#deputy shoupe

[rhcenyra]

OUTER BANKS ⇢ 3x08 | TAPPING THE RUDDER

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Adding Deputy Shoupe to the smash cake.

[plutotcles]

BITTERLY, JOSEPHINE SHOUPE ━━━ JJ Maybank.

→ back to. . . series masterlist.

PAIRING, JJ Maybank x Josephine "Josie" Shoupe (OC)

CHAPTER SUMMARY, Feeling lonely at a kegger, Josephine indulges into one of her worst habits but luckily for her, someone is always there to pick up the pieces in the morning.

WARNINGS, Some heavy drug abuse, allusions to sex and some hints at suicide ideation

Josephine Shoupe was no stranger to death and destruction. It was the thing that made her sleep at night, the song of death lulled her to sleep as the high of the pills soothed the everlasting low of her thoughts. She buried herself in day-long parties with meaningless hookups and drugs she didn't even know the name of, wrapped herself in a blanket of blissful ignorance and died every night all over again on the floor of her room, still dressed in tull and silk, skin sweaty and vomit in her hair—In an odd way, this is where she felt safest. With the lights dimmed and her rawest self for anyone, who was brave enough to tear down the walls that caged her heart and memories and tears, out on display.

The drugs were her asylum, her ivory tower. They were her lighthouse, the same way JJ Maybank was her siren.

JJ sang his siren-song, as he stumbled into history class, fashionably late, smelling off of weed and the sea with a laugh and the deathly call for an adventure and safety. That was, to Josephine Shoupe, what described JJ Maybank best—He was her safety line and her destruction all in one.

He was the one who did not tear down her walls, but climbed them up—He was the one who held her while she wept and watched her as she roared. And perhaps that was what made him seem so dangerous to her: He saw her at her lowest and did not leave, offered her safety at a point where everyone else abandoned her to fend herself, but to Josie that was not protection; that was a danger.

To be vulnerable to someone was not being strong, it was being weak. To kiss JJ Maybank under a lonesome star was not love, it was her slaughter house.

Josie's father—the great sheriff Victor Shoupe—had always tried to warn her, to keep her away from the scary, scary Pogue boys like JJ Maybank and John B Routledge but with one leg in the Pogue life and one leg in the Kook life Josie was confident she had chosen her family just right in the Pogues. Besides, when had Josie ever listened to her father.

JJ's heart was in the right place, Josie was sure, as was hers. They were two kids, left behind by the world—abandoned, neglected, you name it, they did not know what it was to be truly loved but they did their best. They had each other and if that was not enough, what could be?

"Are you okay?", a familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts, John B pushing a dripping beer right into her face.

Josie turned to face him with a crooked smile, taking the can with a feigned sigh, "Of course I am."

"Now, now, now", John B chastised, pushing her softly so he could sit next to her, "I got you the last cold beer so you better talk or I'm gonna take it back and drink it all on my own."

If there was one person Josie would trust with her life it was John B Routledge. He had been the first person to ever offer Josephine tenderness after her mother had left her all those years ago—He had been the one to save her life in more ways that he knew, the one who had showed up at her house just moments before she was about to end it all because he had a feeling she needed him. John B Routledge, and Josie was convinced of that, was her soulmate and still she felt like she could not talk to him about everything that happened.

Over the past months—ever since shit hit the fan—she had pushed her friends, especially the two J's of the group further and further away from her. In a way it felt solacing to know that she was protecting them from the horror that was her head, still sometimes she longed for just an ounce of comfort. That was typically when her head was up in the clouds and JJ Maybank came into the picture like something brough him to her whenever she needed him.

Josie sighed once again, leaning her head against John B's shoulder, "Seriously, B, I'm okay. Just very tired, dad was screaming at me the entire night."

It was no secret around the island that Victor and Josephine Shoupe did not get along—They used to, years and years ago when Josie was still a little girl with toothy grin and pigtails and Miranda Shoupe was more than just a vague memory of a woman leaving. Now they could not be more different. Josephine sometimes wondered where exactly they went wrong—if she had lost her father the same day her mother had turned her back on them or if her father had lost her the day John B Routledge and JJ Maybank had tripped their way straight into her life and heart. No matter when, no matter if it was a slow process or happened over night, it was too late to turn back now. Screaming matches, threats and lies that could not be taken back had brough them further away from each other until the only thing that connected to them was blood and the same last name.

"Why? What is he mad about now?", John B scoffed, raising one eyebrow in anticipation.

Josie shrugged, "I think it was because someone—and I'm not gonna say that it was JJ but it sure as hell sounds like JJ, made fun of him at work yesterday."

John B chuckled slightly, glancing over to where JJ was actively flirting with a touron that had gotten lost at their kegger, "That sure sounds like him."

"You know," John B continued, putting one arm around her shoulder, "I'm always here for you, right? You can always come to the Chateau if the big sheriff gets a bit too much to deal with." Or your head, he wanted to say but found his throat closing up on him. He had already lost his father, he couldn't bear to even imagine losing his little sister too—so instead he ignored the obvious and pretended like she was still little, old Josephine Shoupe.

"I love you," she muttered in response, laughing as she spotted John B's flirt of the night heading their way, obviously intoxicated, "Now get your girl for the night before she has my head for flirting with her man.", she chuckled, slightly nudging him in the direction of the touron.

John B groaned but stood up nevertheless, squeezing her shoulder one last time. Josie watched with a sense of grief as John B took the girl by the arm, JJ snogged with his touron for the evening and Kie and Pope were both deep in conversation with their own people. Josie pushed one of her hands into the pocket of her pants with a sigh—like muscle memory she fished for the little plastic bags with pills, all fresh and new from the morning. Pushing them into the palm of her hand with delicate fingers, carefully weighing them in.

That morning when she had knocked at Miles's door—the only one brave enough to sell drugs to the sheriff's daughter—his immediate reaction was to frown, You know satisfied customer, good customer but this is the fifth time this week that you're here, Jojo, you sure you're okay? he had asked, one eyebrow raised in true Miles March style.

Josie had met Miles about a year ago, three months before John B's dad had went missing and things officially went to shit. Over the twelve months the two had spend a lot of time together, getting high, cuddling, caring for each other—still, Josie had made it a great deal to keep him as far away from her friends as possible.

Of course I am, she had replied, the words rolling off her tongue easily but Miles didn't seem convinced, I've seen you high off your ass, Jojo, you are not okay and if this is getting out of hand, I am going to pay your friends a visit from one concerned friend. To see him so worked up over a issue that was soley hers felt almost menacing, like he was intruding into a life that was not his to invade but Josie knew he meant no harm, if anything he was looking out for someone along the lines of a friend—she kept persistent still and left immediately after she got the little plastic bag.

Josephine Shoupe, and she knew that much, was not one to get good grades, go to bed at ten and stay clean. She liked to believe she was—She liked to believe she was some kind of heaven sent angel who could do no wrong if only just to please her father but the Josie she had grown to be was far off from that—and so she caved in and knocked four pills at once back.

The hours after that went by in a blur and by the time Josie came to her senses, she was tangled up in her bedsheets at her home, sweaty body sticking to a naked sleeping Pogue, she recognised from school. Josie groaned as the full force of last night hit her like a brick, her head pounding and bile rising in her throat, "Oh fuck"

The Pogue—Amanda Witich, the Cut's newest edition—woke up with a groan, "What time is it?", she rasped, opening one eye to look at Josie.

     "Almost noon", Josie muttered. She was vaguely aware of her father's footsteps walking down the hall, humming some country song that she never heard before—It was his day off, his first in many, many weeks and Josie felt her stomach churned at the mere idea of spending the entire day in the same house as him.

Amanda hummed in response and sat up, awkwardly searching the room for her clothes, "I'll think I'll head out then. Can I leave through the front door or should I use the easy way out?", she asked, tilting her head towards the open window.

Josie thought about it for a moment, groaning as her headache only got more prominent. Her father was usually gone or fast asleep during moments like this but then, he was no idiot and probably very aware of what his daughter was up to every night, "Just use the front door, I don't give a fuck.", she muttered exhausted. Her head hit the pillow again and she turned away from Amanda, eyes already closed again and half asleep. She didn't care, truly, she wasn't meant for long term relationships anyway. She fell asleep before Amanda had even left.

When Josie woke up next the sun was long gone, there was a persistent knock on her door and a warm body cuddled against her—Josie didn't need to turn around to know it was JJ. His touch always felt different, their bodies melting against each other like being close was the only thing that made sense to them.

     "Josephine", her father's voice came through the door as he fumbled with the handle. He opened the door slightly, just enough for his voice to travel clearly through and to flood the corner of her room with the bright light coming from the hallway, "If you're home, the station called, they need me. I'm leaving now. There's some left over lasagna in the fridge if you're hungry.", he waited for a moment but Josie stayed silent and so with a last frustrated sigh he closed the door again, his footsteps quickly leaving.

Josie could feel the familiar tug at her heart whenever her father spoke to her but before she could let herself break, JJ had already pulled her even further against him, pressing a tender kiss to her head, "Sleep.", he whispered.

Her heart softened ever so slightly at his tired voice. JJ's here, she reminded herself, He'll keep the bad thoughts away. But could he really?

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Yeah I wanna get on top of shoupe and wiggle

[rafeandonlyrafe]

deputy's daughter

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, caught

“rafe!” you hiss as he makes his way into your room through his preferred method of the window. “my dad is going to kill you!”

“is he home?” he questions. he didn't see the cop car sitting in your driveway, which is why he scaled the lattice to sneak inside.

“no, but he's gonna be home any minute now!” you keep your voice quiet despite the rest of the house being empty.

“let me kiss you until he gets home then.” rafe says, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a heated kiss. you know it's never just a kiss with him, but you can't help but open your lips for his adventurous tongue, gripping his shirt to pull him in closer.

rafe smirks against your mouth. he could have texted you asking you to let him, but that would have taken all the fun out of it. 

“you have to leave as soon as my dad gets home.” you scold him as rafe lays you back on your bed. 

“i know you can’t keep quiet.” rafe chuckles, hand groping at your tits through your thin pajama shirt. thankfully the flood lights above the garage are motion sensored, and with your open window they'll alert you when your dad gets home.

“if only deputy shoupe knew what i was doing to his little angel of a daughter.” rafe chuckles as you send him a glare, tugging at his shirt in a silent plea for him to take it off.

“shut up, cameron. he likes you anyways.” you roll your eyes. now if it was a pogue in your bed, that would be a whole different story. 

“mhm.” rafe nods, tugging your shirt up, revealing your bare chest. “im just so charming. all the parents love me.”

“all?” you raise your eyebrows, taking your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it across the room. “you mean you do this with other girls.”

“not anymore.” rafe shakes his head, mouth dropping to your nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. “you know they don't compare to that delicious pussy, baby.”

you tsk. “it's a shame you don't have time to eat it then.” 

rafe sighs dramatically, like it physically hurts him to not be able to give you head, to let his tongue drag through your folds and slurp up your juices.

“just a quick taste then ill fuck you, promise.” rafe tugs your pajama shorts down, knowing you never wear underwear just for him as he buries his face between your legs, forcing your thighs apart as his greedy mouth explores your pussy.

“delicious, baby.” rafe groans, voice vibrating against your skin. “my favorite meal.” he continues for only a moment longer, flicking his tongue against your entrance before moving up to press a wet kiss to your clit, making you moan out, eyes flickering to your window, making sure you somehow didn't miss the floodlights turning on.

rafe stands up with a lick of his lips, quickly undressing himself until he's just as bare as you are.

“condom?” he asks, forgetting to put one in his pocket, so caught up with getting over to your house on time, even running from his car to your yard, always parking a block away to not cause suspicion.

“fuck, you didn't bring one?” you groan, turning towards your bedside table. you squint in the low light as you scrounge through the drawer, but you know that you used the last one with rafe a week ago.

“just…” you sigh, pressing your forehead into the bed. “just pull out, okay?”

“promise.” rafe nods, eyes on your ass like they have been since you first turned onto your stomach, only half listening to what you're saying, but glad that you're still letting him fuck you.

rafe kneels over your legs before you can move back to your front or rise to your hands and knees. “stay like that.” he hums, gripping his cock and pushing it between your thighs, rubbing the head through your slick.

“fuck, you're so hot.” rafe groans as you reach behind your back, pulling your ass apart to show off both of your holes. “gonna let me play with this one one day?” rafe hums, his tip sliding past your entrance to your other hole, tapping against it.

“maybe.” you smirk. but certainly not today, not when you're already playing on limited time.

rafe slides back down to your cunt, pushing in as he leans forward, covering your body with his own. one hand keeps him held up, stopping from putting his complete weight on you, while the other grips your ass.

“fuck.” rafe groans out, his voice sounding more hoarse than usual. “you feel so good with nothing in between us.”

you moan as well as rafe bottoms out, pushing as far in as your pussy allows. he sits still, allowing you to adjust, to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. he goes from giving you nothing to pounding into you in an instant, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room.

rafe gives a glance at the window. lights still off. he smirks down at you, your hands now gripping into the bedsheets as he plows into you from behind, using the full force of his hips with every thrust.

“m-more.” you mewl out, body shuddering as rafe manages to go deeper with a tilt of his hips, along with you arching your back and bringing your ass up further into the air.

you let out loud groans with every thrust that's now hitting your sweet spot, pushing your orgasm quickly to the surface.

“fuck baby, you're so tight.” rafe grunts out. “don't know how much longer i can last.”

“re-remember to pull out.” you manage to hum out, even though you wish you could feel him fill you up, you're not on birth control and are already taking a risk with having sex at all.

“ass or tits?” rafe questions. 

“ass.” you shake your hips from side to side, making rafe let out a loud curse, pulling out sooner than he'd like to to jack himself off, spilling almost instantly over your ass and back, spreading long ropes of cum along your skin.

rafe is quick to grab a tissue and clean you off, as much as he likes seeing you covered in his cum, he's got other things to focus on.

just as he's about to flip you over to eat you out, the lights outside turn on.

“fuck!” you curse, knowing you have seconds before your dad enters the house. you turn over to look at rafe. you gotta get out.”

“you didn't cum yet.” rafe shakes his head, body covering you again, pressing you back down into the plush mattress. “im not leaving without giving you at least one orgasm.”

“you're gonna be leaving with a bullet in your chest if my dad catches you!” you hiss out.

“itll be worth it.” rafe manages to force his hand underneath you, finding your clit with ease as he rubs his fingers between your folds. 

“y/n!” your dads voice calls out. you usually greet him downstairs, staying locked in your room is bound to cause suspicion.

“rafe.” you moan out quietly. “please, stop.” you can barely keep yourself from screaming out as his fingers just move faster, his weight pressing down on you too much to move.

“babygirl?” shoupe calls out, his loud footsteps marching up the stairs.

“i-in my room!” you call out.

“you okay?” he asks, now right outside your door. you have to cover your mouth as rafe flicks your clit. you take a deep breath before answering.

“yeah, fine!” your voice wobbles a little, something you know your dad notices. “just period cramps!”

“can i get you some midol?” he questions, and you know his ear is pressed to the door, listening for any signs that something is amiss as rafe rubs you quicker, refusing to slow down, needing to get an orgasm out of you.

“already took some!” you call out, having to press your face into your mattress as you cum, body shaking as rafe smirks above you, hearing your muffled noises. “i think im just gonna go to bed early.” you say as soon as you recover.

“alright, goodnight sweetheart.” 

rafe finally allows you to flip over, lifting himself to lay on his side next to you. you raise your eyebrows and hold your finger to your lips, signaling rafe to be quiet until you hear your father's footsteps move down the hallway.

“rafe, you almost got us caught!” you whisper, giving him a shove on the shoulder, only to be met by a proud smile on his face.

“had to get you off, princess, otherwise it wouldn't be fair.” rafe leans forward to plant a kiss on your lips, feeling the way you melt against him.

“am i forgiven?” he questions.

“yeah, just get out.” you giggle quietly. you think your dad bought your explanation, but you can never be too sure.

rafe dresses quickly, throwing your pajamas onto the bed so you can also get decent.

“gotta give you one more kiss.” he leans over your bed to give you a sweet kiss, lips moving gently against each others.

“okay, now go.” you shoo rafe out, heading to the window now that your legs feel a bit more stable, watching him climb down the lattice. he gives you a wave once his feet hit the concrete, only for his entire body to freeze when the side door opens up, your dad stepping out into the light.

“rafe cameron, im going to kill you!”

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[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 4)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

Rafe had his head down on the rusting metal table. The sheriff’s deputies had all taken turns trying to interrogate him about the events of the day before, but none of them had succeeded in getting him to admit his father was on that plane. His hands were still bloody from the fight and he was exhausted, having been awake for nearly 48-hours.

The door creaked open again, but he didn’t bother lifting his head, anticipating another round of questions he wasn’t going to answer.

“Well,” Shoupe said with a sigh. “You’re free to go.”

Rafe raised his head with a smug smile. “What’s the matter, Shoupe? Couldn’t make anything stick?”

Shoupe rolled his eyes, “just stay on the island, alright? We’re not done with you yet.”

“Actually, sounds like you are,” Rafe stood and patted Shoupe’s shoulder condescendingly as he started walking towards the door.

“Funny, I didn’t think there was anyone left on this island who cared enough about you to wait in the station lobby all night, but apparently I was wrong,” Shoupe said as Rafe opened the door.

