#pogue style

[itsthecline]

styling

maybank!reader x rafe cameron

maybank!reader takes pride in the way she looks. she thrifts most of her clothes and upcycles. once they get pougelandia 2.0 up and running , she has full intentions on selling some clothes as well. she wants kids on the cut to be able to have fun clothes for affordable prices.

most days she’s wearing a swimsuit and something to cover up her bottom or top half for hanging out or running quick errands, but when she’s dressed up to do something it was always different. she’s got so many clothing items it was nearly impossible for her to ever wear an outfit twice.

lots of colors and textures ; beads , sequins , embroidery & lace were staples. often times she goes with the small top , big bottoms vibe. flowy and layers!

she has always been into jewelry , and her collection over the years has become more than abundant. when she was with rafe , her jewelry box became three due to him buying any pieces he thought she could like. most of the things he bought her were retired after they broke up. she was always wearing some sort of metal whether it was rings , bracelets , earrings , necklaces , or a mixture of all of them. her starfish earrings were her favorite ; thankfully she was able to keep track of them at pougelandia.

strong believer in her having a simple , gold nose ring.

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @ravenmedows @yootvi @icaqttt

[sugarcandydoll]

here's how i imagine myself as deer!reader based on @princessbrunette 's fics hehe ♡🦌💕 feel like deer!reader would sew her own clothes sometimes hehehe! ♡🏹 n it'll always turn out sooo cute considering she just collected snippets of cloth n lace etc etc n sewed it into smth so cute!!

pics not mine ♡ n deer!reader belongs to @princessbrunette ♡🧸 n header by @dollywons ♡🧁

[elliottcarterr]

🍃

Tag: @t4teee @tillyrae @thecoolermaybank @yktayy9669 @bbbla1r @bryanjoness @bankslov @baileejones @zarrisxoxo @lillianblake @nateelawrence @rcameronofficial @auroraaugust @kiaraac @kurodahana @jjmakesbank @prettygirlthornton @princesssarahcam @pogueyboi @hannahthekook @isabelalopez @itssmerafecameron @masonperez112 @miaryderanon @meilanirivera @sanaamuse

[futuremrscameron]

thinking of kiara maybank-carrera specifically her hair evolution throughout the show

[sun-undone]

THEY!! LOOK SO FUCKING GOOD!!!!

[amidst-wonderland]

OUTER BANKS: KOOK PRINCESS | STYLE EDIT

[psychoticfemmm]

drunk on you

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: After a wild night of partying, JJ takes care of his drunk girlfriend, enduring her chaotic antics and relentless demands for kisses while the Pogues tease him endlessly.

The music thumped loudly in the background as JJ Maybank maneuvered his way through the crowded beach party, your drunken laughter echoing in his ears. You were practically draped over his shoulder like a giggling mess, your hand clutching the strap of his shirt while your other hand lazily waved at everyone passing by.

“JJ! I’m having so much fun!” you slurred, your face lighting up as you spotted him glancing down at you. “But I need—wait for it—another kiss!”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need another kiss, princess. You need water. And maybe a nap.”

You pouted dramatically, squirming in his grasp. “Nooo. JJ, you’re being so mean. Just one!”

He stopped for a second, setting you down on your feet so you could look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “What did I just say? Water first, then maybe kisses,” he teased, a crooked grin on his face.

You leaned closer, practically pressing your forehead against his chest as you whined, “But you’re my boyfriend! It’s your job to kiss me whenever I ask.”

“You’re impossible,” JJ said with a sigh, but the fondness in his voice gave him away.

From a few feet away, Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara watched the scene unfold, laughing amongst themselves.

“She’s relentless,” Pope said, shaking his head in disbelief. “JJ looks like he’s babysitting.”

“Hey, at least she’s not crying,” Sarah chimed in, smirking. “That’s progress.”

“She’s definitely about to though,” Kiara added, watching as you flung yourself dramatically against JJ’s chest, shouting something about him being “the worst boyfriend ever” for withholding kisses.

“Alright, that’s it,” JJ declared, bending down and effortlessly scooping you into his arms bridal-style, just like in the picture. “I’m cutting you off. You’re done.”

You gasped, throwing your head back in faux outrage as your legs dangled over his arms. “You’re kidnapping me! Someone stop him!”

“No one’s stopping me, sweetheart,” JJ said with a laugh. “You’re out of control.”

The group burst into laughter, John B pulling out his phone to record the whole scene.

“JJ, this is gold,” John B said between laughs. “I can’t wait to show her this tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare!” you shouted, suddenly animated, though your words were slurred. “John B Routledge, I swear, if you—JJ, make him stop!”

JJ rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on you. “You think I can do everything, huh? I’m already carrying your drunk ass.”

“Because you love me,” you replied with a smug grin, poking his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” JJ muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

When you finally made it back to the house, JJ gently set you down on the couch. You flopped over dramatically, your arm draped over your face.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” he said, handing you a bottle of water.

“I’m going to hate you in the morning,” you quipped, though your smile said otherwise.

JJ rolled his eyes, plopping down beside you. “Fine. One kiss. Just one.”

You immediately perked up, your face lighting up as you crawled onto his lap and kissed him. It was a bit clumsy and overly enthusiastic, but JJ couldn’t help but laugh into it, pulling you closer.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he said, pulling back before you could start again. “We’re in front of the Pogues, for crying out loud.”

Sure enough, Sarah, Kiara, and the rest of the group were standing in the doorway, watching with grins and smug expressions.

“Aw, JJ,” Sarah teased. “You’re such a softie.”

“Shut it, Sarah,” JJ shot back, his cheeks red.

“I think it’s cute,” Kiara said, nudging Pope.

Pope smirked. “You mean hilarious.”

You, however, were too busy giggling in JJ’s arms to care. And despite the teasing and chaos around him, JJ couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, you were his chaos—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You groaned as sunlight streamed through the window, making you squint against the bright rays. Your head pounded, and your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“What the hell…” you muttered, shielding your eyes as you slowly sat up.

From the doorway, JJ leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his tone entirely too cheerful.

You glared at him. “Why are you so loud?”

“Not my fault you had a little too much fun last night,” he teased, walking over and plopping down on the bed beside you.

You groaned, dropping back against the pillows. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely reminding you. Do you want to hear about how you demanded ‘one more kiss’ like, a hundred times? Or how you tried to fight John B because he wouldn’t stop filming you?”

Your eyes shot open, and you turned to him with horror. “I did not.”

“Oh, you did,” JJ said with a laugh. “And you called me, and I quote, ‘the worst boyfriend ever’ because I wouldn’t kiss you in the middle of the party.”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I’m never drinking again.”

JJ leaned down, brushing his lips against your temple. “Don’t worry. I think it was adorable. Drunk you is my favorite.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said with a grin. “But don’t worry, princess. I’m here to take care of you.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Because at the end of the day, JJ always had your back—whether you were sober or not.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

since you guys loved the last JJ fic𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

send requests! ⋆˚✿˖°

[rafesangelita]

omg imagine s1 rafe bringing sweetheart!pogue!reader to his partay and she is like watching him do coke n stuff. idk theyre so different

warnings: drug use, suggestive ending

a/n: i’m imagining s1!rafe who just loves to have pogue!sweetheart!reader around because they’re polar opposites and he needs the balance lol. this prompt is to die for, thank you anon <3

to say you felt out of place would be an understatement. you didn’t go to parties, you didn’t drink, and you certainly didn’t do any kind of drugs, yet you found yourself in the lap of the one person who did all three. “why are you so quiet, baby? you shy?” rafe ran a palm up and down your thigh, the feeling of his breath fanning against your skin bringing butterflies to your tummy. you smiled softly, shaking your head. “no.. s’just not really my scene.” you whispered.

rafe tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, kissing you deeply before he pulled away. “ i know, i know. we’ll ditch this shit and go up to my room in a few minutes, how does that sound?” his bloodshot eyes met your sober ones. you smiled softly, nodding. “yo’, rafe!” you looked up at topper, the boy flashing you a smile before dropping a small baggy in rafe’s hand. “you gotta get in on this shit, man. kelce said it tastes like candy.” you swallowed thickly, watching as rafe grabbed the rolling tray from the coffee table in front of him.

