#obx fanfiction

[lovemomhatepolice]

between your thighs - jj maybank

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pairing: jj maybank x fem! reader

warnings: established relationship, simp!jj, pet names, cursing, fingering, oral sex (fem! receiving), munch!jj, overstimulation, English is my second language!

type: pure smut

word count: 900

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER

summary: jj maybank has only one favourite place in the world…

more content: outer banks masterlist, jj maybank masterlist

a/n: I KNOW IT'S MARCH, I HAD TO GET RID OF DRAFTS FORGIVE ME

The summer air was thick and warm inside the dimly lit walls of the Chateau. The sound of crickets filled the night outside, a soft melody accompanying the occasional creak of the house as it settled into its age. JJ Maybank sat lazily against the old couch, his golden hair disheveled, a telltale smirk tugging at his lips. His shirt hung loosely over his toned frame, unbuttoned, exposing his sun-kissed skin, while his girlfriend, [Y/N], lounged just within arm’s reach.

She was perched on the edge of the coffee table, her legs crossed teasingly, wearing a light summer dress that did little to hide the curve of her thighs. JJ’s blue eyes were glued to her, his pupils blown wide as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Do you even realize what you do to me?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers played absentmindedly with a loose thread on his jeans, but his focus never wavered.

[Y/N] tilted her head, feigning innocence as she leaned forward, her smile sweet but her tone playful. “Do what to you?”

JJ groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You drive me insane, babe. Can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting you.”

He pushed himself to his feet and took a step closer, his gaze trailing down her body like he was memorizing every inch.

Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching as he knelt before her, his hands finding their way to her knees. Gently, he eased her legs apart, his touch reverent, like she was something to be worshipped.

“JJ,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart.

His lips quirked up in a cocky grin. “Yeah, darlin’?”

Before she could respond, he dipped his head, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along the inside of her thigh. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his lips, and the faintest hint of salt from the summer heat lingered. JJ’s hands gripped her thighs firmly, his thumbs caressing soothing patterns as he worked his way higher, savoring every second.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day,” he admitted between kisses, his voice muffled against her skin. “How much I wanna be right here. How much I love… you.”

[Y/N] let out a soft moan, her fingers threading through his hair as she leaned back, giving him full access. JJ’s kisses grew bolder, more purposeful, until he reached the hem of her dress. He paused, looking up at her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Can I?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically tender, a sign of how much he cared for her comfort and pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe as he ran his thumbs along the edges of the lace, teasing her.

He pressed a kiss to the curve of her hip, then another, trailing a path toward the place he truly wanted to be. His lips were soft, his breath hot against her skin, and the anticipation made her stomach twist with need.

“JJ,” she breathed, her tone shaky but desperate, her hips subtly tilting toward him.

He smirked against her skin. “So impatient, baby,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

But there was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes as he hooked his fingers around her panties, pulling them down slowly. The way his gaze stayed locked on hers as he worked had her heart racing, her chest rising and falling with every uneven breath. When she was finally bare before him, JJ took a moment to simply look at her, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe she was real.

“Gonna make you feel so good, darlin’. Promise.”

Then he leaned in, his mouth meeting her with a gentleness that made her toes curl. His tongue traced over her folds with deliberate slowness, savoring her like she was his favorite thing in the world—and honestly, she was. The moment he found her most sensitive spot, he applied the perfect amount of pressure, pulling a gasp from her lips.

Her hands tightened in his hair, guiding him closer as a soft moan escaped her. JJ groaned in response, the vibration of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. He loved this—loved the way she fell apart for him, loved knowing that he was the one making her feel this way.

“You taste so sweet,” he mumbled against her, his voice muffled but dripping with adoration. “Could stay here forever, baby. Right here between your legs.”

His tongue worked her with expert precision, alternating between teasing flicks and firm pressure, driving her closer and closer to the edge. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as her body trembled beneath him. Every little sound she made—every moan, every sharp intake of breath—spurred him on, making him even more determined to make her fall apart completely.

“JJ, I—” Her words caught in her throat, her body tightening as the heat building inside her reached its peak.

“That’s it, baby,” JJ encouraged, his voice rough and full of need. “Let go for me. Wanna feel you fall apart.”

With one final flick of his tongue, she shattered, her body arching off the table as waves of pleasure crashed over her. JJ held her through it, his lips and tongue continuing their work, drawing out every last bit of her release until she was a trembling mess beneath him.

A/N:

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[rafesangelita]

Hi! Do you still do rafe smuts? How about he’s maybe smoking/doing lines with his friends and you are getting needy and he doesn’t give you attention and he’s treating you very mean and calling you clingy? He ends up fingering you in front of them. I just want to be his cokewhoreeee

♡ warnings: icky!rafe, mean!rafe, dubcon (?), heavy drug use, teasing, rafe’s friends are gross, dirty talk, groping, slapping, finger sucking, degradation, dumbification, marking, biting, voyeurism (?), public sex, fingering, suggestive ending

“rafeeee!” you whined, tugging on his arm so he could look your way. topper and kelce merely glanced at you before their bloodshot eyes scanned down your bare legs, both of them exchanging a look before nodding in your direction as if to remind rafe you were sitting next to him. “watch out.” rafe warned, shrugging you off before going back to laughing with his pervy friends. you couldn’t understand why rafe was always so set on you attending parties with him if he was just going to ignore you the whole time.

huffing through your nose, you watched as rafe rubbed his gums with his finger, a groan rumbling from his chest as he savored the taste of blow on his tongue. “i’m eating this shit like it’s candy..” he shook his head, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch. with rafe’s arms propped up on the top of the sofa, you took the opportunity to curl up into his side, his warmth providing you with a few seconds of comfort before he nudged you away. “quit your shit. seriously.” he glared at you, sending a pout to take over your features.

kelce and topper looked at you like you were there purely for their amusement, their heavy stares burning hot against your skin. rafe always teased that his best friends had it really bad for you, both of them pleading with your boyfriend to let them make a move on you. rafe shut down their advances of course, but god did it make him feel cocky. draping your legs across rafe’s lap, you waited for him to push you off but his defenses never came. your dress was so short, you were sure anyone could catch a glimpse of what was underneath— more specifically what you didn’t have on.

trailing your foot over rafe’s clothed cock, he took a mean bong rip before you sat up, propping yourself on his thigh as you left a string of kisses up his neck. “mmm— what are you doing?” you moved your hips, a whimper tumbling out of your mouth as you moaned at the slight friction you felt against your needy cunt. “just want you to touch me..” you whispered in his ear, grabbing his hands and guiding them over to cup your tits through your dress. rafe swallowed thickly, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he gave in and squeezed the swells of your breasts.

“yeah? you just want some attention, huh?” he glanced over at his friends and smiled when he saw their hungry gazes trained on your backside. you nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips as he took you fully in his lap, turning you around so you could face kelce and topper. your cheeks heated once you made eye contact with them, a soft moan sounding from you as rafe forced your legs apart. “well you got it now.” he laughed, barely lifting up the hem of your dress so the guys could steal a peek of your pretty pussy.

“tell them they can’t have it.” you let out a shaky breath at his words, your eyes fluttering closed when you felt rafe cup you between your thighs. “y-you can’t have it..” you gasped when rafe delivered a soft slap to your cheek. “tell them they can look but they can’t touch.” he dipped his fingers between your folds as you repeated his words, your jaw falling slack as he gathered your slick and circled your clit. topper leaned back in his seat while kelce laughed incredulously. “how do you get them to be obedient like this, bro?” a smug grin took over rafe’s features as he wrapped his free hand around your neck.

“you’re not fucking them right.” at this, rafe started pressing harder circles into your sensitive bud, the action making you jolt. “if you fuck them stupid, they start acting like it,” he laughed, “look at this brainless slut, you think she has a single thought running through her head right now?” you were in hysterics when rafe finally stuffed your cunt with his fingers, his long digits slipping in with ease. kelce scoffed, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to hear your sweet cries. rafe tightened his grip on your throat before nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear.

you all but melted when he curled his fingers, hitting that soft, gummy spot inside of you that made your toes curl blissfully. “rafe..” you grabbed his wrist in a poor attempt to remove his hand but he just went faster, his thumb now rubbing your clit with the added strokes of his digits. suckling on your flesh, rafe didn’t pull away until you sobbed into his chest. “i’m— oh!” topper watched intently as you lost yourself in rafe’s lap, your legs trembling on either sides of his thighs as he sucked bruises into your skin. your thighs shut around his hand as you tears welled up in your eyes at the white hot pleasure coursing through your system.

you writhed in his strong hold until he brought you down from your high, your body still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. wiping away at the stray tears that rolled down your cheeks, rafe finally removed his hand from under your dress, bringing his soaked fingers to your lips so you could lick them clean. topper and kelce sat there in shock, both of them hard in their khaki’s. you didn’t care that a whole party was taking place in the same room, you had already tuned everything out a long time ago. you blinked, your vision hazy as you looked around.

if someone saw what just went down, they didn’t point it out, the party carrying on as if nothing happened. topper watched as rafe whispered something in your ear, in which you nodded frantically as a reply. without a word, rafe helped you up as he adjusted your dress before resting a hand in the small of your back. “we’re gonna head out,” rafe winked, “i got a proper ‘thank you’ waiting for me when we get home..” you giggled, waving rafe’s friends goodbye as if they didn’t just watch you cum around your boyfriend’s fingers. kelce and topper waited for you two to disappear in the crowd before sharing a look.

“i need his game card.”

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ tells you about his home life

Warnings: mentions of abuse

JJ and I met about a year ago at a keg party. Some asshole spilt beer all over me and proceeded to get in my face about it. I was slightly drunk, so I was more confident than normal and decided it was a good idea to push this guy. Let me tell you, it wasn't. He pushed me and I tripped over my feet, landing on my ass with a hard thud. I tried to push myself up when this blonde-haired boy started helping me up. He pulled me up, and I turned around to face the stranger. "Thanks-"

"JJ," he said, giving me a smirk that made my stomach do a flip. Before I could even register the feeling, a fight broke out between JJ and the asshole who spilt the beer. I tried to break it up, getting thrown to the ground, again, in the process. I saw some other people running to help JJ, who I later found out was John B and Pope. I was pulled away from the chaos by Kie, who helped me up and made sure I didn't get in the middle of the fight again, even though I was the one who caused it.

I've hung around the Pogues ever since that fateful night. I love them all, of course, but there's something about JJ that I just can't get over. I knew that night he would soon become the person I trusted the most. I told him everything and he did the same. There was always something he was hiding from me though, I just hoped one day he would feel comfortable enough to tell me.

I had just left the house on Figure 8 to go pick up JJ. We were all going to hang at the Chateau for the night. I picked up my phone and quickly found JJ's number. "JJ, I'm on my way. I just left my house so I'll be there in about 15 minutes," I said into the phone as I drove down the long driveway, "just watch for me." Hoping he got the message, I put on some music and drove his way.

Once I was there, I parked my car and texted JJ that I was outside. JJ is normally late, but it's been almost 10 minutes, and the text doesn't even show it was read yet. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned off the car, getting out and closing the door behind me. It wasn't long until I heard yelling coming from inside the small, beat-up house. I made my way over to the door and heard even more yelling. I was about to knock on the door when I heard a thud and someone groan, which made my stomach turn.

The door quickly swung open, revealing an older man I assumed was JJ's dad. "What," he deadpanned with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a beer in one hand. I saw JJ behind his dad with a shocked look on his face. "Dad, I didn't know-" JJ tried to say, walking towards us. His dad quickly turned around and threw the beer bottle at JJ's feet, causing us both to flinch. "You know damn well I don't like people coming around here," he whispered with his hand clamped onto JJ's shoulder.

I got a closer look at JJ and noticed he had blood trickling down the side of his face and a small bruise forming around his eye. I went to take a step when I saw JJ shake his head at me. His dad whispered something in his ear before walking away. JJ took a deep breath before walking my way. "J, wha-" I was quickly cut off by JJ grabbing my hand.

"Can you just wait outside, and I'll be out in a few," he said as more of a statement than a question. He looked at me with pleading eyes and I just nodded my head as I squeezed onto his hand before walking back to my car. My mind was racing with thoughts, but I was also so overwhelmed I couldn't think straight. I don't know how long I sat in my car before JJ came out, slamming the door behind him. I looked up at him and noticed he didn't have blood on his face anymore.

He made his way over to my car and got in, not making eye contact with me. He was fiddling with the rings on his fingers as he spoke. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said with a sad chuckle. "Can we just go, please?" I turn the car on and drive away. "JJ, you don't have to apologize." I quickly look over at him, and he's still looking at his hands. "It's just he's had a bad day and all," he quietly says with a small sniffle. I pull my car over to the side of the road and face him.

"JJ," I softly say, grabbing his hand, which causes him to look up at me, and I look into his bright blue eyes, "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He takes a deep breath before looking ahead of us again. He still has his hand in mine and starts to mess with the bracelet on my wrist.

"I don't even know what made him so pissed off today. I got up and he was already drinking and throwing things around. I tried to leave and just make my way to John B's, but he kept going on and on about how everything was my fault and he wouldn't let me out the front door. I went back to my room and was just going to wait until he passed out 'cause that's what normally happens, but he followed me to my room." JJ took a deep breath before talking again. "You know, it's not the first time he's hit me, but it never stops hurting." I felt my stomach drop at his words and how casually he said it.

"I am always wondering what Luke I'll get when I wake up, I guess he keeps me on my toes," he tried to make a joke of it which caused my heart to ache even more. "He was mad that I didn't clean the house the night before, in case you were wondering. I talked back to him cause I was just fed up with his neverending bullshit. I shouldn't have cause I ended up with this," he motioned to his side with a wince, and when he lifted up his shirt, his side was littered with bruises. I put my hand over my mouth and felt a tear fall down my cheek. "Hey," he said, wiping the tear from my cheek, "I'm fine. It's not the first time this has happened."

"J, how long has this been happening?" I ask with hesitation. I look at JJ and he rests his elbow against the window. "It's been happening a long time." He scratches his temple before speaking up again. "He used to be a really good dad, and then something changed one day. He started drinking a lot more, and no matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough for him. He blamed me for everything bad that ever happened in his life. I started to act out and it got worse. I deserved it after that, though. If I would've just-" I cut JJ off once I realized what he was going to say.