Keeping his back turned, Rafe stood in the doorway with his brow furrowed. He didn’t want to give Shoupe the satisfaction of knowing he also had no idea who could care enough about him to be there. 

As he passed the rest of the officers, standing there watching him in disgust and disbelief that he was getting away again, he gave them a smirk and a mocking salute, “a pleasure as always.”

You shifted in the uncomfortable lobby seat, continuously fidgeting both from discomfort and panic at the idea of seeing Rafe. When you had approached the front desk and told them you were here to post bail for Rafe Cameron, the woman behind the counter looked at you annoyed and informed you that you couldn’t, as Rafe hadn’t officially been charged yet.

“Charged with what?” You asked.

She rolled her eyes at your naivete and returned to the sudoku she had been working on.

“Okay, then,” you said as you took a seat in the empty waiting area. 

That was six hours ago, but you figured if he hadn’t been charged, they would have to release him eventually, and you’d be here waiting. You had no earthly idea what you would say to him when the time came, but you’d be here, and maybe that would be enough.

He strutted into the lobby like he owned the place, his cocky walk coming to an abrupt halt when he looked up and saw you sitting there. You rose to your feet, shocked at the sight of him even though it was all you had been thinking about since you ran out of the cemetery hours ago.

Rafe looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before. In his eyes, you could see his brain at work, like he was calculating. What choices he was weighing, you weren’t sure, but you certainly didn’t expect the move he made next.

“Hey, baby!” He called out, striding toward you quickly, pulling you into his arms. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, he kissed you. It was sloppy and crude, his tongue invading your mouth as hands grabbed your ass, lifting you into the air. Your face burned with shock and embarrassment, knowing all of the cops in the station could see you two. Then it clicked - that’s exactly why Rafe was doing it.

Before had a chance to decide if you were going to play along or slap him, he broke the kiss and threw his arm around your shoulders, walking you toward the front door.

“Later, Shoupe!” Rafe called over his shoulder, turning the two of you slightly, allowing you to get a quick look at Shoupe standing with his hands on his hips, red in the face. What the fuck did Rafe do to make Shoupe look at him like that?

You stayed silent as Rafe walked you through the door, leading you down the block and turning onto a side street. The second you were out of sight of the station, he pulled his arm away and took several long strides to create as much space between you as possible.

He looked at you for a long moment, once again calculating his next move. You froze in anticipation as he opened his mouth to say something, heart dropping when he changed his mind and closed it again. Silently, he turned and started walking away from you down the street.

“My car’s the other way,” you said, feeling stupid for saying such a mundane thing in such a heated moment.

“Have a nice walk then,” he called back sarcastically.

“Where are you going?” 

“Home,” he was almost too far for you to hear now. You started after him, needing to jog a bit to catch up with him.

“Let me give you a ride,” you panted once you had caught up to him, stepping in front of him to stop him from getting any further away.

“Think I’d rather walk,” he said dismissively. 

“It’s 10pm, and you’re gonna what? Walk through The Cut in the middle of the night? I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I don’t think they’ve changed their opinion on having Kooks in their territory,” you were pulling out any logic you could think of to get him into your car so you could finally talk to him.

Taking your point, he rolled his eyes and turned around, walking in the direction you had indicated your car was in.

You drove in silence for what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been, as you knew the drive to Tannyhill was fifteen minutes tops. Rafe was looking out the window, hands anxiously rubbing up and down his thighs as he kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he was fighting against some invisible restraint. You were trying hard to keep your eyes on the road, but couldn’t control the way they kept drifting over to him, eyeing the blood on his battered hands. The remnants of what was clearly not a good forty-eight hours all over him.

You had so many things you wanted to say, so many questions you wanted to ask him, that you almost couldn’t think straight. You were still reeling from the news that his father had died, and now the sight of him walking out of the sheriff’s station covered in blood. If so much could happen to him in just a few weeks, you didn’t even want to think about how much of his life you missed in the last two years.

After a while, the silence so tense it almost hurt, you decided to dip your toe in the water.

“Is it yours?” You asked, forcing your eyes to stay on the road.

“What?” He mumbled as he ran his hands over his buzzed head, still not looking at you.

“The blood,” you clarified.

“Some of it,” he answered honestly.

You nodded, as though this was all super normal. “And the rest of it?”

He threw his head back on the seat and let out a forceful sigh, pointedly not answering your question. You decided you’d tested the waters enough and remained silent the rest of the drive.

When you pulled up to the gate at Tannyhill, you rolled down the window so you could reach the box to put the code in, looking at Rafe expectedly. Your attempted nonchalance didn’t work, he rolled his eyes at you, pulling out his phone. As he typed the code into his app, he used his other hand to cover the numbers from your view. Long gone were the days he’d text you the code the second Ward changed it so you could sneak in and out to see him whenever you wanted. The days he’d hold you until you fell asleep, whispering to you about how someday he’d inherit this house and share it with you. As you watched the gates slowly open in the glow of your headlights, the future you once believed in so fiercely had never felt further away.

You drove slowly down the long drive toward the house, surprised to see it was completely dark.

“Where is everyone? Where’s Sarah?” You asked. 

“Just drop me here,” Rafe ignored your question.

You stopped the car a few yards from the front door, and Rafe immediately climbed out, closing the door loudly behind him and walking toward the house. You weren’t exactly expecting him to invite you in, but this non-goodbye was so abrupt you felt cheated. Your mind raced with all the things you still wanted to say as you watched Rafe walking toward the house, your chance to finally say them going with him.

You snapped out of your haze and threw open the car door, not bothering to close it behind you as you ran after him calling, “wait!”

He turned on you quickly, making you stop in your tracks a few feet from him. Suddenly, all the things you wanted to say disappeared from your mind and you swallowed hard.

“What do you want?” He prompted, looking annoyed at how long it was taking you to form a sentence. “Why the hell were you at the station?”

“I just…” you could feel him preparing to turn and keep walking back towards the house, you needed to say something, fast. “Your dad.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, he didn’t know what you had heard and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I’m…” you took one step towards him. “Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He left the question open ended, forcing you to reveal exactly how much you knew.

“I saw his plot, at the cemetery,” you didn’t need to tell Rafe what you were doing at the cemetery, he had been there with you on multiple occasions, including the day they buried your own father.

Rafe just shrugged, looking at the ground to avoid your empathetic gaze.

“Rafe,” you said quietly, the sound of his name on your tongue sending chills through you both. When he still didn’t look up at you, you stepped closer. He tried to dodge your eyeline, but you reached up gently and placed your fingers under his jaw, looking him straight in the eye as you asked, “what’s going on?”

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, chest to chest as you searched each other’s faces in the glow of the moon. If he’d let you, you would stand there for hours, just studying him, trying to read it all on his face. You used to know the meaning of every expression he made, every glint in his eye, every twitch of his lips. The two of you used to be able to have full conversations without saying a word. Now, your eyes searched every inch of his face, and you were coming up with nothing. 

He snapped his head back suddenly, ripping it away from your hand like you were burning him. He shook his head, and he wasn’t sure who he was saying no to- you or himself. 

“Just go home, y/n,” he said, arm outstretched, gesturing towards your car dismissively. 

“I can’t,” you spoke into the darkness. 

Rafe caught himself before asking you why, trying to preserve the image that he didn’t care. He assumed it had something to do with your mom. He had spent countless hours of his life listening to your stories of fights with your mother, even being present and involved in several of them, often being the source of the conflict. He swallowed the temptation to ask you what happened, pushing away the desire to have you laying with your head in his lap, gently playing with your hair as he let you rant as long as it took for you to feel better. He pushed the memory away, an action that was muscle memory to him at this point. 

“Well you can’t stay here,” he told you.

“But I just want to-”

“Just leave! We both know you know how to, you’re a fucking professional at it!” His booming voice echoed through the evening air and shot straight through you.

Tears sprang to your eyes, the sound of his raised voice so jarring. He had never screamed at you like this. Even in moments of frustration, just the thought of making you cry was enough to break him. 

You closed your eyes, letting the tears slip through and slide down your cheeks. You turned from him, but he’d already seen them. Guilt and fury battled in his chest, wanting to hold you and push you away at the same time. He hated the sight of your tears, but being able to release the hurt and anger he’d been feeling for two years felt somewhat satisfying, too. He felt like he was two completely different people, not sure he wanted to be either of them.

You sniffled and wiped your tears with the backs of your hands, gathering yourself before turning back to him.

“I know that I hurt you,” you said. “But I have my side of the story, too.”

“The story?” he scoffed. “You said you’d love me forever and then you didn’t. You said you wouldn’t disappear into the night and that’s exactly what you did. You’re a liar. That’s the story.”

Every day for two years, you had broken your own heart. You had never stopped trying to fight the demons of that night. You had devoted your life to trying to figure out what the hell had happened that could’ve ended with you on a train, riding off into the night against your will. For two years, you’d spent your nights praying to any God that would listen to let you go back in time, to undo this twisted fate. 

But none of those agonizing nights hurt quite like this. He really thought you had wanted to leave? That you just up and stopped loving him? You knew he had no way of knowing what really happened, but you were still clinging to some small shred of hope that he’d give you the benefit of the doubt. Clearly he hadn’t. 

“Is that what you think?” You asked in a small voice.

“That’s what I know,” he corrected. 

No words came to you as all of the tiny cracks in your heart you had worked so hard to fill ripped open again. Rafe only took your silence as confirmation.

“Let it go, y/n,” he said, turning to walk towards the house. “I have.”

With that, he closed the door firmly behind him, the lock clicking loudly.

So that was it then. Seven years of friendship, five years of wild love, two years of heartbreak. Fourteen years of him gone, the rest of your life without him a sprawling void ahead of you. The kiss you shared in the sheriff’s station would be your last. Your last kiss and it wasn’t even real, the agony of that thought pushed you ever the edge and the tears you’ve been trying to stifle flowed free. Shoulders shaking with your sobs, you forced yourself to walk back to the car, no idea where you’d go once you were in it.

The door was still open, but the light had gone out. Once inside, you turned the key and the engine sputtered meekly as you tried and failed to turn it over. 

“Shit!” You screamed, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. Leaving the door open must’ve killed the battery. You cursed your mom for insisting on still driving this piece of shit even though she could easily afford an upgrade.

A professional leaver, Rafe had called you. The irony that just minutes after he said that you were literally unable to leave made you chuckle humorlessly. All of the emotion of this week weighing on your shoulders, you sat and cry-laughed into the darkness, feeling completely unhinged. What was supposed to be a quick, uneventful trip to your hometown had turned into a complete shitshow, you don’t know why you expected anything less.

You sat in the dark, giving up on trying to start the car. What were you supposed to do here? You could either knock on the door and chance another verbal bruising from Rafe, or walk home in the dead of night and face your mother. You fell asleep trying to decide which was worse.

Seven Years Earlier…

There were so many people packed into your house, you assumed nobody would notice when you slipped out and hopped on your bike. You were wrong. Rafe saw your bike lying on its side on the path leading down toward the beach, you hadn’t even bothered to put up the kickstand. 

He followed your footsteps down to the water. It was chilly and raining, the beach completely clear of people. The rain was falling hard, washing your footsteps from the sand, but he managed to follow what was left of them to the abandoned lifeguard tower you used to climb on as kids. There you were, sitting underneath the wooden structure for shelter, feet digging into the sand as you hugged your knees to your chest. Rafe stopped short, he hated seeing you upset, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to make you feel better. He had never been very good at feelings.

He decided he would approach you anyway, not saying anything in order to avoid saying the wrong thing. He ducked down and slid between the stilts of the tower, finding a space on the ground next to you.

You didn’t have to look over to know who it was, you could feel him. You were relieved when Rafe didn’t say anything, you were so overwhelmed by the chaos of the day, you couldn’t form words to explain it if you tried. After a few minutes, you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they began rolling down your face in big, fat drops. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe said, startled by your sudden outburst. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. You laid your head on his shoulder and he awkwardly rubbed his hand up and down your back. “It’s…it’s gonna be ok,” he said hesitantly, terrified he’d somehow make you feel worse.

The soft fabric of the black dress your mother had chosen for you to wear to your father’s wake felt nice under his fingertips. His hand grazing softly up and down your back felt nice as you let the tears fall. You let Rafe soothe you for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath and wiping your tears away with the back of your hands.

“Sorry,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he assured with a sincerity that almost made you start crying again. 

You looked over at him for the first time, his hair messy and wet from walking all the way here from your house in the rain. His cheeks were pink from the chilly air and the bashfulness he was feeling from sharing such an intimate moment with you. You had always thought he was cute, but in this moment, you realized you absolutely adored him.

“I just didn’t want to be there anymore,” you explained. “I don’t even know half of those people and everyone just kept hugging me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be there either,” he reassured you.

You nodded, sniffling, and giving him a thankful smile. Without really thinking it through he reached out a shaky hand and wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks. His hand lingered, and you placed yours on top of it, squeezing gently with appreciation. The contact made both of you blush and you looked away from each other. You had been friends since you were both six-years-old, of course you had touched before, but something about this time felt different.

“I know how you feel,” he said in a voice so quiet that you could barely hear it over the pattering of rain on the wooden structure above you and the crashing of waves. 

That’s right. In the storm of your own grief you had almost forgotten that Rafe had once lost a parent, too. It was about a year after you got to the island, he had missed two weeks of school in the third grade. When he came back, he started his still-running reign of principal’s office MVP.  

“I know it feels like maybe you won’t ever be happy again,” he looked out at the ocean, afraid you would notice the water starting to collect in the corners of his eyes. “But you will be. You’ll find something that makes you happy, and soon it won’t hurt so bad.”

“Did you?” You asked.

“Did I what?”

“Find something that made you happy again?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Rafe looked down at his feet shyly, his hand scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. You teasingly elbowed him, making him laugh. He swallowed hard before mumbling, “you.”

Your stomach flipped and your face went beat red, completely caught off guard by his answer. Once again, your heart ached with the affection you felt for him. You reached out and lightly tucked your fingers under his chin, pulling his face up to meet your gaze.

“You make me happy, too,” you confessed. 

You had never done it before, and you weren’t really sure how to, but you knew that you just had to kiss him. Rafe had the same idea, and met you half-way with his own lips puckered. 

It was quick and innocent, the first of a million kisses you’d share. You didn’t know how it was possible to feel so sad and so happy at the same time, but you felt as though you could face anything now that you knew you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Now…

TAP TAP TAP. Your eyes flew open as you lifted your head from the window and took in your surroundings, unsure of where you were. As your blurry surroundings came into focus, you were pulled down from your post-sleep haze by the looming figure of the man on the other side of the window. Rafe stood outside your car window, holding up a steaming mug of coffee. 

You rolled the window down, smiling shyly at Rafe as you blinked rapidly in the soft morning light. 

“Hi,” you said weakly.

“You sleep here?” He asked with neither amusement nor annoyance in his voice.

“The car wouldn’t start,” you explained. “I think the battery died.”

“You could’ve told me, I could’ve called Triple A,” he chided.

“I wasn’t sure you would’ve opened the door if I knocked,” you pointed out.

“That’s fair,” he agreed. The gentleness he was speaking to you with now was in such stark contrast to the tone he’d used last night. You didn’t want to say anything, scared to disturb the calm waters.

He handed the coffee to you, which you accepted gratefully. You took a sip, two creams and one sugar - he remembered. 

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You can come inside while I call someone to come jump the car,” he offered.

You were so confused, but didn’t want to question it. You simply nodded as he opened the car door for you so you could climb out without spilling the coffee. 

After calling Triple A, Rafe joined you on the back porch, now with his own cup of coffee.

“Still take yours black?” You asked.

“The way coffee should be?” He teased. “Yes, yes I do.”

You smiled and you shook your head at him, clutching your coffee and looking out at the sun rising over the sea. The two of you sat in silence for a while on opposite sides of the wicker patio couch, sipping your coffees and avoiding each other’s eyes. 

You thought through the events of yesterday, remembering everything Rafe had said, and everything you wanted to say but hadn’t been able to. Rafe’s words were so cruel, but you got the sense he had fully believed everything he said. You thought you would never get the chance to respond to his accusations, but your car troubles had given you this extra time with him, and you didn’t want to waste the second chance. Should you make a joke? Try to tease him some more about his coffee preferences? Should you ask about his dad, or the reason he had been taken in to the sheriff’s office for questioning? Rafe clearly didn’t want to talk about his dad, and if this was your last chance to talk to him, you didn’t want to waste it on small talk. You decided your only option was to talk about yourself, about how you are feeling, and let him decide if he wanted to hear it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you said, sitting up to look at him. 

Your direct words startled him and he snapped his head to you, also sitting up straight.

“About what?” He says defensively. 

You look at him, hoping he can’t tell that your heartbeat is spiking and your throat is tight with anxiety. You need what you’re about to say to come out confidently, you need to say it with your chest or you may as well not say it at all.

“I never lied to you,” you told him. “And I never stopped loving you.”

Rafe’s face went pale, not at all expecting you to say that. He set his coffee down and got up from the couch, walking quickly back into the house and leaving you sitting alone, heart in hand. 

You followed him into the house, feet padding on the wooden floor behind him.

“Please just talk to me,” you pleaded.

He rounded on you, forcing you to step back.

“Don’t say shit like that!” He yelled.

“Don’t yell at me!” You matched his energy. “You never used to yell at me.”