“are you okay if i do this?” he turned, noticing the way your eyebrow creased in worry. you weren’t fond of the fact that rafe used, but he was a good person with a good heart. at least you thought so. the last thing you wanted to do was point out his mistakes and lecture him as if he wasn’t a grown man who could make his own decisions, so you settled for a quiet; ‘yeah, it’s okay.’ before resting your head on his shoulder. he pressed a kiss to your knuckles before emptying the bag, using a credit card to formulate a perfect white line.

the gold ring on rafe’s finger glinted under the soft light of his home, the sight catching your eyes before you watched him snort up the blow. you couldn’t deny the ‘off’ feeling you got witnessing the way his eyes glazed over when the whole room erupted in cheers, a couple of girls glaring at you from a distance. rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, taking a swig of whatever alcohol he had in his cup. “alright, her turn.” topper came to you with another baggy, rafe immediately pushing his friend away.

“she doesn’t do this shit. leave her alone.” sensing the energy shift, everyone quieted down, now dispersing from the table as rafe rubbed circles into your skin. “wanna get out of here?” he stroked your cheek, finding the liquor on his breath weirdly comforting. “please?” that one word was all you had to say before rafe carried you upstairs bridal style. “you look like a doll in this dress, you know that? all pretty for me..” you giggled at his words, biting your lip once you heard the lock to his bedroom door click.

[i-love-ptv]

Busted and Blue ｡𖦹 ⋆｡

Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader

It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..

Wc: 3,727

Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz

An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚

Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)

Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33

“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.

Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”

You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.

Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.

“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.

But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.

“Wait!”

“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.

Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.

You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”

You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.

“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”

You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.

“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”

Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.

He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.

And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.

Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.

But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.

Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.

Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.

With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.

You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.

But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.

Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.

And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!

You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.

You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.

“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.

You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.

Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.

“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”

He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.

After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.

You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.

You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.

Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.

“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”

They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.

Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.

“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.

“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.

“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.

You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.

You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.

There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.

“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.

After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.

You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.

There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.

He wants to protect you, he needs to.

It’s his job as your boyfriend.

Your future husband.

Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.

But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.

“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”

Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.

He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.

He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.

…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.

That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.

The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.

But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.

Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.

They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.

He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.

It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.

“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.

Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.

And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.

Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.

Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.

“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.

Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”

“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”

“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.

But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.

When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.

It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.

“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.

“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.

Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.

Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.

So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.

“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.

You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.

You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.

“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”

You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.

“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.

You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.

“Dollie? You up here babe?”

You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.

….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.

“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“

The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.

You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.

Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.

“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.

Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.

“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”

When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.

You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.

Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.

He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.

“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”

Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.

“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”

Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.

“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”

There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.

It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.

“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.

“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.

His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.

Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.

He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.

Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.

“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”

Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.

“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.

And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.

Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”

Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”

Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.

But he hesitates to knock.

He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:

First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.

Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.

Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.

Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.

You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.

Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.

His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.

He knocks at the door.

•······················•

There’s a knock at the door.

A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.

You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.

You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.

“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.

“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.

“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.

You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.

You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.

You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.

“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”

Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.

Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.

The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.

The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.

He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.

Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.

You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.

This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.

Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.

It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.

“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.

“..Do what?”

“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.

Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back

There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.

You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.

Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.

You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.

You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.

While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.

“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.

Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”

You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”

“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.

After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.

While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.

Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.

He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.

Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.

That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.

- -

“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”

“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”

Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.

Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”

- -

If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.

As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.

Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.

Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.

If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.

Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.

He can’t help it. You make him whole.

He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.

Because you’re his love; his life.

[itsthecline]

styling

ex-pogue kook!reader x jj maybank

ex-pogue kook!reader is almost always wearing a big t-shirt and long , jean shorts. most of the shirts she wore were ones that her and jj had traded over the years or she simply took when she needed one. if she needed to look more presentable , she’d switch into a more fitting shirt.

when she does dress up it’s usually for beach days. she’d wear whatever swimsuit she could find and a crocheted coverup and that was it. at midsummers , though , she went full kook. her dad was working on finishing up a contract with ward , so to make the package look nicer he asked you politely to go with rafe. your dress matched his and everything.

she’s either wearing her beat up , orange converse that she’s had for years or nothing. there’s no in between. she’s a firm believer that if you live on an island your toes should be in the sand.

surprisingly , she doesn’t have any piercings or tattoos. but when it comes to jewelry she has one necklace jj gave her on her sixteenth birthday , and she wears it every day. it was a shark tooth — matching his own. and eventually , she starts wearing a ring on the necklace too.

as for her hair , it’s usually thrown up in some messy updo to simply keep it out of her face.

[sexilene]

thinking ab john b with a sleepy girlfriend....😇😇

yesss omigod!! 🧸💞 let him set a bedtime for you n everything!! (ignore any spelling mistakes sorryyy lol!!)

the pogues had thrown jj a little stupid “luau” birthday party over at the boneyard, and a bunch of people ended up showing up, a night of drinking, sticky s’mores, and messin’ around. even after the sun had set, the partying hadn’t ended, at some point, you’re seated on john b’s lap to keep you from wandering around with people you don’t know. you do this often, situating yourself in his arms and waiting until he’s done with his conversations- really to give you attention. and of course, you are included in the conversations and are normally pretty well-behaved! but with the hour boarding at 10:00 at night it's known that around this time you get frisky and impatient.

usually, you’d be in bed by now, or getting pounded into the mattress by your boyfriend, so it only makes sense that you’d be a little tired and needy. your head lolls into the crook of his neck, eyes beginning to droop closed. and john b takes immediate notice, his hand coming up to pull your top up from any more cleavage or “helping his baby out” as he puts it. your frosty white nails scratching softly skin on his arm, the arm holding you tightly against him.

“can’t believe i’m still up this late…” you whisper, knowing he’d hear you

“neither can i, you're usually passed out by this time.” he coos and presses a kiss to your temple, bouncing you on his leg a bit

you smile at his words, your sleepy brain responding with what you would hope to convince him that you're still awake, aka still responsive enough for sex… “m’ still awake though, s’such a nice party.” yeah? you're slurring a little honey…” he hums,

at some point he can tell you’re starting to get antsy, wiggling so that your cunt could get some sort of friction against his thigh and that’s when he decides it's time to get you home. and as soon as your makeup is off and teeth are brushed he’s carrying you over his shoulder into his room. john b helping you peel off your skirt and lifting your pretty top over your head, knowing that you needed to be absolutely naked at this very moment.

“can we have sex now?” you whisper, big wide puppy eyes staring up at your boyfriend.

“sorry baby but no can do. past your bedtime.” he winces, giving your ass a light pat to get you on the bed.

“whatever happened to birthday sex!?” you pout, climbing onto the messy sheets of the bed, patting the spot next to you so that your boyfriend could get the hint.

“it’s jj’s birthday, not ours.” he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his t-shirt over his head revealing to you his pretty v line and happy trail. your eyes drift downwards waiting for him to strip off his pants next. “well that’s gotta count,” you shrug, laying your head back against your pillow.

“hate to break it to ya bubba but it doesn’t.”

“please!!! i’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life!!” you whine and climb on top of him once he lays down beside you in nothing but boxers.

“okay well, that's a little dramatic…”

“please please please pretty please johnbee!” you grind your now slippery wet cunt on his bulge, making the fabric of his boxers wet with an obvious little spot.

“you sure? it’s- 10:43…you need your beauty rest right?” he tries to soothe your aching by pressing your body down onto him, his big rough hands squeezing the doughy flesh of your ass as gently as he can. “no, wanna make you feel good.” you shake your head and bring your lips over to the side of his neck to give him a bunch of kisses. its is so beyond easy to get him to give in on something like this!!

and the next thing you know you are on top of him, cowgirl style as he helps you bounce on his cock by lifting you up and down by your ribs, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples every now and then to give you a shockwave of pleasure. “big- big- so bi- johnnyyyy” you could almost drool at how massive he feels inside you, no matter how many times you fuck, you could never full be used to the size of your boyfriend's huge dick. he can tell by the way you can’t make full sentences that you're starting to get cockdrunk and on top of that….sleepy.

