#jiara au

[hepaidattention]

wait but like an AU where JJs mom never died and he grew up a Kook, friends with the Cameron's, and always wishing he was friends with those Pogues always running around????

we also could say instead of Luke taking him in, Shoupe did, and he grew up as the sheriffs son?????

and him and Kie like hate each other as like Kook rivals?????? because Kie always wants to hang out with the pogues and he doesn't get it???? but secretly he DOES???? but it worries him because they're always getting themselves in trouble

and then one day he gets mixed up with a Kook and Pogue fight but Kie gets dragged into it and tries to stop JJ from beating up John B, and he listens to her because it's Kie.

but Rafe tries to punch John B and Kie gets caught in the cross fire and then JJ gets defensive over Kie, and starts fighting RAFE for JB????

and then John B, Pope, and Kie all thank JJ and start treating him like they kinda like him - they give him a nickname and everything.

and then one day, Sarah's been sneaking around with John B, and JJ accidentally catches them macking at Midsummers???

and Sarah begs him not to tell Topper or Rafe, and he agrees. He likes Sarah, way more than he ever liked Rafe or Topper.

but because he knows their secret she starts trusting him to continue to keep her secrets, and somehow he gets pulled into stuff he didn't ask for.

and then one day he sees Kie and Pope out, so he comes to say hi only to overhear them talking about breaking in somewhere. he follows them, afraid Kies gonna get herself in trouble, only to hear them talk about gold.

and they almost get killed, so he jumps into stop Kie from getting hurt, and now he's apart of the secret too??????

and he didn't know when it happened but somehow he's helping the pogues find a hidden treasure and his new found family is a bunch of crazy pogues he'd do anything to protect????

I NEED this AU. need it.

[kiekiecarrera]

The bathroom is not big enough that he can stand without brushing her back, so he perches himself on the closed toilet seat instead. Watches her quietly, taking in the way she leans over the sink, cupping her hands to catch some water in her palms. He clears his throat for a moment, and when she doesn’t look at him, he brushes her elbow with his fingers, trying not to startle her. Offers her the cup when she meets his eyes through the mirror. She turns to take it, a small, grateful smile slipping on her face.

#jiaraweek2023

day 6: fic to gif → this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less by @kiekiecarrera

[homebody-nobody]

funny how true colors shine (in darkness and in secrecy)

Carrera and Maybank are her best agents. They’re both smart, creative, and driven. Carrera is clever and quick-thinking, and an excellent executor, and there’s no one quite like Maybank with a gun. Peterkin taps her pen on her desk, waiting for one of them to break. They will, of course. Peterkin is betting on Maybank. He’s twitching. He’s twitchy. But then, the muscle in Carrera’s jaw is doing an awful lot of jumping, too. “I’m not doing it with him.” “Literally anyone else.” -- Kie and JJ are fake married for undercover purposes, and hilarity (and also feelings) ensue.

read on ao3

(Happy Birthday, Belle!!)

[mellarkisa]

jiara movies x My Best Friend's Wedding

God, what the hell was she doing?

She fled from the lilac silk dress that was stinging her and Emily's romantic speeches, barely waiting to go back to the dressing room and start a call with Cleo, who didn't stop talking for a second.  Still in her bra and panties, she looked for her lighter to try to light a damn cigarette, but she couldn't find it in the middle of that mess. Fuck, she really needed a smoke.

"Fuck this!" she threw her purse on the couch.

"Kiara, are you listening to me?"  Cleo squeaked and Kiara balanced the phone against her shoulder and her face.

"No, Cleo, I'm kinda busy here."

"Sorry if I'm trying to be a good friend and help you think of some plan to crash your best friend's wedding, since you don't have any," she snapped wryly.

"Don't say 'crash my best friend's wedding', I feel like a movie villain like that."

"Well, I don't see what else to call it, Kie"

Well...

"I'm saving him from a terrible idea" she tried and heard Cleo chuckle on the other end.

"Yes, saving him to be with you" she pointed out.

Ok. Maybe her motives weren't entirely altruistic. But JJ wasn't thinking straight. Clearly. Marrying a kook he'd known for a year?  That didn't sound like him, that didn't sound like her Jayj.  But it was real and it was happening.

"Emily looks like a doll, Cleo! So dreamy and-" A brief knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Thinking it was the seamstress, Kiara urged her to come in, while she waited for her friend's answer.