“You left, y/n! What was I supposed to do, stay exactly the same and wait patiently for you to come back from God-knows-where like a good boy? No!” He jammed his finger into his chest, “I grew up! I became a fucking man! And now you wanna just waltz in like nothing fucking happened? It’s too late for that!”

You didn’t cower, but got closer to him with each proclamation he made. You found something in you that you hadn’t had last night, something like courage.

“You’re fucking right you changed! You know how I know? The old Rafe would’ve listened to me for two fucking seconds so I could explain!”

“I don’t wanna hear any fucking excuses-”

“I’m not making excuses! If you’d let me speak for two fucking seconds, you’d know that!” 

“There’s nothing you could say that would make me not pissed at you,” his voice was lowered but still filled with vitriol.

“You know what? Fine,” you shot back. “Be pissed at me. But I’ve had a long, unbelievably shitty two years and I’m not gonna stand here and let you scream at me as if you’ve never done anything wrong, ‘cause we both know that’s far from the truth.”

Rafe looked at you like you had smacked him, surprise flashing across his face. Of course, he knew you were referring to the accident and the things that happened before you left, right? His face smoothed over with recognition, maybe even relief.

“You’re talking about the accident,” he confirmed.

“Yes, I’m talking about the accident,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “What else would I be talking about?”

He shook his head, “nothing.”

“Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Like maybe why you were held for questioning by the police for 24-hours, covered in someone else’s blood. 

Rafe studied you for any sign that you knew what had really been going on the past few months. You were looking at him so intensely, it was impossible to read your face. He couldn’t bear the thought that you knew what he’d done, what he’d become. And even though he was still pissed at you, still hurt, no matter your supposed explanation for leaving, he was desperate for you to remember him as the person he was before. He needed you to believe he was good. 

He drank you in for a long time, standing there with your arms crossed, looking up at him expectantly. Your hair was still messy from your night of tossing and turning in the car. You definitely looked older, but you were still so essentially you. He knew you wouldn’t let him stall much longer, that he would need to respond eventually. So he did.

Rafe stepped closer to you, his tall frame requiring you to tilt your head back to look up at him. He grabbed each of your forearms, pulling them apart, forcing you to uncross them and lose your defensive stance.

“There’s a lot of things I’ve wanted to tell you,” he whispered in a low voice, sending a shiver down your spine. “And things I’ve wanted to show you.”

You feel your new-found courage faltering, but try your best to maintain your confident facade as you respond, “like what?” The small amount of air between you is so tense, you’re being pulled to him like a magnet. You know, you know, you shouldn’t do this. There is so much you need to talk about, so many things left unresolved. But then he licks his lips, an action that used to mean I want you in your own secret language. And fuck if you don’t want him too.

(chapter five)

a/n: y'all. not me making myself cry with this one. your support has absolutely blown me away and made me so happy to be posting my writing again!!! Doing my best with this taglist but if you asked and I left you off please let me know!! ch 5 on it's way!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @aerie717 @kickenkricken @st0rmyt @sage-burrow @adoreleeknw @mudisgranapat @sugarmelonwater @blue-greener-weiner @vilentia @sunny1616 @namelesslosers @groovycass @zizuras @lifeonawhim

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.

it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.

luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.

now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.

"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.

"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."

your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.

“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”

jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“

“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”

deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.

“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”

on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.

“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“

“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”

“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” his calloused thumb rubs across your cheek, and a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.

˚❀˚

[rafetopia]

𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨��

pairing: canon!rafe cameron x fem!dark!reader (she a little crazy too)

genre: action (?), smut, teeny bit of fluff & angst -> 18+!!

words: ~5.2k

warnings: shootings, mentions of guns (obviously), fire, mentions of death, dom!rafe, not so subby but bratty reader, prison break, (slight) daddy kink, (sexual) choking, hair pulling, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

summary: after her efforts of getting her fiancé out of jail the legal way, (Y/N) has to take on different measures to get him back

note: this is kind of a second part to “till death do us part” but it can be read as a stand alone too.

also please go easy on me, I obviously have yet to break anyone out of jail, and I’ve not been chased by the police that often yet so if there some parts that seem unrealistic to you- please ignore them

“Get on your damn knees, Cameron!” Shoupe was screaming at the young man, as he ran out of the water.

“Baby? Baby where are you?” Rafe screamed as panic overcame his voice. 

He frantically looked around him, but there was no sign of his girl. The second he reached land, he turned around, trying to find at least a sign that she was alive but there was nothing. It wasn’t until he heard Deputy Plumb scream “I got her!”, that he knew she was alive. She dragged her by the shoulder, her grip so tight, that the girl was sure it would leave marks. 

“Let go of me!” She yelled, trying to get herself free, as the older woman dragged her to shore. 

“You wish…” Plumb gritted through her teeth, knowing exactly that she would try and run away the second she would let go of her.

But (Y/N) would never run away without the love of her life and by the way the male Officers were throwing themselves on him, she knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 

“Let go of him!” She screamed, but her wishes stayed unheard. “I swear to god if you hurt him, I’m gonna kill you, all of you!” She continued, not caring about the consequences her threads might bring with them. 

Rafe tried to free himself from the Officer's grip, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight off four male Officers, especially not with the anger they had in them. “Would you calm down?” Shoupe ordered as he turned around to look at you.. “Only gonna make things a lot harder for the both of you.” 

The moment (Y/N)’s feet had dry land under them, she tried to fight herself free again, but Plumb's grip was tight, a little bit too tight for Rafe’s liking. “If you hurt her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” The face of the young man turned red, as he so desperately tried to fight himself free so he could protect her. He saw the tears forming in his love’s eyes and to say it drove him insane was an understatement. 

He wanted to fight himself free, wrap his arms around her, and carry her away but before he could even attempt to do anything, he had Deputy Thomas’ fist in the face, sending him to the ground with such force that he blacked out for a second. The moment he regained consciousness, he heard her scream in pain. 

“You bastard!” She cried, before fighting herself free of the woman’s grip and launching towards the Officer. “He wasn’t even doing anything you disgusting piece of shit!” She screamed, as they contained her and brought her to the ground next to her boyfriend. 

He was lying on his stomach as they started to cuff him, and she softly caressed his eye, which was already swollen. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you out of this.” She sobbed, as they took her hands and put them behind her back, before cuffing them together. 

“You’re gonna pay for this.” She mumbled through gritted teeth, as they were dragging him to the police car. 

“Would you stop with the threads now, Miss?” Plumb hissed at the girl before she turned her attention towards her boss. “Let’s take her with us? So she can calm down.” 

“I am calm you fucking bitch!” 

“Okay.” The officer chuckled, before dragging her towards the other car. She was about to go inside when Rafe turned himself around and looked at her. 

“I love you, baby.”

“Till death do us part?” She smiled.

“Till death do us part.” He answered, before the Sheriff shoved him into the car.

“If that fat pig hurts him again, one more time…” She mumbled before Plumb pushed her into the other car.

………….

That was six weeks ago. Since then, she had tried everything in order to get him at least out on bail but the judge was hard. She consulted the best lawyers and brought up the way they treated the two of them during their arrest but hence the drugs in their system and the statements of the arresting officers, no one was able to do anything. She tried to do it the legal way, she truly did but she never had a chance. Especially not now when they started investigating her and her entire family. 

She knew she was screwed and she would have to take action soon if she didn’t want to end up in a prison cell herself. After her last visit, she was able to visit him once again, thanks to her amazing ability to convince people to do whatever she wanted and her outstanding talent for blackmailing but after her last visit, they completely blocked her out. Being investigated for fraud and money laundering, really took away all her family's credibility, leaving her with nothing but her last resort. She had to break him out of jail. 

So there she was with a smile on her face, watching the flames, as they grew bigger and bigger, until almost swallowing the whole building. Screams were echoing from the front of the building but she didn’t care. It was almost as if she didn’t hear them. Officers trying to escape without getting thrown back into the flames by Kildare’s most sinister criminals, and prisoners, trying to use this opportunity to get their freedom back.

(Y/N) knew it was a risky plan, she knew there was a chance that he wouldn’t make it out of there in time before either the cops or the flames got the best of him but it was her last chance. Tomorrow, they were planning on transferring him to the mainland for his trial, the big one. The one that determined whether he was guilty of his crimes, or if he was innocent and she damn well knew, the chance for the second one was less than zero. 

She was hiding behind the building, hoping he would know where to find her. She had the car ready, in case they needed to make a run for it, just like they had always joked about. 

The smoke had gotten worse as the flames made their way around the building and anxiety slowly burned its way through her body. She tried to calm herself down, as she unconsciously played with the pink “Bratz Doll” lighter between her fingers. Did she do the right thing? Would he make it? What if he didn’t? Then she would’ve killed the love of her life.

She took a peak around the corner where she saw Sheriff Shoupe arguing around with a group of firefighters. She hadn’t heard them come. His clothes were gray from the smoke and he was coughing a lot, but other than that he seemed fine. She appreciated the fact that she did not just kill Kildare’s new Sheriff, only a few months after her fiancé had killed the first one. Shortly after, more police cars arrived at the scene, followed by the loud noise of what she assumed to be a helicopter, landing on the other side of the building. She knew if he hadn’t made it out by now, then her whole plan would most likely have been for nothing. 

She quickly made her way back to her car, where another wave of anxiety overcame her. She tried to think positively but the tears in her eyes were starting to get through. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be the one that killed him. She was smart and resourceful, her plans never failed. But this wasn’t a rational plan. She was desperate. 

(Y/N) watched, as the flames started to swallow the building whole, besides the fireman’s efforts to stop it. She tried so hard to hold on to the last piece of hope but she had given up. She was about to get into her car when she was stopped by a familiar voice.

“You weren’t about to leave without me, now were you sweetheart?” He coughed, causing her to freeze in her tracks. 

She turned around and was met with her fiancé, covered in soot from head to toe. His once orange prison suit was now gray, the orange barely visible anymore. He was coughing a lot but between his coughs, he was smiling. She squealed in happiness, before jumping into his arms. 

“I thought you didn’t make it.” She whispered, almost crying into his neck.

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily baby.” He chuckled. 

Hand in hand, they ran to the car as fast as they could. Just when (Y/N) was about to turn the ignition, she was stopped by the familiar *click* of a gun.

“Don’t you dare, turn on that car, (Y/L/N)!” The woman coughed out, her words barely hearable to the other two.

“Told you Plumb,” She smirked, as she pulled down the window. “Told you, you’re gonna pay for this.” And with that, she turned on the car and drove away, trying not to get killed by the bullets that came flying after them.

As they got chased through the streets of Kildare by what felt like the entire police department, Rafe tried to fire back with the gun she had brought. He had climbed into the backseat so he had a better angle, without his feet blocking her stick. He had tried to convince her to switch seats, but as stubborn as she was, she insisted on driving.

“I swear to god Rafe, if you get shot I’m gonna finish you off myself.” She yelled as he almost got hit by a bullet. “Just shoot something, it’s not that hard to hit someone, you must know…”

He gave her a bitter laugh. “It’s certainly not that hard to put your foot on that damn gas pedal either! Just let me take over!”  

“No, I can do this! I’ve always wanted to do this!” She giggled, after dodging an old man who had started to cross the street but wasn’t fast enough in turning around. “Oops!” She laughed. “We almost killed our first-grade math teacher.” 

“No, you almost killed our first-grade math teacher. I liked that guy!” He yelled back into the car, after trying and failing to hit the cars behind them. “Can’t hit anything with you driving like a maniac!”

“How else would you want me to drive, mister?”

“Just let me fucking do it?”

“Fine.” She mumbled, before jumping out of her seat. Before Rafe even realized what was going on, she had climbed into the passenger seat. “Go and take over the fucking car then!” She yelled, as she grabbed another, but slightly bigger gun from beneath the seat and leaned out of the window, almost shooting Rafe himself as he was still leaning out of the window as well.

“Oh my god.” He mumbled, as he jumped into the driver's seat, “Are you fucking crazy?” He waited for a second as if he really thought she was going to reply, before continuing, “Of course you are, you just broke me out of jail with a pink “Bratz doll” lighter…” He chuckled, as he knew goddamn well you wouldn’t use anything else to light something up, let it be a candle when you’re taking a bath or some wood when you’re lighting up a fucking detention center.

Rafe still had the other gun, so naturally, he tried to take over not only driving but also shooting. With his foot on the gas pedal, he leaned out of the window and started shooting. He thought he held the car steady as he hit multiple tires of the police cars behind them but if it wasn't for (Y/N) and her taking over the steering wheel, he would’ve driven them both straight into a café. 

“Goddamn it!” She yelled, “But you’re calling me crazy?” 

The officers quickly lost control over their cars as the bullet holes drained the air out of their tires and before they could do anything about it, they were clashing into each other. One of the cars crashed into a restaurant, and the screams of the people were even louder than the terrible sound of the sirens that had chased them. 

 “See, just let Daddy handle it. There’s a reason you’re my designated passenger princess.” He grinned satisfied.

“See, let daddy handle it…” She mocked, “If it wasn’t for me you would not only still be in jail, but we would also both be lying dead on Papa Joe’s Ice Cream counter you bloody idiot!” She yelled, almost spitting into his face out of anger. She was expecting some sort of accountability from him but all she got was a laugh. “No I’m fucking for real Rafe Cameron, disrespect me like that again and I'll send your ungrateful ass to hell myself.” 

“Gosh how much I missed your little attitude.” He grinned, before placing his hand on her thigh. “Can’t wait to fuck it out of you.” 

“Keep up your attitude and the only thing you're gonna fuck for a very long time is your own damn hand.” 

“We’ll see ‘bout that.” He smirked, before turning his attention back on the road, earning nothing but an evil side eye from the girl next to him. She might be in a mood now, but he knew goddamn well that she'd come begging for his dick soon enough.

“Got a boat parked at Layla’s beach rental.” She stated simply, without looking at him. “Maybe you can press on that gas pedal a little more since you’re so good at it, and get us there before more cops show up and have taken over the marsh…” 

Without saying anything, he headed towards her best friend’s rental property, where the boat was waiting for them. It wasn’t as big as the Druthers, but it was more than enough to get them to the Mainland. Neither of them cared about where particularly, they just wanted to get as far away from the outer banks as possible. 

As they were getting the boat ready, they could hear the sirens already approaching. While Rafe loosened the Anker, (Y/N) started the motor. They were about to drive away when The officers, such as Sheriff Shoupe and Deputy Plumb jumped out of their cars. 

“We got company.” (Y/N) stated as Rafe took over the wheel. “I thought we got them good back there but apparently not good enough.”

He hit the gas pedal and slowly drove the boat away from shore, trying to ignore the amount of guns that were currently pointed at them.

“Put your hands up and step away from the wheel!” Shoupe yelled through a megaphone. “I repeat, Rafe Cameron, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) put your hands up and step away from the steering wheel. Do not make me repeat myself.” 

Rafe’s gaze went from the officers, who had all pointed their guns at the two of them, to her. She was standing steady, her hands not up in the air like she was told. He knew she would never oblige to them, (Y/N) was that kind of girl that would be rather dead than locked up, he knew that. Her eyes met his and in that moment it felt like the world stopped. He saw the fire in her eyes and it was burning brighter than ever, almost as if she was enjoying this. There was not an ounce of fear in them, there never was, except for the time she thought he died in the flames but he didn’t know that. He knew exactly what she was about to do which left him with only one option. She gave him a soft smile, before leaning in for a kiss. She didn’t plan on occupying his lips for that long, since she knew every second wasted could cost them their life but she didn’t care. This could be the last time she tasted his lips so she had to take her time. In a swift second, she pulled the gun out of her jeans pocket and started firing. 

The next few moments didn’t feel real for either of them, but the bullet holes on the boat proved that they were. Rafe had taken over the wheel as he sped away from the scene, while his girlfriend gave him cover. In this moment, Rafe experienced what true fear felt like. With every shot fired, there was a chance it could hit her, and alone the thought of it made him dizzy. (Y/N) on the other hand, had never felt more alive. She reveled in the gunfire that they, especially her, had started but her excitement soon died out when not only her bullets went out, but they also started getting shot at from their left, as police boats started to get closer to them. 

“Baby, I’m out!” She yelled out, trying to keep calm. 

“Here, take over.” He commanded as he pulled out his own gun. “And baby?” 

“Yes?” 

“Hit that damn gas pedal this time!” 

She smiled, before turning around and really hitting that pedal. It was the boat her dad had gifted her after she got accepted into college and it was a damn fast one. Other than a car, (Y/N) knew exactly how to drive a boat and soon their pursuers had to learn this the hard way. She was fast and soon, the officers had to let them go but it wasn’t only because (Y/N) was too fast for them and Rafe knew that. They had hit two of the officers. 

“Baby… baby they stopped.” (Y/N) squealed as she let go of the wheel and jumped into her boyfriend’s arms. 

“Thanks to you, princess.” He laughed softly. “You were amazing. You have no idea how much I love your crazy ass.”

“Oh, I know.” She chuckled, before leaning in for a kiss. “Now are you finally gonna fuck that attitude out of me, or what?” She didn’t have to ask twice, as he had pushed her into the cabin before she could even take another breath. “Shouldn’t we put the boat on autopilot first?” She giggled against his lips.

“Right.” He chuckled, before pushing her onto the couch. “Be right back!” He hurried outside and put the boat on autopilot while making sure one last time that they weren’t followed anymore. 

