#sarah you are the most unhinged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obxsummer · 3 months ago

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wave of you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: more treasure hunting continues but your group takes time to enjoy the perfect surf day. it was perfect, that is until topper’s girlfriend becomes unhinged and you find yourself in the middle of an argument with… rafe cameron coming to your defense?

warnings: the usual obx angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of PTSD, cursing, crying. yeah.

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Sarah and John B had beat your half of the group back to the house, Kiara having been running the shop in the unexpected absences. After taking a shower to scrub the hospital off of you and changing into the comfiest clothes you could find, you joined everyone in the living area where everyone was sharing their half of the past few hours.

John B and Sarah had taken the amulet to get an inscription translated into what you found out said Where the living and dead collide, the gatekeeper will guide the way, whatever that meant. They were kicked out shortly after revealing where the object was from, the individual telling them it was cursed.

“Genrette was obsessed with Blackbeard, so maybe directions to his treasure?” John B theorized as he handed the amulet over to JJ.

“So, what is this treasure?” Cleo continued, “Gold?”

Pope shook his head. “No, I remember hearing something about like a… a crown, blue crown?”

His suggestion was immediately vetoed by Cleo and Kiara, neither girl believing a word he offered. You sighed and leaned back into the cushions of the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around you as you listened to them bicker.

“Apparently, it is the most sought out artifact in the ancient world,” John B read off a page of a book he’d grabbed from the shelf. You squinted at the object in his hand, quietly asking yourself when your brother of all people read a book. “The blue crown was created for Darius the Great of Persia over 3,000 years ago.”

“That’s worth more than 50k.”

John B ignored JJ’s comment and continued, “It was said to possess the blessing of the gods themselves, granting the wearer immense favor and rare invincibility. Holy shit, look at this. Xerxes, the son of Darius the Great, he was a badass. He’s wearing it. Uh, Alexander the Great, beat the shit out of everybody. He’s wearing it. Julius Caesar, also a badass, murdered a bunch of people.”

“Dad told you all of this?” You asked him as he read the names off the pages. Pushing yourself to your feet, you moved to stand behind JJ and rested your chin on his shoulder as you looked over at what they were reading. He moved you into his side, thumb brushing your hip bone as he tugged you close.

John B shook his head at your question, glancing up at you. “No, no. I don’t remember any of this, I just know it granted wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“Hold on, it says right here the crown was lost sometime in the 1700s, but it was rumored to be hunted down by… Blackbeard.”

There was no argument that the direction of the treasure hunt had been changed when it came to a priceless item versus 50k. The whole night shifted, turning into a bonfire and celebration between the group that brought everyone’s spirits back up.

“Oh, come on!” You complained as Pope smacked your burnt marshmallow from his face, sending the treat into the grass a few feet away. “Pope, that was my fuckin’ marshmallow!”

“I’ll make you a different one! The burnt ones are ass!”

You groaned in response and fake pouted before shaking the can of beer in your hand to find it empty. The six of you had been out here since sundown, embracing the thrill of the evening and what lay ahead. Despite hating the danger your group always seemed to head into, you missed this feeling of nostalgia and anticipation.

JJ’s hands grabbed your hips as you got up from your folding chair, bumping into him as you did so. You covered his hand in the one that didn’t have an empty can and smiled at him. “My knight in shining armor.”

“At your service, baby,” He replied instantly, trading your empty can for the fresh one he had next to him. Once it was securely in your hand, he tugged on your waist until you fell into his lap, a squeal escaping your lips before the two of you lost balance with the momentum and tumbled backward into the grass.

You screamed in shock, your beer flying away in the chaos as you rolled off JJ who was high off his ass and giggling loudly at the fall. You couldn’t stop the laughter escaping your lips and dropped into the grass completely, overwhelmed with happiness for the first time in what felt like forever. “You dumbass!”

“C’mere!”

Another yelp escaped you as JJ swooped you off the lawn and over his shoulder, hauling your ass toward the house with no explanation.

“Oh come on!” John B groaned and covered his eyes with his hand as JJ carried you out of view, various whistles from the ground following. “Fuckin’ hate you, JJ!”

JJ flipped your brother off with his free hand and walked into the house, closing the door with his shoe before he gently placed your feet on the ground. You grinned up at him, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

“Did you need something?” You teased and faked innocence as you fluttered your eyelashes to drive the effect home.

JJ tsked his tongue, his fingers cupping your neck before he kissed you roughly, moaning at the way your body fell into him without hesitation. You knew he wasn’t going to hold back very long and there was a 100% chance your friends could walk in at any moment.

“Upstairs,” You rushed out as his lips dropped to your neck, nipping softly at your skin to make your knees even weaker. “Jay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, his kisses stopping long enough for him to crouch and loop his arms around your ass and waist and pick you up, your ankles crossing behind his back, supported by his strong grip. “Lemme love on you.”

You hummed, kissing him again and biting gently on his bottom lip in response to his request. “You can love on me as much as you went when it’s not somewhere John B can see it.”

JJ groaned and shook his head. “Please stop bringing up your brother when we’re making out.”

You laughed loudly as he started walking up the stairs to your room, his kisses lingering on your collarbone and his grip tight as he did. The lack of light was welcomed as you landed on the bed with a laugh, barely having a second to pull your shirt off and drop your shoes before JJ was hovering over you with a hungry desire in his eyes and a whole night to make you his, again and again, just as he intended to.

The next morning was a haze of blissful kisses and a warm shower between you and JJ, the house still silent as everyone slept. Your boyfriend wrapped you in a soft towel, pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you he was going to check on the shack. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes before he was running through the house, waking everyone up and telling them about the swell.

The warm sunlight was shining through the window as you slipped on a swimsuit for the day, taking the time to brush your skin with sunscreen and grabbing one of John B’s lightweight shirts to slip on over your shoulders. The boys were already down prepping the boards with Kiara as you and Sarah took the time to make breakfast for everyone, knowing food would easily be forgotten in the excitement of the day.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you guys are seriously surfing today?” Pope walked across the screened-in porch while shoving his backpack on his shoulders.

You frowned at the sight of him in everyday clothes and not swimwear, “And you aren’t?”

Ever since you were little, you’d spent every surf day with the boys and Kiara. It was like the second the news of a perfect swell hit town, all bets were off and the beach was calling your name. Pope was usually the one to drag you out of bed for it, so to see him walking away was a surprise.

“Well, I don’t want to sell the million dollars I have in my hand for 50k so, I’m gonna look into this.” He held up the amulet for emphasis.

JJ looked just as confused as you did. “Wait, Pope. Didn’t you hear me? It’s a perfect swell day.”

“Yeah, and there will be other swell days.”

Low whistles and ‘ooohs’ followed his statement, the group collectively disagreeing with his mindset. John B turned to Sarah from his spot where he was waxing your board. “You wanna maximize beach day?”

Sarah pursed her lips. “I wanna maximize this tan.”

You bit into your toast and pushed at her with your toes. “Sarah Cameron, I know you used to be a Kook but you’ll learn how to surf the Pogue way today.”

She rolled her eyes in fake annoyance before pushing at your foot, sending you off balance from your stool as you yelped before laughing.

“Well, everyone have fun maximizing.”

“Wait!” You called out to Pope as he turned on his heels to leave. “Where’s Cleo? I have to see her on a board. She’s gotta be insane with it.”

Pope shrugged, “She texted me, said she’s looking for bait in The Cut.”

“Lame, tell her we’re closed!” Kie argued back.

JJ continued to try and convince Pope to join you all on the beach, but the boy wasn’t having it, his mind stubborn on exploring more info on the amulet for the day. He informed you all he texted Cleo to meet up before hopping on his bike and disappearing from view.

You weren’t sure how the boys managed to get all the boards on the Twinkie, or honestly, you didn’t want to know, but the second the sand was in between your toes, you didn’t have a care in the world. Surfing was always one of your favorite pastimes. The sunshine, the water, and the feeling of landing a good wave were so rewarding.

John B had managed to find the group an open spot on the beach to set up chairs and the umbrella he almost took JJ’s eye out with. You took off in the sand and dove headfirst into the water, relishing in the refresh it gave you as the water crossed over. It had been so long since you had nothing to do besides lay in the salty water.

The peace didn’t last long, of course. Topper and his rowdy group pulled up in their newer vehicles, purposely parking close to your group as if it would make a point. You rolled your eyes at the sight of them, knowing this wouldn’t end well because it just never really did.

JJ met you in the water with both of your boards in hand, but your focus wasn’t on him. It was on the group piling out of the cars which happened to include Rafe Cameron.

“I won’t let anything happen,” JJ attempted to reassure you as he stopped to kiss your temple, sliding your board into your hands. You gave him a weak nod but didn’t move your gaze as you watched Topper move closer to your setup where he intercepted John B.

Your hands moved to give JJ the board back as you walked out of the water to approach the two boys. You didn’t need John B doing anything irrational, especially if Topper pushed his buttons the way he normally did.

“Nice of you to join the party,” Topper acknowledged as you came to stand next to your brother with crossed arms.

“Top.” You nodded in his direction, not backing down in your defensive approach.

Topper motioned toward John B, “I was just hashing things out, you know. Friendly banter to get things even.”

“Do you really think it’s even, Topper?” You asked him as the list began to run through your head. Every time you guys got the slight upper hand, the Kooks took you down two pegs.

Topper pursed his lips and looked away from you. “Uh, let’s go down the list. You guys sunk my boat.”

“Allegedly.”

“Then you cold-cocked me and put me in the ER, remember?” He looked at John B pointedly like it was the worst thing ever.

“You beat the shit out of Pope,” You reminded him. “Or, how about pushing John B off a two-story building, hmm?”

Topper rolled his eyes and pointed behind John B. “Look, I was with her first, bro. If your girl comes to me, if she can’t resist….”

“Real mature of you, Topper. Oh, by the way, thanks for burning our house down,” John B replied, his fingers twitching to throw the first punch, but he wouldn’t with you standing next to him.

You sneered at Topper’s attitude and stepped forward to block John B in case the emotions got the best of either boy. “Just here to surf, Top. Unless you had more to say?”

Topper’s eyes glanced behind you before he cleared his throat and refocused with no further argument. “No, no. Just here to surf.”

You hummed in agreement as he turned to walk away, mumbling something about having a good chat. Waiting until he was far enough on his side, you shifted back around to see JJ standing a few feet behind you, glare sharp enough to kill the Kook. No wonder Topper about shit his pants.

“C’mon.” John B grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the scene. You didn’t miss the way Rafe stared at you the entire time despite the new brunette he seemed to have attached to his hip. It took one glance to know she wasn’t a Kook, especially with the obvious discomfort she held around the group.

Pushing their presence to the back of your mind, you allowed John B and JJ to tug you out into the warm sea, Kiara and Sarah following behind the three of you as the waves started to kick up. It became a routine of swapping waves, dropping in amongst your friends’ cheers and applause. Even Sarah managed to grab a couple and remain on her feet for the course into shore, which had all of you celebrating.

Hours passed between the sun and waves before you flopped on a towel and treated yourself to a midday nap. Sarah had the right idea when she said she would maximize her tan, the warm rays lulling you to sleep before you knew it.

JJ pulled himself out of the water, brushing as much from his hair as possible so he didn’t look like a wet dog. He didn’t feel half bad dropping in on a wave that Topper supposedly thought he could claim. JJ laughed to himself; the damn Kook should know better than to try to out-surf a Pogue.

His eyes caught sight of you sound asleep and cuddled up on the oversized towel you insisted on grabbing for yourself at the thrift store. It was rare nowadays for you to sleep without someone by your side, especially at night. There were too many times when you’d crash on the hammock before the group came in and you woke someone up with a heavy scream.

In the years JJ had known you, he’d never considered you to be weak or broken. You’d always been an example of strength in his eyes, someone who could persevere even the toughest of challenges. He knew it took a little bit of support now and then, but you were healing, and he was so, so proud of you. You’d shared such vulnerable moments with him, and though he wished he could take the pain away, he knew it was a process. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to share about his dad with you, so he understood the hesitancy you had when it came to unpacking what occurred while John B was gone.

Usually, when you caught sight of Rafe, you shut down completely. JJ didn’t pry to ask what all happened when you were stuck with him, trusting that in time you would open up and share when you were comfortable. He was grateful that you felt comfortable enough with them around to sleep even though the person who’d taken so much from you was so close by.

“Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”

Kiara’s excitement woke you up from the warmth of the sand, your eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the sunlight. You shifted to see where she was pointing, noticing the little movements of sand and the dark figures poking out. Pushing yourself to your feet, your friends scurried around to make a path in hopes of guiding the baby turtles safely toward the water.