"Calm down, girl…"

But it wasn't the seamstress. It was JJ. Clutching a bridesmaid dress in his arms, he seemed more surprised by her startled yell than by her lack of clothes. He chuckled as she tried futilely to cover herself with her arms. "Hi" she said uselessly.

"Do you want me to turn around or something?"  his smile widened as he leaned back in the doorway, his damn dimples showing as he looked way too comfortable with the situation.

Kiara searched for anything she could cover herself with, clumsily clinging to her coat and wrapping it around her body.

"You weren't the person I was expecting..."

He shrugged and twirled the end of the hanger in great amusement.

"I've seen you a lot more naked than that."

Kiara bit her lip, not at all surprised by the insinuation, resisting the urge to flirt. It was hard when he looked the same JJ as ever, who she knew would flirt back.

"Well… things are different now."

He nodded briefly and, for a moment, neither of them knew what to say.  Maybe she killed the moment, reminding him that they weren't as young, passionate, and free as they used to be.  A lot had changed.

"Yeah, I think they are."

He turned the end of the hanger again before placing her dress gently on the chair that stood there.  He looked nervous, the way he did when he tried to hide it, and there was a small satisfaction when Kiara realized that she could still read him well.  He backed to the door, and before leaving he gave her one of those mischievous smiles that told her everything was going to be okay.  JJ looked her up and down, not ashamed to drink in the sight of her half-naked body before leaving:

"You look really good... without your clothes on."

The door had barely closed before Kiara fell unceremoniously onto the couch, her legs too shaky to stand.  The intensity of his gaze, the familiarity with which he changed the energy of the room with a smile, or even his stupid bright blue eyes were too much for her.

A glimmer of hope began to glow deep inside her chest, and Kiara blindly reached for her phone lying on the couch, and by some miracle Cleo was still on the call.

"KIARA!"

"Cleo… I'm back in the game"

[notbadweird]

‪@jane_shows‬ MADE THIS AND POSTED IT ON TWITTER AND YOU GUYS OMFG ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

ITS FAKE BUT BEAUTIFUL

MADE ME HYPE FOR S4

[ktsaysthings]

the blue that lasts - chapter 4

In 1729, JJ is a pirate. 

It sounds worse than it is. It’s not theft—not really. More like redistribution.

He’s no Robin Hood. He takes from the rich and keeps for himself. Rum, money, rare and exotic gems—things he really has no use for.

Except for the rum. He does have use for the rum.

Maybe it is theft. Either way, he doesn’t feel bad about it. Even without the spoils of their looting and pillaging, he’d still be sailing. He’d still be searching.

JJ’s been searching his whole life. For purpose, for salvation. A way out. 

He found all three in the water. The sea provides a safety he never had at home. It keeps him warm and weightless and strong. It carries him, taking him places he never could have dreamed of, far out of the reach of his leech of a father, out of sight of the debtors and foes that are always on his tail.

He joined Cleo on The Phantom when he was freshly fifteen. The first year on the water nearly broke him, the sun harsh on his pale skin, the salt rough on his soft hands. He’d been delirious from dehydration, half-dead from hunger, and still more alive than he’d ever felt. The sea filled in the gaps, softened the edges of his broken pieces. It gave him something to fight for, something to stake his life on.

And yet, there was still something missing.

He finds her in a pub.

Read the rest on ao3.

[eemolu]

feels like a night to carry a tune

(track three: tide song)

JJ woke up at the insistent blare of his alarm, the scent of coconut shampoo lingering during the split second it took for him to figure out where he was: alone, hungover, in his ridiculously expensive house in Malibu. “Fuck,” he groaned, groping for his phone on the nightstand and managing to hit snooze without lifting his head from the pillow. He had dreamed about her again. Would he ever stop dreaming about her?  He’d tried everything to get her out of his head. He’d slept with girls on tour, and B-list actors, and girls in bars who had no clue who he was. He had tried to fall in love, more than once, and got dumped each time because flowers and sex weren’t enough, apparently. He had even (and still was) trying to date himself, or whatever Sarah called it when she gushed about how important it was to be comfortable being alone. The problem was that he dreamed about Kie no matter what he did. And he never, never told anyone about it.

