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k2padfoot · 11 days ago

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Let Me Show You

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: Your relationship with Rafe is complicated, but you’re always there when he calls. After another explosive fight with Ward, you decide it’s time to show him what real love feels like.

warnings: SMUT!! Parental abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

Your relationship with Rafe was complicated, to say the least. For months now, the two of you had been caught in this undefined space of not quite official, but undeniably more than casual. Rafe had always been guarded, struggling to let anyone get too close, but you kept trying. You couldn’t help it. Most of your friends couldn’t stand the idea of you being around him. They didn’t get it. They didn’t get him. But you did. You saw past the tough exterior, the anger, the mistakes. You saw the broken pieces he worked so hard to keep together. And Rafe? He understood you in ways no one else did. It was like you were two halves of the same puzzle, fitting together in a way that made sense to you both, even if no one else could see it.

You’d been here before, parked outside the Cameron home in the middle of the night, your hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. This wasn’t the first time you’d shown up at Rafe’s after a bad night, but something about tonight felt different. Worse.

The wind carried a hint of salt from the ocean, the sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance. But the house was quiet, almost too quiet. The kind of silence that felt heavy, like it was pressing down on your chest.

You turned the engine off and sat there for a moment, your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You weren’t sure what you’d find, but you couldn’t shake the image of Rafe’s face the last time you had to come here — the way his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you hadn’t seen before.

Your hand trembled as you reached for the door handle. You knew what he was dealing with, at least most of it. Ward Cameron wasn’t the picture-perfect father he liked to pretend to be. Behind closed doors, the mask slipped, revealing a side of him that was cold, controlling… abusive.

You stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching under your feet as you made your way to the side entrance, the one Rafe always left open for you. You pushed the door and slipped inside, the house dark and eerily still. You moved quietly through the halls, the only sound your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his bare shoulders hunched, a fresh bruise blooming across his cheekbone. He didn’t notice you at first, his head bowed as he stared down at his fists.

“Rafe,” you called softly, and his head jerked up, eyes wide and wild for a moment before he recognized you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You took a step closer, your heart aching at the sight of him. “I came to see if you were okay,” you replied. “I—I was worried, I saw your text about Ward.”

He snorted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be. I’m fine.”

But you could see the way his hands shook, the way his breath hitched, and you knew he was anything but fine.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice soft, cautious.

He looked away, his jaw clenching, and you could see the way his shoulders tensed, like he was trying to hold himself together, piece by piece.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his voice tight. “Just… my dad being my dad.”

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Rafe,” you pressed, “Tell me the truth. What did he do?”

Rafe flinched at your touch, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, but then his shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him.

“He just.. he lost it again,” Rafe admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Started yelling about how I’m a disappointment, how I’m ruining everything, the usual right?”

Your heart clenched at the pain in his voice, the way he spoke like he was used to this, like it was just another day in the Cameron household. You knew Ward had a temper, but it was more than that. It was the way he tore into Rafe, the way he belittled him, made him feel like he was worth nothing. And sometimes, it was worse than just words.

“And then he hit you,” you said quietly, your eyes tracing the bruise on his cheek.

Rafe shrugged, a bitter smile on his lips. “He’s done worse,” he muttered.

You felt anger flare up inside you, hot and fierce. “He can’t treat you like this,” you snapped. “He’s your father. He’s supposed to protect you, not… not hurt you.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked to yours, something dark and haunted in his gaze. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t exactly see it that way,” he said, his voice hollow. “He thinks he’s teaching me a lesson. Making me tough, making me into a man or whatever bullshit he tells himself.”

You reached out, cupping his face gently, your thumb brushing against the edge of the bruise. He winced but didn’t pull away, his eyes locked on yours.

“He’s wrong,” you whispered, your voice fierce. “You’re not the problem, Rafe. You’re not broken.”

His eyes softened, just a little, and for a moment, you thought he might break down right then and there. But instead, he took a deep breath, his hands coming up to rest on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I don’t know why you care so much, I don’t deserve it” he muttered, but his voice had lost its edge, replaced by something softer, something that sounded almost like hope.

“Because I see you,” you replied. “I see who you really are, and it’s not what he says. It’s never been what he says.”

Rafe’s grip tightened on your waist, his forehead resting against yours. “You make me feel like I’m not worthless,” he murmured. “Like maybe… maybe there’s something good in me.”

“Because there is,” you insisted, your voice firm. “There’s a lot of good in you, Rafe. You just gotta stop believing his lies.”

He closed his eyes, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. “It’s hard,” he admitted, his voice raw. “It’s so fucking hard.”

“I know,” you whispered, your hands moving to his bare back, holding him close. “But you’re stronger than him. You’re better than him.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his body tense against yours. Then, slowly, he relaxed, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “Just stay, please.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” you promised, your hand running through his soft hair. “I’m right here.”

Rafe pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, and you saw the fear there, the vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was different this time — not desperate or wild, but gentle, as if he was afraid you might break.

You kissed him back, your heart breaking for the boy who’d never felt like he was enough. For the boy who’d been taught to believe that love came with conditions and that pain was just part of that deal.

But you wanted to show him different. You wanted to show him that love could be soft, that it could be safe. That he didn’t have to earn it or fight for it, that he was worthy just as he was.

As the kiss deepened, you felt him relax against you, his hands moving up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just you and him, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet understanding that maybe, just maybe, you could heal each other’s broken parts.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were softer, his expression more at peace than you’d seen in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your thumb brushing against his lips. “You don’t have to thank me,” you replied. “I’m here because I care, and I want to show you how much I do.”

You smile, your hand sliding down to take his. “Come upstairs with me,” you say, your voice still soft, but with an invitation to leave all of the chaos behind, if only for a little while.

He hesitates, his fingers tightening around yours, but you give him a gentle squeeze, leading him toward the stairs. “Let me take care of you,” you murmur, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his breath hitch.

As you guide him up the stairs, your steps are slow and unhurried, every movement filled with quiet promises. You glance back at him, giving him a small, reassuring smile, your hand squeezing his just a bit tighter.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you stop in front of his bedroom door, turning to face him. “I just want you to feel loved,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. His eyes search yours again, and this time, there’s a flicker of something softer, sweeter.