When he came back, she was lying on the couch, her upper body resting on her elbows and her legs spread, revealing the hot pink thong she was wearing underneath her baby blue jeans skirt. He mustered her body, his eyes traveling from her beautiful face, down to her tits that were barely covered underneath that black excuse of a tank top. The further his eyes traveled down her body the more saliva built up in his mouth, as he couldn’t wait to bury his head between her folds. 

With the biggest smile on his lips, he hopped on top of her, where he was welcomed by her tongue exploring his mouth. She gently placed her hand on the back of his head, so she could push him closer to her. They both had waited for this moment for months, so they didn’t want to waste any time. He didn’t want to waste any time, as he had yet to thank her for getting him out of there in the first place. 

As his tongue fought for dominance, he gently pulled them both up, so they were sitting. He helped her remove her top before she quickly hopped out of her skirt. He held in for a second, taking in the image in front of him. She was wearing a hot pink lace bra, covered in heart-shaped embroidery, matching the thong she was wearing. He didn’t recognize this set of lingerie, she must have gotten it while he was locked up. “You look perfect, princess.” He whispered as he crawled back on top of her. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, “But I need to see you as well, baby. Been too long since I felt those abs beneath my fingers.”

“Patience.” He smirked, before leaning back in. 

He quickly buried his tongue inside her mouth, before she even had the chance to take control. He enjoyed her longing to take over once in a while but not this time, not after what she just did for him. He had to be in charge tonight, not just because he had been behind bars for the past three months, but also because he had to be the one making her feel good tonight. He had to be the reason for every ounce of pleasure she was experiencing, it was his way of showing his gratitude towards what she had done for him, what she had risked for him. Not that anything he could ever do could ever make up for that. But if he was being honest to himself, a small part of him had to assert dominance to show her who was in charge, despite what he just did for him.

He let his fingers slide down her thighs, slowly to build up the anticipation she was already drowning in. “Baby…” She moaned into his mouth as if this would make anything better. Instead, it only motivated him to go slower. He knew how much it tortured her but he also knew her reward would be even bigger in the end. 

As he slowly let his fingers dance over her skin, he moved his tongue over to her neck, where he started nibbling on her earlobe, her sweet spot. As he worked himself over her skin, she filled his ears with sweet moans, that got louder and heavier the closer his fingers got to her core. He slipped them in without a warning, causing her to gasp out in pleasure. Her hands were sliding over his overall, gripping the rough material for dear life, as his fingers started to slowly but surely destroy her from the inside. She tried to bury them deeper by pushing herself onto him but he had loved her long enough, so he knew exactly what she was doing. 

“What did I tell you, baby?” He chuckled softly against her skin, sending goosebumps all over her skin. 

“Can’t help it, I… I need you.” She cried out desperately. “Need to feel you inside of me… “ She paused, “Deep inside of me.”

“Need to taste you first, baby. Need you to cum all over my face, can you do that for me, princess?”

“Hmmm.” She hummed, as she pushed herself further onto him. 

Rafe laughed in amusement but decided to grant her her wish. In a second at least. He planted a soft kiss on her lips, before moving down. Without giving her a warning, he ripped away her thong and buried his face between her folds. 

“Just as sweet as I remembered.” He mumbled, sending another set of vibrations straight through her core. “So fucking perfect.”

“C- can you shut up and…- 

“And what?” He asked sternly as he removed his tongue.

“Just suck me off already, I know how fucking sweet I taste…”

“You and that damn attitude.” He grinned but his expression was dark. “Do I need to remind you who's back in charge?” He asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question than anything else. Before she could even think of an answer, he had his tongue buried inside of her once again at a pace that was faster and stronger than anything else she had ever experienced. It took him less than fifteen seconds to make her cum but if she thought she finally got what she wanted, she was in for a bitter surprise. Because now he wouldn’t stop making her cum with everything but his dick, until she finally got who’s back in charge, and knowing her, he knew they were both in for a very long night.

Even though she knew she soon realized (latest after her third orgasm) that she wouldn't get his dick anytime soon, it didn’t stop her from complaining about it. It wasn’t until Rafe had enough of her, that he took the piece of fabric that was once her thong and stuffed it into her mouth. 

“One more, babygirl…” He cooed, “Give me one more and I promise you, you’ll get what you want.” 

She heard what he said but she was drowning so deep in pleasure and the enormous feeling of overstimulation, that she wasn’t able to process the words that left his mouth. It didn’t take long until another wave of pleasure ran over her body, completely swallowing her up in it.

“Good girl.” He grinned, as he licked her juice from his face. He gave her a second to catch her breath as he pulled off his now gray prison suit. He crawled on top of her, removed her panties, and planted soft kisses on her lips, where she could still taste herself on them. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered into her ear, as his hands reached under her back to remove her bra. 

As soon as it had landed on the floor across the room, he had her nipple surrounded by his tongue. He knew how much she loved this, how it sent shivers all over her skin, and how quickly it became torturous for her, as it made her build up an intense amount of pressure down her core, but never enough to release it. 

“Baby…” She cried out, still a little bit overwhelmed by the four orgasms he had already given her. 

“Say who’s in charge and you’ll get whatever it is that you want, princess.” He whispered, knowing exactly how hard it would be for her to admit that. He knew she had a hunger for power but like he had already promised himself earlier, she couldn’t have it, not tonight.

“Please…” She whimpered, as his fingers traced over his well-toned stomach.

“Say it, darling. Say it or I’ll stop.” He whispered against her skin, His hot breath burning right through to her.

“You…” She cried out.

“Who?” 

“You, Daddy. You’re in charge.” She whispered, “Tonight.”

He chuckled in amusement at her quiet addition, nothing different than what he had expected. Before she knew it, he had slammed his dick into her, causing her to moan out in pleasure. “We’ll see ‘bout that.” 

He started slow, his hands entangled in hers, as his tongue was dancing around with hers once again. He loved starting slow and then going faster and faster until all she could do was cry and beg for him to let her cum. She had her legs wrapped around his back, it was her way of regaining at least a tiny bit of control, as she had the power to pull him in even deeper if she wanted to. And combined with her nails digging deep into his skin, that was exactly what she did. But as his thrusts got deeper and faster, the pleasure started clouding her senses, resulting in her legs letting loose. 

“You think you can just trick me like that, pretty girl? Think again.” He smirked, but the expression on his face was dark. She knew exactly what that meant and before she even realized it, he had his hand wrapped around her throat. 

The faster he slammed into her, the louder and more pornographic her moans got, and the deeper her nails dug into her skin. He was sure by now, that he would have marks all over his back by the time they were done but he couldn't give less of a shit. All he wanted was for his girl to drown in pleasure and if took a bloody back to archive that, then so be it. For her he would drown himself in pain, he would bleed for her, hell he would die for her. And as she had proved earlier, she didn’t feel one single bit different about him. 

The tighter the grip around her throat got, the tighter became the knot in her stomach. He felt her walls tighten around him but he wasn’t done with her. Not yet. In a swift motion, he had removed his dick and swung her around. She was about to complain, but before she got a word out, he had rammed his dick back inside of her. 

“Such a good girl.” He moaned into her ear, as he grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her head back, and wrapped his hand back around her throat.

He couldn't see it but the tighter he grabbed her, the brighter grew the smile on her lips, as the tears streamed over her face. He hit her right at her sweet spot, the spot he was only able to hit in doggy and the spot that not only caused her to cry but also made her drown in pleasure. It didn’t take long until she felt her fifth orgasm building up, followed by the feeling of his dick starting to twitch, as he felt her walls suffocating him. Their moans started to sync up as if they had never done anything else before. She struggled to stay on all fours, as her orgasm rushed over her, he shot his load right up her core, before he collapsed on top of her, causing them both to fall on the couch. 

Rafe might have felt like the boss tonight, like he was in charge but what he didn’t realize was that every single thing she did and said after she got him out, was a controlled move to get her exactly where she was right now. So who was truly in charge tonight? The boy that was fucking her into oblivion, or the girl that was screaming through the night, as her fifth orgasm of the night, rushed over her?

They stayed like this for a little bit and as they both tried to catch their breath, he let his hand travel through her hair, gently stroking her head. Normally it was her who did that, but Rafe knew she needed some extra care tonight, especially after what she had put herself through for him. 

After he had cleaned her up, he wrapped them both in a soft blanket. They were lying outside on the deck now, under the sky, because he knew how much she loved falling asleep under the stars. Her head was resting on his chest, as his fingers softly danced over her skin. 

“I don’t think I can ever thank you enough, baby.”

“You know, I would die for you, right?” She whispered, her eyes already closed. “You are my everything, Rafe Cameron, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

He knew what she said was true, and that was what made it hurt even more. Alone the thought of her sacrificing herself for him, made his heart bleed but at the same time, a selfish part of him felt good, knowing he was loved by someone this much. 

“I would do the same for you, princess. In a second. Kinda already said that when I was asking you to marry me.” He chuckled softly.

“I know.” She smiled against his chest. 

“Till death do us part?”

“No. There’s nothing that could ever part me from you.”

“Not even with my soul burning in hell?” He chuckled.

“I would follow you anywhere, my love. Even into the depths of hell itself.”

add yourself to my tag list here

tag list: @lexacantsleep @drewstarkeyslut @spideysimpossiblegirl @ditzyzombiesblog @cartiiwannagotoplutoo (this is the prison break fic)

[bumblesimagines]

this doesn't mean anything.

- Sarah Cameron

this doesn't mean anything.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

Got carried away with this one

In the world of the Outer Banks, Kooks were seen as untouchable. They were the stuck-up, spoiled, privileged kids who could do, say, or buy anything they wanted as long as they had daddy or mommy's credit card in their back pocket. They puffed out their chests, turned up their nose, and spat venom just because they knew they could. Their parents would flock and point fingers if any harm came to them, demanding Sherriff Peterkin and Deputy Shoupe do something about the 'dirty Pogues targeting their poor babies' as if Peterkin and Shoupe could do anything more than let them off with a warning or a brief night in a cell.

While they were utterly pathetic and useless, (Y/N) found them incredibly amusing. Nothing was better than watching the smugness get knocked right out of a Kook. Tears would immediately spring in their eyes and their perfect skin would stain with purple and red coloring that'd stay no matter how many ice packs they put to it. The Kooks that talked the biggest game were often the ones that squealed first in fights. Their scratchy, obnoxious voices would plead for mercy, shouting empty promises of staying away and never bothering them again. Rafe Cameron was the only one who could handle a little pain, but even then, the boy was as boring as watching paint dry. One look from his daddy dearest and he went away with his tail tucked between his legs. 

His sister, as (Y/N) came to learn, was a lot more fun.

"Remember the rules, guys. No hardcore drugs, don't get blackout drunk, and don't start anything without me." (Y/N) called out after his younger brother and his group of friends. He was certain the nerd would keep them out of trouble, as he always did when they hung out, but a reminder never hurt anybody. The four of them scampered further down the beach, kicking up sand in their wake and disappearing amongst the other teenagers. They weren't much younger than him, only a year or two below him in school, but they were as annoying as children and attracted trouble wherever they went.

Fishing his cigarette pack out of his jacket pocket and sticking one between his lips, he allowed his gaze to drift over the party-goers present. Pogues, Kooks, and a few tourists who appeared wildly out of place with their big sun hats blocking half their vision. He recognized Rafe and his posse of coked-up boys lingering near the water and Barry making use of eager Kooks and their heavy pockets. His attention dropped down to his lighter and he grunted when it refused to light for longer than a second.

"Maybe it's a sign you should quit." A feathery voice piped up behind him and he turned around to find the treasured princess of Figure Eight.

Everyone knew Sarah Cameron. She was the beloved daughter of Ward Cameron, the pride and joy of Figure Eight, and the most envied and desired girl in Kildare. Everyone tripped over themselves trying to be in her good graces, trying to get a taste of the Cameron wealth and status. Ever since she entered high school, he'd heard all about her numerous relationships. She lept from boy to boy and left a trail of broken, jealous hearts in her path. Her most recent boy toy had been Topper Thornton, the son of the renowned Doctor Thornton and grandson of Judge Holden. JJ had left enough bruises on him for (Y/N) to know him well. (Y/N) thought they looked more like siblings than lovers.

"Nobody ever taught you not to talk to strangers, princess?" 

"I would hardly call you a stranger." She said and lifted the mai tai in hand up to her pink-colored lips. Her eyes twinkled with the setting sun, lightening the deep shade of brown. "Everyone knows the Maybanks."

"And nobody likes them. You might have to forfeit your Kook card if you get caught talking to me, Miss Cameron." He cooed teasingly and she smiled despite herself, rolling her pretty eyes and brushing her hair away from her face when the wind gently tousled it. His eyes drifted down to the dark knee-length sundress she wore decorated in orange and yellow flowers. It looked better than what most of the girls from the Cut wore to fancy events.

"I don't care about my Kook card, (Y/N). I think this whole... Pogue vs Kook thing is so stupid. We're all living on the same island. Why should we be giving each other shit for where we were born?" 

"I'm sure you'll be a just and fair ruler, princess." His words made her roll her eyes again and she laughed quietly into her can. Even her drink of choice screamed rich. Everyone else stuck to cheap beer or half-filled bottles they stole from the kitchen cabinet when their parents weren't home. Sarah twirled a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing away from him and toward her friends. They hadn't noticed her yet and for a moment, (Y/N) expected her to call out to them and walk away. But she looked back at him with a familiar coy smile. 

"Wanna talk somewhere more... private?"

He wondered how annoyed John B would be when he learned he'd taken Figure Eight's princess back to his place. It'd been closer than the Maybank residence and had less chance of a drunken and drugged Luke staggering through the front door ready to ruin (Y/N)'s night. Kiara would certainly throw a tantrum about him sleeping with her ex-best friend and if Kiara got upset, Pope would quickly follow in defense of his crush. Annoying little shits but they made JJ happy and that was enough for (Y/N) to tolerate their shenanigans. 

Tugging up his pants and zipping them back up, he gazed at the dozing Kook. Her long blonde hair had been sprawled out over the dark pillowcase and she'd buried half her face in the pillow, her parted lips forming a small spot of drool. As content and comfortable as she looked, he needed her back home before she chose to overstay her welcome under false assumptions. 

"Hey, princess." (Y/N) reached down to move some strands of hair away from her face and shook her shoulder. She whined quietly and squeezed her eyes before rolling fully onto her stomach and burying her face further in the pillow defiantly. "You need to get going before Ward calls the cops 'cause his precious girl didn't come home."

Tiredly lifting her head, she squinted at him through the sunlight. "Are you worried about Ward or worried about what your friends will say?" 

"My friends won't give a shit about me taking the Kook princess's virginity, sweets." Her face reddened considerably and he smirked. "My brother's friends might get pissed if they see a Kook on our turf. And I don't want problems with Carrera. She makes good food."

Sarah finally sat up and raked her fingers through her hair to detangle the knots as she searched the floor for her belongings. Her eyes finally settled on her underwear and she pursed her lips, the tips of her ears turning a soft red. "You ripped them." She murmured and her fingers began to toy with the ends of her hair. 

"You didn't complain when I did it." (Y/N) scooped the sundress up from the floor and tossed it in her direction, arms folding over his chest while he watched her get dressed and rise from the bed. She awkwardly tugged at the dress and retrieved her torn underwear from the floor before shoving it into her purse and turning to face him. 

"So-"

"I can drop you off at Word for Word. It's the closest store to Figure Eight so one of your little friends should be able to pick you up. I'd drive you home but I've got work and Barry will kill me if I'm late again." (Y/N) explained quickly and slipped his shirt back on, snatching his keys from the nightstand and jerking his head toward the door when Sarah remained rooted in her spot. 

"That's it? You're just going to... ditch me in the middle of nowhere?" She stared at him in a mixture of surprise and irritation, and (Y/N) sighed, preparing the speech he often found himself telling those who couldn't catch a hint. He was a Maybank, for Christ's sake. Nothing about the men in his family screamed commitment. His father could hardly hold down a job and JJ was as much of a playboy as the next guy.

"Sarah, baby, this doesn't mean anything. I'm sorry if your feelings are hurt but I asked if you were sure and offered to drive you back like five times last night. If you wanted your first time to be with your soulmate, you should've let me know and I would've taken you back to your boyfriend. Now, unless you want to get into a screaming match with Kiara, I suggest you start figuring out who's taking you the rest of the way."

[allbark-no-bite]

who are you mad at.

topper thornton x reader (wc: 3.4k)

summary: Topper doesn’t appreciate John B’s friendship with his girlfriend. sometimes all it takes is a blowjob and a little bit of forgiveness

warnings: 18+ smut, blow jobs, mentions of blood, over possessive boyfriend

author’s note: not me actually writing something with plot lol. i cannot believe all of the support i got on my last post, thank you all! i’m know that this isn’t Rafe lol, but i hope you’ll all give it a shot!

————————————————————————

As a little girl, I could never understand why the sheriff and the judge always drank coffee on my grandads front porch. It took me a few years to realize that it was probably for the same reason that the judge's grandson was always so sweet on me.

Politics in a small town like Kildare run deep on family ties and favors. It's all about who's blood is running through who and who's bed you wake up in when the sun comes up. As my best friend Sarah has often laughed about, it's all about how you know or who you'll blow.

Speaking of which, Topper's zipping up the fly on his jeans, fingers fumbling as he misses the hole for the button and has to try again. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, blue eyes distracted as he fidgets with his shaggy but nevertheless, neat crop of hair. No one would expect anything less of Figure Eight's golden boy.