You quickly tossed John B your towel to drag out the terrain evenly before taking a closer look at the small creatures, wishing you could pick one up but knowing better. “They’re so cute, what the fuck!”

“Make a turtle highway,” Sarah laughed beside you, the two of soaking up the once-in-a-lifetime event as Kie continued to build a path with the boys. Pulling out your phone, you snapped a few photos of the event, including one of Sarah pointing at the little turtles as they cruised by.

The sound of a revving engine pulled your attention away and toward where Topper’s supped-up Jeep was approaching. You frowned at the sight, not sure what his intentions were before you noticed Topper wasn’t even driving, Ruthie was.

“Hey!” Kiara stood up and waved her hands in the air, “Stop! There’s a hatch!”

“Topper, stop!” You yelled next, trying to point around the current path of the turtles who were moving as fast as their little bodies could take them. “Move!”

There was barely enough time for JJ and Kiara to throw themselves out of the way of the oncoming Jeep, thankfully missing the turtles and the near-death of the duo. You could hear Ruthie’s obnoxious laugh behind you as you faced the Kook group who apparently, found attempted murder funny.

“Hey!” You were shouting before you had a chance to think it through, feet stomping through the sand to carry you closer to where Kelce and his friends found it hysterical. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

Kelce continued to laugh as Topper’s Jeep revved once more, coming to a stop next to you. “Maybe next time don’t drop in on our surf,” Kelce’s voice dropped deeper as he approached you, gaze darkening when he was eye to eye with you.

“Fuck you, Kelce. Whatever ego you all have that you think entitles you to run over baby turtles is sick,” You spat, pushing against his chest causing his friends to ‘ooh’ at your action. Not only did they almost ruin the hatch, but Kie and JJ were inches from getting run over because of their stupidity.

“Turtles?” A voice next to you stopped you from spitting another nasty curse at the group now that Topper and Ruthie had rejoined. You looked over to see the brunette girl looking back at you, her gaze familiar before you caught Rafe watching over her shoulder. “There were turtles?”

The heartbreak in her voice surprised you. You figured anyone following Rafe around would have the same cruel attitude he did, but the empathy you weren’t expecting.

“Go back to The Cut,” Ruthie interrupted whatever explanation you were considering giving.

You turned to glare at her, closing the distance between the two of you as you poked at her chest. “You have five seconds before JJ gets over here and loses his shit on all of you, so, I’d watch your words, Ruthie, before they bite you in the ass. You’re a pathetic excuse for a human, and I hope you’re fucking ashamed of your actions.”

The group clearly hadn’t expected you, of all people, to come mouth off about their actions. Silence filled the group, the girl in front of you at a loss of words that someone actually dared put her in her place.

“Look, we didn’t mean to-“

“Shut the fuck up, Topper!” You snapped at him, sick of his attempts to appear innocent despite all the damage he caused. “What happened to just here to surf, huh? Or is attempted murder always in the back of your mind?”

“Hey watch it-“

“Fucking leave, Pogue!”

“Get the hell out of here!”

“Hey, hey! Enough!” It was Rafe who put himself between you and Ruthie’s incoming hands. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified and took a step back, feet stumbling as you did so. You stared at him, horrified as his gaze met yours and stole all the air from your lungs.

“Bitch can barely look him in the eye,” Ruthie laughed behind Rafe, but you made no move to correct her, terrified that even a breath in the wrong way would end your life. Rafe Cameron, of all people, to be the one to stop someone from harming you was a sick joke.

“Rafe?” The brunette girl next to him grabbed his arm, her eyes taking in your terrified expression. It was then that you recognized her. Sofia, the girl who you’d unfortunately come to know too well in the therapy sessions John B had forced you to attempt. The two of you had shared so much with each other but never once had you run into her since you stopped going months ago. She seemed to process who you were then too, a silent conversation running through her head as she mouthed your name.

At that moment, someone ran up behind you, hands landing on your hips before you were moved into another set of arms. You caught sight of JJ stepping closer to Rafe, likely starting an argument that you could only hope didn’t end with a fight.

“You’re okay, I’ve got ya.” John B turned you around to redirect your gaze, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as he started walking back toward the Twinkie. Everything turned to a haze, the adrenaline wearing off enough that you were heading into the inevitable anxiety attack.

“If you come near her, or any one of us, ever again, I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ’s threat wasn’t a light one, and you were certain it would come back to bite him in the ass considering the Kooks would take it and run with it.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your ears as John B pushed you into the passenger seat of the Twinkie, his hands grabbing both of your cheeks as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breath. Sarah’s grip on your hand was light as she climbed in the driver’s seat to sit on your other side.

“What the hell was that?” Kiara’s shout echoed through the van, ringing in your ears and causing you to squeeze your eyes closed even harder. “What did you say to them?”

“Kie, shut up!” Sarah was yelling back at her, their voices blending together as you tucked your knees to your chest and curled into a ball. The shakiness was setting in and all you could do was beg your body to calm down and catch up to your actions.

You forced your eyes to open, blinking as you managed to catch Sofia’s gaze across the sand. How you didn’t put the pieces together that’s who she was, you weren’t sure, but a pit grew in your stomach when you realized you’d spilled so much in those sessions that she was present for. Most, if not all of it, about Rafe.

Air choked in your lungs, and aggressive coughs followed before JJ’s hand was against your chest to keep you upright. His fingers were gently against your jawline as he kept your head up in an attempt to help you breathe correctly.

“You’re alright, baby. Just keep breathing, yeah?”

John B had left your vision, same with Sarah, leaving you face to face with your boyfriend. He climbed over you to sit in the seat Sarah had once occupied and pulled your legs out to rest over his. The desire to curl up and cramp your muscles happened more than often and he’d picked up on that after a few anxiety attacks, recognizing your patterns and habits.

JJ forced his hands in yours, keeping your fingers from stabbing your palms as you fought to take deep breaths, your body still on high alert even though your mind was coming back down.

“There you go, good girl,” His encouragement made you smile slightly, knowing he was messing with you on purpose. Moving forward, you puddled into his lap without a word, and he welcomed you with open arms. Physical contact helped more in the recent moments, something you never expected considering you used to be so fearful of someone’s touch.

JJ shuffled with you in his grasp, tugging the door closed to prevent unwelcome eyes from seeing you in such a vulnerable moment. John B was climbing in the driver seat shortly after, Sarah joining in the back before all doors were closed. Your breathing was slowing, muscles finding the forgiveness to loosen up on you but refused to move from JJ’s lap until your head was back in one piece.

“Kie?” You mumbled into his shoulder. The girl was clearly upset with you, but you didn’t have the capacity to question why.

“Walking,” John B replied simply as he started the old van. “Needs to clear her fuckin’ head.”

Sarah shushed him and you could hear her hand connect with his body gently, a grumbled protest coming from your brother in response. A comfortable silence filled the vehicle as John B drove away from the beach and started his course back home.

Exhaustion had set in on the drive, your body heavy in JJ’s hold as you listened to the occupants other than yourself share small chatter. Words weren’t enough to describe how grateful you were to your friends and brother for always supporting you no matter what. You knew it was a handful, hell, it wasn’t easy yourself, but the fact that they showed up time and time again said everything.

“Sorry about everything,” You apologized as John B parked the van in front of the house, ending your adventure for the day. “I’m trying to fix it and it just-”

“Hey,” Sarah interrupted your explanation as she popped her head over the seat. “No apologies. We’ve talked about that. Don’t apologize, ever.”

She left no room for argument and opened the back door to slide out. You looked at JJ and John B, both boys shrugged in agreement with her, making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe we could rethink therapy?” John B suggested as he watched you rub your face to rid yourself of tear marks. You shook your head, giving no verbal answer.

Therapy had been shit for you. When you first came back from El Dorado, the hospital had taken one look at you, post-gunshot stitches, and deemed you unsound. You went with it for a while, going to the group sessions and spilling stories without any names. Then you realized how cruel people were when they started comparing trauma and you never went back again.

JJ’s grip loosened so you could climb out of the van, arm slinging over your shoulder to keep you close as he followed you. Sarah joined your side, pulling your hand in hers to swing back and forth as the four of you started heading toward the house where Pope had come out the side door.

“Yo!” JJ called in greeting. “What’d you find?”

Silence followed the question, shifting your attention to Pope instead of the ground. The shock on his face was evident and your gaze immediately dropped to the dark red smears on his shirt and hands.

“Oh, shit.” Sarah was turning you into her instantly, both JJ and John B getting closer to Pope with an onslaught of questions. You kept your eyes on her, squeezing her hand tightly in attempt to keep your mind from getting involved.

“What happened?”

“Where’s Cleo?”

“She’s inside.” It was the only answer Pope had to give, and it sent JJ inside scrambling for the girl in question, fearing what he would find. John B grabbed ahold of Pope, steering him back to the house without any further questions before Sarah started to guide you along with the fresh blood out of view.

Sarah looked at you expectantly as you made your way through the door into whatever chaos you’d subjected yourself to. The girl next to you stopped short and shifted your path into the kitchen, rerouting you from whatever she’d caught sight of before you could. JJ was already in there, pushing a water into your hand and lifting you onto the kitchen counter without another word.

To your relief, Cleo moved in shortly after, her expression stoic and unreadable before Sarah left your side and you could barely hear Kiara’s voice joining whatever conversation was happening a room over.

JJ placed his hands on each side of your body before kissing you softly, pulling your mind to him and only him. You hummed quietly, fingers tangling in his hair for a moment before he shifted away.

“Can you tell me?” You asked quietly, not wanted to push too far if Cleo was clearly so upset.

He glanced at the girl behind you before answering, “Terrance’s body is in the other room.”

JJ watched you as you processed the information, a million questions running through your mind that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Apparently, there was no time to, as JJ’s eyes caught on to something out the window behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the all too familiar Kildare County Sheriff’s Office truck, and your heart sank to your ass.

“J-“

“Upstairs,” He replied with no room for disagreement. “Our room or balcony, kay? I’ll send Sarah.”

You nodded, doing what he said without another question and bolted up the stairs with your heart pounding in your chest. Sarah’s footsteps were behind you moments later, the two of you finding sanctuary on the balcony outside your shared room with JJ.

The sun was beginning to set and cast an orange lighting over the two of you as you piled into the hammock. Sarah leaned her head against yours just as another figure joined your group. Cleo fell on top of the two of you with a huff, both you and Sarah wrapping her up tightly into your cuddle puddle.

And suddenly, all you could hear, was silence.

How the fuck did the cards fall this way every single time?

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bonnie-the-butcher · 4 days ago

Text

Rip Tide | Chapter III

[ MDNI ] [ word count: 6.810 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; Mentions of overdose; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.

I refuse to let the fanfics in this app gaslight me into forgetting just how pathetic Rafe was in the show. Like just because a man is dangerous and unhinged doesn't mean that he isn't some needy little dumbass that begs 24/7. Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance for reading <3

Rafe tries to cover up a painful groan, mumbling something unintelligible as you carry him up the stairs. He’s draped entirely over you, half his weight weighing you down as you tiptoe over the steep steps, hoping that your slow pace comes off as caution rather than as struggle.

You are struggling, though.

Struggling to figure out why you got yourself into this mess in the first place.

It's way past ten. The night outside is as dark as anything, the wind howling wildly against the heavy windows of Rafe’s house. But you’re not at home, with a belly full of nothing, sleeping to try and distract from the hunger as your brother’s friends play around outside, their laughter lulling you. You’re carrying a stranger up the stairs of his house, praying that his parents don’t catch you.

Rafe’s arm is tightly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing your side to his chest. His other arm, once resting carelessly over the handrail, is now crossed over your body, resting in the dip of your waist.

He fists the fabric of your top as he tumbles, a gasp catching in his throat the second you grab him, pulling him upright before he can fall onto the stairs.

A drunken giggle falls from his lips. – Oops. – He’s grinning. You can feel him looking at you, but your eyes drift down the railing, peeking at the distant ground beneath.

It’s a wonder to you that no one has died falling down these stairs.

You press his arm tighter around your shoulder.

Reaching the solid ground of the second floor almost feels like a conquest, but you look forward only to be met with a multitude of doors, all of them painted white, with nothing to tell you who each room belonged to. – Which one is your room, Rafe? Where do you sleep? – He groans, looking around in confusion, as if he didn’t recognize his own home, then he stops and looks at you for a moment, giggling. – Rafe. – You adjust his weight, your back aches from dragging him around everywhere. He must be as exhausted as you are. – I’m serious. Aren’t you tired? Don’t you wanna go to bed?