You step closer, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, “Let me show you,” you say as your lips hover near his, your breath warm against his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, and you can feel the tension begin to melt away bit by bit as you slowly guide him inside.

You shut the door softly behind the two of you, the faint click of the latch sealing you both inside, away from the rest of the world. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken words and the heat of anticipation. You turn to him, your hand still on his cheek, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

His eyes are still closed, his breath shallow, and for a moment, you just watch him. The way he’s standing there, so vulnerable, makes your heart ache. You know he’s not used to letting his guard down like this, and you don’t want to rush him.

“Are you okay with this?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. You shift a little closer, your bodies almost touching, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt. “Do you want to do this?”

His eyes flutter open, and when he looks at you, there’s something in his gaze that takes your breath away. A mix of longing and something deeper—something you can’t quite put into words.

He swallows hard, and his hands come up to rest on your waist, fingers flexing as if he’s testing the feel of you beneath his touch. “Yes,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “I want this. I want you.”

Your heart skips a beat, a rush of warmth flooding through you. You lean in closer, your lips barely brushing against his as you whisper, “Then you can have me.”

Within seconds his lips crashed into yours with a mix of desperation and need. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you toward the bed. You swiftly turned him around, softly pushing him back on to the bed, crawling over top of him and reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner, “You’re perfect Rafe.” you muttered between kisses, before your lips trailed to his neck and then to his ear. When you placed a gentle bite to his ear a hushed moan escaped his lips.

Quickly he started trailing his own lips on your neck this time, and after placing a few marks he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Take this off for me.” He said in a low tone that sent shivers down your spine.

Gently Rafe pulled off your shirt and to his surprise you weren’t wearing any bra, “Fuck.” He let out a shaky breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So beautiful.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your tits, and without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a low moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Rafe groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Rafe off of your chest, “As much as I want you to keep doing that, please let me take care of you first.” You practically begged.

Rafe smiled up at you, his thumbs softly running gentle circles into your hips. “You know you don’t have too?”

“Rafe, I want too. I want to show you how much I care about you.” You softly spoke, your eyes never leaving his.

You watched as his eyes softened in a way that you’d never seen before, in a way that almost looks like he loves you as much as you love him. ��Please Y/n, that’s all I want,” he pleaded to you.

You smiled at him before leaning in and planting a tender kiss to his lips. Pulling away, you placed your hands onto his bare chest and slowly drug your fingers down his toned abs, earning a small grunt from Rafe’s lips.

Your fingers finally met the edge of his sweats as you curled them around the grey material and slowly pulled the pants and boxers down. A small gasp escaped your lips as his rock hard cock sprung against his lower belly, the precum dripping from his tip having you immediately licking your lips in anticipation.

“God Rafe, you’re unreal.” You said as you sat there admiring him like a piece of art. You bent down planting tender kisses to his lower belly, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of his hips. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” You uttered just before taking his length into your mouth.

“Ohh shit, Y/n.” He cried out as you worked your tongue around his shaft, your head bobbing up and down at an eager pace.

Your swirled your tongue around his tip before taking all of him into your throat, “Don’t stop baby,” Rafe cried out in bliss, his fingers gripping your hair now, “I-I’m close.” You moaned around his cock, sucking harder, faster, and that was all it took before you felt him release into your mouth.

But before he could even catch his breath your hands were gently gliding up his stomach, ascending to his chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to his face. “You’re so special, Rafe.” You whispered, letting your thumb tenderly stroke his bruised cheek.

Rafe’s blue eyes locked on yours, a flicker of intensity flashing within them. “Say that again,” he murmurs, his voice a soft command that sends a shiver through your body.

Your heart clenched at his words. You gazed at him, your eyes brimming with adoration, and with a soft whisper, you repeated the words, capturing his lips in to a passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened, growing more heated with every passing second as Rafe’s hands roamed hungrily over your body. Without breaking away, you hastily shimmied out of your shorts and panties, pressing yourself against him, feeling the sweet friction of his shaft against your aching core.

At the sudden feeling of your slick folds sliding against his cock, a deep moan escaped Rafe’s lips, vibrating through the air before he abruptly broke the kiss. You didn’t stop though, you kept moving against him, your hips grinding in a desperate rhythm as his free hand gently tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes were dark with desire, his mouth parted in a breathless ‘o’ as he stared at you with a raw intensity. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You captured his lips again, moaning softly against them as your hips moved with a deliberate rhythm, grinding even harder against him. Rafe broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Fuck Y/n,” he panted, eyes wild with desire, “Are you trying to kill me?”

A sly smile curved your lips, “Maybe I am,” you murmured teasingly. “You think I should do something about it?”

His hands gripped your waist, his voice almost a growl. “Please,” he pleaded, a mix of frustration and need etched across his face. You felt a rush of emotions at his plea and slowly you wrapped your fingers around his cock, positioning him at your entrance, and with deliberate slowness you began to sink down on him, every inch igniting a fire between you both.

Rafe’s head flew back, a deep guttural groan escaping his throat at the same time a sultry moan left your own lips.

You sank all the way down, taking a moment to feel the closeness before you began to bounce on his cock, the rhythm starting to build as his hands found your tits. He caressed you tenderly, twirling your nipple between his fingers and drawing a soft moan from your mouth. You began to pick up your pace, rocking your hips with more intensity, the air filled with nothing but your combined moans and the sharp, steady sound of skin meeting skin.

“Oh—oh god, you’re so good to me.” Rafe cried out in bliss, his voice thick with emotion. His words almost made you pause, a rush of warmth flowing through you. And without thinking, you answered, “Only for you baby, ohh Rafe.. only for you.”

Without warning, Rafe swiftly flipped you onto your back, taking control as he hovered over you now. His thrusts became urgent, driven by need and pure desire. One hand gripped your hip with a sharp hold, while the other cupped your jaw, guiding your gaze to meet his. “I… I love you,” he managed to utter, his voice laced with emotion.