"JJ, no way in hell did you deserve any of that," I tell him, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "Well I-" "Fuck that JJ, you did nothing but love him and he took that for granted. His fucked up-ness in no way correlates to you. You are the best of us, J. I will spend the rest of my life telling you that if I have to. You have so many people in your corner who love you, so fuck what Luke has to say." I hear JJ let out a small chuckle. "If you ever need me, you call me. I don't care if it's the middle of the night in a damn hurricane, I will be there because I love you." I didn't mean to blurt that last part out, but I was filled with overwhelming emotions. "Like in an I love the Pogues type of way." I tried to save myself, but I could feel the eyes boring into the side of my head.

"I love you too," JJ says with confidence laced in his voice, "In an I love you more than that type of way." I quickly look over to him and see the smile on his face. "Oh?" I ask before I have a chance to stop myself. He slowly takes my hand and interlaces his fingers in mine, causing me to blush, hard, without breaking eye contact. "Thank you for listening. I've wanted to tell you about Luke for as long as I've known you, but I was worried you might think differently or decide I'm everything my dad said I was."

"J, you are nothing your dad says you are." I look at our intertwined hands before asking, "Do the others know?" I look up at him and see him shake his head. "They don't, they know that my dad is an asshole and I'm sure they have their suspicions, but I've never told them. I would like to keep it that way for right now. You're the first person I've opened up to and I need a second to process that I think before I tell anyone else if that's okay?"

"Of course, J. I won't say anything, and if they ask why we were running late," I face back towards the front of the car before shifting the gear into drive, "Just tell them we were busy making out." I smirk at him, grabbing his hand again before getting back on the road.

I had an idea, and then it went not at all how I planned, so here this is.

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P11)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: ohhh emmm geeeee guys. 🤭 (dats it)

warnings: soft!Rafe cause I'm pretty attached to him rn, lowkey scared rafe?? BAHAH, kind of like ptsd but not really ig, trauma? post abortion symptoms.

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11)

The room was dark, the hum of the hotel air conditioner the only sound cutting through the silence. The TV had long since gone black, the streets outside were quiet and the world felt hushed and still. Y/N stirred beneath the sheets, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to wake up, but the sound of him tossing and turning across the room- again- had stirred her from the edge of sleep. She cracked one eye open, her face scrunching at the low light from the distant street lamp peeking through the curtains. A groggy breath slipped from her lips as she pushed up a little on her elbow, rubbing her eyes. She mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“…Rafe?”

There was a pause.

Then a quiet, “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

She asked, her tone slurred with exhaustion. She blinked slowly, eyes not quite open all the way. She could hear him shuffling again, the sheets rustling against the material of the couch.

“Can’t sleep,” he replied into the darkness of the room, “my back hurts.”

She sighed softly, she couldn't say she was completely surprised. That stupid hotel couch was way too small for someone like him- tall, broad-shouldered. No way he’d ever be comfortable on it. She could feel her eyes falling shut again but she tried to push back the urge to sleep as she murmured, her head already falling back against the pillow.

“...Come over here then”

A silence stretched across the room after the words passed her lips and Rafe sat up, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“Come sleep here”

She repeated, softer now, barely lifting her head, one hand fumbling to pull back the covers on the empty side of the bed as an opening for him. He hesitated as he started, his voice caught somewhere between surprise and caution.

“I don’t think that’s—”

“Just shut up and get in the bed, Rafe.”

She interrupted, voice even more slurred now as she tugged the blanket open fully. He blinked in the dark, stunned for a beat. Then he pushed himself up, rubbing a hand over his jaw before quietly walking around the bed. Her figure was already snuggled deep into the pillow again, one arm loosely curled near her face. She looked half-asleep already, her breathing soft and even. He slipped under the covers carefully, lying on his back and letting out a quiet sigh as the mattress dipped beneath his weight and god, it felt better already.

“This okay?”

He asked after a moment, voice low, referring to the space- or lack of it- between them. A hum answered him. Barely audible, but it was there. A gentle little noise of sleepy contentment into the pillow she was nuzzled into. Rafe let his head fall back against the pillow, one arm folded behind it as he stared at the dark ceiling. His chest still rose and fell a little quicker than it should’ve. He was about to say something- some nervous offer to move if she wanted more space- when he felt her hand. It slid across the sheets and settled on his chest. Light. Barely there. But it made him freeze. She mumbled, her palm resting over his heartbeat.

“Sleep”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes finding her face in the dark. Her lashes fluttered once more, but her breathing was slowing again. She was already halfway back to sleep. So he didn’t say anything else, he didn’t move. Just turned his head to the side and watched her for a moment longer, then he closed his eyes.

And for the first time that night, sleep came easy.

The morning crept in slow and quiet. No loud city noises, still just the low hum of the air conditioning still rattling in the corner, making the room just a little too cold. Pale light filtered through the thin hotel curtains, casting a soft, diffused glow across the room dust particles floating. Rafe stirred first. His brow twitched, and his lashes lifted, blinking against the muted light. It took him a moment, just a breath or two, to come to, his mind still thick with sleep. But then he felt it- the weight against his chest.

Warm.

Soft.

Steady.

He glanced down slowly.

Y/N was curled up against him, her face buried into the side of his chest, her arm tucked between their bodies. His own arm was looped around her waist, holding her close like it had settled there all on its own in the middle of the night. His palm rested on the small of her back, fingers curved into the fabric of her shirt. She was pressed against him like she belonged there, like she had always belonged there.

She looked peaceful.  

More peaceful than he’d ever seen her. Her lashes rested like delicate little fans against her cheeks, her lips parted just slightly, the soft dip of her cupid’s bow catching the light. He followed the slope of her nose, the arch of her brow, every detail etched in his memory now so he’d never forget it again.

He didn’t move, didn’t dare break the tranquillity.

His throat worked around something thick and warm he couldn’t quite name, something blooming deeply in his chest. She stirred gently in her sleep, and he immediately, lifted his arm from around her- giving her space. She moved, still in a sleep-hazed daze, she rolled away, her body turning to face the window. The blanket shifted with her, pulling across her tatted shoulder as she settled again, her breathing slow and even. Rafe let out a quiet breath. Pressed his hand to his chest for a second.  

His heart was racing and he shook his head gently, as if to clear it, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Running a hand over his face, he stood, stretching out the kink in his neck. No matter how soft the mattress or where he was, he hadn’t slept like that in years, like his body finally let go of every guard it had ever held. He padded quietly toward the bathroom, sparing one last glance over his shoulder at her sleeping form. They needed to catch the ferry in two hours.

And he didn’t trust himself to lay back down beside her.

Rafe was already dressed, shoes on, bag zipped halfway, the bare skin of his chest still a little damp from the quick shower he’d taken to shake off the strange restlessness from waking up with her in his arms. The room was slightly brighter now, pale light leaking through the curtains, the light catching dust particles in the air. He looked at the clock, they had less than forty-five minutes. “Y/N,” he called out, dragging his shirt over his head as he turned back toward the bed.

“C’mon, you gotta get up. We’ve gotta get going.”

No movement.

She didn’t even stir and he blinked in confusion. That was…odd. On the morning they'd got here, she was up before the sun. First one in the shower, already dressed and ready to go down before he even rubbed the sleep from his eyes. But now she was buried under the sheets, curled on her side, her face tucked into the pillow like the world outside the bed didn’t exist. A faint crease pulled between his brows as he glanced around- and then his eyes landed on her bag near the corner of the room. Just beside it, something white stuck out from underneath a hoodie tossed aside. He moved closer and notices it was a leaflet. He crouched, picking it up.

"After Your Abortion: What to Expect."

His heart knocked hard against his ribs. Right. His eyes skimmed the printed bullet points, each one sinking in a little deeper than the last:

Light to heavy bleeding

Cramping 

Nausea 

Fatigue

That’d explain why she was still out cold. Why she hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d woken up. She wasn’t just tired- she was probably hurting, still recovering. He set the leaflet back down exactly how he’d found it and crossed back toward the bed. His steps were slow now, careful and she was still facing away from him, her breathing soft and steady. He crouched down at her side, arms resting lightly on his knees. His voice dropped low, gentle. “Maybank,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly with the back of his hand.

“You gotta get up, yeah?”

She hummed in response, face still half-buried in the pillow, her voice muffled and sleepy. He sighed through his nose, fingers reaching out without thinking, brushing up and down her arm in a slow, comforting rhythm. “Y/N,” he tried again, softer now.

“C’mon. Wake up baby.”

The word just… slipped out and the moment it left his mouth, his whole body stilled.

Baby?  

His hand dropped from her arm, and he pulled back like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His chest tightened as his mind scrambled for footing- he didn’t mean to say that or maybe he did...? He didn’t even know anymore. But then her voice, hazy and warm, cracked through the fog in his head.

“M’tired”

She mumbled, not even questioning the slip. Just too far gone in the exhaustion, her body stretched out a little more as she yawned and stretched, her limbs slow and heavy with sleep. “I know you are,” he said, voice rough as he cleared his throat.

“But we’re gonna miss the ferry.”

She made a soft sound, halfway between annoyance and reluctant agreement, then sluggishly pushed herself up from the bed and shuffled toward the bathroom without looking at him. The door clicked shut behind her and Rafe stood there, unmoving.

Staring at the door.  

He dragged his hands down his face, drawing in a sharp breath through his nose as he grabbed his t-shirt pulling it on in disjointedly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ferry rocked gently beneath them, the soft groan of metal and water lulling the world into a rhythm that felt… at peace, for once. Y/N sat outside again, perched on a weather-worn bench near the same table they had taken on the way there, the sea stretching endlessly in front of them. The breeze swept her hair gently back, warm and salty, brushing against her cheeks like fingers smoothing down her skin. For the first time in a long while, she felt light. Not exactly happy, not exactly sad—just still.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her face toward the sun, soaking in the warmth, the breeze, the faint call of distant seagulls. It didn’t fix everything, but it made breathing a little easier. Footsteps approached, slow and steady on the deck, and she opened her eyes just as Rafe came into view—tall, quiet, familiar now in a way that startled her. He held out a paper cup toward her.

“Got you that tea you like”

He said casually, the sleeve still wrapped around it from the vendor inside the ferry. Her eyes blinked down at it, then back at him. She spoke, voice soft with surprise.

“Oh. Um—thank you"

A small, grateful smile pulled at her lips as she took it from his hand. She didn’t even know he’d noticed she liked this kind. He offered a small smile of his own in return- quiet and a little lopsided- and then sat beside her, shoulders brushing. Neither of them moved away this time though. It didn’t feel tense anymore.

In fact, it felt kind of comforting.

Rafe glanced out at the water, then up toward the sky. “It’s a nice day,” he said, voice low and casual.

She nodded, blowing gently into her cup. “Yeah it is”

He hesitated for a second, “You going to the country club today?”

“No,” she said, hands playing with the sleeve around the cup “I… I took a few days off. Told my manager I was sick. Sofia’s covering for me.” He nodded, lips pressed together like he was thinking about something else entirely. And then, after a beat, he cleared his throat.

“So… are you gonna go back to the club?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a pause- thin and quiet- where she could feel him watching her from the corner of his eye. “I mean…” she started, her voice a little unsure of what to say to him.

“Yeah... yeah I am.”

He looked over, just slightly, licking his lips before pressing them into a thin line. His voice was softer when he asked,

“When are you going?”

“Why?”

Her brows drew together, eyes narrowing faintly as she glanced over him. “No reason,” he said with a quick shrug, eyes darting back out to the water.

“Just… curious.”

She held his gaze for a second longer, trying to figure it out. The look in his eye wasn’t leering or expectant, but she still didn’t get it. Her mind did the easiest thing- assumed the worst- and a scoff slipped out.

“If you’re waiting for me to get naked and put on a show—”

“-that’s not why I’m asking”

He cut in, eyes snapping back to hers, jaw ticking. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. She blinked, caught off guard by how quick the bite was in his tone, a little taken aback by his sudden defensiveness. “Oh.” Her voice was smaller now.

“Well… then, yeah. I think I’ll go tonight.”

He nodded once, slowly and the silence settled again between them- not uncomfortable, but weighty in its own way- and neither of them said anything else for a while. The ferry groaned softly as it docked, metal clanking and chains clattering into place. The sky was just beginning to shift into early gold, that hazy pre-dawn light spilling faintly over the sleepy port. The place was near-empty, quiet and still in the way only 6 a.m. could manage. Their footsteps echoed as they made their way down the steel stairs, the sound of soles against metal echoing.

They stopped at the end of the port, just before the parking lot split into two directions, they both slowed to a stop. Her car was parked on the far left- and his was on the opposite side. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, fingers gripping at the material like it might anchor her. She looked up at him, eyes catching in the hush of morning, and that’s when it hit her—harder than she expected... she didn’t want to leave.  

Didn’t want to watch him walk away.  

Didn’t want whatever they’d been in that hotel room to end. Rafe gave her a soft smile, barely there but real. His voice was quiet when he said,

“See you ‘round, Bunny.”

The nickname made her smile, even as her heart twisted a little. He turned, heading toward his car, that familiar saunter in his step, but before he got more than a few strides away she called out,

“Rafe. Wait—I…”

He paused, turning back to face her, brows lifted slightly in curiosity. She looked up at him after taking those few steps after him, lips parted, something vulnerable flickering in her gaze.

“Thank you,”

She said softly and he gave a slight shake of his head, brushing it off like he always did.

“Don’t. It’s nothing.”

But before he could say more, she was stepping closer. Up on her tiptoes, her hand brushing lightly against his arm for balance, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Just the lightest whisper of a touch- but it stopped him cold. She’d let him see her body onstage practically bare. He’d kissed her neck in the dark, his hands roaming her body. But this? This felt different.

Intimate

When she pulled back, her eyes held his for a second longer, and then she gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

“See you ‘round, Cameron.”

Then she turned, walking toward her car, her heart pounding in her chest, echoing in her ears, but she didn’t look back. Rafe stood completely still, his bag in hand, the early morning breeze brushing against his jacket. The spot on his cheek where she kissed him burned warm. Lingering. He watched her until the door of her car closed behind her.