(complete, 29,659 words)

read on ao3

[kierreras]

Hey , I love your Jiara AU so much ! it's so beautiful and their insta feeds are so soft Do you plan on adding fic to it or other parts ? And if yes, do you take requests for some stuff for that AU ? I have a few ideas I'd like to share if you don't mind

woooow, thank you so much, i'm so glad that you like my au i'm not planning to write a fic for it cause we have so many great surf trip fics now and i'm not going to bring anything new to that theme i'm definitely going to add new parts of that au and i have some social media posts done already, so need to do a few more things before posting new part. i don't think that there's going to be many parts of that au, but still if you have some ideas, you can always share them with me, i'd be glad to hear them. so don't be shy and hit me up

[hepaidattention]

if i loved hated you in another life | five

“No,” Kiara crossed her arms, her feet placed firmly in front of the entrance. 

JJ looked at her with a pathetic pout, “C'mon Carrera. There's nowhere else for me to sleep.” 

His backpack was swung over his shoulder, and a big blanket that definitely looked like it belonged to the Keets stayed bundled up in his arms. His hair was a mess like he had already been sleeping, which was ridiculous because it was 9 pm. 

“Actually, you do, it's called your own room.”

JJ's brow line raised up, “Would you want to be in there while they talked about their feelings?” 

Kiara realized that Sarah going to talk to John B meant the fact that John B shared his room with JJ, who now was moping outside hers.

“They kicked you out. didn't they?”

“Didn't even hesitate.”

“And you decided my room was the best option why ?”

She in all honesty didn't trust herself with JJ, alone in a room, after the stunt he pulled only an hour ago. She was afraid she'd lose all common sense again and kiss him, or even- no she could not let her mind go there. She would win this. She was strong, and JJ had no control over her.

“Technically, this is our room - I just let Sarah crash in it.” He was right, but Kiara wasn’t going to let him know that. He sighed, annoyed that he's had to stand there this long. “Sarah told me to crash here until they were through, alright?”

Kiara knew just as well as anyone that that door wasn't opening for the rest of the night. “I'm not sharing my bed with you, Maybank.”

“Okay, alright, see now that makes it easy. You can sleep on the floor.” She blinked at him, unamused. He didn't expect a laugh, but a smile would've been nice. “I'll sleep on the floor, Carrera. I don't care. I just want to sleep .”

OR JJ and Kiara have to share a lot more than just a weekend together.

Read chapter 5 on ao3 :)

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 9

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

A/N: Happy reading!!!!!

Isla touches up her lipstick under the bright lights of the bathroom, which smells like apples thanks to whatever air freshener is plugged in here. When she drops the lipstick in her purse, Isla sighs at her reflection, the frustration evident in her green eyes. She knows it’s only been a little over an hour since she and her family arrived at Midsummers, but it was an hour spent unable to get to Rafe, and the thought has her blowing a slow breath out of her nose.

Relax. You’re becoming desperate. When has she ever chased after a guy? It’s not in her nature, really, and she’s not sure why it’s becoming so prominent about Rafe Cameron, of all people. She tells herself that it’s guilt that’s driving her, feeling badly for assuming he was the one who had punched JJ because of how offended and hurt he had looked when it came up. Truthfully, Isla hadn’t expected Rafe to be hurt by it, not the way she had seen it reflected in his eyes, and she guesses maybe that’s why she’s so adamant on talking to him and properly apologizing to him.

And especially after that date. . . The way he set it up for them, cooking their meal—it was the sweetest thing any guy has ever done for her to show her their interest. Anyone she has been with before, whether it was a relationship or whatever, never put that kind of effort for her. And that. . . It meant a lot to her. Not to mention the fact that she really did have a good fucking time and, frankly, wished that he had kissed her. Or she should have kissed him.

They should have fucking kissed.

Isla blows out a breath, knowing she can’t change the past as she gives herself one last look over before walking to the door. She begins her walk down the hallway back to where the party is, hearing chatter and music in the distance, only to come to a sudden halt to avoid running into someone who turns the corner from a connecting hallway.

“Isla?” She freezes upon hearing her name from the familiar voice, taking in a deep, quiet breath when her gaze lifts and her eyes lock with her ex-boyfriend.

Of all the people to run into. . . 

She hadn’t once thought of running into Carlo at Midsummers, but that was also because she forgot that a few months ago, his mom got remarried and his step-dad is from the Kook side of Outer Banks, and while Carlo hadn’t changed schools and still went to the public school Isla and her friends go to instead of switching over to the Kook academy, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he and his family would come tonight. She had been lucky enough not to spot him—until now, as he stares at her in mild surprise, like he hadn’t expected to run into her, either.

“I was just heading back,” she says, moving to brush past him.

“Wait—” She is forced to stop when he suddenly appears in front of her. “We never got a chance to talk at Sarah’s party.”