He seems amused by the question.

– You wanna– You— He laughs loud enough that you have to shush him, but he’s still chuckling with his mouth against your lips. – Sorry. You… You wanna go to bed with me? That was quick.

– Oh, I bet it was.

His smile twists into a frown, brows knitting together. – What’s that– Hey, watch out! Careful.— What’s that supposed to mean? – You’re the one laughing now, but you reach for the first door, and Rafe stops you. – That’s, uhm, that’s Sarah’s room.

– Oh.

– I don’t wanna see Sarah. I don’t. – His voice is heavier than it was before, and you can see his eyes struggling to keep open even as he tries to rub the exhaustion away.

– It’s okay. We’re not gonna see Sarah right now. We’re gonna put you to bed. Your bed, preferably.

Rafe’s laughter has fully died down now. You keep wandering down the hall, opening doors and finding guest rooms, and bathrooms and offices, already resigned to the fact that you aren’t getting any help from him.

– Are you gonna sleep with me? – He asks suddenly, looking at you as if it was a serious matter.

– No, Rafe. You’re the one who’s gonna be sleeping. – You sneak a glance at your watch. 10:46. John’s probably freaking out. You reach for another door, this one closer to the end of the hallway, right beside the double doors you assume belong to his father. – What about this one?

– That’s Wheezie. Wheezie’s room. Why— Why won’t you sleep with me? – He’s ridiculous. You laugh before you can help yourself. There’s a childishness to the way he asks such an absurd question, his voice is so small, his eyes are so big, his lips remain open even after he stops talking. Like a kid asking his babysitter if she can stay for christmas. You don’t answer, still laughing to yourself, because you don’t know what to say.

– What about this one?

– What’s so funny? – He’s not smiling anymore.

– Nothing. Nothing’s funny, Rafe. You have to sleep. Is this your room?

– Guest room.

– Jesus Christ. Which one is yours?

– Are you gonna sleep with me? – He’s trying to stand in front of you and look you in the eye, but he can’t even stand on his own feet, you have to steady him.

It’s better to let drunk people think they’re in control than to anger them by denying. You’ve learned your lesson way back when. So you just tilt your head and bat your eyes at Rafe, trying not to smile too condescendingly. – Is that what you want me to do? – He nods, inching closer, his hands reaching for you. – Sure, then. I will. Where’s your room?

– Kiss me.

– Where’s your room, Rafe?

– Kiss me first. – You roll your eyes at him, though he’s already draped over you again, his eyes, still blown out despite the charcoal purge, staring at your lips. In the darkness that surrounds you, you only see the outline of his expressions: his crooked smile, his parted lips, the gleam that catches his eyes, reflecting something foreign, that you can’t quite read, as he leans into you expectantly. Your lips catch the corner of his mouth, his breath hitches, and he turns to try and deepen that little peck, like a starved man savoring the crumbs before getting to the main dish.

There’s a pleasure that comes from crushing his expectations, though you know it isn't healthy to feel like that. You remain there, your lips against his, for only a split second before you pull away.

You try to move towards the next door, but he’s quicker than you are.

Before you can take another step, Rafe hooks an arm around your waist and yanks you backward. The motion is sudden, but it isn’t ffortless, your back pressing against his chest just as his own crashes into the wall behind him.

You dodge his lips before he can kiss you, and his mouth remains there, against your cheek, brushing upwards to rest against your temples when you exclaim in a hush: – Are you trying to wake the entire house?!

– It wouldn’t have made any noise if you’d kissed me, like you promised. – He bemoans in a whisper.

– I did. – You want to laugh, but you keep your face still, though you smile despite yourself.

Rafe scoffs, still holding you against him. – Y’know, Barry was right. You are a tease.

Just like that, your playful mood vanishes.

You stare at him for a couple seconds, unsure of what he meant by that.

You try to tell yourself that Barry would never say something like that about you, especially while you’re not around, but a little part of you crawls with doubt.

You’re frozen at that moment. He’s watching you, waiting, head tilted, blue eyes gleaming. You want to ask, but you’re not sure you’ll like the answer.

You exhale through your nose and push forward, trying to shake off the feeling like water from your skin. – You’re really high, huh? – You take a step back, but he moves with you, much steadier than someone as inebriated as he is should be.

– Look at me. – He whispers, his voice is soft, but you know he isn’t asking.

Rafe leans in a little too close as you step back, his breath warm on your cheek, his hand now hovering over your waist. His fingers twitch, as if he’s fighting an urge, trying to figure out what part of you to dig in first.

– Look at me. – He whispers again, the command almost too soft to be one. His eyes never leave you, he drinks you in, you can feel his gaze going through every inch of you, his hands struggling to keep in place.

You pull away, eyes darting to the door behind you.

– Rafe. – It’s not a warning, you don’t know what it is. But Rafe doesn’t even seem to hear it. There’s something more in the way he watches you now, a flicker of something far too intense.

– Look at me. – He repeats. It sounds like a plea, the way he barely murmurs it, his body swaying, almost as if magnetized to you. His hand, once hovering, brushes the inside of your arm as he reaches for your waist, then starts climbing upwards. – You promised. – he whispers, lips curling slightly as he presses into you, his touch lingering in places you didn’t think it would go.

It’s as if he's testing the boundaries, seeing how much you’ll let him get away with. How much you will allow.

Your heart skips a beat, almost frozen within you.

You try and focus on the task at hand. You shift your weight slightly, ready to play the part— to let it slide for just long enough to get him into bed, to make sure he’s safe.

To make sure you're safe.

– Where’s your room, Rafe? – You push the question out like it’s any other, because you refuse to let yet another person play with you like that.

You didn’t learn from the mistakes of the other girls JJ tossed aside. So you had to learn from your own mistakes.

Rafe wants you to give him something, something deeper than compliance or defiance, something he can bite into.

You won't.

You're not a doll, hanging on the wall, he can just grab at and play with until he tires himself out. You're not a toy.

You cared about JJ. You don't care about Rafe. You tell yourself that again as you look up at him, waiting.

He doesn’t answer immediately. He just steps closer, his eyes darting to your lips, to the space between you that’s suddenly more charged than it should be. – You’re eager, huh? D’you want me?

His lips glisten as he whispers the question. You can’t tell where he’s looking at anymore. Rafe’s eyes drift everywhere your skin shows, and though his hand still lingers, pressed against your ribcage, just beside your chest, where the top covers you, he seems to delight in the naked warmth of your inner arm, brushing against the back of his hand.

– I want you to go to bed.

– So you can tuck me in? – His thumb draws patterns beneath your chest, gaze shifting between your lips and your neck, almost in reverence.

– I can do that.

– Only if you kiss me first.

His words hang in the air between you.

You know he won't give this up.

He'll be calmer if you give him what he wants. Maybe this will help you, but you have to play your cards right. So you tilt your head, and you smile.

There's something different in the way he looks at you now. All of that edge melting into desperation as he watches you, expectant, frozen in place.

Your hand lifts, slow and deliberate, brushing against the side of his neck. The tips of your fingers trace his jawline as he lets it hang open, breathing heavily, eyes lidded, waiting for your move. Your touch is featherlight, barely there, but Rafe chases it. It’s the only thing he does, he leans in, he breathes deep, brows furrowing. His breath stutters when you touch him, fully, your palm splayed against his skin. His throat bobs, his eyes flutter, but he's finally still.

Waiting.

Hoping. Like he’s letting you do this, instead of cajoling you into it.

You pull him by the neck, slowly, afraid he still isn't steady enough to weather any harshness, and he barely watches, his eyes already closed, opening ever so slightly when your mouth touches his.

A quiet, shuddering sigh spills from him before he can stop it. His fingers dig into you, into your sides, pulling you closer, his body pressing into yours like he needs this, like he needs you.

His lips part again, eager, desperate— But he doesn’t devour, he only melts.

His breath is warm, uneven, fanning over your skin with every shaky exhale. You can feel the goosebumps rising along his arm as you let your hand trail there, climbing farther up his bicep until you get to his shoulder, and let it travel to his neck. Rafe sighs again, crumbling in place, his hands gripping you like he's trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers.

Then there's the sound— the softest, neediest noise from the back of his throat as your lips move against his. He's drinking you in, savoring every second, hands slipping lower, mapping the curve of your waist. His fingers press into the fabric of your top, clinging, grabbing, until he finds a single slit of exposed skin on the small of your back, and sinks his hands under the top like he wants to pull you inside out, like he needs more, like he'll never get enough.

You feel the conflict rippling beneath his skin— he's holding back even as his fingers dig into you, even as his lips chase yours as if he needs you in order to breathe. He sways slightly against you, melting into you, his body betraying just how much he wants this.

He makes another sound, this one closer to a moan, his lips parting further, his nose brushing yours as he leans in, chasing the warmth of your kiss as if he’s afraid you’ll take it away.

And then, you do. Just as quickly as you give, you take it back.

Your fingers tighten around his neck, taking a quiet gasp from his lips as you pull away. And Rafe remains there, unwilling to let go, his lips still parted, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. His eyes— dazed, glassy— flicker between your face and your mouth, trying to chase your lips back against his, hungry for more.

You don't give him the time to try again.

There are only two doors left. The double doors, and a single one, the one he’s pressing you against. You reach for the handle and turn it. Rafe stumbles into you, and you catch him, laughing again, though a little quieter. – C’mon, let’s get you to bed.

He nearly whines as you close the door behind him, but smiles stupidly when you press him to the door again.

His hand finds your waist, drifting upwards against your back, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. He’s still breathing heavily when he pulls you in, but you turn before he can dive into you, and his lips end up pressed on your jaw.

He lets you look around, but keeps you in place, hitting the light switch.

His room is wide, but it's cluttered. The walls, the floor, the furniture, the curtains—everything is bright white, like an asylum. It’s the kind of space that should feel sterile, untouched. But it isn’t.

Clothes are draped over chairs, magazines are thrown haphazardly on the desk, and the only pop of color that looks intentional—an unevenly sprawled blue duvet that hangs off the mattress—looks like it was barely considered, a half-hearted attempt at warmth in a place that rejects it, completely.

The mess isn’t overwhelming, but against all that blankness, every stray item sticks out like a bruise.

You feel Rafe’s hands on your face, his fingers stroking lightly against your cheek. – Like what you see? – He mumbles, looking dazed. – Feels like home, doesn’t it? – You think it's sarcasm at first, but with the way his eyes bore into you, you’re not sure you can laugh.

He’s still looking at you expectantly, as if trying to hypnotize you, but you take his hands, and you pull him in. – C’mon, Rafe, let’s lay you down.

He hums, fingers squeezing yours softly:

– I’m kinda sad, y’know? – He’s almost docile in the way he lets you lead him, eyes clinging to your every move, doing his best to be compliant.

You try to reward him with simple touches. Your hands bracket his shoulders, then drift down to his hands, and back up, leaving goosebumps behind whenever skin touches skin.

Rafe stands there for a moment, back facing his bed as you throw the duvet on the bed and adjust it. He only finally sits down when you put your hand on his shoulder again.

– You really wanted to go to that party, huh?

– Nah. I really wanted you to keep that top off. – He giggles, a feather-light touch as his right hand traces the hem of your shirt, a vice grip as his left cups your hip. – You have a tattoo. I like tattoos. – His right hand drifts upwards, to your collarbone, he reaches to push the sleeve off so he can see better. But you grab his hand again, and he keeps it there.

– Thanks. – Your voice is low, but not a whisper.

Rafe’s grin is sharp, his hand is clammy. And though he still hums when you draw patterns on the back of his hand, he stares at the ink on your chest with a shade of vitriol darkening his eyes.

– You know who has a tattoo exactly like yours?

Of course you do.

You freeze, movements stopping, and he turns his hand in yours to pull you closer, setting it in the dip of his neck. – Who?

– Your little buddy, JJ.

You try to keep your face smooth as you look at Rafe. – We got the tattoo together.

He nods, still smiling, but there’s something else there. – How’d that happen, huh?

That's too long a story to tell to a drunk man.

– Can you lay on your side for me? – He looks at you blankly for a moment, but does, and stays quietly, watching you kneel on the bed, next to him, and pull a pillow from the snowdrift of blankets and cushions sprawled around his bed. Rafe shifts a little forward, his chest pressing against your legs, allowing you to tuck the pillow under him. – Here you go. Is that good?

– It’s nice. Feels nice. – You note the way his eyes droop slightly, almost like he enjoys having you fuss over him. You make a move to step back onto the floor, but his arm loops behind your knees, his hand on the side of your thigh, keeping you in place. – I don’t know what it says, though.