I can't help but smile, biting my lip in an effort to conceal it from where I'm knelt on the floor. He's stupidly pretty. Blue eyes, straight nose, chin that dimples when he smiles.

He must feel my gaze on him because he catches my eye as he's buckling his belt and looks back at me. "What?" he laughs, breaking out into a bashful smile that matches my own.

"I don't know," I say, still smiling, and accept the hand he offers to pull me to my feet.

I don't remember when exactly Topper and I stopped being friends and started actually dating. It all happened so naturally that I don't know if we ever really distinguished between the two. One day we were just friends hanging out, getting drunk at the Boneyard, and then the next week he's kissing me at a party for everyone to see, like it wasn't a big deal that my best friend was kissing me. In some ways I guess it wasn't. It had never occurred to me that I would date anyone else. Sure Topper had dated Sarah for a while, but even that was short lived, and he had always been very upfront with me about it.

"Just you, I guess," I propose, grinning wider as he circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

He's dressed up nicer than usual this evening for the Carrera's anniversary party in a billowy blue and white button up and khakis. The light colors pale in comparison to his bronzed skin, a likely permanent feature that the Carolina sun has given him.

"Really?" he hums, pecking my lips as my head tilts back to look up at him. My lips purse pliantly in response. Topper brushes aside the hair from my shoulder and hums, immediately pleased with the amount of exposed skin that he is rewarded with. The tank top that I'm wearing gives him the opportunity to ghost his lips along my shoulder until he settles on placing a kiss to the crevice of my neck.

My fingers curl into the brunette roots at the base of his neck at the attention. "It's not often I get you to myself."

With Topper's mom being the overbearing mother that she was, and the pressure that came with being the Judge's grandson, it was hard to get him out of their sights. However, if either bothered him, he never confessed such qualms to me. Such reasons are also why I think he was more privy to the political concept of our relationship than I was.

I remember being sixteen when a neighbor called the cops on one of Kelce's parties well after midnight. Of course no one knew this until Shoupe and a couple of his deputies showed up, sirens blaring. Most definitely a little buzzed and close to sobbing in the backseat of Shoupe's patrol car, I couldn't understand why Topper was so calm at the time. He just kept repeating, 'Don't worry about it, baby' and 'It'll all be fine'. At the time I hadn't noticed we were the only ones not in handcuffs. I thought for sure I was going to spent the night in jail and then my parents were going to kill me the next morning. He obviously knew something I didn't because twenty minutes later the patrol car was pulling into my driveway, Judge Thornton waiting on the porch with my grandad to take Topper home. The three of them shook hands and not a word was uttered about the incident again.

Topper dips his head to capture my mouth again, his teeth catching on the pout of my bottom lip.

Pressed to the front of my body, I feel his dick twitch in interest. I'm half compelled to drop to my knees and suck him off a second time just for the hell of it. The only problem is that he's got lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt is wrinkled and he's going to be late.

"Topper—" I begin.

"I know—I know—I know," he stresses, leaning down to kiss behind my ear again and then my cheek. "I'm going, I'm going."

Just when he pulls back and I go to step away, he grabs my face again, drawing my mouth back for another kiss.

"Topper—"

"I love you," he mumbles quickly after what is probably his hundredth kiss. "Okay. I'm going. I'll see you in a minute."

I watch him slip out the back door of the pool house we'd escaped to momentarily. I look over at the clock. What was supposed to be a quick five minute make out had turned into nearly half an hour. Thankfully, no one had been sent to look for us — namely my friends. Besides Kie and Sarah, the boys were off treasure hunting with Big John.

With all of the craziness going on in the past week, I was glad for the occasion to celebrate and enjoy the party. The evening air is cool and people are chattering excitedly, laughing and enjoying drinks. I spot Kie with her parents as I move throughout the crowd and she waves me over with a smile. Once I’m close enough, she latches onto my arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Big John was kidnapped, the boys are running off to South America to save him, and my parents won’t let me out of their sight,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Yeah, shit,” Kie stresses.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it.” Turning to her dad with the brightest smile I can muster, I link arms with Kie. Thankfully, I fit in the with standard of friends Kid’s dad wants her to have, and he seems to be thankful I hang around.

“Hey, Mr. Carrera. I’m just going to steal Kie away for a moment. I promise we’ll be right back!”

He blinks, as if thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, just stay out of trouble you two.”

“We will!” I take off, dragging her with me as soon as the words leave his mouth. We haul it through throngs of tipsy guests, dodging anyone who might think to stop us.

“Wait!” Kie yelps snagging my arm before we reach the dock. Out of breath, I skid to a stop beside her.

“What—”

“Oh God,” she breathes.

Heart racing with adrenaline, I take another step towards the dock, dragging her along with me. “Kie, whatever it is, we have to go—”

“It’s John B. He’s talking to Topper.”

Straight ahead of us, I can make out John B’s wild head of hair and dingy yellow shirt. Him being the taller of the two, I glimpse the familiar white of Topper’s shirt just in front of him. Their voices are escalating by the moment, and I can make out the sound of Topper saying, “I want to know why you’re looking for my fucking girlfriend—”

“Oh God,” I repeat this time.

“(y/n), you need to go,” Kie stresses.

I take off before she even finishes her sentence, not even excusing myself as I dash past unsuspecting guests. People have started to stare and a sizable crowd has formed around them.

“— just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can’t have friends without you.”

Topper scoffs. “Oh I see. This is about your little treasure hunting bullshit. So you think you can just run around with my girlfriend, do whatever the hell you want with her without me knowing?”

John B shoves him backwards, hard. “That’s not true!”

“John B, stop!” I shout, shoving my way to the front of the crowd as Topper catches himself. But it’s too late, John B is already grabbing the front of Topper’s shirt and yanking him to his feet.

The thing is, it’s not that Topper can’t defend himself, he’s more than capable of holding his own. It’s that he won’t. He won’t ruin his reputation in front of half the town. All he does is sneer, breathing hard as his blue eyes glint with hate. Topper had never liked my friends, only tolerated them for my sake — up until now.

“You think I don’t know?” Topper jeers. “All you’ve ever wanted is to get with (y/n).”

That’s all it takes for John B to swing. I scream as Topper stumbles backwards to the ground. Chaos erupts around us. I see Mr. Carrera hoist Topper to his feet, and my heart clenches at the sight. Blood is leaking from his nose and a dark rouge colored ring has already begun to form around his eye. When I move forward to help him, John B grabs my arm.

“We have to go. Now.”

My feet planted into the ground, I glance down at his split knuckles, and then back at Topper. Who do I choose? My best friend or my boyfriend?

Voice strained, I turn to John B. “I can’t just leave—”

“HELLO!! Now or never, guys!” JJ is on the dock with Kiara, and Sarah. Pope and Cleo are already in the boat.

“Go!” John B urges, shoving me in front of him. With one last look over my shoulder at Topper’s bloody face, I take off running down the dock with John B behind me.

—

I know he's mad before he even yanks the passenger side door open and drags me by my elbow to the car. Although his scowl and matching black eye are pretty heavy indicators, it's the stalk from the drivers side and around the front of the Jeep that tips me off.

"Get in the car, (y/n)," he barks without so much as a second glance at me.

John B and Pope glance at each other apprehensively. JJ and Kiara share similar looks.

With the passenger side door now open and Topper waiting for me to march myself over there, I hesitantly stand my ground. Anxiously, I swallow back the swell in my throat. "Go home, Top."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and shakes his head. "This—this is fucking ridiculous. Get in the car, (y/n)."

When I don't make a move either way, Cleo speaks up. "Leave her alone, man. She ain't gotta go nowhere wit' you." Her thick accent rings out loud and clear, but Topper pretends as though he doesn't hear her.

Having enough of our back and forth game, Topper strides over and grabs a firm hold of my elbow, intending to move me himself. Although I take a reflexive step backwards, I don't fight him off. At the same time, John B steps forward, ready to give Topper a black eye to match the other.

"John B, no," I immediately blurt out, twisting as best I can in Topper's grasp. "It's fine. It's fine." Sighing I turn back to Topper. "Okay," I relent. "Let's go."

We drive in silence for a while, waiting for the other to speak. I'm half hoping he won't and we'll make the entirety of the trip without uttering a word. Across the seat, we make eye contact and I scowl at him for the split second our eyes meet. Then I turn away and cross my arms with an air of defiance.

When I glance sideways at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the road. I know him well enough to know that he's weighing out his options on what to say, determining what kind of conversation we're going to have.

He opens his mouth, starting to say something, then closes it and drags a hand over his jaw. "How many times did I call you?"

I shrug. "I don't know—"

"God dammit, (y/n). How many times did I call you!??" He slams his hand down on the console this time.

"I DON'T KNOW, TOPPER."

I do. Twenty-seven. He called twenty-seven times in addition to the missed texts and multiple question marks. I don't admit that though because it's easier to scream back at him than to admit that I was purposely avoiding his calls.

"You have got to stop hanging around with the wrong people. Start making better decisions." He's lowered his voice to a more appropriate volume now.

I glance over at him, a narrowed look on my face. "Who are you mad at, Topper?" I question. "Because I don't think it's me."

In the drivers seat, he continues to stare ahead at the road. "It's always fucking John B, isn't it. You always have to go to his rescue."

I set my jaw, knowing where his mind is and where this is going. "I didn't sleep with him, Topper."

Topper scoffs as if to make light of the situation. "Oh, for sure. You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not like that. He's my friend."

We pull into his driveway, and Topper finally turns to me after parking the car. "Yeah? Well I'm your friend too, (y/n). You ever fucking think about that? Why do you think you're not sitting in jail right now with the rest of your so called friends?" He jabs a finger into his chest. "Me. Because I care about you!"

My back pressed up against the passenger side door, all I can do is blink in surprise. I'm not used to Topper yelling at me, and I'm not so sure I like it. I'd never thought about it that way before and guilt begins to creep into the pit of my stomach. My eyes suddenly sting and my nose burns with the threat of tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper barley audible, my voice cracking.

Topper falls back heavily into his seat and sighs, running a hand over his face. Without a word, he gathers his keys from the truck's ignition and steps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Teary eyed, I watch him take the steps up the porch and pace up and down the length of it while repeatedly running a frustrated hand through his hair. I get out of his truck and walk up the steps after a few minutes. Confident that he's done yelling but unsure of where we stand at the moment, I stop just short of him.

Hands in his pockets, Topper runs his gaze over me from head to toe after coming to a stop in front of me before he emits another heavy sigh and curls his hand around my jaw, forcing me to look upwards at him. "Answer me when I call you, alright?"

Nodding, I swallow under the weight of his hand as his fingers travel down to my throat. His blue eyes are focused and yet lack their usual jubilance. I nearly whine in relief when he leans down to kiss me.

He tastes fresh, like he always does, a mix between peppermint gum and mint toothpaste. The taste resonates within me a type of unspoken forgiveness that I sense is being granted as his other hand presses my body into his. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts, and it sends my heart racing in anticipation.

The thing about Topper is that he's always been able to read me impossibly well, and so when he disconnects our mouths by using the leverage of his hand on my throat to hold me back, he chuckles airily. "Feel me? That's what you do to me, you little tease."

I paw at him, grabbing at the waistband of his shorts to pull his body closer. Topper is nearly a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Top."

He hums, the thumb of his hand moving to tug at the swollen pout of my bottom lip. "Are you? He's only giving me a hard time now, not even allowing me to answer before his thumb slips into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. "Going to be good for me then?"

The weight of his thumb is so soothingly familiar that I forget to respond in favor of suckling around the digit.

"Baby." He's quick to remind me, drawing his thumb from my mouth and swiping it wetly across my cheek to grip my jaw again.

My flushed cheeks forced into a pout, I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. "Mhm."

Topper glances over his shoulder, briefly surveying the closed blinds of the windows looking out on to the front porch, and then back to me.

"Alright, on your knees, pretty girl."

He doesn't have to ask twice. He's undoing his belt with one experienced hand and gathering a fist full of my hair at the back of my head with the other. Once removed from the confines of his boxers, his cock bobs at the freedom.

If there's one thing myself and multiple other girls in the Outer Banks can attest to, it's that sucking off Topper Thornton is a pleasure. I'd heard the rumors whispered around school even before we started dating. It was weird at the time, having to hear that kind of thing about my best friend, but once we started dating, I understood where they were coming from. With some guys, blowing them is an outright chore, but not Topper. He knows exactly what he's working with and how to use it.

Once again, he's heavy in my mouth. This time in a pleasurably aching way. His tip nudges the back of my throat, and I have to remind myself to relax and breathe through my nose as tears spring to my eyes. He swipes away a stray tear before it can fall.

"There you go, baby. Good."

He doesn't buck up into my throat, forcing me to gag and sputter as I try to accommodate his length — at least not this time. Topper just fists my hair and rocks slowly back and forth, eyes rolling as my throat clenches around him. My nose nearly digs into his pelvis by the time he's satisfied that his cock is nestled as far as it can get into the heat of my throat.

With the makeshift ponytail, Topper pulls almost all of the way out of my mouth before guiding himself back in. Each time the mushroomed tip kisses the back of my throat, he pulls his cock out of my mouth again. All it takes is a few good strokes before he's spilling into my mouth, moaning while I struggle to take him all. He pulls out when he's finished.

"Swallow," he instructs, tilting my jaw back so that I have but one option. Not that I would argue with him anyhow. I'm used to how he tastes, salty and strangely satisfying, His hot release slides down my throat. At first I would have wrinkled my nose at the thought of such a thing, but strangely, I've become accustomed to the taste. It's uniquely Topper, as odd as that sounds.

He helps me to my feet and plants another slow kiss to my swollen lips. I keen at the attention, my brain feeling sluggish and wishing he would just wrap his large hand around my throat again.

"I love you," he finally murmurs, pressing a find kiss to my forehead; a stark contrast to his manhandling moments before.

"Love you too."

Around us, the porch goes dark for a split second and I bolt into Topper's arms before the lights flicker back on. This repeats a few more times; long enough for us to realize that his dad is likely on the other side of the front door.

Topper groans. "Shit."

"Shit."

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Shoupe x me

[obxsummer]

Broken Pieces // JJ Maybank

when jj, kie, and pope get the notification that you escaped the camerons again, they decide they're done sitting on the sidelines. it's up to jj to talk you off the ledge that you've been pushed on.

jj maybank x routledge!reader

warnings: this is dark umm su!cidal mentions, guns, involuntary drugs, mentions of abuse, no use of y/n

a/n: sorry this request took so long! i changed it a little bit just because I wasn't 100% comfortable but I hope it does justice :)

navigation 

--

The past few weeks in the Outer Banks had been like none before. Tourists had watched along as friends were lost to the sea, families were torn in two, and the best sheriff Kildare County had seen was killed in the blink of an eye.

John B and Sarah, presumed dead, had left a void that seemed impossible to fill. But the greatest torment was reserved for another soul—John B's younger sister, you. Your life had taken a nightmarish turn as you were thrust into the clutches of the Camerons. In the absence of your brother, you found yourself trapped in a living nightmare.

The Camerons, exploiting their legal authority as your guardians held you in an iron grip. Everything was isolated, cut off from your friends, your life, and any glimmer of hope. Your attempts to escape, though frequent, only led to capture, a vicious cycle of desperation and frustration. JJ, Kiara, and Pope had heard whispers of the attempts to break free, each thwarted by Shoupe returning you to Ward Cameron with no questions or complaints.

The remaining Pogues stood in The Wreck. Everything felt so wrong to be here, out living their lives, when they couldn’t get you home. Going to school felt so wrong when they were lacking the Routledge presence and leadership that came with both you and John B.

“Do you think she knows John B’s alive?” Kiara’s question was quiet as she referenced the text that had come through hours before. Your phone number was included on the group but nobody had heard from you in the weeks since you’d been taken.

Her question was left hanging in the air as Shoupe and his deputies, who had been taking their lunch break, quickly left with no explanation. 

As the three friends exchanged quiet glances, a shrill ping cut through the heavy silence. Their phones buzzed in unison, displaying an alert that brought their collective pain into sharp focus—you had run away again. Kiara, Pope, and JJ exchanged urgent glances, their eyes mirroring their shared concern.

"We can't just sit here anymore. We've got to do something."

Pope nodded, his jaw clenched. "You're right. It's been too long. We have to find her ourselves.”

JJ's mind was racing, thoughts of your desperate situation flooding his mind. He knew you well enough to understand your pain, your yearning for a family that cared, especially after losing your mother at a young age. "Let's split up and cover more ground. Kiara, you head towards the docks. Pope, check out the beach area. I'll go back to the Chateau. She might have gone there."

The tension in the air grows with each passing minute. JJ's heart raced as he treaded through the overgrown path leading to the Routledge residence. The memories of John B and Sarah hung heavy on his mind, adding a bitter layer to the anguish he felt for your predicament.

As he approached the door, he could feel his pulse quicken. The heavy atmosphere of the place was suffocating, a stark contrast to the lively household he remembered from his childhood visits. Taking a deep breath, he knocked, his knuckles rapping gently against the wood. The door creaked open but he expected that. 

The house was dimly lit, the air heavy with memories. And there, in the midst of it all, stood you. Your once vibrant eyes were now dulled by pain, your face stained with tear tracks. A loaded gun, JJ’s gun, was clutched tightly in your trembling hand. How you had it, he didn’t want to know.