You felt his words hit you harder than the intensity of his movements. For a second, your breath caught, and your mind spun. Rafe Cameron loves you. It was something you’d never really let yourself believe could happen, and yet here he was, looking at you like you were his entire world. The vulnerability in his eyes stripped away every doubt, every hesitation you might’ve had.

A soft, genuine smile tugged at your lips as you reached up, brushing a hand through his hair and whispering, “I love you too, Rafe.” The way his expression shifted made your heart swell. You could feel the tension between you both change, a new kind of urgency building as his pace quickened.

“Fuck, let go for me baby. Cum all over my cock,” he whispered against your lips. Your body immediately reacted to his words as you let go around him, his own release following closely. Rafe’s chest heaved as he slowly lowered himself beside you, his arm pulling you close so you rested against him, feeling his heartbeat start to steady under your palm. Silence settled around you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a moment suspended in time, a shared quiet that didn’t need words.

He let out a shaky exhale, as though he were finally able to breathe. “You make me feel… different,” he admitted, almost to himself, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back. “Like I’m enough. Even when I’m not proud of who I am, you see me like no one else ever has.” He said, his voice breaking slightly with the weight of his confession.

You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers grazing his cheek. “You are enough, Rafe,” you murmured, your words a promise. “I see every part of you, even the parts you’re scared to show anyone else. And I love you because of it, not in spite of it.” He gazed down at you, his blue eyes softened with an emotion so raw it nearly took your breath away again. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek as he whispered, “I don’t deserve you… but I’m so damn grateful you’re here.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, feeling his arms wrap around you a little tighter. For the first time in a long time, you knew he believed it.

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greengoblinswifey · 7 days ago

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Dark Paradise—JJ Maybank x Pogue!Reader

summary— in a foreign land far from home, you’re forced to say goodbye to your love. as grief consumes you, you cling to the hope that your souls will find each other again, no matter the distance, no matter the life.

warnings— season 4 part 2 spoilers, death, angst.

a/n— still not over JJ’s death, won’t ever be.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

The world around you felt suffocating. The distant sound of the strange land and faint sobs from the others faded into nothingness. All you could hear was your own ragged breathing, choked sobs breaking through as you cradled JJ's lifeless body in your arms.

“JJ, no,” you whispered, voice trembling as your fingers brushed against his face. His skin, once warm and full of life, was cold under your touch. His golden hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead in messy strands that you once loved to push back with teasing affection. “Please, wake up. You always wake up.”

But he didn’t.

You leaned over him, your tears falling onto his face like raindrops. His chest, which had always risen and fallen so rhythmically, stayed still. You couldn’t stop your hands from shaking as you pressed them to his heart. Nothing.

“No, no, no. JJ, you don’t get to do this,” you said, voice cracking, desperation clawing at your throat. You shook him lightly, as though you could jolt him back to life. “You don’t get to leave me. You promised me, JJ. You promised we'd always make it back home.”

But there was no home without him.

The memories came flooding back, crashing into you with the force of a tidal wave. His wild laughter as he leaned against his bike, the wind whipping through his hair as he drove you both down the Cut. The way his lips would curl into a cocky grin whenever he caught you staring at him for too long. The way he always had your back, no matter what chaos surrounded you.

And his hands — oh, God, his hands. They had always been there to catch you, to hold you steady when the world felt too heavy. Now, those same hands lay limp and lifeless.

You curled into him, your forehead pressing against his. “You always said you’d wipe my tears, JJ,”’you whispered. “So why aren’t you here now? Why aren’t you wiping them away?”

Your mind played cruel tricks, replaying all the times you’d fought together, laughed together, survived together. All the times you made it back safely to the Cut, bruised and battered but alive. This time was different. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. He wasn’t coming back.

Sarah’s muffled sobs reached your ears, and you vaguely felt John B’s hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you away. “We have to go,” he said softly, his voice thick with grief.

"I’m not leaving him!" you screamed, your voice echoing into the endless dark of the night.

“You’re going to have to,” John B said, tears streaming down his face as he pulled harder. “He’s gone.” His own voice was laced with disbelief.

The words cut through you like a knife. He’s gone.

“No!” you screamed, your voice raw. “He’s not gone! He’s just—just hurt. He’ll be okay. He always is!”

But even as you said the words, you knew they weren’t true. He wasn’t coming back. You pressed your forehead against his one last time, your tears soaking his hair.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I love you, JJ. And I don’t know how to do this without you.”

You sobbed harder, clutching onto JJ as though holding him tighter could somehow pull him back to you. But deep down, you knew. No amount of crying, no amount of screaming, would bring him back. He wasn’t going to open those bright blue eyes and crack some stupid joke to lighten the mood. He wasn’t going to smirk and tell you to stop crying because, “Tears don’t look good on you, baby.”

It was over.

JJ had been your paradise, your home, your light in the dark. And now, he was gone.

Forever.

You wanted to believe you’d see him again, that somehow, somewhere, he’d still be waiting for you with that crooked smile and those bright blue eyes. But for now, all you had was the ache in your chest and the memories that refused to fade.

JJ Maybank was gone.

And so was a piece of you.

The grave was small, shallow, hastily dug in the foreign soil. A makeshift wooden cross stood at the head of it, his name carved into the wood by John B’s trembling hands. The cross looked crude, unfinished, like it didn’t belong to someone as full of life as JJ.

You stood frozen, your feet anchored in the sand as if any step closer would make this all too real. The wind kicked up grains of sand around you, stinging your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Your gaze was fixed on the dirt they were about to pile over his body, the final separation between you and him.

The others stood nearby, their faces tear-streaked and hollow. John B was clinging to Sarah, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Pope had his arm around Cleo and Kiara had tears streaming down her face, her hand covering her mouth to stifle the sobs.

“JJ always said he wasn’t afraid of anything,” Pope said, his voice hoarse and cracking as he tried to find the words. “He was fearless. And I guess, in a way, he still is. Wherever he is now, I know he’s—I know he’s free.”

Kie stepped forward, her voice trembling as she said, “You were our brother, JJ. Our family. And I promise we’ll keep fighting for you, no matter what. You’d hate it if we gave up now.”