Her patience is already wearing thin. “That’s because I made it clear I don’t want to talk to you,” she tells him, trying to keep her voice steady. Goddammit, why can’t he take the hint? What is there for him to say? To apologize for cheating on her? Beg for her forgiveness? She doesn’t care—not anymore, at least. Her annoyance builds, and Isla narrows her eyes and says, “Let’s get one thing clear, Carlo. I don’t owe you shit, alright? You fucked up. You threw our relationship out the window. So I’m well within my rights to tell you to go to hell and never have to speak to you again, because you don’t deserve it.”

Carlo’s jaw tightens, the vein in his temple beginning to protrude with every word Isla hits him with. But she simply keeps glaring at him, undeterred and sick of him trying to have a conversation with her that he thinks will change her opinion of him. “You never even gave me a chance to explain myself—”

“Explain yourself?” Isla repeats, eyebrows rising in disbelief at his audacity. “I’m sorry, I don’t need a step by step walk-through of how your dick ended up in some Jersey girl. It’s been a year since we broke up, Carlo. Move on. I sure as hell have.”

She sees the muscle in his jaw work, indignation firing up in his eyes. But right when Isla thinks he’s going to argue back, spew some bullshit, he surprises her by dipping his chin briefly in a nod. “Fine,” he says tightly. “You win. Won’t bother you again.”

Isla arches an eyebrow as she watches him turn and go, mildly surprised at how easily he gave in. But she doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it, because a new voice from behind her speaks up. “Are you always this brutal to guys who have a thing for you?”

Heart jumping, Isla spins around to see Rafe leaning against the wall on his side, watching her with an almost blank expression. Unable to help herself, Isla’s gaze dips, taking in the sight of him now that he’s this close after days of not seeing him, admiring the pristine press of his suit, his bangs framing his temples, and the family ring he wears on his pinky that gleams under the hallway lights.

When her gaze lifts to meet his, he arches an eyebrow, and instead of being embarrassed that he noticed her blatantly checking him out, she’s just relieved to see him—to have him talk to her. “Only the ones who deserve it,” she replies, her voice growing soft on its own. There’s about five feet of space between them, and she’s desperate to diminish it. “Rafe, I—can we talk?”

“About what?” he asks, but there’s a shift in his gaze that tells Isla he knows exactly what she wants to talk about.

She takes a couple of steps towards him, all too aware of the party going on behind her and that any one of her friends or her sister could walk by at any point and spot them. But she doesn’t want to add fuel to this already sensitive situation as she tells him, “I want to apologize—”

“Not here,” he cuts her off.

Isla blinks and before she knows it, his hand is holding hers and Isla’s gaze instantly drops down to the way his larger hand engulfs hers, his touch warm as their palms press together, and the air hitches in her throat as he tugs her forward. She has enough sense to use her free hand to lift the skirt of her dress so she doesn’t trip as Rafe pulls her around her corner, her heart thundering and too quickly for her to comprehend, they’re suddenly in a small, dark room.

Isla’s gaze darts, just barely making out the shelves next to her and along the wall opposite of the door as she turns around when the sound of the door clicking shut breaks the silence. She squints when a light is switched on, bathing her and Rafe in dim yellow lighting. Her throat tightens when she notices how small the room is—feeling smaller still with Rafe towering over her. Even in the shitty lighting of the supply closet, he’s unfairly gorgeous, the kind that makes her heart skip a beat in one second and pick up its pace in the next. And in the small space, the scent of his cologne is more prominent; fresh and woodsy and delicious.

When her gaze meets his, he arches an eyebrow and tells her, “Wouldn’t want your friends to spot us.”

He says it dryly, and it tightens something in her chest—even as she notes the way his gaze seems to trace the length of her, her skin prickling with awareness. His words have her blurting, “Rafe, I’m so—”

“I overreacted,” he cuts in, effectively surprising her as she gapes up at him. She most definitely hadn’t expected that. When he takes note of her surprised expression, one corner of his lips tilts up in a small, knowing smile. “I was thinking about it and I can’t exactly blame you for thinking I gave Maybank the black eye.”

“I was unfair,” she says with a frown, unsure how this conversation turned around. “I shouldn’t have just assumed that it was you.”

“I can’t exactly blame you for it,” he says, that half smile still visible as he rubs his bottom lip with a thumb. “Not with the history I have with your friends. I can’t expect you to forget all of that after just one date. It was unfair of me, too, to just shut you out these last couple of days.” His gaze meets hers and Isla’s throat locks at the genuine apology in his eyes, the kind that you can’t fake. “I’m sorry for not responding to your messages.”