– What?

– Your tattoo.

You swallow. – Of course you do. You saw it.

– Not really.

His hand reaches for your collarbone again.

– Rafe.

– Just let me see it. – He almost pleads, the smile on his face is so cajoling, so sweet. You move his hand, but it remains flush with your skin as you pull the fabric down just enough. – Viam–

– “Inveniam Viam.”

– What is it? – He whispers, fingers brushing the letters softly, insistently, as if they were braille, something he could only grasp by touching.

– The name of his dad's old boat. It just happened to be a motto I really liked. – His hands are warm, too warm, and the way he moves them, just shy of scrubbing, like he’s trying to wipe the words from your skin. – Its shorthand for a Latin saying: “Aut Inveniam Viam aut faciam”. It means “either find a way, or make one.”

Rafe’s eyes go round for a second, and he whispers the translation under his breath as he stares at the tattoo, savoring the words in his mouth.

– It's very… – He stares at the ink for a moment, as if searching for the right word. – proactive. – His eyes bore into yours. His hands are suddenly lighter, suddenly calmer. They don't press as deeply into your flesh. It's like you’re watching someone who's possessed: Rafe flitters back and forth between a nice guy and a manic creature. – It's not very JJ, though. He’s not that kind of guy.

You want to tell him that the motto is JJ to a T. That he’s the guy that does whatever it takes to get at what he wants, but just as the thought strikes, it becomes clear that it’s exactly right: JJ couldn’t find a way to Kie, so he made one, through you.

Whatever it takes.

Even if it takes using someone like a prop to throw around, and then tossing them.

– If you say so, Rafe.

– I do. – Hes’s staring again. – JJ’s a coward. He can’t stick to anything. He's not proactive. He just goes around throwing shit at a wall and hoping it sticks.

You don't say anything.

You don't know what to say.

A week ago, you would’ve thought Rafe was wrong. That he was just talking shit because he hated JJ, and he couldn't comprehend the person beneath the persona. Now you wonder if there truly is a ‘person’ —Something deeper than the antics JJ uses to woo people into thinking he's cool— That maybe that ‘persona’ actually is JJ, and you're the idiot trying to see something softer, sweeter, where there is not.

– You're staying, right? – The question startles you out of that thought. Rafe’s looking at you now, half his face squished against the pillow, and his fingers pull your sleeve back over the tattoo, as if he’s shutting the door on that conversation.

Your mind takes a while to process it.

– What?

– You’re staying. – A statement, not a question. You look at him for a moment, your brain flipping through all the possible responses he could have to a “no” before you can say anything. – You can’t go now. It’s late.

– Lay back, Rafe. – He nods, obedient, but his eyes betray a twinge of mistrust as they fall closed, then slit open, and close again. You look back at the bathroom door, ajar on the corner. – Do you need more water?

– I’m fine. D’you need clothes?

– Clothes?

– To sleep in. I can land you a shirt, if you want. – His hand brushes the fabric of your top, fingers tracing the collar, edging against your skin. – It gets really cold in here in the middle of the night. Of course, if you like to sleep naked, then I won’t stop you either.

You scoff: – And here I was, thinking there were no gentlemen left in this world.

– I aim to please. – He chuckles. His arm is still wrapped around the back of your knees, and he looks up at you, almost hopefully, an absent-minded smile on his face.

– I can’t stay, Rafe. – It would’ve almost pained you to say it, if it weren’t for his previous comment.

– Yeah, right.

– I’m serious. My brother’s probably crashing out as we speak. If I don’t leave now, I’ll probably only get there after midnight and God knows how long his little lecture’s gonna take.

– That sucks, y'know? I really wish there was a way that you could sleep right now and avoid a lecture from the jobless hobo that lives in your house. – He gasps dramatically, ignoring your clear lack of amusement. – Wait a minute! I know what.

– Hilarious. – You step back onto solid ground, but he holds onto you.

– You said you’d sleep with me. You promised.

You didn’t, though. But you were sure he wouldn’t appreciate that fact.

– Well, Rafe, sometimes I lie. – You chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in your words, yet Rafe remains completely serious.

– You can stay. You’re already here. What else are you gonna do? Walk home? Alone there, at night, in the cold?

– It’s not cold, though.

– Yeah? And what if it starts raining? You’ll get— You’re gonna get sick. Then you’ll miss work, and you’ll lose your job. And then — then — Your jobless brother’s gonna have to figure out how not to starve all on his own.

You raise a brow, stewing in the intent behind his words for a second. – You’re not manipulative at all, are you?

– I'm Persuasive. – He corrects. – Because— Because I’m a proactive kind of guy, alright? And you know I'm right.

To your own chagrin, you do.

He is right.

It would be easy—so easy—to just lay back into the mattress beside him. To just fall asleep and put all your problems —John. Barry. JJ and Kie— on hold until you're in the mood to deal with them tomorrow. And maybe you like the way Rafe’s looking at you, like he needs you there.

But that’s exactly why you can’t stay.

Because everyone you know is already taking the easy way out, and so far, you've been the one that had to deal with the catastrophes that came from that. It was clear enough that none of them could deal with it on their own. So who was gonna help you clean up the mess if you chose the easy option and it eventually blew up in your face?

Not John.

Obviously not Barry.

JJ even less.

You have to do the right thing. Not because it's right, but because you don’t have another option.

– You are right. – You say, and he seems satisfied. This time he lets you step back onto the floor. He lets you step away. – But John’s still gonna be pissed in the morning, might as well get it out of the way now. – This time, you look straight at him. – I'm just…a proactive type of girl, y'know?

He isn't amused at your joke. More than anything, he seems frustrated. – Sleep tight, Rafe. Try not to toss and turn too much.

You open and close the door before he can say anything else, hitting the light switch on your way out.

It's 11:36. You step down the hall with light steps, and down the stairs with firm ones. The Cameron house is beautiful, you’ve always thought so, but like that, empty, in the dark, it looks like a husk. The shed of something that outgrew it, something that had nearly been suffocated within its walls.

You breathe much lighter when you step out through the back door, despite knowing you still have an hour long walk ahead.

There’s a feeling of surveillance in these suburbs, something Orwellian, dystopic. You cross the street, walking past perfectly manicured lawns and white picket-fences with the sense that someone’s watching you. Lurking somewhere.

Rafe’s light, the only light that remained on as you walked away, fades slowly in the distance with every step you take. The transition between the good and bad part of the island gets less subtle with every passing year: Vibrant green lawns become smooth, empty roads; those become overly curated golf fields, that become bumpy, broken roads, that finally become dirt paths and empty lots as you finally reach the Cut.

You try to glimpse at your watch in the all-consuming darkness. 00:04. You get startled by the nervous barking of a neighborhood dog every so often, but the farther you go into the marshes, the less you hear.

It’s 00:21 when the warm lights of your home finally peek through the thick leaves and endless trails around the riverbank, but there’s no comfort that comes with that realization.

The walk up to the porch seems to stretch for longer than the entirety of your walk before it, and you realize you’re dragging your feet. For a moment you ponder the possibility of going in through the back, just to avoid your brother. But it seems stupid. Childish.

For almost eighteen years you came and went through the front door. No one ever asked you where you went, who you were with, what were you doing. Nobody ever cared about what you did or didn’t do. Not your father, and damn sure not John.

You shouldn’t have to sneak into your own home just because he finally started caring.

And you shouldn’t be afraid to face him.

But you are.

The bitter smoke of marijuana still lingers about the ashtrays up front, ignited by a single recent spark that you can see bright as day when you stand before the door. John had probably just walked in, his impatience finally getting the best of him.

You click your tongue, and rub your temples, bracing for the impact to come.

A ceiling fan buzzes lazily in the distance, the creek of its rusty rusty metal blades cutting in every so often, like a pained squeak.

You realize that the deep breath you just took did nothing to help your nerves as you step into the living room to see it almost completely bathed in darkness. The kitchen light is on, but the warmth that bleeds in through the open door does nothing to ease the atmosphere.You feel like the first kill in an 80s horror movie, one foot after the other, the floorboards creaking under your shoes, the phone that buzzes on the dirty dinner table.

You reach for it. It’s not broken, no more than it already was. So at least you have that.

The screen lights up with a notification that vanishes before you can register it.

– So. How was it?

You have to breathe in so you don’t jump at the sudden question.

John stares at you from the couch, his jaw tight, his foot bouncing in a steady rhythm against the floor. JJ sits beside him, shoulders tense, hands clasped between his knees. He’s not looking at you.

You stop exactly where you were, heartbeat hammering in your ears.

The silence is thick, stretching between the three of you like a live wire.

– How was the night? Good? It's a little early to be coming home from a figure eight party. – His voice is steady, cold. But it isn’t calm. He’s staring through you, like he doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of him, like he’s never seen you in his life. – Maybe it wasn’t so good, after all.

You don’t wanna give into him. You know damn well that won’t make it any easier.

– This James Bond routine isn’t really your style, John. Don’t you wanna come right out with the accusations? Save us all some time.

He laughs, but the sound is bitter. Contained. More a scoff than anything.

You try to keep your composure, waiting for his words.

All you hear is JJ exhaling sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. John, though, doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His foot just keeps bouncing, a barely restrained coil of anger.

– Who were you with? – he asks, voice low.

– I was with Barry.

– Bullshit! – John stands abruptly, and JJ stiffens beside him. The room is too small, too suffocating. – Barry just left. He was looking for you. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. So what? What’d you do?! Did you leave your best friend to go home with Rafe Cameron?! Is that where you were?

– I didn’t leave Barry. Barry left me with Rafe. I didn’t even go to that party.

– No?! – He laughs again, the sound reminiscent of a rattlesnake. You feel like he might pounce on you at any given moment. – So what? WHAT? You just stayed there? To do what? Fuck him?!

– Jesus Christ! – You exclaim. Your head is pounding. – I’m not the one whose fucking my way up the social ladder, John. You are! Don’t go around throwing stones from your little porcelain house, this shit isn’t cute anymore.

– Yeah! Because you hooking up with Rafe Cameron is just completely normal, right?! Is that why you’ve been acting so weird, huh?! Your drug dealer boyfriend wasn’t enough so you had to go and get yourself a psychopath too?!

– What the fuck is wrong with you?! Barry’s not my fucking boyfriend, John! We’re friends! It’s not my fault you’ve never managed to make friends with a girl you didn’t want to sleep with!

– FUCK YOU!

– No, fuck you! I didn’t sleep with Rafe Cameron, okay?! He was high! He was wasted! All I did was drive him home.

– Yeah right.

– That’s the fucking truth, okay?! If you don’t believe me, I don’t care! But don’t start accusing me of shit I haven’t done!

– I told you not to go!

You shift your weight. – And I told you this shit wasn’t your decision.

– That’s not the point! I tell you that Barry’s bad news, and what do you do?! You go out with him! I tell you that Rafe Cameron is a creep, and you go out of your way to be alone with him! And then you go to a party where I can’t even reach you–

– I DIDN’T GO TO THE PARTY! And you couldn’t reach me because YOU took my phone!

– That’s not the point!

You’re the one laughing now. – Oh, sure! What is the point then?! Please! Enlighten me!

– The point is that you’re doing this shit to piss me off!

– You are UNBELIEVABLE, John! Actually un-fucking-believable!

John lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. – Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with you?

You clench your jaw. – Nothing is wrong with me! I just don’t need you making choices for me! You never did before!

– Are you kidding me?! – He gestures wildly. – You were the one who left with Barry and Rafe Cameron. How am I supposed to trust you when these are the choices you make?! Do you even hear yourself?

– They’re not as bad as you make them out to be.

John looks at you like he doesn’t even recognize you. – You can’t be serious.

JJ shifts beside him, eyes flickering between you both, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He still hasn’t said a word.

– You don’t get to tell me who I can be around, John. – you say, trying, but failing, to keep your voice even. – You don’t own me.

His face twists. – It’s not about that!

– Clearly it fucking is!

– It’s NOT! It’s about the fact that you don’t fucking listen, – He snaps. – I told you not to go, and you did anyway. Like it was nothing. Like my opinion—like my concern—doesn’t mean shit to you.

That stings.

Your voice softens, just slightly. – That’s not fair.

John exhales sharply, shaking his head again. – No. What’s not fair is me having to sit here, wondering if I’m gonna have to drag your ass out of some mess Barry and Rafe got you into.

– Oh! You’re gonna drag me out of a mess?! YOU ARE? I’m not the one who’s getting detained every other day, okay! I’m not the one who has to be bailed out of stupid, or worse, illegal, situations, John! That’s you! That’s all you! My friends aren’t getting me arrested!