“you getting sleepy now bub?” john b hums, flicking your nipples with his thumb a couple of times,

“noooo…”

“yeeaah, she’s getting sleepy on me…” he says while he smiles that sweet sleepy smile.

“m’not! wanna keep doin’ this,” “m’i bouncing good?” you shake your head as tears spill out of your eyes, streaming down your face, and john b knows you're not crying because of pain, it's just what happens when you feel really good.

“super good sweetheart, feel like cumming?” he coos, bringing his hands down to grip your ass, and surely there is gonna be some obvious handmark bruising and soreness on your poor pretty ass in the morning.

“uh huh!”

“sh sh sh, just close your eyes puppy, and cream all over me, cover my cock.” john b takes the opportunity that your body is going weak due to your approaching orgasm and thrusts up into you unbelievably harder and deeper. as soon as your boyfriend hears your cute little high pitched moans escape your lips he knows that within seconds your tight walls are pulsing around him, cumming down hard on his dick, and that’s exactly what happens. you can feel his warm cum shoot up into your tummy, smiling at the feeling, knowing your boyfriend pretty much cums bucketssss!!

you hide your flushed sweaty face in the crook of his neck, your hands still gripping his shoulders with ferocity. john b then hears your breathing return to normal, rubbing your back with soft motions.

“did daddy tire his girl out? hmm? finally ready to get some shut eye huh bubba?”

“feel so full right now, wish we could stay like this forever…” john b continues to rub your back and nod at your drowsy mumbling, and you know you could pass out right in this very moment and he’d take care of you.

ᥫ᭡. ᥫ᭡.

[nativegirltapes]

pairing: toxic!rafe x bubbly!kook!reader

you and rafe always took 'breaks', but they never lasted. when he asked you to meet him in the middle of the night you could never say no.

you and rafe had been on your longest break yet, going on 3 weeks. and you couldn't lie, you'd been doing really good without him. but you missed him, a lot.

you didn't know why you missed him so much, it was almost like a drug you just couldn't live without despite knowing you're better off without it.

2AM, sitting in your room, music blasting through your earbuds, paging through your favorite clothing catalog; you felt your phone vibrate right next to you. thinking it was pope; the cute pogue you had recently befriended and been texting, you had a slight smile on your face.

that smile faded when you realized it was indeed not pope, but rafe. of course from some random number because you blocked him on his own.

252-###-### - It's me. Can we talk? Meet at tanneyhill in 15? PLS. I love you.

you sighed, partly of self disappointment because you knew you were going to do exactly what he wanted. but also partly from relief, this being you and rafe's longest break, you wondered what had been keeping him so busy from trying to reach out to you. on previous breaks he'd be begging to see you a few days in.

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ 🍰 . .

rafe was sat on the front steps of tanneyhill, he looked stressed and upset, but really when wasn't he?

"hey," you said softly, standing in front of him, not wanting to get too close.

"hey." he looked up at you. "thanks for coming."

"yeah." your voice was full of shame. it was embarrassing how you couldn't say no to rafe. you liked to rationalize your embarrassment by convincing yourself that you were doing this for him, that he needed you and how could you say no to someone who needed you? but no, you knew deep down your relationship with rafe was self-inflicted and self indulgent. if you tried hard enough you could say no, but the thing was that you just really didn't want to. and that was the most embarrassing part.

you liked getting treated like you were everything one day, and nothing the next. the feelings rafe made you feel were ones close enough to addiction. the highs were so high, but the lows were low.

rafe patted his lap, signaling for you to come take a seat on his lap. of course you did. "i missed you," rafe placed his hand on your inner thigh.

"missed you too rafe." you were basically now bridal style in his lap, ass on one of his thighs, your legs propped up on the other, and your ams wrapped around his neck. you missed being held like this.

"yeah? how much you miss me?" he had a smirk on his face while looking at you. god he looked so good. you hated how good he always looked.

"i dont know," you giggled softly, "a lot."

"heard you been talking to that pogue," rafe looked into the distance, you could tell he was trying his best to remain calm. "what's his name? pope."

you were confused as to how he would even know that, but to be honest it was probably best you didn't know. "just texting." you immediately defend yourself. "just friendly."

"friendly huh?" rafe scoffs. "do y'know how many guys would love to be 'just friendly' with you?"

"really rafe?" you dropped your legs from his lap. only rafe would invite you over to resolve things just to start another argument.

just as you were about to get up from his lap, he pulled you back down onto it. "cmon don't leave now," rafe moved your hair to the side, leaving the side of your neck that was closest to him on full display. "was just teasin'." his hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.

“i don’t want to be teased.” you sighed under your breath.

“what do you want?”

“i want you to love me.” a singular tear fell down your face, rafe immediately wiping it.

“i do love you,” rafe’s voice was soft in a way you’d never heard before. “i love you more than,” you could tell he was really trying to pick his next words wisely. “i love you more than everything.” rafe kissed you on the cheek, his wet lips colliding with your wet tears.

and maybe that was also half the reason you couldn’t leave rafe. you knew that deep down aside from all the bad things he’s done to you; he has real love in his heart, he just doesn’t know how to show it.

[calypso-rt]

Rafe x Baker!Reader

-> headcanons + blurbs

ꕥ Rafe knew he was done for the moment he tasted Baker!Reader's desserts because if something this sweet could come from her hands, he could only imagine how life-changing it would be to have her heart.

You shouldn’t be here. The thought ran circles in your head as you adjusted the lace on your apron for the tenth time. The waiters sweeping past with trays of champagne looked polished and effortless. Meanwhile, you were you: a Pogue in a borrowed dress under a flour-dusted apron, standing behind a dessert table that probably cost more than your entire bakery. Meanwhile, Rafe noticed you the moment he walked in, your brows knit together in concentration as you adjusted a plate by a fraction of an inch. He lingered, watching as you smoothed your apron, took a deep breath, and finally looked up, only to find him staring. Your eyes widened slightly, and Rafe fought back a small smile. “Hi,” he said, stepping forward before he could think better of it. “Hi,” you echoed, hesitating. You glanced at the empty flute in his hand. “Oh—um, the bar is over there.” Rafe smirked. “Yeah, I know. But I think I’d rather be over here.” Your lips parted slightly, and he felt something warm spread through him at your flustered expression. “I—I’m just the baker,” you said softly, as if that explained why someone like him shouldn’t be talking to someone like you. Rafe tilted his head, intrigued. “So you made all this?” He gestured to the perfectly arranged pastries, the mini cakes adorned with edible gold leaf. You nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “First big event I’ve catered,” you admitted shyly. “I have a little bakery in The Cut, but—” “The Cut?” he repeated, brows lifting slightly. A Pogue. You braced yourself for whatever comment might come next, but Rafe only hummed, reaching past you to pluck a macaron from the tray. You opened your mouth to protest, those were supposed to be served later, but Rafe had already taken a bite. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second, and when they reopened, there was something almost boyish in his expression. “Holy shit,” he muttered, looking down at the macaron like it held the secrets of the universe. A startled laugh escaped your lips. “Good?” Rafe looked at you, serious. “I’d actually fight someone for another one of these.” You shook your head, amused. “Well, you don’t have to. You can just… take one.” Rafe smirked. “Nah, I like the idea of fighting for you.” Your breath hitched slightly, and he didn’t miss the way you quickly looked away, as if you could hide the sudden warmth in your cheeks. Rafe just grabbed another macaron, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m definitely coming to your bakery tomorrow.”