Isla’s lips part, though no words come out as she stares at him in surprise. Part of her wonders if she’s imagining things, but she still can’t help the way her lips curve up into an incredulous, fond smile. Rafe’s gaze tracks the movement as he asks through a short chuckle, “What?”

She shakes her head, biting down on her smiling bottom lip. “I came here today fully intent on apologizing to you for not giving you the benefit of the doubt. And you just completely turn it around and apologize to me instead.”

His smile widens a bit, looking down at her with a lift of his chin. “Did I steal your thunder?”

Isla lets out a laugh. “A little bit,” she says with a nod. The air between them grows tense, in a way that makes her skin heat up as she realizes their proximity. But even so, her smile falters and she tells him, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rafe’s smile fades a bit and for a second, Isla thinks he’s going to deny being hurt. But then again, Rafe is full of surprises, because he nods, gaze dropping to their feet as his lips twist to the side briefly. “I appreciate your apology.” His gaze lifts, blue eyes locking with her deep green, and the air seems to crackle. “You’re forgiven.”

Her shoulders sink in relief, not realizing how badly she wanted to hear those words until Rafe says them. The guy had given her one of the best dates she had ever been on, and she had turned around and insulted him, hurt his feelings, and Isla hated that she did that. If you asked her months ago if she would be up at night, tossing and turning over hurting Rafe Cameron’s feelings, she would have laughed in your face. But now, Isla feels an immense amount of relief knowing that he has forgiven her, and it’s a crazy development, but it’s not one she minds.

“Good,” she says quietly through a smile.

Her heart jumps when Rafe takes a step towards her, the already small space between them diminishing more as he does. “What about me?” he asks, voice low and enough to threaten goosebumps breaking across her skin. “Am I forgiven, too?”

She has to tilt her chin up to maintain eye contact as he gets closer, her pulse skittering in anticipation as the distance between them diminishes. The world beyond the door of the supply closet ceases to exist and all Isla can think of, can focus on, is the man before her, towering over her in his staggering height that she never before admired. She sees the way Rafe’s gaze dips from her eyes, lingering on her lips, and her stomach flips at the hungry look that darkens his eyes. She desperately wants him to act on that hunger.

“Yes,” she answers, her voice a whisper as if she’s divulging a secret only for him to know. Her own gaze flickers to his mouth, at lips that look so soft and make her wonder if they feel the same. Desire makes heat pool in her belly, her heart thudding faster and faster with every passing second. Through her dried throat, she speaks up, “If I tell you something, you promise not to hold it against me?”

Maybe he hears the vulnerability that slips into her tone, because Rafe’s gaze snaps up to meet her eyes once more. His chin dips into a single nod. “I promise.”

Her pulse quickens even more. For a split second, she hesitates in spilling her truth, knowing it’s going to leave her open and vulnerable in front of a person she never before wanted to be in such a state. But somewhere along the way, things changed so fast that Isla is left dizzy from it, but it’s a slow turning change she finds herself wanting to explore more of. It’s scary and new, but Isla wouldn’t be a Pogue if she shied away from trying scary and new things.

So conjuring up every ounce of her confidence, she looks him in the eye and confesses, “I missed you.”

Rafe’s eyes flare and she swears she hears him suck in a sharp breath, like her words were a punch in the gut. Her own cheeks warm as her statement hangs between them, feeling her heart pounding in her ears as she waits for him to say something. Anything. The tension in the small space is taut, ready to snap at any second, and she wonders if he can feel it so intently, too. Is she just imagining it? Can he, too, feel the sizzle of energy that exists between them?

“Isla.” His voice is rough, eyes darkening with a need that she feels deep in her bones. “Tell me I can kiss you.”

She nearly wants to cry in relief. “Please.”

It’s all the permission he needs, thankfully, and their collision is earth shattering.

Rafe’s arm winds around her waist and he tugs her close, erasing any remaining space between them as he leans down and captures her lips in a searing, breath-stealing kiss. Isla can’t stop the instant, gratifying moan that sounds from her throat at the first contact of his lips against hers, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his suit jacket as she practically melts into him and the head spinning kiss.