You couldn’t move. The lump in your throat was too big, the weight in your chest unbearable. How could they talk about him in past tense like this? How could they just accept it?

Your knees buckled, and you fell to the ground in front of his grave, your fingers digging into the dirt as if you could pull him back up, as if he were just a little too far beneath the surface.

“This isn’t real,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “This can’t be real. JJ, you, you’re supposed to be here. With me. With us.”

Your hands trembled as you pressed your palms to the ground, trying to feel something, anything. “You said we’d always make it back, remember? You promised!”

But the sand beneath your hands was silent.

John B knelt beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We have to let him go,” he said softly, his own voice raw with grief.

You shook your head violently, tears streaming down your face. “No! I’m not letting him go. I can’t.”

The others watched as your sobs filled the air, a sound so broken it made Cleo turn away, unable to bear it.

As the first handful of dirt hit the grave, something inside you shattered. You collapsed to the ground, your cheek pressing against the warm sand as you screamed his name, screamed until your voice gave out.

“Every time I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise.” The song’s lyrics echoed in your head, mocking you with their cruel truth. JJ was your paradise, your light in all the chaos, and now, without him, everything was dark.

The desert wind carried your cries, blending them with the grief of your friends as they said goodbye to the boy who had kept them laughing, kept them fighting, kept them alive.

The grave stood lonely and out of place in the arid Moroccan desert, so far from the marshy shores of the Cut that had shaped him, nurtured him, and kept him tethered to his home. This wasn’t Poguelandia. This wasn’t the dock where he used to sit for hours, feet dangling off the edge, or the familiar roads he sped down with reckless abandon on that beat-up bike. It wasn’t even near his house, if you could call it that, where the broken windows and peeling paint still held memories of the boy who made the most of nothing.

He didn’t belong here, buried in foreign soil so far away.

“How will your soul find me, J?” you whispered, voice trembling as your knees sank into the sand beside his grave. “How am I supposed to leave you here?”

The wind carried your words into the vast expanse, your grief disappearing into the endless sky. The thought crushed you, his body trapped in this foreign land, while you would have to carry his memory back without him. You hated it. Hated that you couldn’t take him home.

Tears blurred your vision as you traced his name on the makeshift wooden cross. It didn’t seem fair, not for JJ. Not for someone who burned so brightly, who carried you all through your darkest moments. The boy who swore he’d never leave.

“I’ll find you, you know,” you said, your voice cracking. “Even if it’s not in this life, I’ll find you. You and me, we’re tethered. We always will be. No matter how far you are, I’ll wait for you.”

But the thought of waiting, of the long journey his soul would have to take to find yours again, made you sob even harder. The journey would be so long, so cruel. He deserved to rest somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. Somewhere he could always find his way home.

You pressed your hands into the warm sand, the heat burning into your skin. “I’m sorry I have to leave you here,” you choked out. “I hate it. I hate that you’re not buried on Poguelandia, where you belong. I hate that you’re not near the water, near your house, near us.”

The others stood quietly behind you, their grief palpable but unable to match the hollow ache inside your chest. No one knew JJ like you did. No one had seen him in those quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when he wiped your tears away and whispered that you’d always have him.

Now, your tears fell freely, soaking into the sand, and there was no one to wipe them away.

Your fingers dug into the dirt, desperate for something to hold onto. You didn’t want to leave him behind, but you had no choice. Morocco would keep him now, this strange and foreign land that didn’t know the sound of his laugh or the way his smile lit up a room.

“Promise me,” you whispered to the grave, the words catching in your throat. “Promise me you’ll find me J, even if it takes forever.”

The makeshift cross stood still in the desert wind, offering no answer.

You stayed on the ground for what felt like hours, forehead pressed against the sand, as if you could anchor yourself to him one last time. Somewhere in your heart, you knew you’d see him again. Whether it was in this life or the next, you and JJ were bound together, tethered by something even death couldn’t sever.

But as the others gently pulled you away, their hands guiding you back, you realized the weight of leaving him here would stay with you forever. JJ wasn’t just gone. He was gone from you.

And as you walked away from his grave, the distant hum of the wind in your ears, you whispered one last time:

“I’ll find you. No matter what.”

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marilynslove · 12 days ago

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birds of a feather .. J.M

“ this love will keep us through blinding of the eyes „

୨⎯ 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ⎯୧

my breath gets caught in my throat at the sound of blade sinking into skin, the sound of jj’s small groan making my heart fall to the ground. i watch as groff twists the blade before withdrawing the hand knife from jayj’s stomach, my arms reaching out to help support the blonde as he stumbles back a little.

i can feel nothing and everything as i feel his tensed body against mine, helping him sink down to the ground slowly as i sink to my knees in front of him - eyes glossing over as my hands quickly avert to the crying of his wound, crimson red now staining the lines and creases of my hands.

my brain ignores the fading noises of groff’s footsteps as i scan his body for any more injuries that could’ve happened from the earlier combat against the mercenaries.

the pounding from my heart is all i can hear, the pulse beating quickly - yet the only sound i can listen to is the small breaths from jj’s lips - soon turning into coughs.

“no, no, no. look at me, look it’s-, it’s all gonna be okay.” i say, voice cracking as i look into the familiar gaze of his blue eyes. the ones i’d grown accustomed to seeing everyday for the past twelve years.

“let me see it.” i say, my hands shakily removing his own that were practically clutching at the gash.

my fingers tread over the now stained material, blood smearing against my fingers as my lip starts to quiver. my chest grows heavy as i stare down at him, consternation lingering in every nerve of my body as i freeze - almost like a deer in headlights.

he furrows his brows and scrunches his nose a little as he shifts his body to lean in a little - the same way his nose usually scrunches when he laughs.

“hey-, princess, look at me.” jj says through a cough, his hands reaching out to have a weak grasp on my arms. “‘s all gonna be okay, yeah? yer gonna be alright, i promise. don’t-, don’t cry.”

his finger comes to wipe the tears streaming down my face, shaking his head slightly.