And only then did he breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had dipped fully below the horizon by the time Y/N turned off the main road and into the familiar cracked parking lot of the club. The neon sign buzzed faintly in the distance, casting its sickly pink glow against the darkening sky. She exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as her headlights lit up the building she knew far too well. The same one she’d walked into a hundred times before- confident, steady, unbothered.

But tonight?

Tonight, her palms were clammy against the wheel, and her heart was thudding just a little too loud. She rolled into her usual parking spot near the back, out of sight from the main entrance like always. The car idled in place, engine humming beneath her. Her hands hovered over the keys- but she didn’t twist them.

Couldn’t.

Because the last time she was here, things went... sideways. The kind of sideways that still woke her up in the middle of the night. The kind that made her fingers tremble now, just thinking about stepping inside. Her eyes flicked toward the entrance, where a few regulars were hanging around, smoking. She swallowed hard and shifted the car into reverse. The tires crunched softly over gravel as she backed out of her usual spot and drove forward instead, pulling into a spot much closer to the entrance. The headlights swept across the front doors before she finally threw it into park and killed the engine.

Still, she didn’t move, not for a full ten seconds.

Then, slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her bare legs. Her shoes hit the ground with a soft thud, and she gave herself one small moment, a breath of stillness, before she pushed the club doors open with both hands and stepped back inside. The music inside the club was already pulsing low through the walls- soft thuds of bass that seemed to vibrate right under her skin. As Y/N walked deeper into the dim, haze-filled space, the familiar scent of sweet perfume and cologne wrapped around her like muscle memory. Her shoess tapped lightly against the worn floors as she made her way toward the dressing rooms, weaving through the narrow back hallway, then she heard it.

"Y/N!"

She blinked, turning just in time to see Tommy stepping out from the side office, his brow lifting and his grin stretching wide as soon as he saw her. That signature silver chain glinted against his dark shirt, and his arms opened a little like he was about to greet an old friend.

“Where the hell you been?”

His voice wasn’t sharp- not accusing- just warm and familiar. She smiled, a little sheepishly, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Had some medical stuff,” she said, tone light but honest.

“Had to take care of it.”

“Shit. You okay now?”

Tommy’s face softened immediately, the grin dropping into something more concerned. “Yeah,” she nodded.

“It’s sorted.”

“Good,” he said, his voice sounding almost relieved. “That’s good. It’s been pretty damn quiet without you around here. Missed my favorite dancer.”

He flashed her that crooked, charming grin that had probably saved him from getting smacked more times than he deserved and she rolled her eyes, laughing as she passed him, her steps picking up again. She teased over her shoulder.

“Missed this shithole too”

“Oi!” Tommy called after her, mock offended, “watch it smart mouth- I'm still your boss”

Her laughter echoed softly as she pushed through the door into the dressing room, the familiar smell of setting spray and fruity flavoured vape hitting her all at once. The lights over the vanities buzzed softly, casting a warm glow over the few girls already inside. A couple heads turned as the door clicked shut behind her.

"Hey!"  

“Missed you, girl.”  

“Where you been hiding?”

Y/N smiled softly, offering a few waves as she moved to her usual spot in the corner and responding to the girls who seemed curious of her absence, setting her bag down with a small exhale. She unzipped it and started pulling her things out. Clothes, makeup, hair ties—and finally, her heels. She hesitated before slipping them on, the familiar weight of them feeling foreign now, like her feet had forgotten how to carry herself in them. She flexed her toes, adjusting the straps. Weird. But not unwelcome. The door behind her swung open.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of heels halted and then-

“Well, I fuckin’ neva.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, already grinning before she even saw who it was. Bambi. There she stood in the doorway, hand on her hip, lips pursed, an eyebrow high enough to kiss her hairline.

“Hey Omi”

Y/N said softly dragging out her nickname for the girl, smile slipping wider. Naomi stalked forward, shaking a finger in her face.

“Don’t 'hey Omi' me you little bitch.”

The girl scolded mocking Y/N's voice and Y/N burst into a laugh, covering her mouth to try and muffle it, but Naomi wasn’t having it looking the girl dead in the eyes. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Naomi warned, pointing now, her heels clacking with every step she took toward her.

“Three weeks! No text. No call. No FaceTime. No signs of life- you made me feel like a desperate ex Y/N!”

“I’m sorry!”

Y/N managed, laughter still in her voice. Naomi crossed her arms, eyes narrowed as she looked the girl up and down kissing her teeth.

“Yeah, well, sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time.”

She was right in front of her now, scowling, but Y/N could see through it- the softness behind the irritation, the way her friend’s jaw clenched not out of anger, but worry. She knew Naomi. This was just how she showed she cared. “I’m sorry I didn’t text, or call, or show up here...” Y/N said, her voice more sincere now.

“I was just… I had some medical problems I had to deal with okay?.”

“Medical problems?”

The girl raised a brow skeptically, arms folding tighter across her chest and Y/N nodded. “Yeah.” A beat passed between them and then Naomi scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“So what- your boy toy gave you chlamydia or something?”

“NAOMI! Ew, no!”

Naomi broke first, bursting into laughter, and Y/N followed a second later, the tension melting into something warm and familiar and she couldn't help but think about how much she’d missed this.

“I’ve missed you,”

Naomi said, shaking her head with a grin as though she'd read Y/N's mind. Y/N smiled in return nodding her head in agreement.

“Missed you too.” she said and then playfully added, “So… am I forgiven?” Naomi looked her up and down with narrowed eyes, chin tilting like she was really thinking it over. Then she huffed, loud and dramatic.

“Ugh. Fine. Come give mama some sugar.”

Y/N stepped into her arms and wrapped her up in a hug, her arms around the girl like she didn’t want to let go. It was a sweet little reunion, one she didn’t even know how much she needed until now.

The rest of the night hummed with that familiar low thrum of music, muffled bass and the sticky-sweet scent of spilled drinks and perfume lingering in the air. It’s like slipping into an old version of herself- heels clicking across the floor, lips glossed, hair set just right. Bunny walked out like she never left, and the regulars?

They notice.

They smiled wider and would reach for her hand to. tip bigger. It was subtle at first, but the message is clear: They missed her. And the way their eyes light up when she leans in, when she twirls just right over the night- she knows how to make them look, how to make them stay. However her eyes keep drifting back to that one booth. The one in the far corner with the leather booth and small stage. The booth Rafe and Barry always occupied like clockwork—always lounging back like they owned the damn place- was empty tonight.

And it feels wrong.

She keeps looking, expecting him to materialise out of the haze and lights. But it stays vacant. And even though she knows it’s better that way—less complicated, less intense- …she misses him.

She misses him?

The night blurs forward in glitter and low voices and clinking glasses. And she manages. She smiles. She dances and flirts. She pockets her tips and slips back into the rhythm like she never left but still— that booth stays empty. No matter how many bills she tucks into her garter, no matter how many grins are tossed her way—

She keeps thinking about him.

At the end of the night she says her goodbye, placing her earnings into her duffle bag and making her way to the exit- not before earning a pat to the ass from Naomi. Yet Y/N pauses at the door, her hand on the handle, but she doesn’t push it open right away. She looks out through the door, the parking lot is dimly lit, the flickering overhead lights casting long shadows across the asphalt.

Her heart is already racing.  

Same time.

Same place.

Same heavy quiet.  

And even though she’s told herself over and over again that it was a one-time thing- the memory is there, a phantom pressing on her lungs. Her fingers tighten around her bag strap. She closes her eyes for a beat, then pushes the door open. The air outside is cooler than she remembers. It brushes against her bare arms, raising goosebumps, and carries the faintest trace of smoke and saltwater. For a moment, she just stands there. Her eyes scan the lot, out of instinct more than anything else.

Empty mostly.

Until—

A shape.

Someone leaning against the hood of her car, arms folded, head dipped. Her body goes cold before her brain can catch up, heart climbing up her throat. But then her eyes adjust.

And it’s him.

He’s got one foot propped against her bumper, the toe of his shoe tapping absently against the metal. The glow from the streetlight hits the sharp edge of his jaw and the curve of his mouth, lit up like something from a movie.

“Rafe?”

She calls, her voice soft but sharp at the edges, like it might crack. He lifts his head slowly, eyes finding hers across the empty lot.

“Bunny”

He says in that low, drawling way- like he’s been expecting her. Her feet start moving, cautious but steady, shoes tapping lightly against the pavement as she asks confused.

“What’re you doing here?”

Rafe gives her a lazy shrug, like it’s nothing. Like he hasn’t been standing out here for a while- like the tips of his fingers hadn't started to get cold.

“Was just passing by...”

She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. A smirk tugs at her lips despite herself, “Right. And you just so happened to spot my car and sit yourself down by it?”

His eyes roll at her tone, but there’s no bite behind it. It’s playful,“Well- actually- I told Tommy to let me know when you clocked out.”

That makes her stop, right there on the pavement. Her expression shifts- brows pulling slightly together, head tilting like she’s not sure she heard him right, he asked Tommy when she clocked out?

“You what?”

Rafe shifts his weight, looking momentarily uncertain. His gaze flickers to the side towards the entrance of the club and then back to her.

“I just… wanted to make sure you got to your car safe”

He says, voice quiet. Honest. There’s no swagger in his tone, no teasing smirk. Just something genuine. And somehow, it hits harder than anything else he’s ever said to her, causing her to fall silent. Just standing there, staring at him. Because this means he remembers- everything she'd said to him. She hadn’t thought he would... The last time she left this place alone, she hadn’t made it to her car and now here he was, waiting for her, she swallows hard. She speaks softly, eyes fixed on his

“You didn’t have to do that”

“I know,” he replies, “but I wanted to.”

And something about the way he says it- like it’s not even a question in his mind- makes her chest tighten. The space between them is quiet again. But it’s a different kind of quiet, safer. She exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from her shoulders.

“Thanks”

Y/N murmurs, and this time she means it. She pops open the back door of her car and tosses her duffel onto the seat with a dull thud. Her shoulders rise and fall with a small exhale, her fingers brushing stray hair off her face as she glances over at Rafe still leaned against the hood.

“You, uh… you heading back home or…?”

She asks, voice soft, trying to sound casual even though there’s a weird flutter in her chest. He pushes off the hood slightly, shifting his stance. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I probably will.” There’s a quiet beat. Just the soft buzz of a streetlamp overhead and the distant hum of a late-night highway somewhere in the dark.

“I didn’t see you in the club...” she adds, eyes flicking up to meet his. “-or Barry.” She adds on quickly and Rafe nods once, hands in his pockets now as he faces her.  

“Yeah, we’re working with a new supplier. Need to check his stock before we start pushing anything in the area.”

“Right.”

She nods slowly but her voice sounds distant, distracted. It’s not like she wants him dealing- but still... her eyes had searched that booth all night without her meaning to. It was empty, and she hated that she missed his presence there. Rafe glances past her toward the duffel bag slumped in the back seat, then looks back down at her.

“Good night?”

He asks and Y/N huffs a breath that’s sort of a laugh and sort of not.  “Uh- yeah I guess” she says, a small shrug of her shoulder. “It was good. Could’ve been better though.” Her eyes meet his as she says it and they both know what she means.  

It would’ve been better… if he’d been there.

She turns, opens the driver’s side door, and slides into the seat. Her legs are still hanging out, feet planted on the ground, like she’s not quite ready to go just yet. Rafe shifts closer, resting one hand lightly on the roof above her and his gaze drops down to her. “You alright?” he asks, his voice low, edged with concern.

“How’re you feeling?”

She blinks up at him and offers a tired smile, “I’m okay. Just tired. Think I’m gonna head back.”

Rafe nods slowly,“right- yeah sure.” He takes his hand off of the top of her car and folds his arms over his chest. She watches his hand retreat and slips the key into the ignition twisting it.

Nothing.

Her brows furrow as she twists it again. But still nothing. The engine doesn’t even try to turn over, the car just sits there in silence. A frown settles on her lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters under her breath, frustration curling in her chest. She tries once more- this time with a little more force, like that’ll make a difference- but the car stays quiet, cold and dead. Her shoulders sink, and she lets out a tired groan, her forehead coming down to rest against the steering wheel. Outside, Rafe’s still watching, expression unreadable, but he straightens up a little.

“You want me to take a look?”

He offers, voice calm. She exhales slowly and looks over at him through her lashes, nodding with a tired smile.

“um… yeah, I’d appreciate that.”

Rafe props the hood of her car up, the metal creaking slightly in the quiet of the night. Y/N stays where she is, head leaning back against the seats head rest now, the faint throb of exhaustion crawling up her spine. She watches him through the open window as he fiddles with something under the hood- focused, frowning, the glow from the parking lot light casting a sharp edge to his jaw. A minute passes, then two and she shifts slightly, calling out,

“Uh… so what is it?”

Rafe straightens up, wiping his hands along his jeans as he leans over to look at her through the open door saying, “Battery’s dead... or dying. It’s not charging properly- so it’s not gonna start tonight.”

“Fucking hell”

She lets out a groan, dragging her hands down her face with a muttered, before leaning back again with a soft thud into the headrest. Her eyes flutter shut for a second. She’s not sure if it’s from frustration or the heaviness behind her eyes, but when she opens them again, Rafe is standing by the door now, wiping his palms on his pants, giving her that look- half amused, half sympathetic. “You know,” he says, voice lighter than she expects,

“I could give you a ride... If you want?”

Y/N blinks up at him, then glances past him- eyes landing on the black Range Rover parked just a few feet away. It gleams beneath the streetlight like something too expensive for a parking lot this grimy then she flicks her gaze back to him.

“I was gonna stop to get food,” she mumbles, almost like she’s testing the waters. “And I know it’s kind of late, so you probably won’t wan—”

“-It’s fine”

He cuts in easily with that low, calm tone of his., “I’ll drive you it's not a big deal.” He pauses, tipping his head slightly.

“What do you want?”

She squints at him and his generous offer before a tired grin starts twitching at the corners of her lips,

“Benny’s?”

“…What?”

His brows furrow, confused, “The hell is Benny’s?”

“You know,” she says, sitting up a little straighter, “the little burger drive-thru place near the bridge? It’s cheap but milkshakes are like the best on the whole island”

“Is this a Pogue thing?”