ꕥ Rafe Becomes Baker!Reader's #1 Customer (and Admirer)

The next morning, he actually showed up at your bakery. You were still wiping down the counters, your apron tied neatly over your dress, when the bell above the door chimed. “You’re here early," you blinked in surprise, fingers tightening around your rag. Rafe Cameron, in all his Kook glory, stood in your little bakery like he belonged there. His hair was still damp from a shower, pushed back like he hadn’t quite cared enough to style it, and his shirt was only half-buttoned over his undershirt, like he’d thrown it on in a rush. He looked out of place. And yet, somehow, he also looked… comfortable. “Yeah, I—uh—just need a coffee,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, after a beat, he added, “And like, one of everything.” You stared at him. “One of everything?” Rafe nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Just, y’know… for variety.” Variety. You pressed your lips together, fighting the urge to smile. “Alright, well, it’s gonna take a minute.” “That’s fine.” He rocked back on his heels. “I got time.” And he did have time, apparently. Because after that morning, Rafe Cameron started showing up at your bakery every day. At first, it was just for coffee and a pastry. Then it turned into two pastries. Then three. Then “I’ll just take a whole box.” And then, one morning, you caught him watching as you kneaded dough behind the counter. He was leaning on the display case, elbow propped up, watching you with the kind of lazy, amused smirk that made your stomach do something ridiculous. “What?” you asked, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. Rafe tilted his head. “Nothing.” You narrowed your eyes. “You’re staring.” He grinned. “Yeah, well. It’s interesting.” “Me baking is interesting?” “Kinda,” he said, like it was obvious. “I mean, you get all serious. It’s cute.” You fumbled the dough.

ꕥ Baker!Reader Was a Pogue. Rafe Was a Kook. It Was Complicated.

Rafe leaned against the bakery counter, watching you roll out dough with the kind of focus that made his chest feel tight. Your apron was dusted with flour, a smudge of it on your cheek, and your hands moved with effortless precision. He hated it. Not you... never you. But the fact that you worked so damn hard for so little. That no matter how many hours you poured into this place, it was barely enough to keep the lights on. That your oven broke last week and you had to shut down for two days because you couldn’t afford a repairman right away. He hated that. “You know you’re too good for this side of the island, right?” You glanced up, breath hitching slightly, before rolling your eyes. “I like this side of the island, Rafe.” He drummed his fingers against the counter. “I could buy you a place in Figure Eight.” “No.” “Okay.” He shrugged. “But if you ever change your mind…” You shot him a look, exasperated but amused. “I won’t.” Rafe didn’t push. He never did... not about this, at least. But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. Because every morning, he saw how early you got up. He saw the way you rubbed your sore wrists after hours of kneading dough, the way your eyes dimmed a little when you counted the register and barely made enough to cover next week’s supply order. You were so good at what you did. And yet, the world still made you struggle for it. It pissed him off. And Rafe Cameron hated feeling powerless. So, he did what he could. He came in every day. Bought more than he could eat. Slipped a few extra bills under the register when you weren’t looking. Sent other Kooks your way, dropping your bakery’s name at country club brunches like it was the hottest new trend. And when you got suspicious, when you narrowed your eyes at him after his third suspiciously large order in a week, he just smirked and said, “What? I like good food.” And that you believed. Because he did. But more than that, he liked you.

ꕥ Rafe Started Helping Baker!Reader Out… In His Own Rafe Way.

You sighed as you stared at the absurd stack of cash in the tip jar. Again. “Rafe.” Rafe, who was currently leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee like he hadn’t just dropped an entire hundred-dollar bill for a pastry that cost three bucks, looked up innocently. “What?” You crossed your arms. “This is ridiculous.” “It’s my money,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I do what I want with it.” You narrowed your eyes. “And what you want to do is leave a hundred-dollar tip for a muffin?” “Damn good muffin,” he replied, taking another bite. “Honestly, you should be charging more.” You huffed, shoving the money toward him. “I can’t take this.” Rafe just smirked, tilting his coffee cup toward you in a mock toast. “Good thing I already walked away.” He strolls off smugly, towering over the other customers. You wanted to be mad, but how could you be when you knew exactly what he was doing? And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Because then, suddenly, Kooks started coming in. Rich girls in designer dresses asking about your custom cakes, trust fund guys showing up with their dads’ AmEx cards to place catering orders. At first, you thought maybe people had just noticed your bakery. But then... “Yeah, I don’t care if you don't want cupcakes at your yacht party, you’re ordering from her.” You whipped your head around to see Rafe standing outside the bakery, phone to his ear, already negotiating your next big order. “Rafe,” you hissed, striding up and yanking the phone out of his hand. “I won't charge Kook prices—” “Then I’ll pay the difference,” he said easily. You stared at him, mouth opening and closing. “That’s not how business works.” Rafe shrugged. “It is now.” And what were you supposed to say to that? Because somehow, this was just so him. Helping in the only way he knew how. With money. With influence. With that damn smirk that made you want to yell at him and kiss him at the same time. You shook your head, shoving his phone back at him. “You’re impossible.” He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your favorite customer.”

ꕥ Rafe Bragged About Baker!Reader to Everyone. Constantly.

“She’s the best baker on the island. No—actually? Best in the whole damn country,” Rafe declared, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. Topper rolled his eyes. “Bro, it’s a bakery, not a Michelin-star restaurant.” Rafe scoffed. “Shut up, you wouldn’t know good food if it smacked you in the face. Her croissants? Life-changing. Her cakes? Masterpieces. Like, people should be paying thousands for them.” Kelce raised a brow. “You mean, you pay thousands for them.” Rafe shrugged, unbothered. “Worth every penny.” His friends had never seen him like this: practically glowing whenever he talked about you. It was kind of ridiculous. And it only got worse when you started dating. “Yo, you gotta try this,” Rafe would say, shoving a pastry into someone’s hands before they could protest. “My girl made it. From scratch.” At parties, he’d corner people and pull up pictures on his phone, of cakes, cookies, pastries, like a proud dad showing off his kid’s school projects. One time, you even caught him filming an Instagram story of your bakery’s display case, narrating like a food critic. “Look at that. Perfection. That’s my girl.” And the way he beamed when he called you that? His girl? It made your stomach flip every time. One night, you were curled up on his couch, your head resting on his chest as he scrolled through his phone. “You know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “one day, you’re gonna have your own fancy bakery in Figure Eight. And I’ll be the first one in line every morning.” You snorted. “I like my little bakery in The Cut, Rafe.” He smirked, tightening his arm around you. “Yeah, yeah. But when you expand, just remember who believed in you first.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. Because as much as Rafe loved to brag about you, the truth was, he just really loved you.

A/N: i love them.

[eu-nicola]

non think

summary: your friendship with Rudy began naturally and fluidly, but when his girlfriend's jealousy begins to interfere, tensions arise

warnings: nothing (?)

word counter: 5049

author's note: english is not my first language, this is fiction, don't take it seriously

From the moment you stepped onto the Outer Banks set, you felt that unmistakable energy of a team completely in sync. But even though everything seemed to click, it was Rudy Pankow who you instantly connected with. It wasn’t something you could plan—it just happened naturally.

Your role wasn’t easy. Playing Isabella Cameron, the middle Cameron sibling, meant bringing depth, charisma, and a hint of rebellion that contrasted with Sarah and Rafe but still shared a certain sensitivity with Wheezie. Even though Isabella wasn’t a Pogue like JJ, her connection with him promised to be one of the season’s most interesting twists.

On your first day on set, the nerves were real. This wasn’t your first acting gig, but something about joining a cast with such strong chemistry was intimidating. Rudy was one of the first to approach you.

“New Cameron?” he asked, with that grin of his that always seemed ready to crack a joke.

“The one and only,” you replied, trying to hide your nerves.

He burst out laughing.

“I like it. I’m Rudy, but I guess from now on we’re calling each other JJ and Isabella.”

The conversation flowed like you’d known each other forever. From that moment, it became almost a tradition for the two of you to find each other between takes to talk about scripts, crack jokes, or improvise ridiculous lines just to make the rest of the cast laugh.

One afternoon, during a scene where Isabella and JJ were supposed to argue about something involving Sarah, the directors decided to let you two improvise a bit to explore your characters' dynamic. It was a mess… in the best way possible. Your quick comebacks and Rudy’s ability to keep up with sarcastic remarks had everyone on set laughing. After calling cut, Jonas Pate, one of the show’s creators, came over.

“You two have something special. I think we’re gonna lean into that.”

It wasn’t until weeks later that you understood what he meant. In one of the season two episodes, Isabella and JJ would share an unexpected kiss—a moment that would completely shift their dynamic.

“A kiss?” you asked, stunned after reading the script.

Rudy shot you a playful look.

“What? Not excited? I’m a great kisser.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Your sarcastic tone made him laugh, like always.

Filming that scene was… interesting. Even though you got along great off-camera, you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. But Rudy, ever the charmer, made sure to ease your nerves before the take.