Their fronts are pressed together and she swears she can feel every hard line of his torso against her as Rafe’s other hand grips her jaw, thumb on one side and his fingers on the other as he tilts her head just the way he likes it. Isla’s knees threaten to give out when his tongue teases her lips and she parts them for him immediately, wetness pooling in her underwear when he groans as his tongue languidly, teasingly slides along hers, tasting her as if he’s savoring every moment. Liquid heat pours through her blood as Rafe takes a few steps forward until Isla is being pressed against a shelf, the contents of it rattling yet neither of them paying any attention as he continues to rob her of her breath with his kiss.

One of her hands slides up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, and the pace of the kiss doesn’t slow for a second as Rafe’s arm moves from around her waist—only for his hand to grip her thigh from the parting of the slit of her dress, his skin warm against her already heated one, and she gasps against him as he lifts her leg to hook it around his hip. It brings them even closer, if possible, and Isla whimpers when she feels his hardness press against her panty covered core, the fiery need for him intensifying even more.

Yes, yes, yes. This is better than she could have ever imagined, going beyond her wildest fantasies. Every movement of his lips against hers sparks electricity in her veins, bringing her closer and closer to the point of cataclysmic explosion. She has kissed plenty of people before but, God, never like this. This, she can feel deep in her soul, bringing every cell in her body to life. She thinks she can easily get addicted to this—to Rafe’s kisses. How can someone be so damn good at kissing?

Isla doesn’t want to stop, she never wants this to stop, but air becomes an annoying necessity. Their kiss slows down, but it seems that Rafe doesn’t want to end it, either, dragging it out as long as he can, tasting her lips with sweet, soft kisses that make her heart ache in the best way. They don’t pull apart, foreheads pressing together as they catch their breaths, the supply closet filled with the sounds of their labored breathing as they share the air between them.

Isla’s eyes slowly open, heavy with dizzying lust, eyelashes fluttering as she finally opens them—only to see that Rafe is already watching her with a hooded gaze of his own. Her heart leaps, noting his kiss swollen lips, which have pinkened also because of her lipstick. The sight of her lipstick smeared on his mouth intensifies the heat pooled low in her belly, watching him with a hunger no doubt he can see.

Fuck. He kissed her in a way that ruined anyone else for her. There’s no going back from this.

“That was. . .” She trails off, still trying to catch her breath, their noses brushing together.

His mouth curves up. “Better than I could’ve imagined,” he finishes, making her already flushed cheeks blush more as she lifts her gaze to meet his, a shy yet thrilled smile dancing on her own lips. Especially when she feels his fingers brushing along her thigh, her leg still wrapped around him, and the blush deepens as she slowly puts her foot back onto the ground.

A breathless laugh escapes her as says, “You’ve got lipstick on your face.”

Rafe grins. An honest, panty-dropping smile that makes her want to kiss him again. His hand on her jaw shifts and she feels his thumb swipe along her bottom lip. “So do you, baby.”

Oh, God. The term of endearment does more to her than she cares to admit, breath stilling in her lungs as her lips tingle not only from his kiss, but the gentle caress of his thumb. His voice is low, a dizzying rasp, and if he ever finds out the kind of effect he has on her, then Isla is in trouble.

Dropping her gaze, she opens her purse and pulls out a small tissue packet. When she takes out a tissue and holds it up to him, Rafe glances at it before meeting her gaze, smirking as he says, “Your mess. Only right for you to clean it up.”

She finds herself grinning at the teasing glint in his eyes, biting her bottom lip as she moves her hand further up and, gently, wipes at Rafe’s lips. His gaze is heavy on her as she does so, heart thudding wildly as she gets rid of her lipstick smeared on his smiling mouth. “Done,” she says once she’s finished, crushing the tissue in a ball in her hand.

“Thank you,” he hums before taking the tissue pack from her hand. “My turn.”

Her pulse stutters once more when he places a knuckle under chin to lift her face up, gazes locking as he, oh so gently, wipes at the skin right around her lips, as if he’s being careful not to displace the rest of her makeup. It’s the most tender anyone has ever been with her, even if it’s something as mundane as him fixing her smeared lipstick, and Isla is a hundred percent sure she falls for him a little bit more, right at this moment. Who knew Rafe Cameron could be so soft, so gentle? After kissing her senseless, nonetheless.

“What do you say to a second date?” he asks, head tilting slightly as he dabs at the corner of her mouth.

Isla finds herself smiling, stomach fluttering. “I’ll say yes if you promise to kiss me again.”

Rafe grins, lowering his hand. Her body craves to be wrapped up in him again as he lifts his chin and says, “That’s a promise I’ll always keep.”