Her eyes narrow instantly before she rolls them taking her keys out of the ignition and pushing herself out of her seat, the door shutting behind her.

“You know what? I think I’ll just walk.”

He lets out a laugh, low and quiet, shaking his head at her attitude, “Alright, alright, relax,” he mutters, and he's already moving, beating her to the backseat and pulling out her duffel bag which he slings over his shoulder like it’s weightless, casually shutting her car door and locking it behind him.

“C’mon- no need to be so sensitive, bunny.”

He teases, walking toward his car like there’s no room for argument. He glances back over his shoulder when she doesn’t move still standing by her car.

“You coming or what?”

Y/N sighs, biting her lower lip to hide the smile tugging at it, before looking her car and shoving the car keys into her pocket starting towards him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She leaned forward slightly, peering into the small window at the drive-thru, “Can I get a double cheese with fries and a vanilla milkshake, please?” she asked, her voice a mix of hunger and exhaustion from the long night. She looked over at Rafe, eyebrows raised.

“What’re you having?”

He muttered something under his breath and she squinted her eyes clearly not understanding which prompted him to speak again,“I ain’t having anything.”

“Rafe,” she said, her voice a little sharper now. “No, you have to have something.”

“Fine.”

He rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly. Then, speaking to the older man at the window, who was waiting for them patiently, he ordered, “I’ll have the same, but with a Coke instead of the milkshake.” The man nodded, punching in the order before giving them the total. Y/N reached for her own bag, opening it up. Rafe watched her with a furrowed brow, watching her rummage around inside pulling out a small brown paper bag.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m paying”

She stated in a matter of factly tone, her fingers brushing over some of the crumpled bills in the paper bag. Rafe scoffed, shooting her a look before speaking out.

“Don’t be stupid, Maybank.”

Before she could protest Rafe grabbed his wallet from his pocket, pulling out a card and tapping it against the machine, paying without even thinking twice. “Thanks,” he muttered to the man who passed him the receipt, Y/N sat still in her seat now, bills still in her hands as she spoke up,

"I can't believe you jus-"

“Don’t argue with me and put the money away Y/N.”

She opened her mouth but it closed as she defeatedly put the money back into the bag which returned to the duffle in her lap. Meanwhile, the older man in the window was now handing the bags with their food to Rafe who handed them over to her and she took the, from him, the delicious smell of fast food hitting her senses immediately. Her stomach growled in appreciation at the thought of a greasy double cheeseburger and crispy fries.

"Thank you"

She said quietly, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, her voice soft. Rafe just nodded, the corners of his lips twitching slightly as he started the car and pulled out of the lot, the tires humming on the asphalt.  Y/N couldn’t help but sip from her milkshake, the cold, creamy sweetness comforting as they drove in silence for a while. She looked around, still processing the quiet after the busy night at the club. Then, she finally spoke up, breaking the stillness. 

“Where are we going?”

She asked, glancing over at him. Rafe looked over at her with a small grin, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes at the small mystery.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, you're a smart girl.”

She wanted to reach over and smack his arm at his idiotic comment, however she couldn't stop the smile from creeping on her face, so instead she turned her head away from him so he wouldn't see it. The sound of the car engine hummed steadily beneath them, and the familiar scenery started to pass by. The soft glow of the streetlights and the cool breeze through the window. And then she saw it, the familiar, empty beach parking lot. The one that always seemed to be the spot where their paths converged, no matter what. Rafe pulled into the a parking space with ease, the sound of the car’s engine winding down as he parked with a view of the distant sand and waves crashing softly under the moonlight. He switched the car off, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow at her expectantly.

“So, are you eating both bags or what?” 

Y/N couldn’t help but grin, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Oh, shut up,” she said, shoving one of the bags toward him.

“It’s all yours Cameron.”

He let out an amused hum, taking the bag from her with a roll of his eyes. The soft, easy banter felt natural between them, and for a moment, it was just the two of them and the calm sounds of the ocean, nothing more. His fingers moved wrapping his burger as he leaned back in his seat, the salt air mixing with the smell of food.

“You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”

“Yeah, the nicest”

She just shook her head, taking a long sip of her milkshake again. The soft glow of the dashboard illuminated the quiet beach around them, and as they ate, the sound of the waves and the occasional crunch of fries was all that filled the space. Y/N glanced over at Rafe, watching him chew thoughtfully as he finished his bite, and then took a slow sip of his drink. “So...” she started, breaking the silence, her voice casual but with a hint of curiosity.

“What do you think?"

Rafe paused for a second, chewing his food slowly before swallowing. He looked over at her, a slight smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Not too bad for a Pogue-owned place.”

Y/N's eyes narrowed playfully at him, and without missing a beat, she shoved his shoulder with her own, making him sway slightly in his seat, “Hey! Watch it Maybank- you’re lucky this food’s good or I’d kick you out and make you walk home.”

She popped another fry into her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she raised her hands in mock surrender. Rafe chuckled softly, his gaze flicking over to her, the smirk still playing on his lips. Y/N clearly not holding back the smile tugging at her lips teased, “Yeah, yeah.” She leaning back in her seat as she turned to look at him saying,

“you know, for a guy who's the 'Kook King' you sure do like Pogue stuff.”

Rafe’s amusement deepened, his eyes flicking over to the beach for a second before meeting hers again. But then his gaze lingered on her, his playful edge now replaced with something softer, more intense. He wiped his mouth, setting his food down, and casually leaned back in his seat, “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little quieter now,

“s’not the only Pogue thing I like...”

Y/N felt the air shift at his words, something unspoken hanging between them. She looked over at him, her heart skipping a beat before she quickly turned her attention back to her burger, taking a slow final bite to avoid the pull of his stare. She reached for her milkshake taking the lid off and tilting the cup to catch the last bit of the cool, sweet drink. She let it hit her mouth, savouring the flavour as a small drop dribbled down the side of her lip. She didn’t even notice it at first, but the coolness of the drink against her lips felt sharp, and she instinctively reached for a napkin.

But before she could wipe it away, she felt the warmth of his hand beside her. Rafe’s thumb gently brushed across her skin, wiping the drop away. The touch was light, but it lingered longer than it should have, and her breath caught in her throat as she followed the motion of his hand. Her eyes tracked his thumb as he slowly pulled it back to his mouth, his gaze never leaving her face as he licked the sticky sweetness from his skin.

The action slow and deliberate.

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture. The words she might’ve said caught in her throat, and she couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment now press in on her. The warmth of his gaze felt different now, charged in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for- but couldn't quite escape, couldn’t quite help herself from. As Rafe's gaze remained on her, intense and unyielding, her tongue unconsciously came out, sweeping across her lower lip. The movement was small, but it didn’t miss him. Her eyes flickered toward his lips, and she felt a heat rise in her chest. Her breath caught for a moment, her body language shifting, drawn in despite herself. Rafe noticed, of course. His gaze darkened, lips pressing together as if fighting back some kind of tension. He felt the subtle shift in her, the way her body language had changed, he could see it in the way she couldn’t pull her gaze from him, how her breath seemed to slow just the tiniest bit. A flicker of something passed between them, and without a word, he shifted closer, leaning toward her slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N…”

He murmured, his voice low and rough, tinged with something raw. She whispered, her voice catching in the air between them, the word a soft invitation.

“Rafe...”

She didn't even realise she had said it until the word left her lips. Quiet. Almost like a plea, or maybe just amplified by the weight of everything they hadn’t said yet to each other. They were inches apart now, so close that Y/N could feel the heat radiating from his body. The air between them was thick with tension, the quiet hum of the car’s heating was the only sound filling the space. Her eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, the words hanging heavy in the silence.

"We shouldn't"

She whispered, barely audible, her voice thick with uncertainty, her heart pounded in her chest, pulse racing. Rafe’s gaze dropped to her lips for a moment before he spoke, his voice low and hushed, like the slightest noise could break the fragile thread of the moment between them.

"Then we won't"

He replied, his breath warm against her skin, close enough to feel the words vibrate through her chest. She didn’t move, didn’t pull away, and the words hung between them like a delicate dance neither was ready to disrupt. Their proximity felt charged, every second stretched thin, hanging in the air like something that could either fall apart or ignite into something they hadn't fully prepared for. Neither wanted to break it- this moment so fragile, so full of something neither could quite name. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, neither of them daring to make the first move, both waiting for the other to break, until quietest wiper left Y/N's lips,

“Please” 

And Rafe couldn’t hold back anymore.

He shifted just the slightest bit closer, his breath mingling with hers, and then he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in the softest of touches.

It was like a spark that ignited fire, a flame that had been waiting to burst into something more for months now. Y/N’s breath hitched as the sensation of his lips on hers sent a wave of warmth flooding through her. Her fingers, almost instinctively, went to the back of his head, threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Her other hand found the fabric of his shirt, gripping it between her fingers, feeling the heat of his body through the material.

Rafe’s hand found her jaw, his thumb brushing gently over her skin as he cradled her face, keeping her close, not wanting to pull away. He deepened the kiss, just a little, coaxing her to follow, to melt into him the way he’d been yearning for. Her lips parted ever so slightly and he didn’t hesitate, the kiss growing more urgent, more heated, as though their bodies were finally catching up to what had been blooming between.

Their lips clashed against each other a little messier now , a little more desperate- the kind of desperation that only comes after months of restraint, of pretending nothing was simmering beneath the surface when they both new that was a lie. Y/N shifted breathlessly closer, nearly climbing into his lap as their mouths moved in sync, lips tugging, parting, meeting again with growing intensity. Rafe’s hand moved from her jaw to the back of her neck, holding her steady, holding her close, while her fingers curled tighter in his shirt like she didn’t want to let go.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Her phone vibrated insistently from the cupholder, a harsh reminder of the world outside of their little moment. She hesitated, lips still brushing his, her brows pulling together slightly as she started to pull away, glancing toward the source of the sound. But Rafe didn’t let her get far. His hand found her jaw again, gentle but firm, pulling her back toward him. His forehead rested against hers nose bumping into hers, his breath warm as he whispered, low and quiet, 

“Leave it.”

His eyes searched hers, full of heat and something much deeper than simple desire, and in that second- nothing else mattered. She looked back down at the still-buzzing phone, her body torn for a brief moment. And then, just as quickly, she looked back up at him and leaned in, pressing her mouth to his again.

Like choosing him wasn’t even a question.

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[edenunbuilt]

── ϧ𝑒 no honor among kings: chapter 1.ೃ࿔

℘ jj maybank x fem!kook!oc ৴ length: 3k ৴ day of posting: sun, apr. 6

summary: after being publicly snubbed by his father and stripped of any claim to the groff legacy, jj maybank spirals—fast, loud, and vengeful. but somewhere between the smoke and the mezcal, a dangerous idea takes root: if he can’t inherit power, he’ll steal it—and he knows just the girl to help him do it.

chapter content: kook!jj ﾉ not proof read ﾉ language

author's notes: new series! super exciting, I know. here's a little something that I've been working on these past couple weeks. don't worry! i'll still be writing short drabbles and fics between the series postings, this is just something i'm very excited and passionate about. i hope you guys enjoy this series as much as i love writing it. that's it! grab a snack, and buckle in!

if there was one thing jackson maybank was good at, it was disappointing his father. he’d made an art of it, really. from the too-loud parties in their beachfront house to the whispered scandals that followed him like smoke, he never failed to fall short of groff standards. and that was the whole point. he didn’t want the name, didn’t want the legacy. that’s why he used his mother’s last name—maybank—a final middle finger raised in his father’s direction, the one thing he could still control.

it was petty, sure. but it made his father’s mouth go tight every time someone said “mr. maybank,” and jj would take a win where he could get it.

which made today a little ironic.

because after nineteen years of rejecting everything groff, now he wanted a piece of it.

but before the boardrooms and betrayals—before the title was handed to langston fucking groff—jj woke up with his face pressed into someone’s designer couch, the taste of tequila clinging to the back of his throat like regret.

sunlight stabbed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the first thing he registered was the splitting pain behind his eyes. the second was the thud of bass still echoing through the house, like the party had crawled into the walls and refused to die.

he sat up slowly, wincing as the movement sent his skull ringing. someone had scrawled a phone number across his forearm in lipstick. there was glitter on his jeans and someone else’s shoe under his head. classic.

he reached for the warm, half-empty bottle on the coffee table and took a swig, wincing. it wasn’t tequila. it was worse. something syrupy and cheap. he set it down and rubbed his eyes, trying to remember where the hell he was.

then he saw the art on the wall—some abstract horror that probably cost more than most people’s cars—and realized he was still at harlow’s place. or maybe it was diana’s. didn’t matter. they were all cut from the same silk and stitched together with rumors.

jj stood, his joints cracking like static, and padded barefoot across the marble floor. his phone buzzed somewhere in the cushions, but he ignored it. he already knew what it said.

boardroom. 11 sharp. no excuses this time.

his father always texted like a cease-and-desist letter.

jj looked at the clock. 10:47.

well. shit.

he didn’t bother changing. just threw on yesterday’s hoodie, grabbed his car keys, and walked out into the blinding morning like a man heading to war.

────────────────────────

he stood in the back corner of the groff family boardroom, the room his father had once called the "command center of the empire," and lit a blunt he wasn’t supposed to light. the wallpaper had been redone last fall, some hideous deep green that screamed old money, and the table in the center—hand-carved, imported from switzerland, or whatever bullshit origin story his father liked to recite—was surrounded by polished men with thinning hair and black credit cards.

and across from them sat langston groff.

langston.

jj ground his teeth as he took a slow drag.

he could barely look at the guy without wanting to shove him out of his chair. too clean, too polite, too eager to please—exactly the kind of bloodless heir his father had always wanted. the kind that shook hands with donors and never got caught doing lines off a yacht bathroom sink.

“jackson.”

his father’s voice was smooth and empty, like a car commercial voice-over. jj didn’t move from his corner.

“you’ll want to pay attention,” the man continued. “this concerns the family legacy.”

there it was again. that word. legacy. like it meant anything real.

jj took another drag, let the smoke curl out between his teeth. “is this the part where you finally disown me?”

a few of the men chuckled, unsure if it was a joke. his father did not.