“you-,” he cuts himself off with a cough, spitting up some blood to the side with a groan. his eyes flutter shut for a moment for (little to no) relief before opening to meet my own again.

“jay, baby you have to stay still.” i mumble, gently tapping on his chest.

“no, listen to me. you,” he presses his pointer finger against my chest as he leans forward - trying and failing to hold back a small groan of pain, his breath tickling against my skin.

“are gonna do great things. and you’re gonna grow old, and you’re gonna have all those babies we’ve talked about.”

i chew on the inside of my cheek as he talks, my gaze flickering over his face as i try to memorize the smallest of details. taking in the small dimples that forms as he talks, the ways his lashes kiss the soft but now dirtied surface of his skin.

the messy look flashes a small moment in my mind from when we were kids ; we’d been playing cops and robbers out in the cut and i’d tripped and fell, drawing cries from little me. john b had laughed, but jj threw himself on the ground next to me to make me laugh - ending up with dirt smeared across his nose and cheeks. i’d always thought that summed up the type of person he is.

“n you’re gonna open up that surf shop you always talk my ear off about, with the little turtle stickers you’re gonna hand out to every customer that comes and goes.” a small smile tugs at his lips, a hand coming up to brush a loose strand of hair that’d fallen out of place from my braid.

i lean into the warmth of his touch, tears blurring my vision before disappearing as fast as they came.

“do you-, do you think we’ll see each other again? in our next life?” he mumbles, the look in his eyes becoming distant as his eyes grow heavy.

i nod, the lingering lump in the back of my throat making it hard to swallow.

“every life, maybank.” i say softly, my voice trembles as i press a soft kiss against his lips.

“i love you in every one, i pinky promise.”

he looks up at me as his hand weakens, the small smile lingers on his lips before parting to speak. his body starts to relax, moving faster than his mind.

“jj? …. jj?”

#marilynslove #lowk cried while writing this #writing #obx #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #angst #obx 4 part 2 #obx season 4

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renegadesstuff · 22 days ago

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FERAL JJ IN PART 2 🔥🔥

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj #maybank #jayj #jj maybank edit #obxedit #outerbanksedit #obx spoilers #obx series #obx4 #obx season 4 #obx s4 part 2 #rudy pankow

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xxbirkindoll · 18 days ago

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OBX 4 PART 2 SPOILERS!!!!

lets talk about it / my thoughts on it

ok wow… so after seeing part 1 a month ago theories kept popping up on my fyp on TikTok about sarah being pregnant and jj dying and i did kind of believe them but to me those were just theories. i kinda knew sarah was pregnant tho like the signs were there. but DAMN jj dying!! i saw a tiktok post a while ago that im gonna LINK right here but i thought it was just a theory or something or that it wasn’t gonna be real. now im empathetic for the jj lovers but he was never really my favorite. ive kinda “hated” him throughout the show but i also had moments where i thought he was ok. my heart goes to the jj fans tho the scene was sad i feel for you.

now MY MAN rafe was sooo hot. im so glad we got more of him at the end because the first 2 episodes we barely got any scenes i was gonna scream!!! but im soo happy that rafe and sarah made up and now it seems like him and the pogues dont hate each other that much anymore.

ALSO about the whole rafe and kiara getting together now that jj is out of the picture. listen im not AGAINST it if its done right. shes been kind of afraid of him but now that he low key infiltrated himself in the group even if it was just for a few days then that could change their dynamic. i mean she tried to stop rafe from getting himself into a dangerous situation so maybe she doesnt hate him THAT much anymore. but really until i see it develop i cant say i ship them. i really miss him and sofia together i want them to kiss and make up tbh. comment ur thoughts i wanna see what yall think about this season. overall i LOVED IT. dare i say best season so far??!!?!!

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brekker-by-brekkerr · 17 days ago

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Look, in high stakes stories where characters' lives are at risk, does it sometimes make sense to kill off a main character? Yes. But you also have to take into account what kind of story we're talking about. Just because the characters are in life or death scenarios often doesn't mean it's a good decision to actually kill them off.

In a show like Outer Banks, they have never tried to be 100% realistic. It's a show about a bunch of teens who have the world stacked against them and still somehow manage to survive, together. They will always claw their way out of whatever situation they find themselves in. It's a story that at its heart is about friendship and found family and hope amidst hard life struggles. None of the Pogues need to be killed off to make the story impact the audience and feel real to them.

But if you're going to kill off one of your main characters anyway, the way the OBX writers went about it is NOT the way to go about it. JJ has been through some of the most of any of the OBX characters. This whole show, he's had life so stacked against him, and yet he has fought for his found family. And this season in particular, JJ was at such a low point, continually spiraling and making worse decisions and even saying Pope should have let the police officer shoot him. He believes he isn't worthy of a happy life and good things. And you're just going to, what. Not give him that happy life? Validate all his feelings about himself? He got a snippet of that happy life for ONE SECOND at the beginning of the season, so it's fine to kill him off now??

#if they needed jj off the show there were better ways to handle that death isn't the only option #obx spoilers #obx 4 spoilers #obx #jj maybank #obx season 4 #obx 4 part 2 #outer banks

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cloveroctobers · 12 days ago

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HOME | SERVING 2 of 2 — JJ MAYBANK [Fall Randoms] 🤎

A/N: Part one is here! + I finally let out a good cry last night before finishing this up so there's that. It's been awhile since losing a character had an effect on me and that YouTube video on the cast saying their goodbyes did NOT help. Anyways! The goal was to keep things light and envision that those that have been through so much DO get happy endings. Enjoy and thank you to those that read the first part, I appreciate you.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔

Soon everyone gets to work serving themselves, just as Pope and Cleo reveal their late arrival.

“I told Pope, y’all were gettin’ started witout us so we needed to hurry and get in line!” The Caribbean woman yells, tucking her signature blade into the small cross body bag she sported, before hugging Alma, who has her hands full so she opts for tucking her chin into her friend's shoulder in greeting.

JJ turns his eyes into slits at the brown skinned girl while making his way over to Pope to give him a bone crushing hug, “Cleo, if you broke my door—

“As much shit of mine you broke over the years?” Pope stares hard at JJ while defending his unbothered girlfriend, “Can’t even hold a candle, man.”