– You don’t have any friends.

The words hang in the air, heavy and final.

You inhale slowly.

John’s watching you, waiting for you to say something—anything—that’ll make this argument last another hour. Something he can use to make you the guilty party whenever he needs you to bail him out of stupid situations again.

But you don’t.

And you won’t.

The silence stretches.

JJ shifts again. His knee bounces.

John clenches his jaw, looking away. – Whatever.

That’s all he says before he turns and disappears down the hall, his bedroom door slamming shut behind him.

JJ exhales, rubbing his face with both hands. He still doesn’t look at you.

You stare at the empty hallway. At the door that won’t open again tonight.

And you wonder why it still feels like you lost.

– You shouldn’t have done that. – JJ’s voice is barely above a whisper. He finally raises his head to look at you, his expression worried, almost saddened. Like half of this isn’t his own fault.

– I’ll take a lecture on things I shouldn’t do from a lot of people, JJ. I’ll even take a page out of my brother’s book. But I don’t wanna hear shit from you.

His blue eyes are narrow as he sits there, brows furrowed, hands clasped. He looks like a beggar. The analogy isn’t very far from the truth. All JJ ever does is take. He begs and he whines and he takes, and no matter how much you offer it’s never enough.

Because he doesn’t want your help.

He doesn’t want your time.

He doesn’t want your attention, or your affection, or whatever it is that you give to him for free.

He wants the validation of knowing he doesn’t have to do anything to get you to give him whatever he wants.

JJ exhales sharply, rubbing his face with both hands. You can feel the tension in the room shift slightly.

You’re tired.

Tired of him.

Tired of John.

Tired of this conversation.

You turn on your heel, but before you can make it to your door, JJ grabs you by the wrist, his fingers digging into you.

– Don't do this. – His voice is softer, quieter now, a hint of something vulnerable underneath the anger.

– What, JJ?! What am I doing?! – You snap, pulling your wrist from his grip, the frustration bubbling up again.

– You’re shutting me out! Again. – His voice drops to a near-whisper, and there's a flash of something else in his eyes—a mix of hurt, of something darker. His hand doesn’t let go, but his grip loosens just slightly, like he’s unsure of himself now. You feel his breath, warm against your skin, as he takes a step closer.

– I’m not doing anything to you, JJ! Let go of me! – You try to back away, but he steps forward, into you, pressing you against your door. The space between you feels thick, too charged.

– You are! – His tone is exasperated now. He's persistent, almost pleading, as if he’s trying to make you understand something he can’t put into words. His hand moves up, brushing your arm lightly, and you feel his gaze on you, unsettling in its intensity. – You know exactly what you do to me! But you're still brushing me off! – He glances over at John’s door, pulse quickening. His voice lowers even more, as if the very air in the room is thick with unspoken words. – Let’s just talk... in your room, okay?

– No. – You say it sharply, not even thinking about it, just wanting the space between you both. – I’m going to my room. And you can fucking leave.

JJ’s eyes flash, but it’s not the rage you expected. Instead, there’s a faint shadow of something deeper, something more twisted beneath his frustration. His jaw clenches, and you see that strange desperation flare up in him again.

He only scoffs at you.

Like the mere suggestion is ridiculous. – Stop acting like a child! This shit isn't fucking funny, okay?!

– Get off of me!

– Oh yeah? Is that what you want?

– It's what you're about to do, right now. Get the fuck off of me!

JJ takes a step back, hands up in mock surrender. And you don't wait for him to change his mind. You turn the handle, and step in.

But you barely have the time to brace yourself before he’s right there, his body pressed against yours, his chest against your back as his arms come around you to slam the door shut behind him. You gasp, caught off guard by how close he is—too close. The heat radiating off his skin, the thundering beat of his heart, and the tension in the air suffocates you as he pulls you toward him, his breath hot on the back of your neck.

His grip on your arm is iron, dragging you back with him until your body is flush against his, barely any space between you. The overwhelming closeness, the way his chest rises and falls against your back, makes your mind race, your heart pounding even faster in your chest.

– I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but isn’t fucking cute anymore, okay?! – His voice is low, rough, as if it’s a demand rather than a question. The intensity in it has your body tensing, your pulse skyrocketing.

You can feel every inch of him pressed against you—his chest, his legs, the creeping feeling of his hands as they climb up against your neck—and it's too much. You instinctively shove at his chest, desperate to put some distance between you, but he's relentless, his grip tightening as he pushes you further into the room.

You stumble, your back hitting the door with a soft thud. But there's no escape, not with him this close. You can’t breathe, can’t think straight with him so near. His eyes lock onto yours, unwavering.

– Stop it, JJ this shit isn’t funny! –You try again, more forcefully this time, your hands pressing against his chest. – Let go of me!

But he doesn’t, his body still caging you in, his face just centimeters from yours. His breath is shallow, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to this single point of contact.

– Not until we talk. – he murmurs, his voice rough, almost desperate. He doesn’t back away, his proximity overwhelming in the silence that follows.

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1d1195 · 6 months ago

Text

Most V

Read Most here | ~5.8k words

From me: I've been waiting for this part for a REALLY long time.

Warnings: *drum roll* SMUT, semi-public, unprotected, really needy 18+ also, some pretty angsty chats (and more Lauren)

Summary: Harry has been dying for this date for three years. And all the answers it comes with. Even if he doesn't like some of them. She missed Harry. Plain and simple.

With Addie off the phone, she gazed at her reflection for a moment. The girls did an amazing job with her hair and makeup. She felt beautiful. Beautiful enough to be on a date with Harry. He was one of the only people she had ever been on a date with (as much as she did it, she didn’t consider third-wheeling with Addie and Carter actually dating; and knowing Harry was her soulmate put a damper on the memory of her dates with one of the only other guys she dated, Beau, in the ninth grade). It was simultaneously terrifying and wonderful.

The thought of him made the nerves return. Closing her eyes, she smoothed down the skirt of her dress. It was light green. Nearly matched Harry’s eyes, which was why she selected it. There was a slight V-cut at her neck and had fluttery sleeves at the top of her shoulders. Eleanor insisted it looked beautiful against her skin and the skirt cinched slightly at her waist accentuating her curves and then came to a ruffled hem that hit just above her knee. With a pair of wedged nude sandals, she tried to create the effect that her legs were longer, but she slightly felt like she was playing dress up and this was not a date she was meant to go on.

“I just need to jump,” she whispered to herself encouragingly.

The full effect had Harry’s jaw nearly unhinged to the floor as she entered the kitchen. Eleanor punched him in the arm to keep him from drooling. Sarah smiled excitedly. “You look beautiful.”

“Extremely,” Harry nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her feel naked, but in a really good way. She blushed so cutely. It made Harry’s heart skip a beat. “Ready?” He asked.

She nodded. Because for the first time in ages she felt so ready to go on a date. Eager. Utterly excited to be alone with someone. “Yes,” she smiled.

Dinner passed in a blur. Truly, he was only thinking about the way her smile looked so nice on her lips. How soft her hair framed around her face. The way her skin practically glowed and it was only amplified by the makeup that she decidedly did not need but it looked like she was doing the products a favor by wearing them on her beautiful face. He was only pretty sure they spoke. Chatted about a variety of things but he wasn’t sure he could recall them in detail if asked because he was so overwhelmed by the fact that he was with her, on a date. After all that time.

He suspected there was stuff about work and college. He did remember he told her at least twenty stories about Mrs. Peterson and seriously worried she was one of his best friends, now. She talked about Carter and Addie. Gave an update on her mum and how she enjoyed living closer to her aunt.

But all those details disappeared. He was on a date with her. A date with the love of his life after three years of not seeing her and it was so goddamn effortless to talk to her, make her laugh, and smile with her.

It felt so good he could have cried.

“What are y’going t’do when y’finish your degree?”

“Uh,” she sighed, and Harry sensed her worry almost immediately. Wished he hadn’t made her feel uneasy even a little. Even if it was natural to feel that way.

A little anxiety about her future career was new for her. For the first time in so many years, nervousness that wasn’t because she was worried about him or her love for Harry was a bit of a curve ball. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted it badly, but didn’t know if it would pan out the way she saw it in her mind. “I’m not totally sure, actually,” she admitted. “I’ve got an online portfolio of my work, and I’ve sent it to a ton of publishers, magazines, et cetera,” she took a deep breath. “I could be really stereotypical and just continue waitressing by night and writing by day,” she shrugged. It wasn’t a bad gig. But it wasn’t what she hoped for exactly.

“Someone is going t’pick you up. You are too brilliant t’not be,” he sounded so sure—because he was. If there was anything he believed in, it was her, her dreams, and ambitions. “S’nice it can be... remote, yeah? Let you travel and visit your mum and whatnot,” stay here. With me. He thought silently to himself.

She nodded. “Yeah... I guess. But... I think I’d want to stay here.”

For three years, his heart was not inside his chest. But now it was back, the veins and arteries reconnecting to the rest of his body. Literally putting life back in him. It thudded so loudly he could barely make out the sound of the restaurant around them as he smiled at her. “Good,” he nodded. “Good,” he repeated quietly, relief heavier in his tone.

After a brief protest from her, (and for the first time since she arrived home, he didn’t even look at her as he pushed her hand away) Harry paid and signed the receipt for their meal. Once her glass was nothing but ice, he looked at her expectantly. “D’you want t’get coffee?” He asked, his voice full of hope because he didn’t want the night to end. Not even a little.

She nodded. If the night never ended, she would be glad.

Harry ushered her out of the restaurant, and she held her hand out for his. He took it eagerly and marveled at how her fingers fit the spaces between his; it felt like they were supposed to be there, and his hand was empty, not complete without hers attached to it.

They made their way toward the coffee shop up the road. Holding hands like they had done hundreds of times before. They chatted about the weather. He complimented the way her hair had lighter streaks throughout. She looked good. So good. “Louis and I have been running in the morning,” she told him with a shrug. “I think the sun hits different parts of my hair when it’s up and gives me this highlight effect.”

Harry had no idea he had been running with her. “You have?” He asked. Jealousy flooded him. It wasn’t fair to either of them. It was stupid. But the surprise was genuine.

“Yeah... the first time I went out and I saw him, I chased after him because he didn’t want to talk to me. But I buttered him up with those muffins I—”

“Holy shit, y’made the oat muffins?” He asked in shock. Forget what he said. The jealousy was real. She blushed, feeling bad she let Louis’ secret slip.

“You hate him now, don’t you?”

“Immensely,” he squeezed her hand as she giggled. “Did y’make the blueberry ones or the cranberry ones?”

“Do you actually want that answer?”

“No,” he shook his head quickly. “You’re right.”

“I’ll make some extra,” she offered.

Harry was about to ask her about breakfast tomorrow, but his phone began vibrating in his pocket. It was a great effort and made him feel awful, but he looked at it because he had to. As expected, it was his boss. “M’sorry kitten. S’work. Do y’want t’go in and order?” She smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Tell Lauren I said hi,” he said pressing the phone to his ear and stepping away from the shop a few paces.

Of course, someone was having a family emergency and without a family of his own, Harry was always the first call for overtime and help. There were still hours before he would need to go in. It wasn’t ideal, but still gave him plenty of time to finish his date.

It was well worth getting no sleep if it meant he could spend more precious time with her. It was one thing he was never going to take advantage of ever again. Time with her was the most invaluable thing he had.

“Everything okay?” She asked, holding out a cup to him.

“Thank you. Yeah... jus’... gotta do the overnight at midnight.”

“Oof,” she frowned. Then, much to his delight and surprise, she slipped her hand right back into his, like three years of nothingness didn’t stretch between them. Like they held hands for the last eleven-hundred odd days, every day. “Is that hard?”

For a moment, Harry was speechless, breathless, unable to remember what her question was asking. But then he brought himself back to reality. Harry didn’t like sleeping much. It was where he saw her most. All those dreams of what could have been... so no. It wasn’t hard to do overnights because at least when he was dead tired in the mornings after his shift, he didn’t dream. Didn’t see her. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. “M’used to it.”

“Well, we can head home if you want to get a couple hours of sleep in before—”

“Do y’want t’go home?” He asked immediately, cutting her off, frowning at the idea of ending their night so quickly.

“No!” She answered just as immediately. Then, with a pink color painting her cheeks, she cleared her throat. “Just... want to make sure you’re... okay.”

Now he dreaded it. The couple of hours that he had seemed like nothing. There was no way he would get all the questions he wanted answered out in the open. But he had to start somewhere. “M’fine. Promise. Do y’want t’jus’ drive around for a bit?”