“It’s like we’re mocking the cliché, but with style,” he said, adjusting JJ’s jacket.

The scene turned out so well that the director asked to shoot it from multiple angles. After every take, Rudy would wink at you, making you smile despite yourself. The funny thing was, even though JJ and Isabella’s kiss wasn’t originally meant to happen again in the series, the on-screen chemistry between you two led to more moments like that.

Still, the main storyline for Isabella revolved around Barry, the character who was supposed to be her big love interest. Barry was different, but his relationship with Isabella brought an emotional depth that fans quickly adored.

Even so, every time you and Rudy shared a scene, the vibe on set shifted. There was something contagious about the way you interacted, both on and off camera. It wasn’t uncommon for the other cast members to watch you two during breaks and joke about your 'explosive chemistry.'

“You two would be absolute chaos if they let you,” Chase said one day, watching you rehearse a particularly intense scene.

And he wasn’t wrong. Despite Isabella clearly being paired with Barry, you couldn’t deny that working with Rudy was one of the most fun and genuine parts of the production. That connection eventually led fans to start shipping Isabella and JJ, even though the show’s narrative had other plans.

The on-screen kisses quickly became a recurring topic among the cast and crew.

Everything was going perfectly fine between you and Rudy until the fans started noticing what you and the rest of the cast already knew: your on-screen chemistry was undeniable. Comments on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter exploded as soon as the first kiss scene between Isabella and JJ aired.

'Does anyone else think JJ and Isabella should be endgame?'

'Barry has nothing on JJ-Bella tension. Sorry, not sorry.'

'The way JJ looks at Isabella when she walks away… CHEF’S KISS. I need more of them.'

'I don’t care what anyone says, Rudy and Isabella HAVE to be together, ON and OFF screen.'

At first, the comments didn’t bother you. After all, most of them were about the characters, not you as actors. Even the more insistent ones were easy to brush off. But things changed when fan theories started crossing the line.

'Have you guys noticed how Rudy is always around her in BTS? 👀'

'I refuse to believe there’s nothing going on between them off-screen. Look at their interviews.'

'Sorry, but Rudy’s girlfriend doesn’t hold a candle to her. Stay with Y/N.'

That last comment felt like a trigger. Suddenly, the presence of Rudy’s girlfriend, whose relationship with him had been private and mostly unknown to fans, became glaringly obvious. She hadn’t been around during the first few months of filming, but now she showed up on set often, always quiet but clearly watching everything.

At first, you tried to be friendly. She wasn’t part of the cast, but you understood her wanting to be near Rudy. However, the tension started becoming noticeable when she stopped hiding her discomfort around you.

“So, this is the famous Isabella Cameron?,” she said one afternoon during a break. Her tone was sharp, even though her smile tried to mask it.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me.”You smiled, trying not to let it affect you.

“Well, I hope you don’t take everything the fans say too seriously. Rudy and I have something real, not like those fake kisses you share with him.”

You were caught off guard. It wasn’t like you cared about what she thought, but her comment made it clear she didn’t really know where the line between fiction and reality was. From that moment on, her little digs became more frequent.

One day, while scrolling through your social media, you saw a comment she left under one of your photos promoting the show. It didn’t say much, but the sarcasm was obvious:

"Wow, working with Rudy must be the highlight of your career. You must love it."

Fans, as expected, picked up on it right away. ‘Why’s Rudy’s girlfriend so passive-aggressive towards her?’ was one of the top comments on your profile. You laughed it off, but the whole thing left a bitter taste in your mouth.

The tension hit its peak during one of the more intense scenes between Isabella and JJ, where the two characters had to share an intimate moment in the middle of an argument. You and Rudy had rehearsed the scene, and everything seemed fine until you noticed his sudden change in attitude.

“Everything okay?” you asked him before shooting.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” His answer was short, distant, and not like him at all.

You couldn’t help but think his girlfriend had something to do with it. She was sitting in a corner of the set, arms crossed, watching you both. She wasn’t doing anything obvious, but her presence was enough to throw him off and, by extension, ruin the dynamic you two usually had.

After the scene ended, you confronted him.

“What’s going on with you? We never had problems before, but now it’s like you don’t even want to be around me.”

“It’s not that.” He avoided your gaze, confirming what you already suspected.

“Then what is it? Your girlfriend? Because if it’s about her, I need you to tell me now if we’re going to keep working like we used to or not.”

Rudy sighed, running a hand through his hair. You knew he didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was necessary.

“She just… doesn’t get it. And I don’t want things to get messier than they already are.”

“And what about our work?” you asked, more frustrated than you intended to sound.

He didn’t answer, but his silence was enough to tell you that, fair or not, things wouldn’t go back to the way they were.

After that, Rudy started pulling away not just from you, but from the rest of the cast too. The jokes between takes became less frequent, and the fun improvisations you both used to enjoy practically disappeared. No one said anything, but it was obvious something was wrong.

Social media wasn’t helping. Every time you posted something about the show, fans kept fueling the drama with their theories and comments.

‘Rudy’s girlfriend is definitely behind this. They’re not even in interviews together anymore.’

‘It’s so sad that JJ and Isabella have such good chemistry, but off-camera, it’s a mess.’

You tried to ignore it, but some nights you couldn’t help feeling frustrated. Not because of the comments, but because you missed how things used to be. Rudy was one of the best co-stars you’d ever had, and now it felt like you couldn’t even be friends.

And the worst part? He wasn’t doing anything to fix it.

When the fourth season rolled around, the news hit like a bomb. During a cast table read, the producers announced that JJ Maybank’s arc would come to a tragic end with a heroic death. While everyone murmured in shock, you could only look at him. Rudy sat in silence, arms crossed, eyes glued to the script, avoiding eye contact with everyone—especially you.

“What does this mean?” you asked Jonas directly.

“It was Rudy’s decision,” he replied, with a tone that made it clear he didn’t want to elaborate.

You couldn’t believe it. You’d heard rumors that Rudy wasn’t as excited about continuing on the show, but you always thought they were just that rumors. But now it was clear he’d made the most drastic choice possible.

That night, you couldn’t stay quiet. You found him outside the set, sitting on one of the service stairs, like he was waiting for someone to confront him.

“What the hell are you doing?” you blurted out. He looked up, surprised by your tone, but said nothing. He just shrugged.

“I’ve got nothing left to do here. I’m done.”

That lit a fire in you.

“Done? Are you serious? Rudy, your character is one of the fans’ favorites. JJ still has so much potential, and you’re just letting him die because… what? Because your girlfriend can’t handle us doing our jobs?”

He frowned, clearly annoyed.

“This has nothing to do with her. It’s my decision, and it’s final.”

“Of course, it has to do with her. Ever since she started coming to set, you’ve changed. You’re not the same anymore. You can’t even joke around with me like you used to. Now you’d rather run away than face things.”

Rudy stood up, defensive.

“And what do you expect me to do? Ignore everything? Pretend like I’m not losing my relationship?.”

“You’re not losing your relationship, Rudy. You’re sabotaging your career. And along the way, you’re throwing away everything we had, our friendship, all of it. Why can’t you see that?.”

“Because it’s not as simple for me as it is for you,” he said, raising his voice. There was frustration and pain in his tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“It means not everyone can separate things like you. Do you know how hard it’s been for me? Everyone assumes there’s something between us, like there’s more… And she sees it, the fans see it. No matter how much I deny it, someone’s always pointing it out.”

The intensity of his words caught you off guard, but you weren’t about to back down.

“So what? You’re just going to throw it all away? Let her control every decision you make? That’s not professional. It’s childish.”

He shook his head like your words couldn’t break through the wall he’d built.

“Do what you want, but don’t expect me to stay quiet while you ruin something that meant so much to all of us,” you said before turning and walking away.

From that moment on, things went downhill fast. What used to be a natural and fun connection turned into pure tension. Arguments became frequent, both on and off set. Something as simple as a rehearsal could turn into a battleground, and it wasn’t long before it started affecting the whole team.

In scenes where Isabella and JJ had to interact, the tension was so obvious that even the directors began to notice something was off. After weeks of trying, they decided to use doubles for the shots where the two of you shared the screen.

