snap at him, twisting off the old cap and fixing the new one in place over the fuel pump.

“Can I stop what?”

You stand up from the hood of his car and slam it shut, “Pretending like you give a shit. I don’t need your pity.”

It’s like something switches off in Rafe then, a light going out before your eyes had even adjusted to it being there, he straightens up his shoulders, lets out a cold blooded laugh through his lips, “Oh I don’t pity you, you Pogues are all just as bad as each other. Criminals, nothing more.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, this criminal has to get back to working on your boat,” You step forward and swipe the locker key from his hand, “I’ll try my best to not steal anything whilst I’m there.”

He watches you walk away, tastes the sarcastic air left in the wake of your words, breathes in the lingering scent of your unwavering confidence. And he can’t bring himself to look away from you. But, for just a brief moment, Rafe realises that he doesn’t want to.