Silently, she nodded. “Please.”

Something shifted as they got back in his car. He wasn’t sure what, but it was a feeling like something had changed in the short time he was on the phone. It was in her eyes, the spiral of anxiety that was beginning to surface from inside her.

It seemed utterly unfair, and he silently hoped she wouldn’t retreat into herself. The thoughts of her leaving like she did three years ago rolled in his head so frequently now that she was home, he had a whole new set of nightmares to keep him company when he did sleep at night.

But right now, she was still in his car, and he had questions to ask.

For the time being, he pointed out new details on road signs that had been fixed and renovations to things in town she couldn’t see from the outside. She asked polite questions but really, he was just wasting time. So finally, Harry went to the next town over. He pulled into a little spot off the side of the road that fit exactly one car and gave a great view of the town. It wasn’t a mountain by any stretch, but high enough to make them feel tall and important.

He imagined it was a popular spot for teens with new licenses to make out as well.

Not that that was his intention.

There was a pause in their conversation. Comfortable and quiet. Then as Harry was about to ask her another question, she bounced in surprise at the sound of fireworks decorating the sky in front of them. “Wow,” she laughed. “All for me?” She winked at him.

He laughed and nodded. “M-hmm, had it all planned,” he watched the sky for a bit but the most beautiful thing he had the pleasure of looking at was her. So, he turned to watch her enjoy the display. She looked so pretty, her face illuminating every few seconds with a different color from the sky. He missed her so viscerally. Like even the freckles on his skin missed her. Every inch of him was plagued with wanting her even though she was right next to him.

If she went silent on him, he was going to lose his mind.

It was now, or never.

“Why did y’do it?” He whispered.

“Do what?” She asked, frowning at his quiet tone.

He closed his eyes, gripped the steering wheel tight. She had to know what he was talking about. “Why did you leave?”

Her breath caught and Harry felt bad for catching her off guard. But she had to know this needed to be said, needed to be dealt with. “Harry,” she sighed, swallowed hard. She looked out the passenger window avoiding the fireworks. “You should just... enjoy the fireworks. This isn’t—”

“Kitten, I need t’know.”

“I know,” her head knocked against the glass. He could just make out her reflection, her pained expression. It was rude of him to press. But he had to keep going. “But we—”

He pressed anyway. “You have t’tell me. Y’jus’ show up after three years of nothing. It killed me.”

“I know,” she croaked. “God, Harry, I know.”

“So tell me,” he was practically begging. “Don’t y’think I deserve t’know? You were m’whole world, kitten. S’not fair of you—”

“Harry, I fucking know!” She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. He was being unfair. In the time they were together they never fought. What did sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds have to fight about? When she left it was just sad. They never argued. So asking her to do this in his car on their first date after so many years, so many days of sadness and heartache, was completely unfair of him.

“I was so lost, kitten,” he wasn’t fighting fair at all. Coaxing her to breaking even though he had every right to know. She didn’t want the night to end and she feared it would if she told him.

“Harry—”

“Please, kitten. Baby, I just want t’understand—”

She choked out an involuntary sob the moment he said baby. “Because you deserved more than me! Okay? You deserved so much more than me and you wouldn’t have let me go so I just left, alright? You deserved more. So much more than me.”

The fireworks seemed quiet after her explosion.

But it didn’t make any more sense to Harry than the very day she first said it. “What does that even mean?”

Clearly, he broke something in her. She cried, hard. Breaking his heart further. He felt like an asshole, but he desperately needed to know. Her pretty makeup was going to be ruined thanks to him. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed into the window.

At least he had an answer.

Now for the next question. “Why did y’come back?” There was no answer for that. Just her quiet sniffles filled the car. She dug into his glove compartment for a napkin to wipe her face. If Harry wasn't so upset, he would have marveled at how she knew where everything was; some things didn't change even if they had. “Kitten, tell me.”

“Harry,” she whimpered. “Please...”

But he was desperate for answers. Desperate to put his heart back together. “I needed to see...” she croaked, her voice dying part way through the sentence.

“See what?” He was exasperated.

“That you had...” she swallowed. “That you had moved on.”

He turned away from her briefly, face twisting in anguish. He shook his head then turned back to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, asking her to face him and look at him when he said the next part. “Moved on?” He repeated. The words didn’t make sense. “How was I supposed t’move on, exactly?”

She sobbed and Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Hold her and kiss her. He wanted to promise it was going to be okay. The way he always did when she cried. But he couldn’t. He needed to know how she thought that it was possible to exist without her. “I thought if I—”

“You are my soulmate, kitten. You know that.”

She whimpered, cheeks flushed, and tears streamed down her face. It pained him to look at her so upset but he had to finish this. Now. “You don’t believe in soulmates,” she whispered. Almost as if she wasn’t talking to him.

“But you told me we were,” his voice was crystal clear, definitive. No room to persuade him of anything else. She was his soulmate. She believed in them, so it had to be true. He believed in her. So that was enough. Harry gripped the steering wheel for all he was worth. Gritted his teeth as he asked his next question. “Did you move on?” The question was lost to the fireworks and the sound of her cries. But she clearly caught some of it.

“...What?” She whispered, tilting her head at him at a strange angle. Like he just told her that the grass was orange and it rained flower petals.

He inhaled sharply realizing he was agonizing over the thought. How long had he been holding that question in his head? Why didn’t he ask it sooner? Well, he knew why he didn’t ask it sooner. A large part of him never wanted to know the answer. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or... a fiancé?”

“Harry,” she rubbed her hands into her eyes.

“Goddammit," he sucked in a deep breath. "Tell me!” His heart was breaking.

“I didn’t date anyone while I was gone. I told people that I, and my heart, were happily taken. It never even crossed my mind, Harry,” she looked at her lap and swallowed nervously.

The fireworks complimented their evening perfectly. He released the breath he was holding and the grip he had on the steering wheel. The feeling came back to his fingers. His knuckles returned to the right color. “You said y’were taken?” He asked, thinking of the same notion he told Mrs. Peterson whenever she wanted to set him up on a blind date. Her gaze returned to his, and she held it for a moment, still in complete silence. Then she nodded. Her sniffles subsided.

Then she snorted, shaking her head with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “A fiancé, Harry? That’s ridiculous.”

“S’not,” he didn’t smile like she did. It was so serious to him. Felt it in his bones how serious it was. “Because if y’thought I was going t’move on from you... I don’t know, kitten,” he shook his head.

“No,” she repeated. Relief flooded him further. “I couldn’t... I took this first aid class,” she swallowed. “You would be really proud of me,” she smiled more genuinely through tears that filled her lash line. “I thought about all the things you taught me yourself when you practiced first aid and whatnot. I knew so much stuff. I was the class pet—”

“Course y’were.”

“—but we practiced taping wrists and ankles and I had to work with this guy, and I thought he was going to kill me,” she sniffed but that smile never left her lips. “I flinched every time his hand touched mine. He probably thought I was in a horrible relationship and that’s why I was learning how to tape injuries. I couldn’t even tell him that it was the exact opposite because I couldn’t tell him about you.”

Harry was silent, watching the explosion of color against the dark sky.

“I thought you would have moved on,” she whispered.

“Y’got your mom t’leave. I couldn’t even ask ‘bout you. You stopped talking to all of us.”

“If it helps at all, it was really lonely. Even with Addie and Carter...” she shrugged.

It didn’t. The thought of her being sad and lonely felt about as painful as her leaving. He was so grateful she had a friend to look after her. Someone to confide in. Because she left a lot of people behind who loved her, but at least Harry had them to comfort him as best they could.

“I thought about you every day,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking about writing our story. I’ve been outlining it... reliving every memory through it. Every painful thing. I think it’ll be a series and honestly, I think it will be really good because the ending will be sad, and no one will see it coming because we didn’t see it coming and—”

“Our book?”

She paused. “You were my favorite thing to write about.”

He shook his head. He knew that. It wasn’t a conceited kind of thing. She said it all the time and he knew it. “What do you mean a sad ending?”

Another pause. She closed her eyes and sighed. “You can’t possibly want me back.”

Another long pause. Harry mulled it over and he realized just how angry he was. What had he done wrong that she didn’t feel adored by him? Where had he messed up and not made her feel safe? Did he let go of her hand like when they were on the balcony the other day? It was too much for him. His grip tightened on the steering wheel again. “What is the matter with you?” He put his head on the steering wheel against his hands as he spit the words out. He hated arguing with her. He felt pulled in two directions to have this conversation and comfort her. It seemed impossible to do them both at the same time.

“Harry,” she frowned. “I’m—”

He shook his head and smacked his hands against the wheel as he sat back. “I am never going t’stop wanting you. Don’t you get that? There is no ending with us. There can’t be. I have been waiting for three years for you t’come back t’me. You’re here and y’think I’m jus’ supposed t’have move—”

She was kissing him.

Her lips covered his in a hungry kind of way. Raw, achy, and hot. She pulled away briefly, her breath short pants. Her hand at the back of his head, her fingers pulled and tightened snuggly against locks of his hair. Poor Harry was so surprised he didn’t fully grasp what was happening and forgot to kiss her back.

He hoped she didn’t think it was too late. Or too soon, maybe, for him to agree to this kind of thing. But he only let one additional second pass before his lips were back on hers. His hands held each side of her face pulling her close to him, awkwardly around the console.

She seemed to melt into the kiss, her whole body releasing a long breath that made her shoulders fall, her body sinking forward. Harry moaned quietly into her mouth. One hand slid from her face into the back of her perfectly styled hair. Within five more seconds he started to pull her over the console separating them. He heard the clunk of one of her shoes falling onto the floor. With one hand on the small of her back, he used his free hand to push the seat back to give her more room between his body and the steering wheel.

Harry wasn’t her first kiss. But the way it felt, he may as well have been. She wished he was. There was nothing better than kissing him. There was a familiar possessiveness in the mix of their lips and breath. It was like he was saying no one else was ever going to kiss her as well as he did. Softly, his tongue slid across the seam of her lips to get her to open further.

Harry knew she didn’t like lots of tongue in her kisses. Which was fine with Harry, a quick brush of her tongue against his was plenty and not the part he cared about much anyway. The way she sucked his lower lip into her mouth and traced it with her tongue nearly made him finish in his pants. Her lips were so sweet. Just like her. It was the most natural feeling in the world to kiss her. Like he kissed her yesterday, the day before, all last year, and every other day succeeding her departure. “God,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Hmm,” he hummed. His hands touched everywhere. Roamed along her sides and around her back, up her arms and cupped the sides of her neck. He wanted to touch her everywhere. It felt so good to hold her and the way she moaned made him assume she was enjoying it just as much. It had been ages since she had been touched and that was fine because she didn’t want anyone to touch her but Harry. His hands were warm and felt so good on her back. Even through her dress. Even though it was summer and very warm, she shivered and nuzzled closer. The car was too small and the space between them was too big. “Baby, can we—”

“Yes,” she whispered. It didn’t matter what he asked. She was a yes to anything he said. He groaned into her mouth and slid his hands between them, lifting the skirt of her dress just above her hips so everything was covered but easier to access.

“Kitten,” he moaned when she reached between them as well and fiddled with the button of his jeans. Why on earth would he have a condom? The thought of being with anyone else so intimately was laughable. “I don’t have—”

“I don’t care.”

He groaned again and kissed down the length of her neck, his tongue poking out to lick at the spots he kissed. She thought she was going to pass out, but she didn’t want to miss a second of this feeling. So, she refused to pass out. “I forgot,” he was breathless as he shifted trying to make space between them so he could pull his pants down just a little more, just enough. “Forgot how much I missed this.”

“What did you miss?” She whispered just as breathlessly, her lips against his neck as he reached between the two of them, slid his fingers against her underwear and pushed it to the side. She whimpered at the light friction of his knuckle barely grazing her clit even though it wasn’t his intention.

Harry’s moans were nearly obscene. They turned her to jelly. “I missed everything, kitten. Everything.”

She shivered again at his response. When she felt him lining himself up, pressing through her folds so easily because she was already an aching wet mess for him, she cried out again. The electric feeling coursed through her and it wasn’t fair that she made him lose this feeling for three years. “Oh,” she tucked her face into his neck.

“I’m... fuck, baby,” he whispered as the head of his cock slipped deeper inside her. He didn’t want to know if she had sex while he was gone. In his mind he was the only person that got to be inside her like this—to feel her like this. His voice was raspy. Not even a whisper really. “I’m not...” his other hand that wasn’t helping her slip further down on him cupped the back of her neck. “S’not going t’last...” He couldn’t even give a time frame because he was so far gone. “S’been...”