“langston will be stepping into a more prominent role this year,” he said, eyes never leaving jj’s. “public-facing. events. speaking engagements. eventually, the board.”

that was it. that was the announcement. jj’s last thin thread to the family fortune—snipped like it meant nothing.

and maybe it shouldn’t have mattered. he’d spent his life swearing he didn’t want it. he’d made a name for himself in parties, chaos, and detentions. he didn’t belong behind a boardroom table.

but still.

still, it felt like being shoved out of a house that was supposed to be his.

jj stubbed out his blunt in a crystal dish that definitely wasn’t an ashtray. “you’re making a mistake,” he said.

“i’m making a choice,” his father replied calmly. “something you’ve never learned to do.”

the words hit harder than jj wanted to admit. because deep down, beneath all the anger and the indifference, there was a part of him that had wanted the damn house. that had wanted the name to mean something because of him, not in spite of him.

he left without another word.

────────────────────────

if his father thought passing over him would humble him, he clearly hadn’t paid attention to the last nineteen years.

jackson groff-maybank—or just jj, if you asked him—did what he always did when he was furious: he got louder, drank more, and made sure the entire island knew about it by sunrise.

by the time he rolled up to rafe’s place that night, he’d already taken two shots of mezcal and told three people at the country club that langston groff looked like he fucked his accountant and cried after. all true. or at least believable enough that people laughed the way they always did when jj was angry and trying to be funny.

rafe’s house was its usual mess—marijuana smoke hanging low in the air, the faint thump of bass from some speaker in another room, and at least four bodies strewn across expensive furniture like centerfolds. jj stepped over a champagne bottle and made a beeline for the sunken living room.

there, on the cream leather couch ward definitely didn’t know existed, was rafe cameron in all his smug, grinning glory. a girl with mile-long legs and bleached-blonde hair was curled up in his lap like a trophy. she was giggling, drunk or high or both, running her hand along his chest like she owned him.

rafe barely glanced up. “took you long enough.”

jj dropped into the armchair opposite him and immediately kicked his feet up onto the glass coffee table, knocking over a half-empty beer can. “you’re not gonna believe this shit.”

rafe licked a trace of whatever powder he’d been playing with off his thumb and looked at jj like a cat who’d already killed the bird. “groff senior finally put you out of your misery?”

jj grinned without humor. “langston. he gave it to langston.”

that earned a laugh—sharp and vicious. the blonde jumped slightly. rafe ignored her. “you’re joking.”

“wish i was.”

rafe shook his head. “christ. that’s insulting even for him.”

“he said langston was ‘dependable.’” jj made finger quotes with a sneer. “because i guess doing coke on a golf course is more respectable when you wear a tie while doing it.”

“sounds like you’re losing your edge,” rafe said, dragging his thumb along the girl's thigh. she responded by kissing his neck, and jj rolled his eyes.

“i’m serious.”

“yeah, so is my dick right now. read the room, maybank.”

jj ignored him and leaned forward, arms on his knees. “i am serious, rafe. this isn’t just about legacy or pride or any of that bullshit. this is about him winning. again.”

“you are him,” rafe muttered.

jj ignored him again.

he looked around the room—the designer furniture, the neon halo of expensive lighting, the way everything here reeked of power that had never been earned. this was what people thought success looked like. this was what his father valued. and jj had spent years laughing at it, spitting on it.

now he wasn’t so sure.

“you ever think about just… taking it?” jj said suddenly.

rafe raised an eyebrow. “taking what?”

“all of it. the power. the seat at the table. doing it better than them. cleaner. louder. our way.”

rafe snorted. “no. i’d rather die pretty.”

jj’s knee bounced, agitated, and the edge of something dangerous curled under his skin. “yeah, well, i’m tired of watching people like langston play king when they don’t even know how to hold the crown.”

“and what, you do?” rafe asked, finally giving him something resembling attention. “you gonna go kiss babies and shake hands, maybank? because i don’t see you in a suit and tie unless you’re attending a funeral or avoiding jail time.”

jj didn’t answer right away. he just looked down at the ring on his finger—a family heirloom his father gave him when he turned thirteen. a pathetic olive branch. he’d considered throwing it into the ocean more times than he could count.

“i don’t have to be him,” jj said finally. “but i can beat him. i just need someone who knows how to play the game.”

and for the first time that night, rafe paused.

it wasn’t much. just the smallest flicker of something—interest, maybe. or something colder. he blinked, and it was gone.

“you’re serious,” he said.

jj leaned back in the chair, fire in his eyes, mezcal in his blood. “deadly.”

rafe looked like he was about to say something else. maybe he was. maybe he thought of her too—kline. leila. but then the blonde girl tugged him back toward her, whispering something in his ear. he grinned and let her pull him down, his interest in jj fading as quickly as it had come.

“good luck with your villain arc, maybank,” he said, voice muffled as he kissed her collarbone. “let me know how that works out for you.”

jj didn’t answer. he was already lost in thought.

someone who knew how to play the game.

he tapped the ring against the side of his glass, the sound sharp and rhythmic.

he knew exactly who he needed.

────────────────────────

by the time jj left the cameron estate, the party had bled into chaos.

someone was in the pool without any clothes on, someone else was puking into a crystal vase, and rafe had disappeared with the blonde into a bedroom that no doubt belonged to his father. the place smelled like weed and chlorine and privilege.

jj walked out into the night with his hoodie half-zipped and a lollipop dangling from his mouth, the mezcal buzz dulling to a simmering throb in the back of his skull. his car—matte black, custom-fitted, a gift from his mother that his father hated—was parked crooked on the curb, wheels kissed up against the manicured hedges.

he got in, slammed the door harder than necessary, and sat there in silence. the cherry sucker melted in his mouth, tongue swirling around the smooth sphere before he bit down on it with a crushing crunch. 

his hands gripped the wheel like he could wring something useful out of it.

that was the problem, wasn’t it? he wanted something. for once, he actually wanted something.

not for the thrill of it. not for revenge. but because somewhere, under all the anger and deflection and bravado, jj groff-maybank actually gave a shit. he just had no idea what to do with that.

the thing was—he could do it. he wasn’t stupid. everyone liked to pretend he was, but he’d grown up in those boardrooms, sitting in the back with a game boy while his dad inked mergers and backroom deals. jj knew how things worked. he just had no interest in playing the game on someone else’s terms.

not until now.

and if he was going to play? he was going to win.

but he needed help. not from someone like rafe, who was too volatile and too high to care. not from some nepotism baby with a finance degree and a cocaine problem. no, jj needed someone who was brilliant, relentless, and already neck-deep in that world. someone who understood power because they’d been born into it, but had never really been allowed to wield it.

someone like—

leila cecilia kline.

the name came to him like a reflex. a sharp inhale of cold air.

jj’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

the kline girl. princess of figure eight. she was all pastels and pearls and pointed opinions. sharp as a blade behind that perfectly glossed smile. he’d never spoken to her for more than a handful of seconds—just enough to know she could probably out-debate a politician with a concussion.

she didn’t like him. he was sure of it.

but she wanted power. he’d heard it in passing, in the way people whispered about her behind her back. that she was too much. too bold. that fredrick kline had once called her “smart enough to be dangerous.”

jj could work with dangerous.

he pulled out his phone and scrolled through contacts until he found a number he wasn’t supposed to have. he didn’t remember where he got it—probably from topper’s drunken bragging about how he used to text her during junior year. or maybe sarah. she and leila had been friends once, before sarah bailed on her debutante duties and went full pogue-chaser.

he stared at the screen for a long moment.

> leila kline

jj exhaled, the weight of his irritations not lessening.

everyone in figure eight wanted her. that wasn’t a secret. leila kline was the kind of girl guys talked about like a status symbol—topper used to brag that they almost hooked up, like proximity to her made him worth more. like just having her number meant he’d touched something divine.

jj hadn’t said it out loud, but it pissed him off. not because he believed topper. but because it reminded him that she was out of his league. out of everyone’s league.

she walked through this town like it was hers—and maybe it was. kline stamped across the island like a watermark. her last name was in every foundation, every boardroom, every regulation that kept this place polished and cruel.

and yet, she wasn’t some stuck-up brat. he’d watched her in rooms, read the way she moved, how she spoke—measured, sharp, soft only when it served her. she was a politician’s daughter with a spine made of gold, the kind of girl who didn’t just know her worth—she wielded it like a sword.

she terrified men like langston groff.

jj liked that about her.

it was stupid. it was suicidal, really. but it was also exactly the kind of thing he would do.

jj pressed call.

one ring.

two.

three.

he hung up before it connected.

he wasn’t ready. not yet.

this wasn’t a drunk impulse or some half-baked rebellion. if he was going to do this—if he was going to offer her something—he had to mean it.

and he did.

he just needed to find the words.

────────────────────────

he didn’t go home.

he couldn’t. the groff estate was too quiet, too polished, and too full of ghosts that wore his last name like a curse. the housekeeper would glance up with polite pity, the way she always did, like she knew he was spiraling even before he said a word. and his father?

well. he wouldn’t be there anyway.

instead, jj drove aimlessly, lights blurring past his windshield as he burned a lazy figure-eight around the island. he had the music too loud and the windows down despite the chill, and the now bare lollipop stick kept in his mouth just so his teeth wouldn’t crack from the tension of his jaw.

his thoughts kept drifting back to her.

not rafe. not his father. her.

leila fucking kline.

and it wasn’t just because she was smart. or beautiful. or a better ice queen than half the debs in this town put together. it was because she never once gave him the satisfaction of reacting the way everyone else did.

he’d pushed her buttons. once. a year ago. some fundraiser at the club where she was stuck playing the perfect daughter, all pearls and posture, and he—being himself—had cracked some joke about her last name being the reason she got into yale.

she’d looked him dead in the eye, sipped her drink, and said, “you wouldn’t know an ivy league education if it hit you in the face with a lawsuit.”

and then she’d smiled. so pretty it hurt.

he’d never forgotten it.

because that was the thing about leila—she didn’t try to be better than everyone else. she just was. and that burned worse than the disappointment in his father’s voice or the taste of cocaine on a bad night.

it made her untouchable. untouchable and undeniable.

and now, even in this chaos—especially in this chaos—she was the only person who made sense.

jj pulled up to the marina and killed the engine. the air smelled like salt and gasoline and something old. familiar.

he got out, leaned against the hood, and stared out at the water. dark and endless. kind of like the thoughts racing in his head.

because maybe—maybe—this wasn’t just about sticking it to his father anymore. maybe this wasn’t even about langston groff or the board or rafe or the business.

maybe this was about wanting to burn it all down and rebuild it into something he could actually stand to look at. something dangerous. something his.

and if he was going to do that, he needed leila.

not just because she was smart. or connected. or a name with weight.

but because she was the only person who wouldn’t let him get away with bullshit. the only person who might actually force him to become someone worth taking seriously.

which terrified him.

and maybe, in some fucked-up corner of his mind, thrilled him too.

jj leaned his head back towards the night sky and exhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded, everything forgotten but the proposition he’d make kildare’s princess come morning. 

tomorrow, he thought.

tomorrow, he’d go to her with something she couldn’t refuse.

a name, a seat at the table, a crown neither of them were ever supposed to wear.

tonight, though, he let himself imagine it—just for a second. not his father’s empire. not the groff legacy.

his.

built on ashes. dressed in gold. run by a maybank and a kline.

let them try to stop him.

𐙚𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚

thank you for reading! © edenunbuilt 2025. all rights reserved — claims, copies, reposts or translations are not permitted. ˖⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊

[bbyg4rl]

𝐉𝐉 𝐁𝐔𝐘𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓

cw: bf!jj x ARTSY!READER, fluff, gifts.

a/n: first time writing artsy!reader im kinda in love w this!!

JJ wasn’t great with money—never had been, never would be. But now that the Pogues weren’t constantly fighting to survive, now that there was a little extra cash in his pocket, he found himself wanting to spend it on you.

You, who painted on scraps of wood and sketched on his hands when you ran out of paper. You, who had once stopped in front of that one expensive wooden box of oil paints, fingers trailing over the surface before stepping away with a quiet maybe someday.

JJ decided someday was now.

So he dragged John B to the mainland, walked straight into the fancy art store, and bought the exact paint set you had wanted.

“Only the best for my girl,” he told the cashier, grinning.

By the time JJ got back, it was late, but he couldn’t wait. He found you in your boutique, humming along to Kie's indie song playing in the background, absentmindedly patching up one of his torn shirts.

JJ leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Hey, cutie.”

You turned, your face brightening instantly at his welcome intrusion. “Hey! Where’d you disappear to all day?”

JJ just handed the bag to you. “Got you something.”

You held it loosely, confusion tainting your features. “What is this?”

He didn’t answer. Just watched, running his doodle covered hand through his hair. The black pen ink sharply contrasting his golden hair.

You hesitantly opened the bag, pulled out the box, and then—

Silence.

Your fingers ran over the smooth wooden surface, tracing the embossed logo. The exact same one that broke a year ago. The one you had once passed by in a store while you were shopping for boutique supplies and said, “Maybe someday.”

And apparently, that someday was today.

Your breath hitched. “JJ,” you whispered, voice wobbly. “This is—this is expensive, I can’t—”

He shrugged, casual as ever. “It's nothin', baby. I've been saving up to buy it for a while now”

Your eyes welled up. JJ Maybank. Ever the reckless one, had been saving up money for you.

JJ panicked. “Wait—babe, no, no, don’t cry—”

You sniffled, smiling through it. “I just—I can’t believe you did this for me.” A laugh broke through your sniffles as you hugged the paint set to your chest.

JJ softened, thumb reaching out to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “I'd do anythin' for you, angel.”

You pulled him into you, arms locking around his neck, the paint box pressed between both your bodies and JJ held you with ease, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You really remembered?” you whisper-asked into his shoulder, feeling his biceps tighten around you as he pulled you closer into him.

“Of course I did” he murmured, running his warm hand over your back.

check out my other works ! masterlist

[baocean]

piss off your parents

chapter sixteen - low tide

note from the author - DOUBLE UPDATE LETS GO

you sat outside by the fire with sarah, kie, and a few of their friends from the cut.

they’d been talking about some drama, but you had been in and out of the conversation.

you were particularly distracted by the blond a few feet away from you, pushing and laughing with john b.

like he felt you staring, he turned to look at you, then sent a dimpled smile and wink your way.

you smiled back, then turned to sarah just as your phone started to ring.

pulling your phone out, your heart dropped at your mothers face in the contact photo.

you shot up in reaction, taking a few steps away from the laughing girls as you put the phone to your ear.