He proves himself when he presses a slow kiss to her lips once more, and Isla melts into him once more, wishing that they could stay in here, just the two of them, instead of returning to the Midsummers party. Her heart flutters wildly, happily, as she returns the kiss before they break apart slowly. “Just let me know when,” she tells him.

“Hmm?” Rafe hums, his gaze on her lips, like he wants to kiss her again. She’d totally let him.

Isla laughs. “For the date.”

His eyes flicker up to meet hers. “Yes, ma’am.” He glances over his shoulder. “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”

“One sec,” she says, taking out her phone and lipstick. Using the camera, she checks her reflection for a moment and grins at Rafe. “Nice clean up job,” she says, making him chuckle as he watches her quickly reapply her lipstick. He really did wipe away any remnants from her skin, and with the lipstick newly applied, no one would ever know. “Okay, I’m ready.”

She watches as Rafe steps to the door, switching off the light and plunging them into darkness, only for some light to slip through the crack that appears when Rafe opens the door just an inch or so. He peeks out, his hand gesturing her forward, and she steps up. “Okay, you’re good to go.”

He opens the door wider and Isla’s heart thuds as she steps out into the empty, bright hallway. She can hear the music and the party continue on outside, glancing down at the last second to make sure her dress is straightened, which it is. Right when she’s about to make her way down the hallway, not wanting to linger in case someone comes by, Rafe’s voice stops her.

“Isla.” She glances at him where he remains inside, standing in the space between the door and the door frame. He grins that panty-dropping smile once more, his gaze dipping to take in the length of her and igniting a fire in her skin as it trails back up to meet her eyes. “You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks flush, glancing away momentarily to give herself a second to get her wits about her, before musing, “You’re only saying that ’cause you just made out with me.”

He chuckles. “Doesn’t make it any less true.” He winks and somehow makes even that seem hot, when Isla would otherwise find it cringey if it was anyone else. Rafe nods in the direction of the party. “Get back out there.”

Isla’s not quite ready to leave him, but she knows she has to because her friends and sister will start looking for her if she’s gone for too long. When she rejoins Kie and Sarah, her sister asks, “Where have you been?”

“Bathroom,” Isla answers. “Why, did I miss something?”

“No,” Sarah hums, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. 

“Other than watching people ask Mom and Dad about their anniversary party. I think Mom’s gonna break out in hives,” Kie adds in. Their parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary is coming up quick, and they’re planning a party which Kie and Isla will be helping out with, and while their mom loves to throw a good party, the whole planning part stresses her out. “But we saw Carlo and were worried if you ran into him.”

Isla scoffs, trying to ignore the way her lips are still tingling from Rafe’s kisses. “I did,” she says, making both of their gazes whip to her. Isla rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. I told him to fuck off, and that was the end of that.”

Sarah shakes her head, expression scrunching up in annoyance. “If men are gonna have one thing, it’s the fucking audacity.”

Kie nods as Isla chuckles. “Tell me about it,” she says, just as her skin prickles with awareness. Her gaze wanders until it lands on Rafe, back on the porch with his friends, and Isla bites the inside of her cheek as his gaze seems to find hers in that moment, too. They lock eyes on opposite sides of the party, and her belly flips as that dizzying kiss replays in her mind on a loop.

She has to look away before anyone notices, tuning back into the conversation with Kie and Sarah while trying not to think of Rafe. But it doesn’t help that he watches her from wherever he is throughout the party, a secret just between them in a crowd full of people, but theirs to keep. For now, at least.

[pankowstuff]

rudy pankow — icons.

[jojameswinter]

"Why the hell do I need to go to–” Snatching up the paper Kiara’d shoved at her, she screeches, “Cleo’s? This isn’t even in Kildare!”

“They've been operating forever and will train you pro bono, so–”

“So they owe you then?” Sarah accuses. “Willing to take some dead weight off your hands to call it even, is that it?”

“I’m trying to help you,” Kiara rages, the onion victimized by her rapid fire blade.

“No one asked for your help!” No one helped Sarah when she was stuck in that stall; no one saved her from those blinding, glittery stage lights. She’d smiled and starved and saved herself all on her own.

There was a time she’d felt horrible, even responsible, for the rift between her and Kiara. Wondered why she tried so hard at everything except this one thing. But now, crumpling up Cleo’s address in her hand, she wonders if Kiara is banking on her not trying at all.

----

Read chapter 4 here on ao3!