“Dude, why you bringin’ up old shit?” JJ squeezes Pope’s shoulders with a frown.

Rafe scoffs as he walks on by with his full plate of food already, “That’s rich coming from you, Maybank.”

“That’s strike one, Cameron!” JJ hissed at the no longer buzz haired man’s back.

“The hell is he doing here?” Pope jams a thumb at Rafe who’s strolling through the house looking around as he makes his way to the dining room.

JJ points at a sleek back bun wearing Sarah from across the room, “Ask his sister.”

“J…” Alma warns.

He raised his hands in surrender, “What? Can’t I inform my good friend here what’s going on in the house?”

“If you’re going to keep throwing jabs the entire night, we can step outside.” Sarah comments as she finishes fixing herself and Little J a plate.

JJ scoffs, “I wouldn’t want my godson mad at me, and his view of me is the most important. Which is why, when we get to the games, I’m gonna kick your butt!”

“Oh yeah?” Sarah quizzes as she spins on her heels to face him in her mustard yellow ribbed dress, “Loser owes the other $500 bucks.”

JJ sucks air between his teeth, “That’s boring Pogue princess. I’ve got a better idea! And it involves this estate at night and the basement.”

“Oh god.” Kiara mumbles, putting her last serving of greenery (which was of course the dish she brought over) on her plate and sends Alma a grimace on her way out of the kitchen.

Sarah was the first one to find that the Genrette basement was haunted. She honestly felt like it was a scene out of the conjuring and wanted no parts after spraining her ankle trying to get out of there. JJ didn’t believe her at first until he got locked down there himself and heard a voice that did not sound like Alma’s or Sarah’s. He’s never been a big fan of Halloween and he definitely didn’t want this estate to make him afraid to sleep here. Not when he began to find an actual home in a physical building rather than people.

“Bet.” Sarah holds out her ankle so they can shake on it, since her hands were indeed full.

Groaning Alma hands over a utensil to Cleo after watching the two “shake” on it.

“Aw don’t be like that mama, it’s all in good fun! After all our house is the fun house!” JJ explains, squeezing Alma’s hips while he circled around the kitchen to grab his own plate.

Cleo laughs, “If anybody ends up injured tonight, rude boy, you’re done for!”

JJ tips his imaginary hat, “Thanks for your vote of confidence, ma’am.”

“Aye, I always bet on princess.” Cleo winks while JJ sticks his tongue into his cheek, before peeking at Pope who immediately shakes his head.

“Don’t bring me into your shenanigans.”

“You used to love my shenanigans,” JJ argues, “Don’t tell me the military done officially made you a hardass, Pope!”

Pope snorts, “No. It’s brought me some sense after five years.”

Alma shares a glance with Cleo. Knowing that the only reason Pope decided to enlist was to avoid the fact that he had to kill in order to survive out in Morocco. Hey, people learn how to cope the best way they knew how and Alma was always the last to judge Pope on that. She was the one who ended Groff’s life for trying to take away the love of her life (twice) and no amount of sleep would erase her actions. Or the amount of anger she had in that moment, the stench of blood and that same blood that once decorated her face. The weight of the blade…

It needed to be done.

She couldn’t make herself regret her actions and that was the scary part.

That was something she wouldn’t talk about with JJ (she didn't want to be the one to bring him anymore pain) or even her therapist…she was very vague on that, yet she had no problem talking about it with Pope. JJ felt a way about that but Cleo tried to convince him not to take it personal.

“Sorry, what was that?” JJ cupped one of his ears, “I fell asleep over your preaching.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” Pope snapped his fingers, “Now hand me that spoon for the green beans.”

“Sir yes sir!” JJ saluted.

Finding that there was no real tension between the two, Alma and Cleo let the two be for a moment, heading into the dining room where the rest were seated, which was a good enough signal for John B to hop up and go fix his own plate.

“Sooo…” John B. said to JJ who leaned against one of the counters to bite into a turkey leg, waiting for the two to finish picking their choices for dinner.

Pope felt a small smile playing on his lips, already getting a sense of what his curly haired friend was hinting at, while he moved on to load some Mac-N-Cheese onto his plate, “Have you set a plan in motion on how you’re going to propose yet?”

JJ immediately shushed the now low-cut haired man, flicking his shoulder, “Sheesh! Can you be any louder?!”

“There’s music playing.” Pope shrugged, as he peered at his blue eyed friend.

Which sounded a whole lot like Cleo’s playlist as laughter rung out from the room down from the kitchen.

“Don’t you know by now that women have supersonic hearing?” The blond says through gritted teeth and glanced over his shoulder.

Pope turned his eyes into slits while John B nodded, “That’s not a thing—

“Pope!” Cleo suddenly called from the dining room, “The cranberry sauce is out here on the dining room table. Alma says the ladle is in one of the drawers—well stuck in the drawer. Bring it here, will ya?”

His natural deep tone radiates off the walls, “Okay, baby!”

“Tanks!” Cleo calls back, which made both JJ and John B send him a pointed look.

Pope exhales and holds one hand out in apology, “I’ll try to keep my voice down…but I am curious.”

“Thanks, Darth Vader,” JJ joked while Pope gives him a blank stare, “Anyway! Y’all know I’ve had the ring for months but there have been times when she almost found it.”

“Guess where the idiot hid it the first time?” John B chuckles as he says this.

Pope sticks his fork into the Mac-N-cheese, “Oh I know this is going to be good.”

The blond ran his teeth over his bottom lip, allowing his friends to poke their fun for a little bit.

“Underneath the bed in one of Alma’s empty shoe boxes and guess who walked around with the pouch that had the ring in their mouth?” John B continued inquiring Pope who simply shrugged.

“Don’t say Little J?”

“No! Binx.” John B laughs while JJ rolled his fingers around at the mention of the charcoal gray cat Alma adopted three years ago.