JJ's heart plummeted at the sight. He slowly raised his hands in a calming gesture, his voice gentle as he spoke, "Hey, hey, Birdie. It's me. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."

You turned to him, eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation. "JJ? What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," he replied softly. "We all did. Kie and Pope are on their way." JJ was quick to notice your bloodshot eyes and the shaking in your hands. Whatever Rafe and Ward had given you was still in your system and you weren’t handling it well.

Tears streamed down your face as you took a shaky step back, the gun still pointed in his direction. "Why? No one cares. No one cares about me. John B is gone. Dad is gone. I should've gone with John B. I should be with them."

JJ's heart ached as he listened to your broken words. He knew he had to tread carefully. "Sweetheart, I know. I know you miss him, but we care about you. I care about you. We've been searching for you because we want to help."

Telling you John B was alive would only set you off right now, but JJ wished the knowledge could bring you some comfort.

You shook your head, voice trembling as anger mixed with grief. "You don't understand, JJ. The Camerons are horrible. They're abusive, Ward a-and Rafe. And no one is helping me. I'm trapped, stuck in this repetitive loop with no hope."

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air. JJ's fists clenched involuntarily as he fought to control his emotions. He took a step closer. "I’m here now, yeah? I won't let you go through this alone. We're your family too."

“I… I see him every day. In my dreams, in-in the house,” You choked for air in your lungs. Your grip on the gun loosened slightly, and your shoulders shook as sobs racked your body. "You don't know what it's like, JJ. Every day is a nightmare. No one believes me. No one listens. They hurt me, control every damn thing. And no one helps, no one cares. I might as well be invisible, 'cause no one loves me.”

He continued to approach slowly, his eyes locked onto yours. "I get it, I get it okay. I’m right here, a-and we're here to help you get out of this nightmare. You don't have to face it alone."

A mixture of vulnerability and anger crossed your face. You’d given up long before you saw him. "You can't save me, JJ. No one can."

JJ's heart shattered, his chest tightening as he struggled to rein in his own emotions. He knew he had to reach you, to break through the fortress of pain and despair that had taken control of your thoughts. He knew you didn’t know how the gun worked and the fact that the safety was still on was the slightest tinge of relief he had. 

His voice cracked with raw emotion as he said your name, "We love you, I love you. I would never leave you, okay? You're not invisible, and you're not alone. You're family, a family that cares about you more than words can say."

Your grip on the weapon slackened, and JJ approached slowly, his heart pounding. One wrong step and he would fuck this whole thing up. "Give me the gun, baby," he implored gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "Please. Let me fix this.”

You looked at him, tears streaming down your face, and hesitated. JJ saw the window of opportunity and jumped, smacking the gun out of your hand as the two of you collided with the floor. The scream you let out was heartwrenching as he pulled you into a careful embrace, letting you cry against his shoulder.

The floodgates had opened, all the pain and anger you'd bottled up pouring forth. JJ held tightly, offering a sanctuary amidst the outburst of your emotions. You screamed and shoved against him but he refused to let go.

As your sobs subsided, he let out a deep breath of relief. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He continued to hold you in his lap, your face buried in his neck as you clung to him for some form of grounded relief.

The two of you sat like that for a decent amount of time. Long enough that Kie and Pope had come to the Chateau for themselves and witnessed you both on the floor before staying out on the porch to give you space.

“John B’s alive,” JJ’s whisper was soft. He figured you were slowly calming down and with the water he’d been forcing you to drink, he hoped things were exiting your system.��

Your eyes were teary when you pulled back to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

He kept his palm against the back of your neck to hold you while digging for his phone to show you the text. Your face shifted to a pained expression as you viewed the conversation on the screen before all the tension exited your body at once and you curled back into JJ’s hold.

“Is this real?” Your voice cracked as you continued to stare at the picture on the phone.

“Yep,” JJ said as he took the phone back, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his actions a soothing gesture that spoke volumes. The chaos of emotions that had consumed the moment was slowly giving way to a sense of clarity and understanding.

"Holy shit," you murmured, your voice filled with a mix of wonder and amazement. You continued to stare at the screen, your gaze fixed on the image of your brother and his girlfriend. The realization that they were alive, that there was hope, seemed almost too good to be true.

JJ's arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close as you leaned into his embrace. The room seemed to hold a sense of warmth and comfort, a sanctuary from the storms of the outside world.

The weight of uncertainty had lifted, and a glimmer of hope shone brightly in its place. As you held onto JJ, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you had someone who would support you through it all. And in that moment, as you stared at the screen and held onto each other, you knew everything would be okay. John B would come home, you’d make sure of it.

--

navigation

[cherienymphe]

The Less I Know The Better XX (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, manipulation, underage drinking, unhealthy relationship, non canon ages, pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist

summary:  When you start dating Rafe Cameron, no one is more surprised than you when your best friend JJ takes it really well. However, no one is more surprised than JJ when he’s forced to see his once frumpy BFF in an entirely new light, suddenly terrified of losing what he never knew he had to the person he hates most.

~

“I need someone to start talking, and I need answers.”

Those were apparently the wrong words to say, because Sarah, John B. and Pope all started talking at once. The ambulance had long taken Kie to the hospital, and Rafe had long been taken into custody. JJ swallowed, eyes finding you as you were the only one aside from him who wasn’t saying anything. JJ ran his gaze over you, feeling too many emotions to process.

You’d told Rafe.

You’d actually told Rafe, but if the way Rafe came flying in here without you was anything to go by, JJ would guess that it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. You were sitting on the ground, eyes staring straight ahead, and he’d known you well enough to know that it wasn’t just from crying. You were drunk, and JJ frowned at that.

His gaze fell to Kie’s blood on your hands, and his heart clenched. Kie was his friend, had been his friend almost as long as you and John B. had been, and seeing her get shot had definitely made his heart sink. He remembered the way both him and Rafe had frozen when Sarah screamed, in shock at the turn of events. JJ’s head had spun when Kie collapsed, but past all the anger and fear and worry…

JJ had felt hope.

It had taken him all of a minute to tell Shoupe exactly who was responsible, and he hadn’t missed the look on your face. The betrayal. JJ resisted the urge to scoff at that, narrowed eyes on you. The nerve of you to look at him like he’d done something wrong was laughable. Rafe had shot Kie, her health up in the air, and you had looked like JJ was to blame instead of Rafe.

“Alright, alright,” Shoupe waved his friends off. “I can’t make sense of a thing with all of y’all yelling like that, so…”

He trailed off, familiar eyes falling to JJ.

“I’m bringing you…”

Time seemed to stand still as his eyes then traveled to you.

“…and you to the station with me. Y’all are going to answer some questions and help me make sense of all this.”

You had finally moved at that, looking up at him in shock. His friends seemed to react the same way, Sarah’s cold gaze briefly falling to JJ.

“Wait, what? Why both of them? No, no, take one of us,” John B. spoke up, but Shoupe wasn’t hearing it.

“You think I don’t know what goes on in my town?”

They all quieted at that as he looked between JJ and you, hands on his hips.

“I’m not stupid,” he told them, waving over one of his deputies. “I have a feeling what this all was about, so you and you, you’re coming with me.”

Shoupe whistled at JJ, and he reluctantly followed behind him, looking over his shoulder to see the deputy helping you to your feet. He watched you get into a different car, and JJ sighed as he was guided into the backseat of Shoupe’s. JJ’s gaze found his lap, and while he desperately hoped Kie was going to be okay, never wanting this, he couldn’t say he was unhappy about the position Rafe was in.

JJ’s dad had been in and out of jail enough for JJ to know North Carolina laws like the back of his hand. If Kie didn’t make it, then Rafe was never seeing the light of day again, and while he prayed to whoever was up there that Kie didn’t die, he couldn’t say the idea of Rafe never being with you again didn’t make him happy. If Kie did make it though, Rafe was still going to jail. How long depended on some things, but most especially Ward Cameron’s money.

However, he was sure that with witnesses and the gun belonging to Ward and Kie on her way to the hospital, even their money wouldn’t get him out of this.

“Start talking,” Shoupe said as soon as he sat him down.

JJ sighed, looking out of the window and seeing you sitting in the hall.

“I’ve watched you both grow up, you know,” the older man’s voice reached his ears. “Like two peas in a pod, and then I watched her start hanging around with Ward Cameron’s son, so…”

JJ turned back around, swallowing as Shoupe held his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, because I’m not stupid.”

“Rafe tried to kill me, and he hit Kie instead,” JJ said with a shrug.

“Why?”

“Jealousy,” JJ said, his tone indicating that he was guessing. “Claims I hurt her.”

“…and did you?”

“She’s my best friend, Shoupe. I would never,” JJ argued.

“…and I’ve seen people hurt the same people they took vows with, so that doesn’t mean a thing in my line of work.”

JJ rolled his eyes, looking away.

“Now, I’m going to talk to her, and I’m going to see what she says,” he mused. “…and if she says differently, I’m coming for you if she decides to press charges, so don’t you go anywhere.”

JJ pulled his lip between his teeth as he got up, his blue gaze on you as Shoupe called you in. You wouldn’t even look at him, and JJ hated it, fingers twitching as the smell of you filled his nose as you got up. He sat where you had sat, eyes on you through the office window, wondering what you were saying to Shoupe. He felt his heart skip a beat when Shoupe glanced at him, and after a while, Shoupe glanced at him again, lips moving.

JJ blinked when he watched you shake your head. He watched the older man heave a sigh, shoulders moving, and he said something else to you, reaching for you. He couldn’t see your face, but he saw your shoulders shaking, and you shook your head again, standing. When Shoupe stood too, making his way to his door, he opened it and told JJ he was free to go.

There was a look on the older man’s face that had JJ clenching his jaw. JJ glanced at you before standing with a nod and making his way outside. He had no intention of going anywhere, not until he talked to you, and that was why he waited. JJ waited all of thirteen minutes before you finally came out too. With one look at him, all the color drained from your face.

“Y/N-.”

“I want nothing to do with you,” you choked out, hurrying past him, but he followed.

“What did you tell Shoupe?”

“Of course, that’s what you’re concerned about,” you spat, spinning around and tearfully glaring at him. “Whether I told him that you raped me twice…”

JJ really hated that word.

“Whether I’m pressing charges.”

You looked at JJ like you were completely disgusted by him.

“I told him I’m not pressing charges, so it doesn’t matter what you did,” you whispered, and JJ’s shoulders dropped. “It’s not going to change anything. Kie is still in the hospital, Rafe is still going to jail, and it’s not like I can afford lawyers, anyway.”

JJ said your name, and you stumbled back.

“I just want you to stay away from me.”

JJ’s heart skipped a beat at that, and he watched you take a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Do you hear me? I never want to see you again. You ruined…everything,” you struggled to get out, voice shaky. “If I was stronger…I would hang you out to dry.”

JJ swiped his tongue between his lips.

“I wouldn’t rest until you paid for what you did to me, but I’m not,” you cried, shaking your head. “I’m just so tired and hurt, and I want nothing to do with you.”

You turned away, and JJ was so tempted to run after you. He was so tempted to drag you back and shake you until you saw that this was all Rafe’s fault, and not his, but then he remembered where he was. The police station was right behind him, and considering what you’d told Shoupe, he wasn’t surprised to look over his shoulder and find the Sheriff intently watching him.

With a sigh, he decided to make his way to the hospital.

“How is she?”

That was the first thing he wondered when he found them in the lobby. They were all quiet at first, eyeing him with varying expressions before Pope finally spoke up, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“She’s in surgery,” he said. “Her parents are up there with her.”

JJ nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. The air was so tense, and if he wanted to ignore the giant elephant in the room, he couldn’t with Sarah staring him down and all. When he started to sit, that was when John B. stood, quickly approaching him.

“We need to talk.”

JJ’s jaw clenched at that, and his eyes passed over all of them. Sarah looked completely freaked by him, glaring at him with wide eyes and looking like she’d rather see him dead. Pope’s face was taut, a deep frown between his brows as he just studied JJ, a thoughtful expression there.

“About what?”

John B. huffed, running his hand through his hair and fixing JJ with a look.

“You know what.”

JJ, choosing to play dumb, shrugged, and John B. let out a humorless scoff.

“About what Rafe said, man.”

At John B.’s words, the air grew even more tense, and now it was JJ’s turn to scoff.

“…and you believe him?”

“Well, the guy wouldn’t just come blazing into my yard waving a gun around for nothing, would he?”

“Wouldn’t he? It’s Rafe, man!”

John B. just stared at him, and JJ swallowed as he faced the possibility that he was about to lose all of his friends, his best friend included. John B. eventually sighed.

“Rafe wouldn’t lie about something like that-.”

“…and since when have we listened to a word that came out of his mouth?”

JJ could feel himself getting frustrated.

“Since he said you raped Y/N!”

They all looked around as John B.’s voice rose, thankful no one else was close enough to hear. JJ’s eyes met Sarah’s again, and she wouldn’t stop glaring at him. JJ shook his head, glancing away.

“Fine. You want the truth?”

“Yeah, I want the truth,” the brunette bit out.

“We had sex!”

Both Sarah and Pope shifted at that, and he could feel their eyes on him. John B. narrowed his eyes, studying JJ’s gaze.

“We hooked up, and clearly Rafe found out, and is telling himself what he wants to believe to feel better.”

JJ shrugged, and John B.’s face was unreadable.

“Is that how your face got all scratched up?”

Only silence followed, and John B. licked his lips.

“I want to talk to Y/N.”

“John B.,” JJ sighed, and the other guy held a hand up, shaking his head at JJ.

“Mm mm. I want to talk to her, because you know something JJ? I don’t believe you,” he said, shaking his head again.

“John B.-.”

“I don’t believe you,” he slowly repeated. “I’ve watched you get more and more obsessed with her and Rafe every day-.”

“He’s not good enough-.”

“…and I thought it was concern, but then I find out it was nothing but jealousy. You haven’t been acting like the JJ I know for months.”

JJ was quiet.

“You’re my best friend, and I feel like I don’t even know you because when Rafe said what he said…there was a part of me…that was not shocked to hear that.”

They stared at one another.

“Isn’t that crazy? You’re my best friend, but when the guy I can’t stand most in this world said you raped Y/N, our friend, his girlfriend…something in me wasn’t even shocked,” he slowly repeated.

“So, you believe him over me?”

“I’m saying I want to talk to Y/N,” John B. repeated. “I don’t want to hear a word you have to say, I want to know what she has to say.”

JJ swallowed, looking between the three of them, and he could tell by their silence that they were all in agreement.

“She’s on her way…so you should probably go.”

JJ’s eyes widened at that.

“I can guarantee you Kie won’t want you here.”

He couldn’t deny how much that hurt, frown deepening.

“I’m serious, JJ. You should go before I do something I might regret, because if you’re still here when Y/N gets here, and she says Rafe is telling the truth…” John B. bit his lip, eyes hardening. “He and I are going to be staring at each other tomorrow morning.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, he and John B. simply staring at one another as the full weight of his words hung in the air. Reluctantly, the blond took a step back, forcing himself to leave the hospital.

When JJ’s phone was silent days later, it was easy to guess how your conversation with John B. had gone. No one cared to keep him updated on Kie, no one cared to reach out, and he knew then that you’d told them the truth. JJ knew that you were the only reason none of them had come pounding on his door, giving him a well-deserved ass beating. He winced at that thought, reaching up and touching his face from where Rafe had bruised it.

He didn’t know what was going on with Rafe either, but as much as they hated him, now, JJ was sure they would’ve told him if Kie hadn’t made it. Clearly, she had, and he knew that meant Rafe was facing up to two years in jail if JJ was lucky. However, Ward’s money would no doubt have a hand in that, and he knew that he wasn’t going to let his son stare down two years if he could help it.

JJ thought a lot about you and where you both ended up. All those months ago, when you’d told him that you were dating Rafe, he’d meant it when he said he would try. That wasn’t a lie. JJ had wanted to be happy for you so bad because seeing you happy had made him happy, but somewhere along the way, your happiness only made him upset when it wasn’t with him. Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen in love with you, and he’d only cared about wanting you for himself.

Somehow, he couldn’t stop thinking about your smile and your laugh and the way you smelled when you were getting out of the water. He’d found himself lying to you just to be near you, touching your hair when you didn’t notice, and deeply inhaling the scent of you every time you hugged. JJ wanted you, and watching you with Rafe had twisted him up inside more than he cared to admit.

…but Rafe would be out of the picture now.

It didn’t matter if it was two years or six months, that would be six months without Rafe around. JJ was sure that he could get you to see things his way, that in your grief, you’d realize that JJ was still here, and Rafe was not. Besides, the man had shot Kie. Even if it was an accident, that had to mean something to you, and JJ knew you weren’t just going to ignore that. You had to be so confused, right now, and JJ had to see you.

“She said she was going to the beach for a while,” your mom said.

He was standing at your door in the middle of the night, hands shoved into his pockets. It was a rare night in which your mom was home, looking after your dad after his work accident. You hadn’t been home as much, and JJ knew that was because of him, but with Rafe’s court date approaching and Kie in the hospital recovering, he knew this was where you’d fall back on.

Your mom suddenly studied him, a slight frown on her face.

“Everything okay with you two?”

He wasn’t shocked that you hadn’t told them what he did. JJ knew you well enough, and he knew that your fallout was something you wanted to deal with on your own. Your parents would never let it go, and you’d made it clear that you just wanted JJ and the whole mess behind you. Somehow, that hurt worse than if you’d been fighting him and trying to put him under the jail.