The rumor spread quickly among the crew. People whispered behind your backs, some blaming Rudy, others blaming you, but most were just confused. It wasn’t easy to explain how one of the cast’s most beloved dynamics had turned into something so unsustainable.

By the time the last scene rolled around, the atmosphere on set was heavy. That day, JJ’s final scene was being filmed—a moment that would mark the end of an era for the show and the cast. While everyone tried to keep the energy upbeat and positive, all you could feel was an overwhelming emptiness.

It wasn’t just about JJ leaving; it was because Rudy was leaving too. Even though your relationship had deteriorated to the point of being unrecognizable, you couldn’t help but remember how things had started: the laughs, the improvisations, the jokes that even got the directors to join in. Now, none of that was left.

The scene you were filming was heartbreaking, probably the most emotional one of the entire season. JJ sacrificed himself to save Isabella and the other Pogues, dying heroically. You, as Isabella, had to hold him in your arms while he said his final words.

When the director called action, you threw yourself into character completely. Isabella was desperate, her hands covered in blood as she tried to hold back tears.

“No, JJ, don’t do this to me,” you said, your voice breaking. The script called for you to cling to him, as if you could stop the inevitable.

Rudy, as JJ, looked at you with a weak smile the same one that had always defined his character, even in the darkest moments.

“Don’t cry, Bella. You always knew I’d do something stupid like this.” He coughed, mimicking the character’s weakness, but there was something else in his voice something that felt way too real.

“Don’t say that!” you screamed as Isabella, feeling a knot in your stomach that went beyond acting. Tears streamed down your face, and for a moment, you wondered if they were yours or your character’s.

“Take care of them... all of them.” He tried to laugh, but his voice faltered. JJ’s eyes closed, and the camera captured your devastated face as you hugged him one last time.

“Cut!” the director yelled.

The set erupted in applause. The crew, the cast—everyone knew they had just filmed something unforgettable. But you couldn’t move. You kept holding onto Rudy, trying to steady your breathing, because even though the scene was over, the emotions were still there.

“You were incredible,” someone said, but you didn’t register who. You barely heard Rudy mumble a “thank you” to everyone as he stood up and walked off set.

As soon as you snapped out of character, the real tears came. You weren’t one to cry in front of everyone, so you slipped away from the set and found a quiet corner where you could be alone. Sitting on one of the folding chairs, away from the lights and noise, you let the emotions take over.

“Are you okay?” Madison asked, approaching cautiously.

You looked up at her and tried to smile, but you couldn’t.

“Yeah, just... haven’t gotten much rest.”

Madison nodded and stayed quiet beside you. You knew she didn’t want to push you but was still worried. After a while, she gave your shoulder a squeeze and went back to the set, leaving you with your thoughts.

Later, when everyone was gathering to say goodbye to Rudy, you couldn’t bring yourself to go near him. You watched from a distance as he was surrounded by hugs, encouragement, and smiles. He seemed happy—or at least relieved. But to you, it all felt like a façade.

You knew you’d eventually have to face him, but you were too angry to do it now. Every time someone asked if you were going to say goodbye, you just answered, “Maybe later.”

The anger you felt toward Rudy had become constant. No matter how much you tried to justify it or make sense of it, it always led back to the same thing: he acted like none of this mattered. Like losing his friends, his job, and everything you’d built together meant nothing.

But what bothered you most wasn’t just his apparent indifference it was how, deep down, you found yourself wanting him. You hated yourself for it. You tortured yourself with thoughts that if things had been different if his girlfriend wasn’t in the picture, if he could see things the way you did—you wouldn’t be here now. But you knew he wasn’t that kind of person, which is why you’d always tried to give him the best advice, even if it hurt.

The night before Rudy officially left the set, he came to find you. You had just finished packing up your things and were walking to the parking lot when you saw him waiting by your car.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his expression unfamiliar. He looked exhausted, almost desperate.

“What for?” you shot back, crossing your arms. Sarcasm had become your go-to defense. “To have one last argument? That seems to be all we do lately.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t want to argue. I just... I need to explain myself.”

You were caught off guard by that. You hesitated for a moment before tilting your head toward the passenger seat.

“Talk.”

He leaned against your car, staring at the ground before finally speaking.

“I know you think I don’t care about any of this. That I’m just walking away because none of it matters to me. But that’s not true.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your disbelief.

“Oh, really? Because it sure seems like you don’t care. You’ve distanced yourself from everyone, didn’t even try to fix things, and now you’re just leaving. What do you expect us to think?”

“It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just... I don’t know how to handle it,” he admitted, with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in him for a long time.

You stared at him, trying to figure out if he really meant it or if it was just another excuse.

“Rudy, we’ve all tried to help you. Madison, Chase, even the directors. We all wanted to help, but you wouldn’t listen to anyone. And you can’t blame us for being upset when it seems like all you care about is keeping someone happy who doesn’t even understand what you do.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it sound,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask to compete with fans, theories, or with you.”

“With me?” you asked, stepping closer to him, feeling anger boil inside you again. “Are you seriously saying this is my fault?”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, but it was too late.

“Listen, I never tried to make you choose between your career and your relationship. In fact, I always told you that you could have both if you just took a second to put things into perspective. But you didn’t. You chose to pull away, not just from me, but from everyone. And now, you’re leaving. So tell me, what else do you want me to do?”

For a moment, he didn’t seem to have an answer. He just looked at you, his lips slightly parted, like he was searching for the right words.

“I want you to understand that this wasn’t an easy decision,” he finally said. “And I want you to know that I never wanted us to end up like this.”

You laughed, though there was nothing funny about the situation.

“Is that it? You want my forgiveness? Or are you expecting me to sit here feeling sorry for myself because you decided to throw everything away?”

He took a step toward you, but you stepped back.

“No. I’ve had enough. Do what you have to do. Go live your life, but don’t expect me to sit here waiting for you to realize you made a mistake. Because you did. Not just with me, but with everyone who cared about you here.”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue. He just nodded slowly, like he was accepting your words.

“Goodbye,” he said, with a sadness he hadn’t shown before.

“Goodbye, Rudy,” you replied.”

After that night, Rudy disappeared from your life. No immediate messages, no attempts to reconnect—at least not in the first few weeks. You didn’t reach out either. You’d made everything clear that last time, and you didn’t want to go back to a cycle of arguments that never seemed to end.

But as the weeks went by and the Outer Banks team started gearing up for the promotion of the new season, something inevitable happened: contact between you two. The first time you saw a message from him, you were going through emails, looking for info about the upcoming red carpet event.

It was simple, almost casual.

Rudy: “Hey. Hope you’re doing okay. How’s everything going?”

You read it a couple of times, trying to decide if it was worth replying. You knew he’d probably written and rewritten that message several times before sending it, but you still weren’t ready to fully open that door again. Finally, you typed:

You: “All good. You?”

It took him days to reply. When he did, it was just as brief.

Rudy: “Good too. Thanks for asking.”

It didn’t seem like much, but for someone like Rudy, who always avoided uncomfortable conversations, it was something. The messages continued—spaced out, always short. He’d ask how work was going; you’d reply politely, sometimes returning the question, other times leaving the thread hanging. It didn’t feel like a conversation between friends, more like an attempt to hold onto something that wasn’t really there anymore.

When the first promotional event for the new season rolled around, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw him. The whole cast was there—except Rudy—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up. Even though he wasn’t actively part of the show anymore, his character was still important, and the producers wanted him there to honor that legacy.

The anxiety hit days before the event. Even though you’d managed to respond to some of his messages neutrally, the thought of seeing him in person made your heart race. You didn’t know how you’d react. Would you ignore him? Act like nothing happened? Talk?

The day came quicker than you’d hoped. You got ready in your hotel room, surrounded by stylists and makeup artists doing their thing while you stared at your reflection in the mirror, lost in thought. You wore a stunning dress, something that screamed strength and confidence, but inside, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

When you arrived at the event, the usual chaos of red carpets consumed you—flashes, photographers yelling, rapid-fire interviews. Everything seemed to be going as expected until you saw him. Rudy was on the other side of the carpet, talking to a group of reporters. He wore a simple but sharp suit, and while his smile was polite, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite figure out.