She didn’t want to know how long it had been for him. The idea he had sex with someone else would probably make her inconsolable while he was inside her and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. She shook her head and kissed the space just below his ear that used to drive him crazy. “I don’t mind,” she promised.

“God,” he closed his eyes and pressed his face to the front of her chest. Her dress was still in the way, but he wanted to rip it off her. He couldn’t because as much as he was enjoying this—and yes, he would have loved to feel her nipples in his mouth—he refused the risk of anyone seeing her naked like that. This was already bolder than anything they had ever done before—and the intimacy of seeing her fall apart was for him only. A possessive stance he would never let go of.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. It was too hot in the car; her skin was damp with sweat from pressing so close to Harry and the exertion of fitting in the small space between him and the steering wheel. She wanted nothing more than to stay glued to Harry like that, his dick deep inside her for as long as she lived. They really were two puzzle pieces just meant to fit together. For a brief moment she paused the way she was moving slowly up and down his cock; hoping that maybe she would just die in that car because at least this would be the last thing she ever did. Their breathing stilled, quieted. He tilted his neck back, smiled as he gazed up at her.

“You’re so beautiful, kitten,” he whispered.

It was embarrassing that she could come that quickly and that hard from just his compliment and he wasn’t even moving inside her.

She gasped so loudly. Her whines and moans releasing from her without warning. She felt distraught and whole. It was practically primal the way she started to bounce up and down again, only ever so slightly, her legs shaking to find purchase on the side of his seat near the door and dodging the seatbelt holder with her knee. It wasn’t conducive to do this here but what choice did they have when they couldn’t wait a second longer?

“Oh my God, fuck, kitten,” he groaned, wrapping his arms tight around her waist, kissing at her throat and the exposed cleavage he did have access too. He met her greedy little bounces to prolong the euphoria that was coursing through her, making her clench around his cock so hard he thought he was going to exist outside of his body. “Baby, I can’t pull out,” he warned her.

They were young, but not in high school young anymore. Getting pregnant wasn’t their worst fear anymore as it was their first go around leading to her going to the doctor and asking for birth control. In fact, getting pregnant probably didn’t even crack the top ten. But even still... “Pill,” she rasped. “Please,” she begged.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned. His hand slid beneath her dress. He pressed the tip of his finger directly on her clit and rubbed perfect little circles on it.

So perfectly, she was going to explode again. The fireworks had nothing on her. “Oh my God, please,” she cried. The plead, the feel of her squeezing around him again, the heat of her and the car... all of it was a heady combination that left Harry completely useless as he finished inside her at the exact moment that she dropped her face to his shoulder again and fluttered around him. As Harry finally released a breath, he had been holding for three years it seemed, he found she was still trying to squeeze her thighs around him to savor the pleasure. He couldn’t blame her. All he wanted to do was make her come over and over.

There were a lot of firsts they shared over their relationship, and Harry was so grateful to have another even after all the time between them. His body twitched as she stayed in place, her breathing finally slowing. Harry felt hot, too hot but didn’t dare remove her from his body. He held her to him as he shifted more, her bum bumped into the car horn. She giggled once and Harry smiled. His breathing slowed, following hers.

The car was silent except for their labored breathing. They were young when they had sex back then. They thought it was good back then. But it didn’t compare to that. She felt a wave of worry that he had practiced all while she was gone. The same worry went right through him nearly at the same time. Maybe she sensed it because he relieved her with one sentence. “I read an embarrassing number of books with scenes like the one we just reenacted.”

Harry sighed with relief; his nose pressed to her ear. His lips brushed her temple and he spoke quietly. “Send me every single page y’read, kitten.”

She giggled making her clench around him as he softened. He groaned involuntarily. He didn’t want to leave her body. Terrified it would never be like this again. As he started to move, she stopped him. “Um... Do you have a towel?” She whispered; her cheeks probably would have flushed asking the question, but it was impossible to tell with the endorphins that flooded her blood doing most of the work now.

Harry felt a little stupid at the moment, so he nodded, then shook his head. He didn’t fully understand her question but wanted to try for her.

“Uhh... here,” he reached in the backseat for a T-shirt with the station’s logo on it. As he shifted, she whimpered at the feeling of him moving inside her again. He kept a hand on her dress, right at her hip and rubbed his thumb soothingly against her.

“I can’t use this and then have you wear it around town,” she frowned.

“Baby,” he snickered. “I wouldn’t wear it... in public," he teased. She lightly hit his chest with the back of her hand.

She slowly pulled off him, falling back into the passenger seat, the T-shirt between her legs. She finger-combed her hair as best she could and checked her makeup for obvious smudges. Harry mussed with his hair quickly and then placed his hand on her knee. She held it with both hands, brought his fingers to her lips and kissed his knuckles no less than ten times.

“That was perfect,” she whispered.

Forget her writing, she was her very own poem. He smiled. “Always, kitten.”

Harry took the long way back to her apartment. Her grip didn’t loosen around his hand. Not even when he needed to take a turn. When he finally parked, she looked at him expectantly. “I don’t want t’go,” he whispered. “I would quit right now, if I could. I want t’talk all night and tell y’everything and know everything, kitten. M’so...” he shook his head terrified that if he left right now all the progress, everything would be gone. “I missed you so completely baby. I need t’know everything there is t’know ‘bout you and the last three years and all the thoughts y’had. S’not fair and m’so—”

“Harry,” she smiled, squeezed his hand encouragingly. She brought a hand to his chin and rested her forehead against his. “I’ll see you tomorrow; right after your shift, okay?” she kissed him gently on the lips. A soft brush of promising more.

Relief flooded him. “Yeah?” Their mouths were so close as he spoke, his lips touched hers the entire time.

“I’ll be here,” she promised. That little saying, “it was music to his ears,” never really made much sense to him. But right then it did. It made so much sense. She was music. She was the sun. She was fireworks. “Good night, Harry. Have a good shift,” she whispered and pressed her lips solidly against his once more making him feel like he could do anything.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

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@angeldavis777

most: @harryspirate

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #harry styles #most #best friend!harry #second chance romance!harry

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biceratops7 · 10 months ago

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I feel like we don’t really acknowledge the absolutely unhinged levels of moral superiority people hold over fans of ofmd. Like I’m not gonna get into specifics but it’s so completely bonkers to me that people will see enjoyment of MUCH more problematic media and skip along their merry way… But then when a show with a diversity of skin tones, sexuality, gender, ability, AND writers gets popular, suddenly you’ll have people practically telling you to get a red hot poker up the ass if you dare to still like it when it’s not the most virtuous bastion of media to every exist.

Yadada yada yada that Sarah Z video asking why we hold diverse media to a much higher moral standard than we do anything else

#a show being diverse doesn’t absolve it or wrong doing #but it sure does make people REALLY FUCKING PUT A EGG FRYING SPOTLIGHT on its ‘’problematic’’ elements #like non diverse media is almost never subjected to to such a degree #our flag means death #ofmd #fandom meta #biceratops

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michaelwheelerdefiodental · 20 days ago

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A topic that nobody asked for (or asked, i don't know), the main gang nemesis on Season 5:

Eleven🖕Linda Hamilton Character:

Yeah i know what you're thinking, "what about Vecna", but just follow me. Linda Hamilton character is apparently a female Brenner, but with actual military experience, so she will be a manipulative scientist like Brenner, this already makes Eleven having a hatred towards her probable. The hand to hand experience that she has can be dangerous for the rest of the gang aswell. Some people probably think it doesn't make sense for her to be throwing hands, but it's Linda Hamilton we are talking about, the OG Sarah Connor, the Duffer Brothers will make her a beast in a fight, both with guns or with her bare hands.

Will🖕Mind Flayer and Vecna (and Lonnie too):

This is why i think Eleven wouldn't have Vecna as her ultimate nemesis. Henry has a lot of similarities with Will as we can see on his flashback, but they ended up as total opposites. And we don't need to talk about Mind Flayer beef with Will, it's kinda embarrasing to be a interdimensional entity and still having the need of tormeting a teenager gay loser.

And there is that bitch ass Loonie too, i don't have anything too say about him.

Mike🖕Unnamed Creature (and Chance):

To start, Mike beef with Chance won't be because of this weird and boring theory that Chance has a crush on Will, but because Chance is the total opposite of Mike, he just follow orders and stay quiet, Mike is someone who wouldn't let anybody dictate what he is supposed to do (there's a post comparing all of the four core with the basketball gang, but i couldn't find it, sorry).

This unnamed creature is probably what was roaring during that scene of Robin, Nancy, Steve and Eddie on the Upside Down. It is probably that monster that Nancy saw on her visions. My bet is that Hopper will probably give that sword for Mike, giving the title of hero to him.

Hopper🖕Sullivan:

What is better than give a tramautized ex-soldier a Colonel as his enemy? It would be pretty much a cycle ending, after he got scarred for life and lost his first daughter because of higher ups that made him help them with war crimes against their enemies, he will end the life of one them that is actually trying to kill his second daughter too.

Dustin🖕Andy:

Some people are kinda of underestimating Andy, if you watch season 4 again you'll see how unhinged he is (i will make a post talking about how much of a threat he can be in this season), besides the fact that he will seek revenge for Jason by attacking the hellfire club ex-members, and Dustin is pretty much using their shirt in most of the paparazzi pics.

Lucas🖕All of the Basketball Team:

He probably is angry at them because of Max situation and they're angry at him because of Jason death. I hope to see some kind of revenge by Lucas part.

Jonathan and Steve🖕This Soldier:

On one way or another we will have a scene of Jonathan and Steve beating some asses together, and this guy seems to be around the age of 25 or a little bit older, so they can pretty much have a showdown against him. This could be that epic scene Jonathan and Steve will share together that the hawkinsfamilyphoto (Chris, a paparazzi) said he would release if he reaches a certain amount of payed members on Twitter/X.

Robin and Vickie🖕Town Folks:

I have this theory that some type of religious cult group will be manipulated by Henry, and they will have something against the whole group and mainly with Will, Mike, Robin and Vickie because of their little secret.

Here's a link for the post talking about this theory:

What about the others?

The rest of the group would have the same enemies as the others, just with less hatred or rivalry against them.

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lilac-hecox · 18 days ago

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Reddit Stories Guest Stats

So, for fun I kept track of the guests on Reddit Stories from when they began (counting current format and not the initial videos they did). The guests are in order of their chronological appearance except they are also in order of the number of the appearances on the show.

This is just for fun and for interesting purposes to see the break down of the guests on the episodes and what duos are featured most as of now.

I intend on keeping this updated as Reddit Stories comes out via editing and reblogging each week when a new episode comes out.

I'd love thoughts, comments, etc. on thoughts on this!

-- Updated Feb 1st, 2025 --

Smosh Reddit Statistics

Courtney & Angela: 4 – Relationships Gone Wrong | Relationship Flops | Reddit Soup For The Soul | 2024’s Worst Person

Chanse & Angela: 4 – Most Unpredictable Reddit Stories | Iconic r/AITA Stories | The Devil In Disguise | Congratulations Are In Order

Amanda & Arasha: 3 – Secondhand Cringe | I’m Sorry, WHAT? | Who Do They Think They Are?!

Courtney & Trevor: 3 – Am I The Ex? | You Won’t See This Coming | Are They Better Off?

Ian & Damien: 3- Most Disturbing Stories Yet | Play Stupid Games | The Messiest Relationships On Reddit

Ian & Courtney: 3 – Break Ups And Brush Offs | Nightmare Vacation Stories | Why Would They Do This?

Arasha & Trevor: 3- Are These Relationships Doomed? | Dating Dos And Don’t’s | Not So Happy Holidays

Olivia & Amanda: 2 – Revenge | What Were They Thinking?!

Ian & Arasha: 2 – Did They Go Too Far? | Stories That Make You Go “Oof”

Spencer & Tommy: 2- Office Nightmares | Shayne’s Favorite Reddit Stories

Ian & Anthony: 2 – Unexpected Reunions | It’s Brutal Out Here

Angela & Damien: 2 – Why Are They Like This? | And They Were Roommates

Amanda & Angela: 2 – Once A Cheater | Reddit’s Messiest Drama

Tommy & Amanda: 2 – Looking For Revenge | The Reddest Red Flags

Tommy & Courtney: 2 – Reddit’s Biggest Regrets | Friend Or Foe?