“yn, get home now.” she didn’t waste a second before scolding you.

“mom-” you went to defend yourself, make up some lie or arguement to get you out of it.

she cut you off, “yn. i’m not doing this with you. get home now or i will come get you.”

the phone line ran dead and you shoved it back in your pocket.

you started your walk up the beach. making matters worse, you watched as jj handed janey a beer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

you’d hoped he wouldn’t see you, or if he did, ignore you and keep his attention on your best friend. but of course, he didn’t, he stopped his movements as he watched you.

“bunny? you good?” he went to pull away from janey, but you shook your head.

“it’s my parents.” was all you said, before you hauled up the back steps and into the house.

jj tried to push the look on your face out of his mind. the girl of his dreams was practically sitting on his lap around the fire. why couldn’t he get you out of his head? this is what you both wanted.

you were in your kitchen, getting screamed at by both your parents, getting told you were an embarrassment, that you were ruining everything your parents had worked for, that you were destroying your future- you couldn’t get your mind off jj, and whatever he was doing with janey right now.

you should be happy for him, really. he was finally gonna get with janey.

and you probably would have been right, if jj hadn’t shut down janey’s offer to find somewhere quieter, practically running off the beach to find the twinkie parked amongst the other cars.

you had been ripped a new one, and after your parents went upstairs, apparently too exhausted to deal with you anymore, you went out to the end of your dock.

there was a low tide, the moon shining on the dark water as you cleaned some tears with your sweatshirt sleeve.

it was beautiful out, some part of you wanted to stay on this little dock forever, staring out at the water as the sound of crickets and the water falling against the sand.

your phone dinged. you didn’t want to check it, it was probably janey texting about how she added someone else, jj specifically, to her body count.

it dinged again, and you blindly reached into your pocket to turn the ringer off. you felt it buzz a few more times, but after a moment or two, it stopped.

you kind of wanted to just tell your parents to shove it and run away to chapel hill. yes, you had some of your own money, money set aside by the grandparents who didn’t totally hate you. but, no way would your parents let you dip into your trust to pay for school.

“fuck, yn. you could check your phone once in a while.”

the disruption of your quiet made you jump, whipping around to see jj walking down the dock.

your eyes flinched up to your parents window, almost like they would sense jj here and come down to yell at you again, but it was dark and motionless. flickering back down to jj, you let out a deep breath, something close to relief entangled.

maybe it was because your parents were asleep and completely unaware, but you were pretty sure it was because jj was here with you, instead of cozied up next to janey.

“by the way, i kind of…scaled your roof to see if you were in your room. your window’s lock is broken now.” he chuckled, sliding into the seat next to you.

“thanks. what are you doing here?” you asked, pulling the hood over your head.

“was worried about you. like, you took off like something was really wrong.” he leaned foward a little to peak around your hood, taking in your features. “you’ve been crying?”

you shook your head, turning it away from his worried look to wipe another sleeve under your eyes.

“they threatened to kick me out and cut me off.” your shoulders shrugged as you laughed, weakly and not at all real.

“well, if you do, you can move in with us. live like a proper pogue.” jj bumped shoulders with you as he joked.

you just looked at him, a regretful look on your face, and his smile dropped. “okay sorry, i don’t really know how to handle stuff like this.”

“can we just sit here?” you asked, turning back towards the water.

“f’course.” he mumbled, slouching against the wood.

without a second thought, and almost by complete accident, your head fell down against his shoulder.

his head laid against yours, then let out a comfortable sigh, like a silent affirmation.

“whatever happens, bunny, you’re going to be okay.”

his phone

her phone

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another note from the author - ive started to incorperate more writing into this series, so just testing things out- if you guys dont like it please let me know!!!

taglist - @dr3amgrlll / @murdockcastleslut / @jjmaybankmylovee / @smokahontas-113 / @abslvrs13 / @enchantedstarfish / @reeseswirl / @lmaowhatt / @moonywhisp3rs / @dylsdaily / @idli-dosa / @bloodofadoll / @cokewithcameron / @mariamadison6-blog / @rrosiitas / @always-reading / @sunflouer04 / @bambigirl10 / @mirellef2001 / @wasiasproject / @bee-43 / @kissesandmartinis / @gublerstylesobrien1238 / @isinpfortvdmen / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @mjwashere / @sideboobrry11 / @ameliacione13 / @wrtzia / @sanriobuny / @dramagodesss / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1

[rafesplaymate]

This is literally Rafe x Glamourmodel!Reader when one of her Playboy spreads’ launches

❀⋆.ೃ࿔ navigation. ❀⋆.ೃ࿔ masterlist.

He gets so lit, cocky and coked out … going to expand on this

[bellfilmz]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Firefighter!rafe x reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When a Halloween party gets out of hand, firefighter Rafe Cameron arrives on scene after a false fire alarm. Ready to leave the chaos behind, his escape is delayed by one very drunk partygoer—you. Oblivious to the fact that Rafe is a real firefighter and not just a guy in costume, you shamelessly flirt with him, calling him a “cute firefighter” and refusing to believe he’s actually on duty. Amused and exasperated, Rafe tries to send you home before the cops arrive, but not before you get his name—and a lasting impression.

The bass thrummed through the walls, shaking the floor beneath your unsteady feet as you stumbled through the crowded Halloween party. You were drunk—drunker than you realized, but in your defense, the jungle juice had tasted suspiciously like fruit punch, and you’d lost count of how many cups you’d downed.

It wasn’t until the flashing red and blue lights outside cast eerie glows through the windows that you realized something was going on. People were shouting, pushing past you in a rush to escape the scene, but you were too tipsy to care.

And then you saw him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in full firefighter gear. A navy-blue shirt with reflective stripes stretched over his chest, and heavy-duty pants clung to his long legs. A real-life, ruggedly handsome firefighter in the middle of this chaotic mess.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath before deciding you needed to get closer.

You weaved through the dispersing crowd, ignoring the frantic energy of the party still raging behind you. The firefighter was speaking into a radio, his voice deep and authoritative, but his face—his face was almost too pretty for someone doing such serious work.

You stumbled slightly, catching yourself on his arm. “Whoa,” you giggled, blinking up at him. “You look… really good in that costume.”

He turned his head slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced down at where your hand rested against his bicep. “It’s not a costume.”

You grinned, unfazed. “Sure it’s not.” You gave his arm a squeeze. “Damn, you even committed to the muscles. Respect.”

He exhaled sharply, clearly trying to keep his patience. “I’m serious. There was a fire report.”

You gasped dramatically. “Oh no! Did you save the day?”

“It was a false alarm,” he muttered. “Now, I need to—”

“You’re, like, really good at staying in character,” you cut in, swaying slightly on your feet. “That grumpy firefighter thing? Super believable. And hot.”

His jaw clenched, but there was a flicker of amusement in his blue eyes. He sighed, glancing past you at the party still spiraling into chaos. The cops were already on their way, and he had no reason to stay, but you were standing there, drunk and starry-eyed, completely oblivious to the fact that he was an actual firefighter trying to do his job.

“Listen,” he started, voice dropping to something softer. “You should probably head home.”

You pouted. “What if I don’t wanna?”

“You really shouldn’t be here when the cops show up.”

“Are you gonna arrest me, fireman?” you teased, swaying closer.

His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smirk. “That’s not my job.”

You tilted your head, studying him through your tipsy haze. “You know, you’d be a really cute firefighter if you were actually one.”

His patience officially snapped. He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.”

You beamed. “I’m serious. You’re, like, distractingly attractive.”

He huffed out a laugh, finally giving in. “And you’re drunk.”

“Guilty as charged.”

A voice crackled through his radio, calling him back. He exhaled, stepping back, but you grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait! What’s your name, sexy firefighter man?”

He hesitated. “Rafe.”

You grinned. “Rafe,” you repeated, like you were testing how it sounded. “I like it.”

He shook his head, amusement flickering across his face. “Go home, party girl.”

And with that, he walked off, leaving you staring after him with a dopey, drunken smile.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[abslvrs13]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

pairing: childhood bsf!reader x jj maybank

summary: you and jj against the world, thats how its always been but now, it seems as if the world was fighting against the two of you and only jj had a chance to stop it. but he couldn't. not when this was happening.

quote: 'nothing left to lose, without my baby'

warnings: a lot of angst, swearing, reader death/killing, alcohol addiction, flashbacks, main part set in season 3, some use of y/n, mentions of blood, foreshadowing, stabbing etc, mild description of murder.

a/n: may cause heartache or crying, im sorry :(( make sure you remember the first part, put it in your brain. ALSO BETTER TO READ IN LIGHT MODE.

7 YEARS OLD. 5,259,600 minutes.

"y'know your holding it completely wrong, jj."

there you were, sat on a wooden chair outside the backyard of john b's house, the chateau. it's what his dad called it, its what big john called it. Big john had always been a second father to you and jj. Your father had never been in the picture, and your mother had always been a workaholic. And, we all know jj's story with luke. "oh, come on!" jj whined, spongebob shirt covered in dirt from the recent activities down by the water. John b laughed mockingly, pointing a finger at jj with a ukulele tucked under the opposite arm.

yes, you were teaching them your most loved hobby.

"dude, your holding it upside down!" john b's high pitched words made jj pout and flip the ukulele around. You stood up, shorter than both of the boys but did they care? nope. "okay, look, you wrap your fingers round the top part and then the other one flicks the strings, got it?" you grabbed his wrist gently and placed it in the correct area.

jj nodded, eyes on his fingers while the blonde locks of hair fell in front of his face. "ugh, y/n my hair! i can't!" he whined once again, his head propping back up. you sighed and grabbed your hair tie, chunking his hair up and tying it onto the top of his head, making john b laugh harder.

you clapped your hands together enthusiastically, smiling with your rows of small teeth, some growing in and some still waiting to be pulled out. "okay, better?" you asked jj, putting a hand on your little hip. he nodded and went back to trying to put his fingers in the right place, unphased by the makeshift ponytail on the top of his head.

"Kids?"

Big john shouted, trudging his feet across the uncut lawn with a smile on his face, a very ancient looking piece of paper in his hand. "whats that, dad?" john b questioned, placing the ukulele on the outdoor table and swiping a curl out of his face, walking toward his father with curious eyes.

"jj, y/n c'mere i got a story" big john waved the two of you over, getting down on one knee to be level with all of you. When you and jj walked over there, you gasped and looked at big john. "Is it about unicorns?"

JJ chuckled and shook his head. "no! unicorns aren't real, dude"

you furrowed your small brows at him, lips forming into a pout. "yes they are!"

john b huffed. "stop arguing, dudes" he spoke sassily, crossing his arms and shifting his attention back to big john. Big john chuckled at the three of you and then nodded his head, adjusting his glasses. "this," he pointed to the map. "this is a treasure map, but it's not just any treasure map."

"what is it then?" jj asked, tilting his head, voice laced with interest.

"the golden merchant.."

little did you all know, this paper, this map, this plan? could change everything.

16 YEARS OLD. 525,600 minutes.

"and then- then he was like, bam!, then he did like, a flip! boom, the guy is knocked out blue. " jj rambled from the messy kitchen to pope and john b who probably weren't even listening. you and kie in the living room, creating friendship bracelets. "its 'knocked out cold', jj" you corrected, not looking up from the bracelet.

"ah, knocked out cold- then he was.." jj continued and continued, making you sigh and turn to kiara. "so, we're still doing a barbeque tonight, right?" With a questioning look on her face, kie looked up. "this place has a grill? and food?" she asked sarcastically, smiling cheekily.

"uh huh, crazy right?" you chuckled, tying off the last part of the bracelet. kie nodded, continuing her own. "JJ, c'mere dude" you half-shouted toward him, making his head snap toward you. "hmm?" he slid off the counter he was sitting on, beer bottle loosely hung in his hand as he made his way over.

you shifted on the couch, leaning on the backrest as you held out a bracelet, specifically reggae colors for him. "here ya go." you grabbed his wrist gently and tied the bracelet onto his wrist (which was already occupied with multiple others)

"oh, why thank you." he tipped his beer toward you, smiling- actually smiling. He loved when you made those for him and only him. Not kie, Not john b, Not pope. Him. "mmhm" you hummed, lips in a small smile as he observed the different colored bracelet.

"i got a whole wrist of em" he wiggled his fingers in front of his wrist, at least 3-6 different colors and different shaped bracelets covering some of his skin. some matching with you, some with john b, or some he stole from crappy stores.

"mmhm, and you ain't ever taking them off, right?" you teased, tilting your head with a little smile.

"you bet." he twirled around on his heels and moved his way back to the kitchen. you smiled, watching him before moving to face kie again. "m'kay, so, we still gotta go to the store to buy burger patties because my mama gave me some money, also we gotta bring jj, we need em for the stealing beer part"

…

"when were burgers invented?" jj asked out of nowhere, biting a whole chunk out of a hamburger. “uh, no idea.” John b spoke, laying a bun on the burger Pattie. Pope, ever so smart, answered easily.

“people are still debating but close to the 1900’s, near there.”

JJ nodded, making a ‘mm’ sound when he swallowed the food. “y/n, you got some sort of magic? Cause this shit is to die for.” you swallowed your burger and looked at him, crossing your ankles on the table. “you’d die for a burger?” You chuckled, making him smile. “Duh, y’know what else I’d die for?”

“hm?”

“you.”

His words made your heart skip a beat. Is he for real? You didn’t know. But, you’d do the exact same. “well I’d die for you too, maybank” you placed the burger on the paper plate, wiping small crumbs off your shirt. “And we’ll always be together, like- no fuckin falling apart, no cliche shit” he added.

“promise?”

“I promise.”

It sounded playful- to the pogues. But the look on your face, no, the look on JJ’s face? said the truth. You both promised.

but do promises always get kept?

17 YEARS OLD. 2,880 minutes

yes, it'd been a long year.

a year filled with mysteries, near death experiences and most importantly, gold. To be specific, the golden merchant. the one thing john b had been keeping most of his focus on. To either find his dad- which he did, and the gold- what his father wanted to find. And of course, he isn't doing it alone.