Madison, standing next to you, nudged you lightly.

“There he is,” she murmured, not needing to clarify who she meant.

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

You knew you’d eventually have to cross paths with him, but you avoided it as much as you could. There were interviews to do, group photos to take, fans to greet, and you stayed as far away from him as possible the whole time.

The red carpet premiere was everything you’d expected—flashes, shouting fans, excitement everywhere. But for you, it all felt distant. Rudy and you barely glanced at each other the entire time. It was like you were both in your own worlds, aware of the crowd but completely detached from everything else.

There was an awkward tension in the air, one you couldn’t ignore. The pain from the past months was still there, but it wasn’t something you were willing to show in public. The press team and photographers fired off quick questions, and while the flashes lit up everyone’s faces, you responded just enough, smiling when necessary. Still, Rudy’s presence, even from a distance, made you feel shaky.

Every now and then, your eyes met his—brief, almost fleeting—but always heavy with something you couldn’t name. He didn’t approach you, didn’t try to break the ice. He kept his distance, and everything between you stayed frozen, like time had stopped. The laughter and chatter around you felt mechanical, as if all your emotions were locked away in a room neither of you wanted to enter.

It wasn’t until you moved inside the venue for the screening that things shifted. The photographers were still snapping group photos, this time with the entire cast. A bunch of people surrounded you, and among them, somehow, was Rudy. You didn’t even notice when he got closer, but when one of the photographers gestured for everyone to squeeze in, Rudy slid in beside you. Without a word, he put his hand on your waist, stepping closer to position himself next to you. The move caught you off guard.

The photographer, clearly waiting for that moment, shouted instructions.

“Closer, please!” he called as flashes started going off again.

Instinctively, you leaned into Rudy, the heat of his body almost too much, a reminder of everything you’d once shared. The closeness made you uneasy, but it also surprised you how natural it felt for him. Like nothing had changed. Like everything was fine.

The flashes kept coming. Then, in the middle of it all, Rudy leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible over the chaos of the cameras.

“Just for tonight,” he murmured, with a faint but genuine smile, like he was trying to ease the tension.

You froze for a second, staring at him. Annoyance bubbled inside you, but you knew this was part of the job. It was a moment neither of you could avoid, no matter how much you wished you could.

“Just for tonight,” you repeated, more to yourself than to him, taking a deep breath as you forced a smile onto your face.

The photographer kept directing the group, asking for different poses, more smiles, more closeness. A part of you wanted to pull away, but another part knew that would only make things worse. So you went with it, doing what was expected, perfect smile, flawless posture, all while Rudy’s hand stayed on your waist, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the photographer signaled that the shoot was done. Rudy’s hand dropped from your waist, but he didn’t step away. He looked at you, his gaze holding too many unspoken words.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low, meant only for you.

You looked at him, feeling the words catch in your throat. There was something ironic about that question. You knew the answer wasn’t as simple as “yes.” Everything between you two was so tangled, so complicated, that words seemed pointless.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though it didn’t feel true. The answer came out more robotic than honest, but you weren’t willing to give him more than that.

Once again, the distance between you both became tangible. Rudy didn’t push. He gave you one last look before turning back to the group, rejoining the rest of the cast. You, on the other hand, stayed there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

Even though you’d had to interact with him for work, the frustration lingered in your chest.

The night went on, and you knew you’d have to face him again at some point. The red carpets, the events, the interviews—it was all part of the job. But at the end of the day, all that was left between you two was the weight of a past you still didn’t know how to let go of.

[honeychamomile1]

Odd One Out

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Reader feels invisible around the Pogues.

Warnings: Crying, feeling strongly excluded, comfort, mention of disease, etc.

Note: I know this wasn’t part of my “Future Stories” post, but it’s been a side story for too long so I decided to post it! Hope you like it!

Masterlist

“I’m tellin’ ya, pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, that’s uh,” Pope chuckled at the silly conversation of debate whether the topping belongs on the delicious food or not before finishing his sentence, “the end of discussion. Debate closed.”

The whole room was still trying to wear off its laughter, a few people still going off in a fit before calming down again.

The girl was laughing too, just a lot softer and less full of….what’s the word….happiness.

Most of the time she didn’t know what the jokes were about, or the little references they would whisper to each other were on the topic of. It didn’t help the fact that she was sitting away from the majority of the group, the one sitter arm chair away from the couch they crowded.

She still remembers the encounter of them practically pushing her away from the group, forcing her to sit on the chair alone. She had walked in with them, all of them still laughing at some joke JJ said but of course she couldn’t get a word in on what he spoke at all, for she was always in the back of the group anyhow. The friends had walked in the house, one by one plopping on the couch or on the floor in front of it, so there wasn’t a single little space for her to squeeze in.

If she thought back deeper and shut her eyes, she could still feel the stare they laid upon her, waiting to see her point of action towards the matter. It was almost like they didn’t like her, like if she went near one of the particular that very person would be the unlucky girl or boy to have to deal with her for the rest of the hang out.

So yeah, her cheeks flushed deep red as she stumbled over crossed legs and ankles towards the back of the room, muttering soft pathetic apologies before sitting in the very chair she is sitting in now.

Now it wasn’t so bad, just that she was in the back, meaning all she could see were backs of heads and once in a while profiles. So the bit of participation she wished she had was no longer available, so now she was sitting in the chair, her legs crossed apple sauce style so they wouldn’t accidentally kick someone.

JJ was so close. So close that all she had to do in order to talk to him was tap him on the shoulder. He would turn around and talk to her and smile, giving her one of those blue eye sparkles. Maybe then she’d-

If she kept thinking like this she’d never be able to participate in the conversation. So she forced out a chuckle, trying to ease herself in.

Maybe she could squeeze her own voice in with all the others? If there’s room for them there has to be room for her too, right?

“One time I went to a pizza shop and-“

Her voice dyed out, the response being absolutely nothing. No eye contact, no expression change, not even a glance from anyone, almost like they didn’t even hear her.

She was speaking loud enough, the same volume of everyone else, but she also didn’t want to talk over the whole group just for a grab of attention.

So the conversation she wasn’t included in continued, someone else’s voice covering hers.

That someone else being Kiera, who of course everyone has to pay attention to. “Yeah, I agree, no more pineapple on pizza talk, maybe we should get actual pizza.” She suggested, and everyone loved the sound of that.

So did she, her stomach being the other thing she was thinking about besides the fact she wasn’t being included. She got up with the others, heading out the door behind JJ.

If she just tapped him on the shoulder-

He closed the door. Maybe he didn’t see her, since there was a corner to go around before exiting the house, but he didn’t forget about her, right?

She stared at the closed door, the past events causing small tears to arise in her eyes.

No.

She can’t cry just because someone closed the door in her face. It was such a small thing, a small action of a mistake he might’ve made. She almost expected him to come back, staring at the handle to see if it would twist, awaiting his face to pop in and apologize for the little thing he did.

But he never came.

She took a sharp breath in, reaching forward for the handle herself and leaving the house.

The group was outside piling into the Twinkie, talking about. She went to the side door too, hoping she could squeeze in somewhere.

But all the seats were full, and all the pitiful eyes were on her.

“Oh, there’s no room. Maybe you could drive in your car and meet us there?” Sarah suggested, and it was the first time that day they spoke directly to her. And it should’ve been something she enjoyed, like a little invitation to join the conversation or an offer to squeeze next to someone, them willing to be a little bit uncomfortable just so she could join.

But it was something she wished didn’t happen, because why did she even go to the side of the car in the first place? Did she really think there would be room for her?

“Or someone could squeeze over..?” Sarah trailed off, looking over at the rooms of people, and the girl couldn’t help but notice how John B moved closer to the edge with the window, covering a small space. Her heart broke.

“Or ya could sit on my lap, Princess.” She heard JJ chuckle, and she glanced at him, her broken little heart believing him for a second, her cheeks softly flushing, before realizing it was a joke. Some people laughed, Kie smacking JJ on the arm but there was a smirk on her lips.

The girl cleared her throat awkwardly, fiddling with her hands, all eyes still on her.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna go anymore, I’ll just go home…I’m not feeling so well.” She had to come up with some excuse, some ticket to get out of there, not like they would miss her at all.