[obxtober 2024: au, lyrics], [jiara week 2023 - day 5: based on a book/movie/show], [jiara bingo - coworkers]

jiara screencaps below from the one and only @kiekiecarrera ❤️

[notbadweird]

Jiara Week Day 6

Five Times JJ Realized He Liked Kie & The One Time He Realized He Loved Her

Word Count: 2212

JJ was not one to trust a Kook, his dad was quite clear on that growing up...well that was until he met Kiara Carrera. He, John B and Pope were all on the beach and had just finished surfing. It was late and they thought they were the only ones left on the beach but about a hundred feet away from them was another person in the water...Kiara.

The boys already knew of her existence and sometimes they wanted to talk to her but they thought she was another stuck up Kook who would immediately spit at them the moment she made eye contact with them.

[ktsaysthings]

It’s titanic au eve. Tomorrow we find out if you’re going to hate me or not :)

[ghostiewriter]

word count: 8.6k

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re oddly chirpy.”

“Can’t a man be happy?” He retorted, raising his hand to gently push some curls behind her ear before it dropped to lightly trace over her arm. 

“Not when you were being scolded by Catalina for suggesting taking the axe from the garden and castrating the journalist less than twenty-four hours ago,” Kiara countered as she sat up a little. “What are you planning in that head of yours?”

“Hm, see, I would love to tell you but,” he paused as he pushed himself to sit up. And before she would even say anything, he was already crossing the room to grab her suitcase beside the wardrobe. “You need to pack your stuff.”

Kiara frowned. “What?”

“Pack your bags, Kiara.”

“Why?”

“Can’t you just listen to me?”

“No.”

READ HERE ON AO3!!!

[dayas]

Jiara + Unconventional AU #42 please! ❤️🎤

For sure!!

42. Karaoke AU

AU Prompts

—

JJ Maybank wished he was drunk. It was New Years Eve, and he was at a party with his friends. Normally, he was the party king — flipping off of tables, dancing around, flirting his way into a few bedrooms before finally retiring for the night. But this bar was sort of lame — the singing coming from the current guests that were attempting karaoke was god awful, and he wanted to carve his eardrums out because of it.

Thankfully, it ended.

���Alright, it’s Spotlight Night, so you know what that means! Two lucky singers are going to duet a random song.”

JJ rolled his eyes.

“Who the hell would be stupid enough to sign up for that?”

“And now, please welcome to the stage, JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera.”

John B burst out laughing, clapping his friend on the back.

“Congratulations, buddy.”

“What the hell did you guys do?”

“We might’ve signed you up while you went to the bathroom. Maybe.” Pope’s shrug was accompanied by a shit eating grin.

Huffing, JJ forced himself to smile, waving and playing to the crowd as he made his way up.

“No, no, no,” a girl was saying, “Sarah, I don’t sing! Not in front of people!”

“You’ve gotta start sometime!” a blonde girl (presumably Sarah) cheered. “Me and Cleo have the utmost faith in you. Right, Cleo?”

“Hell yeah,” another girl grinned. “You’re gonna rock it, Carrera.”

“I am going to kill you guys,” she hissed, and up onto the stage walked the prettiest girl JJ had ever seen. He blinked a few times, just to make sure he was still alive and hadn’t fallen into a spotlight-induced daze.

She gave him a small, nervous smile and a little nod. He offered her a half smile in return. They waited for the music to start.

A few bars began to play, the words lighting up on the screen. Stifling a groan (he recognized the song from an incredibly cheesy high school musical), JJ grabbed his microphone and sang.

“Living in my own world, didn’t understand that anything can happen, when you take a chance.”

He turned around then, not wanting to witness whatever failure nerves would bring to Kiara.

“I never believed in what I couldn’t see. I never opened my heart to all the possibilities.”

JJ whirled, his eyes blown wide. She could sing.

He returned to the microphone and they sang together.

It was a matter of comfort, JJ reasoned with himself, that had him taking off his jacket for the second verse. They were both comfortable now it seemed, singing and dancing together, owning the stage as if they’d done this a thousand times.

He almost didn’t want the song to end, but when it did, all he could do was smile as the cheers rang out around them.

“That was amazing,” JJ said once they’d gotten down. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”

“I have no idea,” Kiara told him, “it’s just something I’ve always been able to do. You?”

He shrugged, “Same, pretty much. You sounded like a professional, though.”

Kiara grinned.

“My shower head gets a lot of practice from me.”

“Mine too.”

The countdown began, everyone around them shouting numbers out.

“Happy New Year!” they yelled at the same time, beaming at each other.

There were far worse ways to ring the new year in.