The dismissal was too much.

“Yeah,” he lied with a small smile. “It’s Rafe.”

She hummed, nodding at that.

“I did hear about that. I’ve always known him to be trouble,” she sighed. “If you see her, tell her she shouldn’t stay out too late.”

“I will.”

He didn’t take his bike to the beach, using the walk to really think. His friends hated him, and as much as that stung, he couldn’t really focus on that. He’d gotten Rafe away from you, and that was all he was able to focus on, the spot that was open for JJ, now. You just needed time…needed to see how much you meant to him, and JJ was going to show you that one way or another.

Your mom was right.

He’d walked on the beach for ten minutes when he saw you sitting near some rocks. It was late, and there wasn’t anyone else around, and he briefly thought about how dangerous that was. JJ thought about simply going home, telling himself that seeing you was enough, but he’d always been impulsive. It was something you had complimented him on once, but when it came to you, it wasn’t just about impulses.

It was like JJ became possessed.

He recalled John B.’s words, thinking that he’d been right. JJ hadn’t been obsessed with you and Rafe for months, he’d been obsessed with you. You were all that he could think about, and JJ went to sleep and woke up thinking of nothing but you. He just stared at you, frowning and drinking you in, wondering if it was inevitable that he ended up here.

You had to date some time, and while your first boyfriend being Rafe definitely made things messier, JJ was sure that any guy with you that wasn’t him would’ve sent him over the edge. JJ was sure that watching any guy kiss you would’ve made him sick. His stomach would’ve churned at any guy roaming his hands over you, but it hadn’t been just any guy. It had been Rafe…

…and the sight had literally driven him insane.

You hadn’t registered his footsteps until he was close enough, and when you looked up, your eyes were wide…panicked. You were frozen in disbelief for half a second before pushing yourself to your feet. Your lips parted, and JJ hated the way your eyes watered. It took you a few more seconds to reach for your phone, but JJ was faster, grabbing it and tossing it behind him.

“Y/N-.”

“I told you to stay away from me,” you choked out, pushing against his hold on your wrists. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He reached for your face, and you slapped him.

“Rafe is going to jail because of you!”

You sounded so hurt, so miserable, and he blinked, adjusting his jaw.

“Kie is going to be in the hospital for weeks,” you cried. “She has to do physical therapy-.”

“Rafe shot her! Not me,” he spat, upset with being blamed for his mistakes. “He’s going to jail because of him.”

“…and you might as well had put the gun in his hand,” you hissed, glaring at him, and pulling against his hands. “You raped me, and you expected him to do nothing.”

JJ flinched at that word, and you noticed, scoffing.

“It’s amazing,” you breathed. “You hate hearing it, but you had no problem doing it.”

You started crying, and JJ frowned.

“How could you do this to me?” you whispered. “I thought you were my friend.”

He whispered your name, pleading.

“I trusted you even when Rafe kept telling me I shouldn’t, and I wish I had listened to him,” you cried, trying to back away.

“You don’t understand,” JJ mumbled, reaching for your face again. “You don’t get what it was like to watch you with him when it should’ve been me.”

That seemed to make you angry, your face growing cold as his words hit you.

“Why? Why should it have been you? Why do you feel so entitled to me?”

Your words stumped him, and you continued.

“…because we were friends first? Because I meant something to you before I meant something to him? You were in my life long before he was so you got first dibs, right?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not like that-.”

“Yes, it is,” you screamed.

“I care about you more than he does,” JJ screamed back, and you looked so shocked. “I-.”

“You raped me,” you shakily cut him off, tears skipping down your face. “Nothing about that screams you care. I told you to stay away from me, and you can’t even do that-.”

“No, I can’t!”

His outburst had you stumbling back, and JJ followed.

“I can’t stay away from you.”

His voice was low, almost inaudible, but you heard him, and you took another step back, eyeing him. JJ was admitting that to himself in this moment, blue eyes drinking you in, the sound of ocean waves in his ears. He thought about that night, the night in which you had clung to him and moaned for him. He wanted that again so badly.

“I can’t,” he breathed. “Not now. Not when he’s finally gone.”

Your face fell at that, and you looked around, seeming to just notice that you two were alone.

“Not when I finally have you to myself…”

He could see your shoulders heaving, breathing picking up as your feet picked up the pace, backing away.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes,” JJ shakily said. “I can show you how happy you could be with me.”

You froze at that, looking at JJ like he’d sprouted two heads.

“I can show you that Rafe isn’t your only option, and…and when he gets out…you won’t even care about him.”

When you turned around, JJ’s hand caught your shirt, the fabric ripping and making you jerk. It took nothing to yank you against him, hands grasping your face and pressing his lips to yours. Your noise of protest went in one ear and fell out of the other, and JJ hummed against your mouth. In your desperation to rip yourself away from him, you tilted back, and JJ was still holding you.

JJ fell against you, both of you landing in the sand, and you pushed and kicked at him. It felt easier to get you onto your back this time, JJ noted, and he didn’t know if that had more to do with him or with you. You seemed so…defeated as you fought back, desperately trying to get JJ off of you, but JJ wasn’t wasting this opportunity.

His eyes took in the shirt you were wearing, noting that it was Rafe’s, and disgust filled him, wanting it off of you. You shook beneath him as he removed it, and he covered your body with his own, desperate to feel you beneath him and also warm you up. He swallowed your cries, kissing you again, and one hand held you down while the other reached behind his neck.

He shuddered when your bare chests pressed against each other, JJ settling between your legs despite your best efforts to keep him away. He couldn’t stop kissing you, touching you, so eager to be inside of you again. Nothing at all like the last time, no. He didn’t want this to be out of anger and disgust, and he definitely didn’t want to hurt you again.

He could hear you crying harder when he pulled at his pants, your own following close behind. He was so hard he could hardly think straight, and you gasped into his mouth when his hand found it’s way between your legs. You fluttered around his fingers, and he grinned into the kiss, dipping them into you and massaging your walls. Your nails scratched at his arm, and JJ hissed.

When he finally sank into you, satisfied at the wetness he felt there and pushing his cock into you almost torturously slow, he thought to himself that it was worth it. He didn’t care that John B. and Pope and Sarah hated him. He didn’t care that they would probably never speak to him again. It didn’t matter that your friendship was nonexistent, the relationship between you two nothing at all like what it used to be. He didn’t even care that Kie was in the hospital, his involvement in what happened to her something he didn’t want to think about.

Because it was all worth it.

As he thrust into you, pressing his face in the crook of your neck and hearing the way your breath hitched, it was worth it. You were so tight around him, squeezing his cock, and JJ’s eyes rolled at the feel. Your heart was racing in your chest, in time with his, and JJ grabbed your hands, forcing them into his as he clasped your fingers together.

Your face was twisted when he lifted his head, pinning your hands down into the sand on either side of your head. It was reminiscent of that night, only he could see you now. He could look into your eyes and drink in the way your lashes fluttered and linger his gaze on how your lips parted. JJ’s eyes lowered, and he stared at your heaving chest, brows drawing together some as he dipped his head and wrapped his lips around a pebbled bud.

His hips curved into yours, pushing his cock into you and listening to your breathing. You were still crying, tears escaping your eyes and running past your ears into the sand. Your hands were tight on his, and you shook beneath him, but JJ was only focused on chasing both of your highs. You were so wet and so tight, clinging to his cock and attempting to pull him back in every time he pulled out.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered into your ear, and you turned your head away. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

When he looked at you, your eyes were squeezed shut.

“I can make you feel just as good as Rafe did…”

His use of past tense had you crying out again, a sob in your throat, and JJ pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You can be just as happy with me. I can make you forget all about him.”

JJ rutted into you, his cock plunging into you, the ocean waves drowning out the sound of skin slapping against skin. The breeze kept you both cool, but even so, a thin sheen of sweat made your skin glisten under the moonlight. One of JJ’s hands tangled in your hair, pulling and making you wince.

Your hand grabbed his arm, nails pressing into his skin and scratching. JJ could feel you drawing blood, and he only groaned at the feel, desperate to come inside of you before the night was over. You were still crying, but there was a determination in him to hear you moan, to hear you cry out for him like you had before. You were dripping around him, legs trembling, and as he pressed his lips to yours again, the kiss salty from your tears, he knew it was only a matter of time.

[obxthornton]

Loss - John b X Sister

WC: 628

I bit my fingernails nervously tears already streaming down my face as Pope rubbed circles on my back. I hated the plan, to begin with. We 4 were all sitting down in a tent waiting for the deputy to come back and just tell us they found him. That's he's okay.

I loved my brother. I know he didn't kill the sheriff and he knows that too so I don't know why he has to run.

The deputy walked in and pushed his hood off his head and we stood up. "Did you find them?" Pope asked.

"No." He said looking at us with sad eyes.

"No? What do you mean no?" I cried starting to luge forward but JJ pulled me back.

"So they got away?" Kie asked. I knew that's not what he meant.

"We uh, lost them." He said, "I'm sorry." My teeth gritted so hard. "Isn't that your job? You can't even do your job right?" I yelled at them trying to tear them away from JJ's arms.

"You lost them?" Pope said looking in utter disgust. "What do you mean you lost them, like like they're gone? What are you talking about."

"They took an open boat into a tropical depression Pope." He said looking at the teens sadly.

"So they're dead?" Kie asked. My knees buckled at those words and JJ caught me and held me up. The whole world was dizzy.

"We don't know."

"You drove them straight threw the storm man! Are you kidding me? Come here!" JJ yelled pushing the deputy. 

"I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you, you bastard!" He yelled as the other deputy tried to break him off of him. "JJ stop!" Kie yelled.

But it was all cloudy now.

"He didn't kill anyone and you know that!" Pope yelled.

"We're still looking for him alright?"

My body couldn't react for some reason to how JJ, Pope, and Kies were. They sobbed into each other's shirts and I Just stood there.

"Y/n do you need something?" Shoupe asked me. I opened up my mouth to talk but nothing came out. I shook my head instead.

"Y/n/n." JJ said standing infront of you, him crying himself. "I think I need to sit now," I mumbled falling back into a chair and looking up at the tarp ceiling.

"Y/n." Kie cried looking at me and grabbing my hands. "I don't know why we're all sad," I mumbled. "He's not dead." Kie looked at me sorrowfully and looked up at the boys.

Soon the parents of Kie and Pope came in and hugged their children. Telling them it was going to be okay. JJ and I just looked at each other awkwardly. Reality never set in completely.

"Y/n." Kiera's mom said sitting next to me. "Are you okay?" She's asked me. Stupid question for the time being if you asked me.

"Yeah," I said. She looked at me sadly, tears on her own face. "You don't have to be strong." She said. I nodded. "There's nothing to be sad over he's not dead!" I yelled standing up. "Just like dad He's not dead."

My friends and parents and friends looked at me like I was a loose cannon. "He's going to pull a Houdini right JJ?" I laughed dryly at the comment, referring to what JJ had said previously in the day.

"Y/n." Kie said sadly. "No! What's it with all the y/n? I'm fine!" 

Kie pulled me into a hug and I sobbed in her neck. "I lost all my family kie." I sobbed grabbing her hard to bring her closer. "I know." She mumbled.

Eventually, pope and JJ joined in and all just cried.

Cried for the loss of a friend and a brother.

[dlwritings]

Dial Drunk | Rafe Cameron

masterlist found here

pairing - Rafe x reader word count - 2,234 warnings - swearing, drunk driving A/N - inspired by Noah Kahan's song "Dial Drunk"

summary - Rafe gets himself into trouble yet again, and the only person he can think to save him is you. But you're over now, so what's he supposed to do? Simple. Call you anyway.

Rafe shouldn't have been driving, and in the back of his head, he knew that. The issue was caring. Something he didn’t do at all. Not since you left him.

Left him was putting it kindly. You grabbed his heart, ripped it out of his chest, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it until all that was left was a pile of pink and red mush and pieces of you -the only thing he had actually cared about. Naturally, he fought the break up tooth and nail. Granted, he didn’t behave in the most rational way. He shouted and yelled until he was red in the face, and he got closer to you than he should’ve, but he never laid a hand on you. He would never do that, and you knew that, which was why you didn’t flinch, even when his face was inches from yours.

That fight was what Rafe was thinking about only a week later as he was cruising down a side street at 70 miles an hour, drunk off his ass. He swore to himself as the sky behind him lit up blue and red, and for a second, he considered drawing out a car chase, but a voice in his head told him that that would be too idiotic, even for him.

That voice, he realized, sounded an awful lot like you.

When Deputy Shoupe approached his window, even he knew he was being too much of an asshole -definitely pushing his luck. “Son, why don’t you step out of the car for me?”

“Son, why don’t you kiss my ass?”

“Rafe, get out of the car,” Shoupe said with a roll of his eyes.

“Shoupe, go to hell.”

With an annoyed sigh, Shoupe reached through the open window, unlocked the car, and pulled the door handle, yanking Rafe out by the bicep. “Have you been drinking tonight, Rafe?” he asked, flashing a light in Rafe’s eyes, causing him to squint and turn his head.

“I don’t know, Shoupey-doupe, what do you think?”

Shoupe sighed and grabbed Rafe by the arm again, turning him around so he was pressed to his car, then got his cuffs out of his back pocket. “Dammit, Rafe,” he muttered. He threw him in the back of the car, then got in the front and headed to the station. Rafe sat silently with his head against the window, a small pout on his face. Shoupe eyed him in the rearview mirror, then sighed. “Who’d you like to call at the station?” he asked.

Rafe shrugged and stayed quiet.

“C’mon, kid,” Shoupe pushed. “You get one phone call. You’re telling me no one’ll post your bail?” Rafe still said nothing, leaving Shoupe to sigh again and stare back out at the road in front of him.

“(Y/N).”

Shoupe glanced in the mirror then out the windshield again. “What was that?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Rafe repeated. “I’ll call her.”

Shoupe knew you. Everyone knew you. You were one of those rare, special Kooks who was nice to everyone. Kook, Pogue, Touron, it didn’t matter. People were people in your eyes, no matter where they came from. Everyone supposed that was how you could come to date Rafe. You didn’t judge him for who he was. You loved him for who he was trying to become.

Until, of course, you didn’t.

When they pulled up to the station, Shoupe led Rafe to a phone where he could call you. Luckily, he had your number memorized -something you had once insisted on him doing in case he got himself into situations just like this one. Shoupe stood by Rafe’s side, supervising the call with his arms folded across his chest.

The line rang several times, and for a moment, Rafe feared you wouldn’t pick up at all. It was the middle of the night, after all. You were probably sleeping. But then, he heard your voice.

“Hello?” You sounded groggy, and he immediately felt a twinge of guilt. For everything.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s-” He cleared his throat. “It’s me.”

“Rafe?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Where, where are you calling me from?”

He cleared his throat again, his eyes squeezing shut. “The police station.” He was met with silence on the other end until you finally sighed.

“I told you not to call me anymore, Rafe,” you said.

“I know, baby, I know, I just-”

“Don’t call me that.”

He winced and put his forehead in his hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), but please, I didn’t know who else-” Before he could say anything else, he was met with the dial tone. He felt a lump start to rise in his throat. “He- Hello? (Y/N)?”

Nothing.

He looked up at Shoupe with pleading eyes, and Shoupe stared down at him. If Rafe had been more sober, he would’ve taken note of the pity in the officer’s expression. “Please,” Rafe said. “Just let me call her back. I know she’ll pick up.” Shoupe could see the chaos behind Rafe’s eyes. It was a look he knew all too well. The kid was about to spiral. Shoupe sighed and pulled up a chair, dragging it in front of Rafe so he could sit.

“Son,” he said gently, “are you a danger to yourself?”

Rafe furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Fuck that,” he said aggressively. “Just let me call her. I’ll, we can do a breathalyzer, I’ll, I’ll sit in a cell, I’ll fucking kiss your badge. Just let me call her.”

Shoupe sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Why do you do this to yourself, kid?”

Rafe knew he wasn’t getting another phone call.

He dropped his face to his hands and sighed, feeling tears coming to his eyes. Shoupe stood up, pushed his chair back where he found it, and took a hold of Rafe’s bicep. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get you to a cell.”

“I’m not a bad guy anymore, Shoupe,” Rafe said, his voice weak and desperate as he followed the sheriff. “I’m not proud of the shit I’ve done. I’ve changed.”

“I know, kid,” he said. “It’s just for the night.”

“But why doesn’t she know that?”

Shoupe gave Rafe a sympathetic smile as he slid the cell gate closed. “Get some sleep, alright?” he said. “Things’ll be better in the morning.”

Rafe sure hoped he was right.

-

Rafe was awoken the next morning by the sound of metal bars sliding open. He sat up, blinking against the daylight, and looked at Shoupe. “Your bail got posted,” he said. “Let’s go.” Rafe stood up, his head pounding from the hangover, and followed Shoupe out of the cell.

“Who posted-”

He cut himself off when he saw you standing at the front desk, his belongings in your hands. You looked tired and anxious, eyes darting around uncomfortably. He hated that he was the cause of your anxiety. All he wanted to do was hug you, but he knew better.

When you saw him, your shoulders dropped a little with the relief of seeing a person you knew, even despite the situation. “Hey,” you said once he was in front of you.