JJ wanted some big ass dog originally and it was still in the works. It only made sense that Alma was a cat girlfriend who wanted a cat. It was the best emotional support animal in Alma’s opinion but JJ actually wouldn’t have minded an iguana or even a hedgehog! The pair often checked on Kiara’s turtle when she went off to New York or D.C. when her parents couldn’t. So the couple knew how to take care of Little J, some pets, and each other but marriage? Felt like an even bigger step, which is why JJ constantly backed out. Finding every excuse in the world to not do it.

Granted they were still young but JJ couldn’t picture anyone else being his wife. It was never a question of him not wanting to do it, it was his own self-doubts of if he was even worthy to have this kind of love. It still felt like a dream most days, when he found his mind wandering off as he gazed at Alma lovingly while she carried on doing something around the home or even when she was just sitting underneath him talking about anything. Even when they got into arguments, JJ wouldn't want to go to bed angry and that said a lot since his temper often got the best of him.

The only pair that were in an official union on paper was Sarah and John B who eloped not long after Lisbon. Of course it was never a competition when it came to all of the relationships, there was nothing but admiration and respect for all, however they all believed that the ones next in line should definitely be JJ and Alma.

It was already secretly voted by the rest.

“Alright, if you two are done cackling like some damn hyenas! We have a dinner to get to.” JJ tells his friends who were in fact sharing a good ‘ol laugh.

John B holds a hand out, “Aw don’t be like that man!”

“I’m not bein’ like nothing. We just got to get this show on the road, ya know?” The blond lets out a wolf whistle with a swirl of his finger.

Pope adds, “Look…whenever you do choose to do it, just know that we always got your back.”

“And Binx. They seem to be the extra push you need to just do it already.” John B joked with a wink which made JJ send him a special middle finger as they all start to leave.

“Wait! The ladle.” JJ tells Pope, who spins back around to enter the kitchen at his instruction, “It’s the drawer on the end by the window, there’s a special trick you gotta—

Pope ends up flinging himself back with the drawer handle now in his hand. The friends look at each other in silence.

“…I’m telling Alma you broke that.”

“Are you forreal?!” Pope yells at his back while JJ nods his head and speeds walks out of the kitchen. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 The dinner is as peaceful as can be, chatting about what everyone had going on, random topics, and of course old memories. There was even a phone call in from Mr. Heyward who of course invited everyone to spend actual thanksgiving down at their house, if anybody didn’t have any plans. A FaceTime call also came in from Joey who just had to hear about JJ and Sarah’s objective to battle it out with the night games Alma and JJ had planned.

Joey of course betted on JJ.

The games ranged from: Making turkey hands with Little J = Sarah’s team (Sarah, John B, Cleo, and Rafe—who mainly wanted to keep score rather than participate) won that one of course, Dance telephone happened before the drinks = JJ’s team won that (JJ, Alma, Pope, and Kiara), a little break was taken after that until Kiara wanted to film a Cuff it challenge for TikTok, where Cleo had to switch sides for a moment to redeem her team losing but John B argued that wasn’t part of the games and JJ didn’t want to hear any of that, calling him a sore loser which ended up with the two wrestling on the floor and shit-talking, then came the creating the best beverage of the night and guessing who it belonged to, who ever got the most votes for that drink and whatever team they were on got the point.

Rafe, JJ, and Cleo all made the strongest drinks. Sarah made the weakest but sweetest drink, Kiara’s was a sneak up on you kind of drink, John B and Pope’s tasted similar since they used alike ingredients, and Alma pranked them all with her holiday fruit water that she forgot to take out of the fridge, demanding that they needed to be hydrated after indulging in JJ, Rafe, and Cleo’s drink back to back. She was automatically disqualified but she was fine dancing with Little J anyway. It unfortunately didn’t come down to what tasted the best but immediately to which one was going to give them a hangover for days…it came close but ultimately the point went to Sarah’s team.

A few more games were dived into: who could blow out the tea light candles the farthest in one breath, stacking cups the fastest with little J participating in before he was ready to go to bed, which Rafe surprisingly stepped up and said he would do, then came the game of head shoulders knees and toes cup—which is basically Simon says and whichever opponent touches the cup first wins, backstabber karaoke where you have to sing the lyrics correctly without looking at the screen, that included Alma getting a nice serenade of, “Leave The Door Open,” from JJ which funny enough unlocked a memory from their high school years, since Alma still has the biggest crush on Bruno Mars and JJ tried to persuade that he sounded better.

Once it was Alma’s turn and she shared a sip of JJ’s horrible concoction, that gave her more faith to belt a ballad as well from Celine Dion, “The Power of love,” but everyone knew they should have left the vocals to Kie anyway. It was shaky on both teams and some accusing the other of cheating just like the game prior but they gave it to Sarah’s team only because they knew the lyrics better!

The final game was: Drunk jeopardy and it was also pretty close until it was Alma’s choice to pick the last category which was: Random for 500.

Rafe reads the question with his head tilted to the side in puzzlement, after tapping out on the games, “What would you say if JJ asked to marry you?”

Kiara, Sarah, and Cleo all shared a gasp and latched into each other once they realized what was happening. John B was tipsy so he slapped his hands against his face, slowly trying to piece together what was going on right now.

Alma widened her low-lidded eyes, in search of JJ to see what was about to occur. She didn’t peak at any of the questions when this board got delivered to their house earlier this week but she never expected this type of question to be here.

A tap to her thigh, makes her look down to see JJ already down on his knee with his hand held out. Alma doesn’t hesitate placing hers in his warm and slightly sweaty one, which JJ intertwined with his own while holding onto a cream colored pouch.

“Hi, Kit.” That nickname fell softly from JJ’s lips as he addressed his woman.

Alma felt her heartbeat in her ears and she was positive that JJ could probably feel that rhythm radiating through their joined hands. “Hey, JJ babe.”

JJ sniffs as he looks down at their hands briefly, “You have no idea how much I’ve been going back and forth in my mind on when to do this.”

Cleo pauses the music from her phone, while Kiara pulls out her phone to record, and Sarah rushes over to John B to plop into his lap and hold onto him.