She just walked away, heading to the sidewalk to walk home. Alone.

No one wished her well, despite her lie, but she still wished to at least get a “get well soon” or a “goodbye”.

Nothing. Just pity looks as she walked away, not long before chatter filled the car once more and they drove off.

She didn’t feel like eating anymore, despite her stomach yelling at her because she missed the only chance to eat; they would probably make her pay for her own meal anyway.

So she headed home, arms crossed as tears finally made their way down her cheeks. It hurt, the concept of not being included. She was the nickel out of all the pennies. They were all tan skin and smiles, considering themselves lucky because they found each other, very similar to being lucky when you find a penny. But she was all silver and plain, having a different engraving on her and being a different size than everyone else; they were all small and sweet, yet she was the biggest fool out of all of them.

She hated being a nickel. What did she have to do to be a penny?

She didn’t know, and that right there made her cry harder. She wiped at the tears but nothing worked, for whole rivers were already down her face by now. Her heart cracked, she felt it, because she knew if John B moved over just a little there would be enough room for her to sit with them.

But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to sit next to her, like she was some sort of disgusting disease that he didn’t want to catch.

All she wanted was to be included, to feel loved and fit in by them. But she’ll always be the odd one out.

She fell asleep crying, and woke up hungry since she skipped dinner the day before.

She got out of bed, seeing her red-eyed self in the mirror while brushing her teeth.

She decided to go out today, to JJ’s house.

Now, it didn’t seem like a good decision, but she needed comfort and he was the only person she knew that would provide it. Maybe she would tell him how she’s feeling, not the crying all the way home part, and he would assure her he likes her in the group.

At least that’s what her brain told her he’d say.

Because her mother wouldn’t understand, plus she had other things to deal with, and she didn’t want to bother her father with all the work loads he had on his mind.

But JJ, he was the shiniest penny of all of them, and he seems like the only person to trust. Sadly she didn’t forget about the joke he made the day prior, suggesting she sat on his lap, but it was a one time thing and he could’ve been peer pressured to make it.

That’s what her brain kept telling her.

But the morning was sunny and warm, practically begging for her to enjoy it so she couldn’t refuse.

She put on some Jean shorts and a sun shirt, putting some knitted bracelets on her wrist because she saw everyone else wearing one; plus they were fun to make.

She had made one for JJ, his two favorite colors she overheard him reveal tied into the bracelet. She was gonna bring it to his house, maybe have the courage to give it to him.

She got to his house on foot, spotting his blob of blonde hair behind his car hood, where it normally was.

She shyly made her way over, gazing at his car to pass time. She liked how rusty it was, showing its age but it was still quite clean, like it was his prize possession. (It probably was)

“She looks good, doesn’t she?”

She flinched, looking over at him and making eye contact. His blues were something she admired, but looking directly into them overwhelmed her so she looked away. He chuckled.

One of the main reasons why she went to him was because JJ was the type of person who could talk to anybody. He knew the words to say or the way to talk to make the person comfortable (friend wise that is.)

She hoped he would do just that while he talks to her, and so far so good.

She nodded in response, hands in her back pockets of her shorts and fiddling with the bracelet she made him.

“Yeah, looks great.” She assured, despite the fact that she knew he already knew that, but then again it was all worth the smirk he gave in response, leaning back into the hood.

“What’s wrong with it?” She had the courage to ask, hands out of her pockets now and fingers fiddling together.

He shook his head. “Absolutely nothin’, just had to replace the engine.”

She smiled softly at that, glad that there wasn’t anything severely wrong with his car. “That’s good.”

He nodded, clearly half listening but she knew it was only because he was so focused on the task at hand.

They fell into silence for a little bit, and she was kinda glad he didn’t ask why she was there, mainly because she needed time to build up the courage to start the topic.

“Hey, JJ?” She blurted out, forcing her lips to move. Her heart started beating quite quickly. He looked up at her briefly at the acknowledgment before glancing back down, letting her know he was listening.

“Mm?” He hummed.

“Um,” she started, fiddling with her hands harder than before and trying to ignore the surprisingly annoying racing of her heart. “I noticed yesterday-“

“You noticed the toilet paper I put on John B’s shoe? You didn’t tell him, did you?” He interrupted, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. She’s always wanted an eye sparkle from him, that meant the topic was mischievous and exciting for him.

But now wasn’t the time, for she needed to get to the point before her courage wore off. “Well, no, I didn’t tell him, but-“

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I wanted it to be there when we went to get pizza, which…”

He slowly trailed off, realizing she wasn’t there when they went out.

She swallowed nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. “Yeah, whatever, anyway, I really need to talk to you about something.”

She was satisfied that she could get that sentence out, for the courage in her chest hasn’t left yet.

His face drew back, twisting with confusion but he looked okay with it. “Okay, what’s up, sugar?” He said casually, leaning back down and popping the old engine out, lifting it before placing on the ground.

Her cheeks flushed red at the nickname, but brushed it off so she could stay on task. She kept telling herself that talking to him would help, so she really wanted to get her point across.

“Um, well, I’m feeling a bit, I don’t know, like I don’t…belong.”

The word: belong. It was something she always wanted to do, something she would die just for a taste of being it. It was something she so wanted to be that she held the word close to her heart, holding onto it tightly so it wouldn’t leave her. It was slowly fighting back against her grip ever since she met the group, yet she wanted friends so badly she kept trying.

She stared at JJ to see his reaction, watching as he lifted the new engine towards the car hood. He must have felt her stare because why else would he look up, eyes looking as clueless as ever.

“Did you say something?” He said, scratching his head, closing the hood.

“What?” She pathetically whispered, tears welling up but she blinked them away. She cleared her throat. “N-no, I didn’t say anything. I was gonna say I made this for you.”

Her voice was soft and helpless, setting the bracelet on the now closed hood of the car after taking it out of her pocket. He stared at it, eyes softening slightly before looking up, meeting her glossy eyes.

“I-I hope you like it,” She said, voice thick and her lips were quivering, tears so close to bursting themselves out.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” He said, stepping around his car and reaching for her, but she snatched her wrist out of his reach.

“You weren’t listening to me!” She sputtered. “Just like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could get out because he was in shock at her outburst. Normally she is the quiet cute girl in the corner, now her eyebrows were furrowed in anger and her cheeks were red. Smoke was practically coming out of her ears.

“Sorry?” She quoted. “I have been feeling like this for weeks, and I finally had the courage to talk to someone, that someone being you of all people because I had a speck of hope that you would listen but when I do you can’t do that just this once?!”

“Feeling like what?” He said- almost demanded- his eyebrows furrowing. She threw her arms in the air in asasperation at his response, like out of the whole outburst she expressed the only thing he heard was that little part. “Does it even matter?” She almost yelled. “You had one chance to listen and you didn’t take it. If you cared you would’ve listened.”

“I do care, sugar,” he desperately assured. “I didn’t know you needed my full attention. I should’ve listened, and I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore, forget about it, JJ,” she said, wiping her cheeks before turning away.

“No no talk to me, princess. I’m listening I promise,” he whispered, dirty fingers curved around her wrist.

She turned to him, desire for someone to listen to her was strong.

Once he knew she wasn’t gonna leave, he let go of her wrist, the warmth from his touch leaving her. She fiddled with her fingers, looking into his eyes that seemed so sincere.“You promise?”

He nodded almost instantly. “I promise.”

He even held out his pinkie to her, making her laugh but seal the promise nonetheless.

The rest of the morning they sat and talked, JJ’s smile as big as ever and the threads tied around his wrist.

She laughed.

Laughed.

And she actually got to hear his jokes for once. The ones she missed, misheard, and never repeated for her.

And those sounds were as genuine as they could get, her heart singing as he gave her a real eye twinkle.

It was at that moment her heart fell, fell hard for the boy next to her.

And at their next hangout she didn’t have to sit on the chair alone like she normally does, for now she got to see on Maybank’s lap (as offered) as she laughed with the group and got to have her say.

She felt loved. Felt like she was included.

And, most important of all, she felt belonged.

-Tell me what you think? 🫶🏻