"Dude, where are they?" jj rasped, stood on the concrete of the runway beside you. John b sarah and kie in front of you two. "i dont know." john b sighed, running his fingers through his dirty curls. "We should get em, we should get in the twinkie and go get em," jj almost shouted, pointing a finger at the van.

"hey, there's pope and cleo." sarah turned toward the sound of a motorcycle engine. there they were, pope and cleo. "god." jj muttered, slinging his hand down to pick up his travel bag. "you guys waiting for us?" cleo shouted over the engine, arms wrapped around popes waist.

"yes we were, you're late." you said, throwing your hair up in a real messy bun, hair tie between your teeth as you got your hair bunched up. jj turns to pope and cleo, exhaling. "now did you actually convince your pops this time or.."

pope got off the bike, chucking a thumb toward cleo. "cleo convinced em"

jj hummed, clasping hands with cleo. "mmhm, that's it, that's what i'm talkin bout"

"okay, let's get on this..plane."

"its a jet, jj" you corrected.

The jet passes over wild tree covered mountains, the area specifically named, 'Orinoco basin'. It'd been a whole 12 hours, you'd all slept and now all of you are on the way to find john b's dad, and to find the golden merchant. "So tres rocas, that's where Neville said he would find the guy." john b said, sat on the leather seat of the jet, map in hand.

"Solona. that's the archaeological site."

you sat on the seat beside sarah, jj on your side- dead asleep. his head on your shoulder as he snored under his breath. He’d fallen asleep about 1 hour into the flight and you couldn’t do a thing to get him up.

while john b continued his rambling & his plan, you just focused on the clouds outside the window- what if something happened? What if someone got hurt? What if there is no gold? What is big john is already dead? What if-

“your doing that thing again.” sarah’s voice ran through your ears, making the repeated thoughts come to a end, your head moving over to the blonde. “what thing?” you spoke quietly, afraid you’d wake up JJ.

“the thing where you doze off and overthink.” Sarah answered, her tone suggestive- as if she could see right through you.

which she could. Because you were doing the thing.

“yeah it’s just, I hope big John’s okay. I hope you guys will be okay.” there it was, the thing you always did. The thing JJ noticed years ago. You never cared about yourself or what would or could happen to you.

“what about yourself?” sarah crossed one leg across the other, leaning forward absentmindedly.

“oh, me? I’m fine, I got this one.” you tried shrugging her concern off with a joke and a thumb chucked toward jj- still sleeping- beside you.

Sarah hummed, nodding and shifting her focus back to her boyfriend.

finally, an hour later, the plane came to a stop and you woke up JJ with a slap to the bicep and a little pinch on his cheek. all of you exited the plan one by one, JJ still walking with a lazy sway.

“ugh, y/n, my hair.” he pouted. god, and the not so subtle whine- it reminded you of years ago. Ukulele lessons and all that..

you snorted looking at him with a hand on your forehead, blocking the brightness of the sun with the back of your hand. “what? ya want a little ponytail?”

he nodded eagerly with exaggerated excitement, already bunching up a little bit of his hair. “mmhm.”

“alright, alright” you smiled, grabbing a black hair tie from your wrist and getting on your tippy toes to tie a fast pointy tail onto the top of his head, making him chuckle.

“he looks like a kid again,” John b chimed in, walking beside JJ with a backpack slung around his one shoulder.

“oh shut up i need somebody to be my hairdresser, duh” he made a dramatic sway with his hip, tilting his head up and making a loud sigh. …

“we gotta split up and I know it sounds stupid but we have to.” John b spoke, leaned against a tree with his hand clasped around his backpack strap.

“what?”

“No, hell no.”

John b sighed, obviously expecting that answer. “no, no- I’m saying we go in groups of two. Pope and Cleo. Y/n and JJ. me and Sarah. You all make sure nobody’s following- me and Sarah will do the big deal, please- I know it’ll work.”

15 minutes.

jj held up his machete like it was a shotgun, aimed toward ward. Sarah and the others all surrounded near the edge of a cliff, trees filled with outgrown vines, and the chime of crickets.

“Sarah, just- just give me the gold, and it will all be over.” ward pleaded, feigning innocence. no, he wasn’t innocent. Not at all.

“No. We found it. We keep it.” John b chimed in, stepping up next to Sarah. “god.” ward whispered to himself it seemed, pulling the trigger of his pistol and raising it to John bs chest with shaky hands.

Your eyes widened, about to step in when JJ grabbed your wrist and pulled you back with a firm grip. “stop.” He whispered through gritted teeth, eyes on you with an intensity that made you go silent immediately.

“dad, stop.” Sarah spoke while stepping infront of John b, lifting her hand to grab the skin of her father’s wrist. ward froze, eyes widening as he opened and closed his mouth.

Sarah grabbed the barrel of the gun and placed the tip of it on her chest, looking at her father. “If you’re going to shoot anyone, let it be me.”

but then, another voice joined in. raspy, cold and low. “wait a minute, ward.”

All of it. All the voices. All the people. All the tension. It all elevated into something you’d never expect. First, It was Sarah holding a loaded gun to her chest, then it was a new man coming into the already crazy area, then it was ward running toward one of Singh’s men, a gun getting shot into the air and into his chest while the other men ran him down toward the edge of the cliff.

but something did happen. Something nobody noticed until ward had been knocked dead onto the jungle floor. When that man had been running and shooting a gun, a bullet did not just only enter wards body.

It also entered yours.

it all hit you when you felt as if you needed water. Like you needed it in one instant or you’d collapse. But, it wasn’t water you needed. You brought your dirty, shaky hands down to your abdomen where there was some sort of clenched feeling, holding your breath while stood beside JJ- who was staring down at the two dead men at the bottom of the cliff.

Did he know yet? No.

Did any of them know? No.

when your skin touches the fabric of your shorts, you felt it. The blood. And you could smell it. The metallic scent. your eyes widened when you looked down- the hole in your jean shorts, the blood slowly seeping out of the fabric and skin. The pain shooting through every section of your already aching body. your eyesight blurred around the edges, making your brain feel fuzzy inside.

that’s when JJ noticed.

and then John b.

And then everyone else.

JJ froze. Like literally. His hands went still, his body wasn’t moving- not one bit. The only thing that was moving was his face. His mouth. His eyes. His eyebrows- but you couldn’t see it. It was like the only thing you could see was the blurry, blonde color of his hair.

then, your knees buckled, JJ caught you before you could collapse to the floor and rushed to sit you down against one of the tall trees, making you groan when the pain increased and increased in your abdomen.

“hey, breathe, it’s fine- just a scratch, yeah, right? Right pope?!” He shouted toward pope, his fingers trembling as he ripped a piece of fabric from his greasy shirt.

Pope didn’t answer. He just kept pacing and pacing while talking to himself- ‘we don’t have any service here, there’s no hospital near here, we’re done. We’re done. We’re done.”

JJ sniffed and looked back at you with wide, panicked eyes. He looked at your already weak face and you could just barely see the little beads of tears on the rims of his eyes.

7 minutes.

It felt like time had all paused in that agonizing moment. For him, the world seemed to have just narrowed down to you and him. It’d been only one minute since he saw the blood but it feels as if it’s been a whole life time. His breathing is labored, his chin won’t stop wobbling And tears have already stumbled there way out of his eyes. his lungs won’t seem to work.

You blink up at him, eyes blurring with now darkness. He looks at you- you’re too fucking pale, you’re dying but he won’t admit it. He can’t. His hair falls infront of his face, the hair tie had already fallen out from all the running and you’d picked it up and snapped it back onto your wrist.

a small, weak smile came to your lips and a shuddering breath left your throat. “y/n, my hair..” you mocked with amusement- half sadness though it just made jjs tears fall harder. Faster.

“shut up..” He whispered and continued applying pressure to the wound. He hated how you sounded as if you were giving up. Breaking the promise.

But the blood would not stop.

5 minutes.

JJ whipped his head back, jaw clenched and teeth gritted so hard John b swore he could hear the sound of teeth against teeth. “Somebody do something! Now! Don’t just stand there!” he tried being loud. He really did. But every word just had a small crack.

“we’re trying, okay?” John b shouted, crouched beside JJ while searching through his backpack with trembling hands. He didn’t want to lose you- nobody did. You didn’t deserve it. Not at all.

you could feel the panic coming from them. The desperation. But you couldn’t hear it. You could only hear the ringing in your ears and just muffled voices. And the pain? The pain was too much. It felt as if the bullet was hitting you again and again each time the pain shot through your body.

“you just gotta- you gotta breath..please, I’ll help- I’ll help you yeah?” JJ rambled, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. But it wouldn’t stop. and you couldn’t hear him- you could only feel his shaky hands. That’s all.

“I ca-“ you tried, the attempt making your throat squeeze. Blood clotted up to your mouth in which you couldn’t swallow down. You coughed, blood dribbling down the corner of your lip. jjs eyes widened, his breathing fastening. He wiped the blood from your lip with his thumb, a choked sound- like a groan and a sob- left his throat as he realized.

There’s no hospital near here. No doctors. Not fucking anybody.

“please don’t- don’t leave.” he started. “you promised. We both did.” he sniffed, wiping his blood- your blood- covered hand against his cheek to wipe a few tears.

1 minute.

pope watched frozen. Silent. His hands barely shaking as tears silently left his eyes. He watched JJ- back to him, his shoulders shaking almost at the same pace as his heart with sobs. He looked worse than the time in the hot tub, bruises scattered across his skin. And who was there? You. Who made him feel better? You. And now? JJ couldn't do anything. Nothing to make you feel better, to make the wound go away.

50 seconds.

“you promised. you did!-“ he stopped. Dry sobs leaving his throat. He looked directly at your face. Your eyes closed but your chest still slightly rising and falling- but barely. Not enough. “you promised..” he whispered. Quieter. Hushed.

you don’t respond. your eyes remain shut, breathing becoming more labored.

Terror squeezes JJ’s chest, gripping him like a vice. He shifts, cradling your head in his lap as he adds pressure against the wound in a futile attempt to stanch the bleeding.

“No, no, no,” he murmurs, stroking your face, your hair. His hands shaking violently. “You don’t get to do this, you don’t get to leave me, do you understand? You don’t get to leave me.”

45 seconds.

JJ reached toward your wrist, grabbing all 4 of your bracelets with trembling hands, his shoulders still shaking. “your going to be okay.” He whispered. Either to himself or to you, he didn’t know. He slid your bracelets onto his wrist and watched your limp body- slumped against the tree.

You looked like you were sleeping. God, he wished you were. But you weren’t-

JJ’s dreams and wishes never came true. He’d always wanted a normal life- he never said that. He’d always wanted a mother. He’d never admit it. He’d always wanted a surf trip with you. He never got that. He never will. And most importantly? He will never have you. He’ll never get to say that he loves you.

Or will he?

“I love you.” He said. It sounded Iike a question. Not to himself. Not to you. It sounded desperate- like his words would make you come back and tie up his hair, like usual.

And somehow, it did. Not the way he wished it would be- you coming back- but, you answered. “I love..you too.” you whispered. Weakly- it sounded so weak. But he knew you meant it. He always trusted you.

5 seconds.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, breath shuddering as he watched your chest stop. It stopped moving. JJ held his breath and lifted his hand just as your head lolled to the side. He rushed to check your pulse, holding it there for 3 seconds. Your gone. Your gone.

“No. No- John b..she’s not. She’s not dead. She was just..just” He trailed off, hands falling to his side, head dropping down to the floor as he squeezed his eyes shut- pinching his leg to see if this was actually real. He wishes it was.

But his dreams and wishes never come true.

and now that you're gone? he doesn't have any more dreams.

he only has nightmares.

[arietem]

yoga with jj

masterlist

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: you decide to try out yoga on a hot summer day. and you do so on the porch in front of jj

light smut and suggestive content

You've always wanted to try out hot yoga, but you've never actually had the patience for it. So, when the first really hot day of the summer came around, you decide it's the perfect time to whip out your mat and try some moves on the porch. Your outfit of choice for the workout is a set of cute lilac shorts and a lilac sports bra. The shorts are really short and the bra is really skimpy but it's summer and you're on the beach all the time anyway, so who cares?

JJ is tinkering with his bike over in the backyard, shirtless and glistening with sweat. Okay, you may have ulterior motives with your morning yoga sesh. Who can blame you when he looks like that? He's taunting you with his divine abs and his lean back muscles. It's only fair you return the favor by stretching in almost nothing in his line of vision.

You walk out of the house with your mat under your arm and choose a spot in the center of the porch. It is a perfect vantage point for you to see JJ and for him to see you. First, you take a few deep breaths and reach your arms high above you, standing on the tips of your toes to really feel the deep stretch in your whole body. With each move, you feel the muscles beneath your skin shifting and the tension seeping out.

You can tell JJ notices what you're doing by the way his hands slow down and his head turns ever so slightly to get a better look. He takes off his hat to shake out his hair with his fingers and puts the hat back on backward. Looking at him like this, all shiny and breathless from the exertion makes you tingly from the top of your head all the way to the bottom of your feet.

When you know you have JJ's attention, you turn around so your back is facing him. Seemingly ignoring him, you slowly bend down into the downward dog position, your face down and your ass high up in the air. You know you look good from behind, your legs long and skin tanned, the color of your workout set perfectly accentuating the way the sun hits you.

After a minute or two in that pose, your muscles feel warm enough to continue on with some tougher positions. Your core is feeling strong and stable and you can feel a droplet of sweat traveling down your spine. This hot yoga workout is starting to get really hot. Especially since you can see JJ through your legs, still working on that damn bike, looking so good you could just lick him.

You extend one of your legs in the air, bending the knee so you can almost touch your head with your pointed toes. Your breathing is more labored now and you're getting hotter and hotter, the heat traveling throughout your whole body. Switching legs, you moan a little when you stretch out, this side feeling much tighter.

JJ must have lost his composure behind you because you can hear some tools falling from his hands and his semi-quiet cursing. You smile to yourself because you have him exactly where you want him. Taking quick strides across the yard, JJ stops behind you, his front pressed tightly against you. You can feel his excitement through both of your shorts and you wiggle your ass slightly. JJ groans and digs his fingers into your hips.