“Hey,” he said back. “Thanks for-”

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting him off and handing him his things -wallet, keys, and jacket. “I’ll give you a ride to your truck.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Who else is gonna do it, Rafe?” you asked. You didn’t sound annoyed or angry. You sounded tired. Defeated. And he hated that. So, he just nodded and followed you out of the station and to your car. “Where’d you get pulled over?” you asked, starting the engine to your vehicle. Rafe spewed out the location, so you headed in that direction, letting the car fill with an uncomfortable silence.

Rafe could only take it for a few minutes.

“I know what I promised you,” he said softly. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened and your jaw clenched, but you didn’t look at him or acknowledge him in any other way. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“Who else was gonna post your bail?” you asked with a scoff.

“I’ll pay you back," he said without hesitation.

“That’s not important,” you said.

“It's important to me.”

You pulled up behind his truck and parked the car, but Rafe made no effort to get out. You could predict what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth. “I don’t want to do this, Rafe,” you whispered. “I can’t do this.”

“You think I can?” he asked, his own voice breaking. “Baby, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. “Please, please don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not your baby anymore, Rafe!” you shouted. “And when you call me that, I want to forget all the reasons I broke up with you and pick up where we left off, but I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because you haven’t changed,” you said, finally willing yourself to look up at him. He looked exhausted, and you didn’t know if that was due to a night in a jail cell or a routine of sleepless nights. “Rafe, you are still the exact same boy who broke my heart a week ago.”

“Broke your heart?” he repeated. “I think you’re misremembering how that fight went down, (Y/N).”

“I remember that night fine,” you countered. “Do you?”

-

It was your birthday, and Rafe had promised you something special. Something so special that he didn’t want you to plan anything else. He said he would be out for most of the day with Barry, but when he came home, you were going to have the best birthday ever.

But then, the night came, the night went, and Rafe never showed. At least, not until 2:00 in the morning, high out of his mind. He crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck until you stirred. “Did I wake you, baby?” he asked. You pushed him away which made him whine. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” you snapped. “Rafe, do you even remember what today is?” He rattled off the date, and only once the number passed his lips did realization cross his features.

”Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Shit.”

“I had some business to take care of with Barry, and then-”

“Save it,” you said. “I know how things go when you have ‘business’ with Barry. I don’t know why I expected something different today.’”

“That’s not fair,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” you said, turning to face him. “It’s always the same shit with you, Rafe. Drugs and business and tossing me to the side because you know I’ll still be here when you decide I’m worth your time again.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is,” you said, pushing yourself out of bed. “It is, and I’m tired of it.”

“Oh, you’re tired of it?” he said, standing up as well. “So what?”

“So, I’m done,” you said. “I’m done letting you string me along like this.”

“I’m not stringing you along, (Y/N)!” he said, putting his hands on his head. “I love you!”

“Hell,” you scoffed. “If this is how you treat people you love, it’s no wonder you’ve tried to kill so many people you hate.”

“Fuck you!” he said, pointing a finger at you in anger.

“No, fuck you Rafe!” you shouted back. “I’m-” You let out a bitter laugh as a few tears spilled down your cheeks. “I’m tired. Go home.”

“No, I’m not done talking about this.”

“Well I am,” you said. “And this is my house, so get the fuck out. Don't call me. And promise me you won't come back."

He scoffed. "I'll do you one better. I promise to forget about you altogether."

-

“Well I guess we broke each other's hearts,” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess we did.”

You were both quiet again until Rafe finally sighed. “(Y/N), I’m sorry for forgetting your birthday.” You looked up at him, saw the sincerity in his eyes, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s why I was upset, Rafe?” you said. “Because you forgot my fucking birthday?” Before he could speak, you continued. “It’s because I’m always going to come in second with you. You’re never going to put me above your stupid fucking drugs and the idiotic life choices you keep choosing to make. And I tried so hard to be patient and understanding, but you won’t stop because you don’t want to stop, and I know that now.”

“I want you,” he said, turning his body to face you. “Isn’t that enough?”

You shook your head. “No. It’s not. Not when I care about you more than you care about yourself.”

Rafe opened his mouth like he was going to say something only to close it again. You clicked the button to unlock your car door, signaling that the conversation was done. With a clenched jaw, Rafe nodded and got out of the car. Before he could close the door, you spoke again.

“It’s not fair, you know,” you said.

“What’s not fair?” he asked.

You gave him a sad smile. “I’ll always come when you call,” you said as a single tear fell down your cheek. “I just hope, someday, I stop having to.”

---- ---- ---- ----

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[alimaybankkk]

dear life

summary: your brother and best friend are presumed dead, and now you have no one. well, maybe you do.

warnings: angst mega angst sobbing bawling ripping hair out angst.

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

“we… we lost them,” you heard shoupe say from your dazed state. you looked up as he stared at you and your friends. “i’m sorry.”

pope took a breath from beside you. “you lost them? what do you mean you lost them? like-like they’re gone? what are you talking about?”

shoupe sighed. “they took an open boat into a tropical depression, pope.”

“so they’re dead?” kie asked, tears filling her eyes.

shoupe looked at you, finally. john b’s little sister. the one he knew would defend his innocence with her life. “we don’t know.”

your heart fell to your feet and you almost tipped over. everyone’s voices were now a ringing in your ears, one that you wanted to cancel out.

you put your hand to your heart as your breaths grew heavier, something jj had taught you a while back. you tried to balance yourself, but you had to step away, pacing as tears fell down your cheeks.

“you drove them straight through the storm, man!” you heard jj say, motioning with his hands somewhere.

jj watched you walk away for a moment and everything snapped inside of him, grabbing shoupe’s chest. “are you kidding me? come here man, i’m gonna kill you!”

“jj, get off!” kiara called from behind you.

jj was detached from the deputy by thomas. he swung his arms, trying to get through his hold. “no, no!” and he broke through, shoving shoupe over and over again. “i’m gonna kill you! i’m going to kill you! don’t, don’t! get off!”

“he didn’t kill peterkin, you know!” pope cried, widening his eyes and silently begging shoupe for something.

“they’re still looking for him, alright?” shoupe calmly answered.

pope swung his neck back, grabbing a hold of his head. this is when tears hit is cheeks and kiara grabbed his arm gently. “pope… pope just relax.”

your chest heaved up and down as you stepped out into the rain, away from the protection of the tent. your tears were salty, mixing in with the pouring rain as you fell to your knees.

from your left you watched kiara’s parents rush in, and you walked back inside the tent to watch her hug them.

the same thing happened with pope’s parents as pope cried, “i’m so sorry.” over and over again.

but jj stood there and took off his hat aggressively and stared at the ground. you could tell by the way he looked at everyone else that he wanted someone to hold onto. hell, maybe he’d even hug his dad right now.

you walked slowly over to him, feeling the same way he did.

you first lost your mother as soon as you were born. then you lost your father a few months ago. and now, you lost your brother.

he had been all you had left, and now he was gone.

jj looked up at you with an open mouth and eyes full of tears and finally rushed to you and pulled you in for a hug. you sobbed into each other’s shoulders, whispering to each other.

“he… he didn’t do anything,” you cried, gripping jj’s neck harder.

he cried into your shoulder for a little bit before saying, “it’s not fair. they killed him!”

“and… and sarah,” you pulled away from the hug, looking into jj’s eyes. “she didn’t do anything. nothing at all. they didn’t do anything! they’re fucking innocent!”

jj pulled you back into the hug, gripping your shirt for dear life. you stayed with your arms wrapped around his neck for five minutes until you hugged kie and pope.

you sat on the porch of the chateau a week later, caressing the stone in your hand.

it was john b’s; a little project your father had you do with each other when you were little. you’d written dove, your dad’s nickname for you, and jb had written bird.

the sun shining brightly through the windows of the porch would usually be your invitation to hop on the boat or sit on the swing outside and play the ukulele or read a book, but today it was the reminder of not to do those things.

since john b’s death, you hadn’t let yourself smile or have fun or enjoy yourself. you’ve spent the whole week mourning your brother, reminiscing with old things that reminded you of him. for example, this rock.

every day you’d waken up and walked into john b’s room and pulled a shirt out of his closet, sniffing it before putting it on. jj had basically moved in, not wanting to go home and deal with his dad right now.

he was great company, actually. he would sit with you in silence and maybe hug you randomly. he would trace his hand on your thigh and tell you john b was a great person and didn’t deserve what he got.

your other friends had mostly kept to themselves, putting their brains to work to keep them from thinking about john b. pope was making deliveries daily now, and kiara was serving as a full time waitress at the wreck.

but today they all came to the chateau and stood outside, looking at you through the broken and rusty windows. kiara sighed. “she still hasn’t made any progress?”

jj shrugged. “have you gotten over john b yet? i mean, give her a break, man! that was her brother!”

kiara flinched. “okay, jeez, i’m sorry… i just.. thought she would want to come out for this.”

jj considered it and sighed. “i’ll go talk to her.”

pope and kie nodded as they watched jj disappear into the porch.

“hey,” he said, sitting next to you. “what is that?”

you dropped it and flinched as it made a clatter on the floor. “it’s just a dumbass rock.”

jj sighed. “i’m sure it’s not just a rock. what’s it say?”

you looked at him angrily, taking deep breaths. “jj, it’s just a rock. forget it.”

jj nodded and looked away. “do… um, did you.. did you want to come out with us and make that headstone or whatever?”

“what headstone?”

“we were… we were thinking about making john b a headstone. carve it into the tree. what do you think?”

you rolled your eyes and stood up off the couch. “i think it’s the dumbest idea i’ve ever heard.”

“i—come on. y/n, you know he’d love the headstone. come on, don’t you want to be a part of it?”

your head whipped around. “i don’t know, jj. but i do know that i still do not believe john b is dead. you can believe whatever you want, but i still have hope.”

jj took off his hat and sighed. “john b would love it. come on, baby.”

you looked at him in disgust at the nickname. “what?”

“y/n, we have to stick together… we both have no one. okay? so don’t just… stop.” jj cried.

you shook your head. “this isn’t about that, is it, jj?”

he looked down. “y/n… you know i love you. you’ve known forever.”

you blinked, no emotion in your face. “of course i have, j. but now is not the time. i—my brother just died. you have family, jj. whether you like it or not. i have no one.”

his eyes widened. “we—we’re your family, y/n!”

“you know what i mean.”

“yeah, i do, and i disagree.” he took a step closer to you. “blood doesn’t choose family. we do. i do.”

“jj, just go.” you cried, watching tears slip down his face. “please.”

“no, baby, please. i’m not leaving. i’m not leaving you; i would never leave you.”

you shoved his chest. “damnit, jj, leave! stop! i would never do that to my brother!”

“your brother is gone!” he yelled finally.

you blinked. “jj. get the fuck out of my house right now.”

he took a step back. “no… baby, please, ‘m sorry, i didn’t mean it.”

“go!” you yelled, sobbing. “and stop calling me that.”

“why won’t you just hold me again? i can’t go back to my dad. please, please… please.”

“jj, right now.”

he listened, i guess.

the chateau was quiet and you were sitting on john b’s bed, where you had slept for the past week. his pillows still smelt like him.

you felt guilty for your outburst with jj, but living in denial was a scary thing. it made you do things you wished you wouldn’t, like going into jj’s room and laying in his bed instead.

the sheets were still messy and imprinted like he was just here, which he was. he still had it arranged in the way he slept. it was unusual, but it was cute. he surrounded himself with pillows and stacked the bottom two, draping a blanket over himself. if you weren’t lying, it was comfortable.

you lay there in silence, breathing and syncing your breaths with the waves of the nearby water. you were startled upwards when you heard your phone ringing from beside you.

it was jj. you thought about hanging up, but something told you it wasn’t good. you answered, holding it up to your ear and waiting for him to talk.

“y/n?” he said. he was gasping for breath and you heard sobs. “i… i need you to come and get me. i’m at my house.”

you scoffed. “jj, after what you said to me, i don’t think you deserve a favor right now.”

“please,” he said quickly. “it’s my dad.”

you sighed. “okay. i’m on my way.”

you got up from the bed and threw on a random shirt you found laying on the floor and grabbed the keys to the twinkie.

shoupe had let you keep it as he knew you were close with your brother. he knew it was something you would want, and shoupe liked you, so he let you have it.

you drove full speed to jj’s, cursing but running every red light.

once you got there, you saw jj clinging onto his bike he couldn’t even mount. his short clang body was covered in gashes and bruises and you winced and looked away.

you ran up to him, helping him stand. he could hardly walk or move, but you managed to get him into the car. “what… j, i’m so sorry. damnit, this is my fault.”

“not your fault, sweet girl. just drive, take me home.”

your heart dropped to your feet when he called the chateau his home, one that you forced him out of.

you drove in silence until eventually, he broke it and said, “is that my shirt?”

“i…”

“why are you wearing my shirt?” he asked. if you didn’t know what happened to him, you would have thought he was drunk.

“i don’t know. i was in your room, and then you called and…”

“what were you doing in my room?”

you sighed. “i was laying in your bed.”

“why?”

“damnit, jj, i don’t know, okay?” you yelled, causing him to flinch. he took his hands and pressed them to his head and tears filled your eyes. “i’m… i’m sorry, j.”

he just looked away and out of the window.

my poor baby, you thought. mentally, you pinched yourself for thinking that. he was not your baby.

you instructed jj to sit on the bathroom sink. he obliged, wincing as his back hit the cold of the mirror.

“shit, j, he get your back, too?” you asked, caressing the sounds on his stomach.

“a lil. it’s ‘kay, though, i’ll just sleep it off,” he said.

you shook your head. “don’t think so. sit back down, i’ll take care of you.”

he sighed and sat back on the counter as you pulled open the drawer below him. you pulled out a spray and sprayed it over the wounds, disinfecting them one by one.

“he beat me up, and you know why?” he said randomly. you stayed quiet as he continued, “cause i came home and told him about a girl. a girl i wanted so bad, and he beat me up for getting rejected.”

you took a deep breath and wiped the wound with a paper towel before continuing to clean it.

you closed the door of kiara’s car, watching as her and pope walked separately. she grabbed his hand at last and looked him deep into his eyes. “we have to stick together, okay?”

pope nodded and whispered somegjjng incoherent before continuing to walk.

jj looked at you and grabbed your hand. “us, too.”

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t let go. in fact, you held his hand tighter.

there, at the front of the school was a mock shrine for john b. it looked like it meant well, but it really felt different.

“i feel like… people are staring at us,” you said, looking around.

“definitely,” jj responded.

“let’s just go, guys,” kiara said and stormed into the building.

* the day went by pretty quickly, and before you knew it, it was mr. sunn’s class. of course, you weren’t paying attention, but you would rather be here than spending the day thinking about your brother.

you did that anyway.

at times where you were paying attention, though, you noticed mr. sunn had already started a lesson on the first day. and assigned homework.

twenty minutes into class, you and your friends’ phone rang. you paused, not looking at it until mr. sunn had finished his interrogation about “who’s phone was that?”

when you opened the text all together, your heart dropped.

(a/n: HAHAHAHHA THIS IS SO FUNNY SORRY)

you didn’t waste a second before running out of the classroom, jj following after. moments later, all of you were running outside. (jj tripped)

you made it outside and immediately texted back, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“hey,” pope shrieked. “what’s that for?”

“they’re impersonating my brother. what is wrong with them? that’s not okay.”

“it could be them,” jj said hopefully.

kie agreed. “i’m just gonna ask.”

kiaraa:

WTF is this you??

Unknown:

Is JJ there?

jj <3

i’m here bree.

the bubble thought, and then read,

Unknown:

did you pimp my short board?

jj laughed, and soon, everyone was giggling. you were dizzy and you had no clue what to do.

“it’s him.” you heard from around you.

you stood and wobbled a bit. the world was spinning.

your brother was alive.

everyone embraced each other into tight hugs, and you let yourself hug them, too. jj laughed and turned to you. “you were right.”

you sat at home, thinking of ways to get to charleston. jj had been chatting your ear off excitedly since the two of you got home, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this flipped the switch inside him.

“y/n,” he said loudly. you looked up at him.

“i’m listening.”

“no…. not that. now that we know your brother is alive, can we talk about it?”

you took a deep breath. “about what?”

“us.”

you sank back into the seat hesitantly. “talk away, j.”

he prepared himself and straightened up, grabbing your chin with his pointer finger and turning it so you were looking at him. “y/n, i’ve been in love with you ever since i laid eyes on you. when your brother introduced you to me when you were 6, i loved you. i was 7 and i still knew what love was, because you showed me. i… i don’t know what i would have done without you. i had no one, my whole life, but my family. but you. i love you.”

“jj…” you sighed, tears filling your eyes as you brushed the hair away from his face. “we can’t.”

“why not?”

“because, j, my brother.” you started. “how do you think he would feel if he found out his sister and his best friend thought he was dead so they started dating?”

“i think he’d understand once i talk to him,” he said, tracing circles with his thumbs on your cheeks. “i’d tell him i would never hurt you and that… i don’t know. you’re different. you’re special.”

you giggled. “if you say needs right now, i will tackle you.”

“…needs.” he chuckles as you pulled a pillow from the couch and jumped on top of him, hitting him over and over again with it. you held it to his mouth for three seconds before letting go of him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, finally, and looked you in your eyes. he crashed into your lips with a kiss, immediately softening and turned it into a passionate one. you kissed him back, arms wrapping around his neck and trying to keep the kiss as neat as possible.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for almost ten years,” he said before pulling you in for another one.

a/n: idk how i feel ab this tbh but anyways lmk if u want a part two of them seeing jb and sarah in charleston