“Like John B said…Binx even wanted me to just do it.” JJ looks up at Alma, his eyes already appeared watery as he carries on, “So we’re here, months later, finally finding the nerve to ask you. I’m not the best with words as you know yet my mouth always gets me in trouble.”

“Absolutely.” Kiara comments just to be shushed by Pope who still nods his head in agreement and amusement.

JJ gets rid of his glare the moment he peers over at Alma, “We’ve had a lot of conversations high and not high about what the future looked like and I always struggled not knowing or having any ideas…until you became this permanent force in my life. You make me better, want to be better, and make me see that life is worth so much more than the pessimistic thoughts that like to get the best out of me.”

Alma squeezes his hand in encouragement.

“You had my heart way before you even knew it. I tried to fight it too but when you want something bad enough? You’re real sneaky at getting it.” JJ laughs, with Alma echoing, “You’ve always known what you’ve wanted and even now I’m still in disbelief that you choose me time and time again.”

“Don’t be.” Alma whispers but molds her lips into her mouth, not wanting to interrupt.

JJ continues, “We’ve been through some shit, huh?”

Everyone murmurs.

“Yet we still get to tell the story and you’re a huge piece of it. My joy, my whole entire heart. I’m thankful for you showing me what love is, it can be: tender, kind, unpredictable, to the bone, and wholesome. I like comin’ home to you, ya know? You’re always running around in my head with those damn claws of yours that shockingly haven’t poked my damn eye out. Still they know how to leave their mark, don’t they baby?” He wiggles his brows up at the dark haired woman, whose mouth drops a bit with a laugh as she reaches out to playfully swat at his shoulder.

JJ laughs, “What I’m trying to wrap this up into is…I love you so much and you told me you wouldn’t know what to do without me. You almost had that experience…”

Which makes the room appear solemn for a moment at the horrifying memory. That’s what it was and that’s where they needed to keep it.

“The truth is I barely know what to do without you when we’re only a few hours apart. That lets me know, I need you in my life for eternity and a helluva lot more after that. So…Alma belle Layton, would you make me the luckiest man of all time and be my wife?”

Everyone waited with bated breath but JJ’s stomach was in the form of biggest knots. If he didn’t get an answer soon, he might just let it all go right here…sorry you guys!

JJ managed to pull the ring out from the pouch with one hand and teeth. Alma didn’t even need to see the ring because her blank face quickly split into a wide grin that always reached her eyes.

“Duh,” she finally answers bringing her forehead to JJ’s who finally let his shoulders relax.

Claps and whistles were heard all over the living room, leaving JJ to scramble to his feet, with shaky hands he slips the ring onto Alma’s finger. She bounces on her toes, giggling as she locks her arms over JJ’s shoulders, their noses softly bumped against each other’s as they breathed each other in before connecting their lips.

This kiss felt different, like a whole new promise and the static that tingled their lips only made their smiles wider.

“I love you Jeremiah James Maybank and I won’t let you forget it.” Alma whispers against his lips.

JJ feels his whole chest fill with warmth while he nods, “I think I’m finally starting to get that, buttercup.”

Alma throws herself against him tightly, lightly scratching at his back with her nails as he holds onto the woman of his dreams.

Their hug becomes even fuller as the rest of their friends circle them with hugs of their own.

Alma pulls back to flash the ring, which she didn’t even look at, just thrilled that JJ needed her to be his wife.

“I’m a fiancée, y’all!” Alma models her ring which makes JJ send a dimpled smile her way, and all the guys roughly pull and shake JJ around in a congratulating manner.

“I actually got my Poguey for life. WOOO-HOO! YEAH!” JJ cheers with his fists thrown up in the air.

The three girls had their heads trained down on Alma’s trilliant engagement ring.

“You did nice, pretty boy.” Cleo observes, sending her friend a thumbs up.

Kiara nods as she continues to hold Alma’s hand, “JJ’s always had the most questionable taste in pretty much everything but it’s a blessing to see that he made the right choice with you.”

“What kind of compliment is that?” JJ yells out to the taller girl out of the group.

Kiara innocently shrugs her shoulders with a grin.

“We’re officially sisters, AlmBelle!” Sarah is a giggly mess with her chin buried in Alma’s shoulder, while hugging her from behind.

Alma smiles resting her cheek back against Sarah’s.

Rafe glanced at the ring on his way by with his lips pushed out, plastic cup still in hand, “Not bad for a pogue, Maybank.”

“You know what, Rafe?” JJ starts in a tone that makes everyone turn their attention to the blond’s words, “…I’m too happy right now to even want to kick your ass so…happy thanksgiving man.”

Rafe snickers as he gazes up at the turkey leg headband the younger man now had on his head, they side eye each other until Rafe raises his cup in a silent congratulatory manner.

“I’m gonna check on the kid.” Rafe informs the group of friends, stopping to look over his shoulder to see the most loyal of friends express their joy over this new found chapter in their lives.

Everyone stops to just sit with each other for a while before the cleanup starts. Alma has her eyes closed as JJ presses kisses all over her cheek, arms locked around her hips while they lounged on the couch.

They were rightfully in their bubble right now.

“I won’t really be able to keep my hands off you now, Mrs.” He says into her ear.

Alma smiles, “Don’t.”

“Promise you’ll return the favor?” JJ’s got that cute dimple peeking out on his cheek.

Alma shifts to rest her legs over JJ’s lap, “You’re not going anywhere as long as I have something to say about it.”

He runs one hand down the length of her faux leather covered thigh, “I like the sound of that.”

And this is just a page in what should have been the perfect love story.

Sarah smiles at the two from across the room on another sofa, John B was already snoring against her shoulder. It was safe to say that JJ’s team won the Friendsgiving games tonight. Her almond eyes watched as Alma held onto JJ’s jaw as he animatedly talked, probably about his path to getting the ring. There was such a softness in Alma’s eyes as she gently nodded along, listening to the blond she took the time to love.

JJ Maybank was home.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔

#part 2 of 2 #part 2 to home 🏠#queued #obx season 4 #obx netflix #obx4 #jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x reader #holiday fic #cleo anderson #pope heyward #popecleo #jarah b #jarah #kiara carrera #rafe cameron

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