Done with your workout, for now, you straighten up. "I loved the show, baby," JJ whispers in your ear and goosebumps erupt all over your skin. He ruts against you more from behind and you gasp softly, reveling in the feeling. "You feel how hard you're making me, huh?"

You spin around so you can face him when you cup his dick over his shorts. He bites his lip and flutters his eyelashes slightly. You have absolutely no idea how can someone be so adorable and so fuckable at the same time. JJ makes you wetter than anybody ever has before and makes you want to give him the world at the same damn time.

You reach out to clasp your hands behind his neck, playing with the soft hair there. Leaning forward slightly, you lick a strip from his collarbone all the way to his ear. The sweat on his body shouldn't turn you on that much but here you are, licking off the salty drops like he's an oasis in the desert.

"Feel how wet you make me, JJ," you said looking up into his baby blues. Letting go of his neck, you take one of his hands from your lower back and guide it to the front of your workout shorts. The moisture seeping through them is definitely not sweat. Locking your fingers with his, you take it up a notch by dragging your connected hands inside your underwear.

JJ sucks in a breath when your joined fingers start gliding through your slick folds, slowly circling your clit. You are progressively getting weaker in the knees, each brush of finger on your most sensitive spot sending little shockwaves through you.

"You're killing me here, baby," JJ whimpers in your ear, pushing his finger with yours deep inside you. A moan escapes your mouth, spurring him on. His other hand comes to rest on your ass, squeezing it and tapping it playfully.

While looking him straight into his eyes, you free your hand from your panties and put one shiny, slick finger on his bottom lip. "What do I taste like, Jay?" you ask him, your voice raspy.

"You taste like what I imagine heaven feels like. Like the best damn thing I ever had." He takes his hand out of your underwear and smirks at you, his dimple flashing like a billboard inviting you to sin.

"Now I'll show you what happens when you tease me with your little yoga thing." With a devilish lick of his lips, JJ scoops you up in one smooth motion and throws you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom.

[evcrmoresworld]

fifteen minutes 𐙚

Rafe Cameron x Reader (Best Friend’s Sister) Explicit (18+) warnings! oral (m receiving), rough dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, possessiveness, degradation kink, explicit language

The shower turns on down the hall, the low rush of water echoing through the house.

You're curled up on your bed, scrolling your phone like you’re not completely on edge with Rafe downstairs and your brother oblivious...again.

The door creaks.

You look up.

And there he is, already locking it behind him, already smirking like he’s got you right where he wants you.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes,” Rafe says lowly, already toeing off his shoes. “Maybe less.”

Your stomach flips. “Are you insane?”

He’s walking toward you like he didn’t hear that. His shirt’s half-unbuttoned, his hair still damp from the beach, and the look in his eyes? Devouring.

“Don’t care,” he mutters. “Been thinking about your mouth all goddamn day.”

“Rafe—”

“No time for that innocent shit.” He grabs your chin, thumb brushing your bottom lip before he leans in, voice hot against your mouth. “On your knees. Now.”

Your breath hitches, thighs clenching, but you slide off the bed and onto the floor like muscle memory. He watches you with that look, already unbuckling his belt.

“You like sneaking around, huh?” he mutters, voice rough. “Like knowing your brother’s right there while you suck me off?”

You whimper.

He chuckles, dark and low. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You reach for him and he catches your hand, grip tight.

“No hands.” He fists your hair and guides your face toward his cock, pulling it out already hard and heavy. “Mouth only. Let me see how much you missed me.”

You open your mouth, and he doesn’t waste time, sliding in with a hiss, the weight of him on your tongue almost enough to make your eyes water.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, head tipping back. “Always so good for me.”

You start moving, slow at first, then deeper, letting him guide the pace. His hand stays firm in your hair, controlling, dragging a moan from you every time he fucks just a little deeper into your throat.

“Look at you,” he breathes, eyes locked on yours. “On your knees for me like a fucking angel. My best friend’s little sister. Such a dirty fucking secret.”

You moan around him, and he groans in response, his hips twitching.

“God, I could live in this mouth.” He thumbs your cheek, watching the bulge as he presses deeper. “So pretty when you choke for me.”

Then—

Footsteps.

You freeze. The water’s still running, but your brother’s moving. Too close.

Rafe’s hand tightens in your hair, forcing your eyes up. “Don’t stop. He won’t check in here.”

You whimper, but you keep going, heart pounding, breath catching, spit pooling.

“That’s my girl,” Rafe growls. “So fucking good for me. So desperate. Bet you’re soaked right now just knowing we could get caught.”

He pulls you off him for a second, your lips wet and swollen, breathing hard. He tilts your chin up, dragging a thumb across your mouth.

“Look at you. Ruined.”

You hear a door shut, your brother back in the bathroom maybe, or his room, but still close.

Rafe watches you, then grabs your face again, guiding himself back into your mouth with a growl.

“Finish what you started, baby.”

You do. Desperate and messy and silent except for the sound of your lips on him, your throat tightening around every thrust, and his low curses.

When he comes, it’s with a ragged groan and his hands tight in your hair, hips shuddering.

He pulls out slowly, chest rising and falling hard. You’re blinking up at him, mouth still parted, breathless.

He kneels, wipes your lip with his thumb, and kisses you, filthy and fast.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “No matter who’s in the next room.”

You don't say anything.

You don't have to.

You both already know.

[lalaloopsieparty]

Paradise…War Zone 19

this chapter contains written story at the end!

Paradise…War Zone master list~

“Thank you for…I don’t know, getting me away from there I guess.”

Rafe looks at you with a half concerned half guilty look, like he’s trying to simultaneously apologize and check up on you. His lip is split—nothing compared to the state of Zack’s face.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

You let out a small laugh, one that lacks any actual enjoyment or humor.

“Please stop apologizing.”

“I won’t until you understand just how fucking sorry I really am.”

You look up at him and instantly feel that familiar sting of tears in your eyes.

“Who was she?”

“Who was who?”

“The girl you saw Zack with.”

Rafe pauses, not exactly knowing what to say. What do you say to the girl you’re in love with when you just caught her boyfriend cheating?

“I don’t know who she is, honestly don’t recognize her at all. She’s blonde and…tan, I guess?”

You let out another dry laugh, your voice catches slightly at the end of it.

“Great.”

That’s all you can say before the overwhelming feeling of utter disgust fills your mouth, your heart feeling like it’s in your lungs and aching to free itself from the confines of your body. The tears come soon after that, your cheeks burning from the feelings swarming through your head. You’ve barely been dating a month and he’s already on another bitch?

Rafe doesn’t hesitate, his arms immediately wrapping around you and pulling you close. You should push him away—the man isn’t exactly innocent—but you don’t. Instead you cover your face with your hands and bury your head into the comfort of his cotton t-shirt. Rafe simply holds you. Not speaking or pulling away, just holding you in his arms and rubbing your back. It kills him inside to see you cry and the sudden fear that he’s made you feel like this before runs through his veins.

“You can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t, just stay with me. Please.”

It’s a soft whisper into the fabric of his shirt, the tears still streaming down your cheeks. Rafe nods and continues to hold you until you calm down more. He’d spend the entire night just holding you and comforting you if he had to. Despite the circumstances and the past, this felt right. Being in Rafe’s arms with only the sound of crickets chirping in the background.

a/n: Decided to try out some actual written story, please let me know if we like it and want more🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Taglist (Closed)~

@rafecameronswhoore @wintercrows @ietss @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @lilithblackkk @lmaowhatt @drewstarkeyslover @leleee3 @lolasangelz @yktayy9669 @sassyvilliantrope @cokewithcameron @lvxstarr @bambigirl10 @furiouscopshepherduniversity @mysticbby2009 @jjasmiineee @letstryagaintomorrow @my-name-is-baby @congratsloserr @isinpfortvdmen @sleepiibunniiii @wtfisastiles @countryclubwhore @lili-swagalicious @hypnotizedstarkey @bee-43 @moonywhisp3rs @ummmeg @dramagodesss @harryzcherry @kaiparkerwifes @davinashifts333

[sweet4rafe]

BUTTONED UP ˎˊ˗

summary: rafe’s always seen you as the quiet, modest farm girl, pretty in your sundresses, always polite. but when he catches you sneaking off behind the shed with your notebook full of very unholy fantasies, he decides to help you act some of them out.

you weren’t trying to get caught.

it was supposed to be a quick break, just you and your little leather notebook, tucked behind the toolshed where nobody ever goes. the grass tickled your thighs where your dress rode up, but you didn’t care. the air was warm, and the ink flowed easy from your pen.

you had just written, “his hands are rough, but he touches her like she’s made of something sweet”, when a shadow dropped over your page.

“the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

you flinched so hard your notebook damn near flew. and of all people, it had to be him.

rafe cameron stood there with a lazy smirk, arms crossed, cowboy hat tilted back just enough to let those pretty eyes linger all over you. he was shirtless, again. and he knew what that did to you.

you scrambled to sit up, tugging your dress down. “were you—were you spying on me?”

“nah,” he said, slow drawl dripping with amusement. “just came to get the hedge clippers. didn’t know i’d find you out here writin’ porn in the dirt.”

“it’s not porn,” you snapped, heat flooding your face.

he raised an eyebrow, reaching down to pluck the notebook right out of your hands. “mm. sure about that?”

“rafe,” you warned, standing up to grab it back. he held it over his head.

“lemme see what the innocent little farm girl’s got goin’ on in that dirty brain,” he teased, flipping through the pages, reading lines out loud in that stupid deep voice of his. “he smells like sweat and summer, his fingers make her forget her own name.. damn, sweetheart.”

you reached up again. “give it back!”

but he caught your wrist, tugging you close.

“didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

“i don’t!”

he leaned in. “really?” his breath tickled your ear. “then who the hell you writin’ about, huh? any other cowboys ‘round here got you this bothered?”

you swallowed. your thighs clenched without meaning to.

rafe noticed.

“jesus,” he muttered, laughing under his breath. “you gettin’ worked up just from me readin this?”

“shut up,” you whispered, embarrassed and burning.

he looked at you for a long second, long enough for your stomach to flip.

then, gentle as ever, he handed the notebook back.

“you ever wanna know what those lines feel like instead’a readin’ ‘em,” he said, voice low, thumb brushing your knuckles, “you just let me know."

you just stood there, notebook clutched to your chest like it could shield you from him. but rafe didn’t move, didn’t blink, just looked at you like he could read your thoughts without needing the pages.

“well?” he asked, voice a little quieter now. “you wanna know?”

your breath caught. “know what?”

he smiled, but it wasn’t cocky. more like… he already knew what your answer was. like he’d just been waiting for you to catch up.

“what it feels like,” he said simply. “all that stuff you wrote.”

your heart beat so hard you were sure he could hear it.

“i—i don’t…” you looked down, twisting your fingers in the hem of your dress. “i’ve never—”

“i know,” he said, voice gentle now. “you ain’t gotta say it.”

he stepped a little closer, and your back hit the shed wall. his hand came up, rough palm cupping your jaw so carefully, like he was scared to spook you.

“i’d be soft with you, baby,” he murmured. “slow. let you feel it all.”

his other hand settled on your waist, fingers splayed wide over the cotton of your dress. not moving. not rushing. just holding you there.

and that’s when it hit you; he wasn’t teasing anymore.

rafe was serious. not just with his words but with his eyes, clear, steady, like he wasn’t just looking at your body, but straight through it. through all the little walls you built around yourself, all the wide eyed stammering and fake confidence.

“you don’t gotta do nothin’,” he whispered, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “but i’d take care of you. promise.”

you could barely breathe.

your head nodded before your mouth caught up. “okay,” you whispered. “okay…”

and when his lips finally met yours, warm, slow, tasting like mint and summer heat, you finally understood the line you’d written. the one about forgetting your name.

because all that existed in that moment was him.

and the soft press of his hands.

and the way you already wanted more.

june's angels : @stoned-writer , @alphabetically-deranged

[lustrafe]

Ex!Rafe thoughts NSFW

Ex!Rafe, who can't stop calling your phone after the breakup. He begs on the phone for you to take him back. Telling you he’d do anything for you to come back to him.

Ex!Rafe, who comes over to your house and eats you out, asking in between breaths if you’ll take him back now, slick still covering his face as he looks up with puppy eyes from in between your legs.

Ex!Rafe, who comes over religiously to fuck you and ask if you want him back now. Thinking the more orgasms he gives you, the more likely you are to mumble in your fucked-out state that you love him.

[bbyg4rl]

INTRODUCING. . . CARPENTER!JJ

cedarwood.     muddy boots.     denim.     aftershave.    sawdust.     flannel.     woodsmoke.     worn leather.     

carpenter!jj . . . who smells like wood shavings, warm skin, and that subtle, masculine cologne he doesn’t remember the name of.

carpenter!jj . . . who drives a beat-up truck with plywood in the back and a glove compartment full of mismatched nails, energy bar wrappers and an old pocketknife.

carpenter!jj . . . who drinks coffee black in the morning, sweet tea in the afternoon, and a beer as soon as the sun goes down, and the shit he eats? day-old sausage biscuit, protein bars, jerky, trail mix, half a sandwich wrapped in crumpled paper, maybe a banana if he’s feeling healthy.

carpenter!jj . . . who's knuckles are always a little scraped up, and there’s usually a fresh smear of dried paint, dirt, or sawdust he forgot to wash off. his fingers are calloused and strong, scarred from split wood and a few too many close calls with power tools.

carpenter!jj . . . who's the guy people call when storms are coming—knows how to tarp a roof, board a window, and stay calm while everyone else panics. everyone’s got a “jj helped me” story. he’s rough around the edges, maybe a little too loud at the gas station, but dependable as hell when something needs fixing.

carpenter!jj . . . who helps out old ladies for free, fixing their fences or squeaky doors, and waves it off like it’s no big deal. “Just doing my job,” he’d say, as they hand him cookies and call him their favorite. he's the local cougar magnet, every woman over 35 knows carpentry isnt the only thing he does well.

carpenter!jj . . . who's tool belt always carries a rusted-ass box cutter, a random mix of nails, screws, and washers, two lighters and condoms, because you never know.

CARPENTER!JJ WORKS BELOW ↓

to be updated !