Courtney & Spencer: 2 – Worst Of The Worst | From The Weird Corners Of The Internet

Ian & Amanda: 2 – Am I Safe??? | Catching Flights And Starting Fights

Angela & Spencer: 2 – Is He Cheating? | Office Horror Stories

Tommy & Chanse: 2 – The 4/20 Episode | The Most Unhinged Dating Stories

Amanda & Damien: 2 – The Weirdest AITA Stories | Reddit Stories To Tell In The Dark

Tommy & Damien: 2 – It’s Just A Prank Bro | These Reddit Stories Will Blow Your Mind

Arasha & Courtney: 2 – Is Blood Thicker Than Water? | The Most Self-Centered People On Reddit

Trevor & Angela: 2 – Most Embarrassing Stories Yet | Why Would You Post This Online??

Chanse & Courtney: 2 – First Date Flops | What Goes Around Comes Around

Chanse & Kimmy: 1 – Unhinged Holiday Stories

Mac & Jackie: 1 – Unhinged / Say Less

Spencer & Ian: 1 – Is She The Villain?

Rachel & Ify: 1 – Family Drama

Mac & Tommy: 1 – Gay Drama

Damien & Noah: 1 – Are They The Devil?

Damien & Courtney: 1 – World’s Worst Roommates?

Jackie & Keith: 1 – Toxic Friendships

Spencer & Noah: 1 – High School Drama

Ian & Tommy: 1 – Parties Gone Wrong

Noah & Courtney: 1 – Siblings Stories

Noah & Amanda (Swell Entertainment): 1 – Getting Nerdy

Angela & Thomas Sanders: 1- Wholesome

Spencer & Zach Kornfeld: 1 – Try Not To Cringe

Chanse & Amanda: 1- Serving Drama

Amanda & CallMeKris: 1 – Scary Stories

Garrett & Olivia: 1 – Travel Horror Stories

Keith & Noah: 1 – The Dumbest Stories Of All Time

Chanse & Arasha: 1 – Not Getting Married Today

Tommy & Noah: 1 – They Did WHAT?

Courtney & Amanda: 1 – Am I The Grinch?

Arasha & Anthony: 1 – 2023’s Worst Person

Angela & Tommy: 1 – Feel Good For Once

Damien & Quinton Reviews: 1 – Offscreen Drama

Sabrina Brier & Angela: 1 – Mean Girls In Real Life

Courtney & Sarah Whittle: 1 – World’s Worst Co-Workers

Chanse & Mac: 1 – Party Nightmares

Tommy & Morgan (Two Hot Takes): 1

Arasha & Spencer: 1 – Spilling Reddit’s Secrets

Anthony & Courtney: 1 – The Best And Worst Friends

Arasha & Angela: 1 – Seeking Sweet Revenge

Cammie & Taryn: 1 – The Pride Episode

Arasha & Tommy: 1 – Back To School Stories

Angela & Mac: 1 – Updates Only

Spencer & Amanda: 1 – A Bad Case Of The Sillies

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realmsdelght · 2 years ago

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Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince; Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: your friends hate Rafe, but Miss Americana will always defend her Heartbreak Prince Warning: language, alcohol, and mention of drugs Word count: 2,2k

Kildare Island was small, everyone knew everyone, and every person had an opinion about every person on the island.

Rafe Cameron had a reputation. Bad boy, spoiled, unhinged, psycho, every bad adjective in the book was used for him. And yet he was a magnet, not just from girls, but from people in general. But no one ever thought he would find love, people thought he would marry a ‘hot’ gold digger who he would cheat on and take his anger on.

Sunshine, as everyone called the girl, was the light of the island, a kook with a heart of gold. Friends with Sarah Cameron and Kiara Carrera, she loved a good party and drinks, but she still woke up early the next day to volunteer with Kie. She was one of the few people who everyone liked on the island.

So when Sunshine and Rafe Cameron showed up together at Midsummers, his arm around her waist, people were shocked. The day after the event gossip spread like wildfire, everyone was talking about the new couple and wondering how that happened. Even months after dating, most people still couldn't believe Rafe was able to get with someone like that.

“Baby!” The girl’s voice rang through the house.

“Coming!” He sang to her.

The girl turned around when she heard footsteps, waiting for her man. She gave him her best smile as she watched him walk into the room with a bucket of popcorn in his hand. Rafe sat down, placing the popcorn in his girl’s lap.

“Thank you,” she gave him a peck on the lips before turning back to the TV. The couple was not even 30 minutes into their movie when the girl threw the empty bucket to the side and jumped on her boyfriend’s lap.

“Oh wow,” the boy’s hands immediately went to her ass.

“So… I was thinking. Maybe going to a party on a Friday night is not a bad idea,” she said as she tried to read her boyfriend’s reaction.

“My party girl is bored already?” He joked.

She rolled her eyes before giving him another kiss, “I’m not bored, I just wanna dance.”

“Then let's go princess,” he said, getting up and carrying his girl to his room.

They knew what would happen when they decided to go out. Every Time they went out there was something. Both of them got a lot of attention, both good and bad, which often led to arguments and fights. Sunshine’s friends hated Rafe, which they always made known. And the Cameron boy loved trouble, she thrived in fights, and he would get in fights if his girlfriend’s name was mentioned in a conversation. Yet here they were, Rafe sat on the couch watching as Sunshine danced with some of her friends.

“Rafe, man. I didn’t think I would see you here today,” a guy he didn’t know sat down beside him and Kelce.

“I thought you were on a leash,” some other guy joked.

Kelce looked at his friend, hoping he was sober enough to take it as a joke. “None of your fucking business, man,” he made sure it came out rougher than his drunk self meant it, but he didn’t want some random guy talking about his girl.

“Wait, I thought you said you were staying in and watching movies,” Kelce turned to him, ignoring the boys around them.

“Sunshine wanted to dance, so here we are,” he smiled at his friend.

Kelce smiled at the Cameron boy. He would never tell his friend, but he was happy for him, no one had ever seen Rafe Cameron so happy, and he thought it was a nice look on his friend.

Sunshine loved a good movie night, but this party was what she needed at the moment. There was nothing better than to dance with her friends, and hopefully drink until her boyfriend had to carry her home. She was lost in her own world, dancing with Kie behind her, until someone got her out of her zone. “Babes, can you tell your psycho boyfriend to stop staring,” her friend Olivia asked, making her take a deep breath.

Olivia and her friends from highschool were a difficult story. She loved them to death, but they despised Rafe, and they were always on her ass about it, to the point where even Sunshine couldn’t be around them most times.

“Chill, he is just admiring his beautiful girlfriend,” a drunk Kie said.

Olivia scoffed, making Sunshine turn towards her, “he isn't doing anything. He’s just looking at me,” she tried to defuse the situation.

“It’s never anything with him until he’s punching someone in the face,” she rolled her eyes.

“Can we not?” She was over the argument, “I came here to have fun with my friends, not to argue.”

“With that said, let’s go get a drink,” Kie broke the group up, pulling her away. The two walked towards Pope and JJ, who were near the keg.

“Excuse me,” Sunshine took a bottle from Pope’s hand, taking a big swig from it.

“You know,” Kie took a sip from JJ’s cup, “ I never thought I would find someone that hated Rafe more than we do,” she pointed out.

The girl sighed loudly, “I honestly don’t understand. I know Rafe is an asshole, but he hasn’t done everything to them. Honestly, I have never been happier, and I just don’t understand why they can’t be happy for me,” Pope threw his arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

“If it makes you feel better, we hate his guts but we are really happy for you,” JJ smirked at her.

“Thanks, J,” she smiled at him.

Sunshine never hung out with the pogues before, not because she had anything against them, she was even friends with Kie during school, but they just never ran in the same circles. But that changed once Sarah started going out with John B, and Sunshine had to say she was glad. After she started dating Rafe, the pogues were there for her, while her own friends ignored her.

The group decided to ignore any animosities and have fun. They danced, drank, and even played some beer pong, and at some point, even Sunshine’s friends joined them.

Rafe loved seeing his Sunshine like this, so happy he thought she was glowing, and he thought the only way she could look better was with his arms around her.

“I will be back,” he told Kielce, who nodded and handed him another beer.

In Rafe’s mind, there was no one else in the room, just her. His Sunshine lit the whole room, he was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. Kie made a funny face at her, which he knew could only mean one thing. She felt strong arms wrap around her, and she knew. Aside from Kie’s face, those arms, the cologne, everything about that person was familiar.

“Hi babygirl,” he whispered.

“Hi baby,” she melted in his arms.

“You having fun?” He asked.

“We were before you came here,” Kie smiled, giving him the finger. Whether it was more joking than serious, the couple wasn’t sure, but they didn’t care.

“Is this for me?” Sunshine asked when she noticed the two beer cans in her boy’s hand.

“Just this one,” he opened the can and handed it to her, “don’t want you to get more drunk,” he joked.

“Hey!” She turned around to face him, “not drunk, just tipsy,” she winked at him, taking a sip of her beer.

“I know baby,” he gave her a quick kiss.

It was weird for the pogues to see Rafe like this, so happy and calm, but they were sure happy for Sunshine, and also for the rest of the island that didn't have to deal with Rafe’s unhinged wrath.

“Giving her another drink, really?” Someone mumbled behind them, and Sunshine knew exactly who that was.

The girl could feel how tense his arms had gotten around her, but the two of them turned around slowly.

“Don’t start please,” Sunshine pleaded.

“I’m not starting anything. I just don’t think you should be drinking anymore, and it’s not responsible of your boyfriend to be giving you more alcohol,” Olivia said.

Before his girl could say anything Rafe’s fighter spirit got the best of him, “and I think my girl is an adult and can have as many drinks as she wants.”

“Of course you want her drunk,” one of the girls said, causing the people around to gasp.

Sunshine got out of her boyfriend’s arms and walked closer to Olivia and her friends, “don’t you talk about him like that ever again,” she pointed at the girl.

“That’s what I’m talking about, he changed you,” Olivia pointed out.

“No, he hasn’t,” Sunshine drunkenly shouted. Her reaction surprised everyone. No one had ever seen Sunshine raise her voice to anyone, let alone shouting at someone.

“Yes, you have!” She shouted back, “since you started dating him you have barely hung out with us anymore.”

“That’s because all you do is shit on my boyfriend,” Sunshine said.

“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” Olivia screamed, “he is a coke head that likes beating the shit out of people, and uses his daddy’s credit card to buy blow.” It was as if the room stopped, everyone else around them was waiting for the Cameron boy to explode.

Rafe felt the rage boiling from deep inside him, and at that point he was not past punching Olivia. But as much as he hated to admit it, her words hit straight into his insecurities, so differently than what anyone expected, he took a deep breath and walked away, leaving everyone speechless at the party.

When the initial shock was over, Sunshine realized what had just happened and ran towards the door that Rafe had just walked through. Once outside, the girl looked around for her boy, but he was nowhere to be found, it was as if he had just disappeared. She walked closer to where the car was parked, but as soon as she reached the higher level of the street she saw someone’s back, sitting alone in the sand by the house. Sunshine walked towards Rafe, silently sitting down by her boyfriend.

Rafe didn’t bother to look at her and she knew what that meant, “don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he shrugged.

“You are doing that face, the face when you get into your own head and start overthinking,” she finally looked at him, but the boy's eyes were still on the ocean.

“She is right,” he looked at her, “Olivia is right. I always thought about it, but I never said it out loud.”

“Baby,” her voice came out shaky, and she reached to hold his hand.

“No, she is right. I’m a trust fund kid who does coke and drinks, and I have no future outside my dad’s company,” he started tearing up.

“Oh Rafey,” she placed her hands on his cheeks, making him look at her. “You remember my boyfriend during senior year, the soccer team captain?”

Rafe was confused as to why she was telling him this, but oh, he did remember that guy, “yeah, that asshole… he used to shit talk us for partying every weekend but he smoked more weed than JJ.”

She giggled, “that one. Everyone always told me how lucky I was, he was a good boy, went to church on holidays, was a mama's boy, all of that. And he was…,” she took a deep breath, “he is a good guy, but after we broke up I realized some things. It didn’t matter how much of a good guy he was, he never really saw me,” Rafe gave her hand a squeeze. “When he went to college I would do anything for him, care packages, I would visit him any time I could but he never put that much effort into it. I know he was busy with classes and all, but he couldn’t even pick up the phone if I called without letting him know beforehand.”

“Asshole,” the Cameron boy muttered.

“All the anxiety I had about intimacy and relationships, I told him about that, I told him about how often I felt like I didn’t deserve him. I knew none of that was his fault or responsibility, but I wanted to feel acknowledged, I wanted him to tell me he would be here for me for whatever I needed. But he just ignored me, hoping I would fix myself on my own.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Rafe said.

“My point is, he was perfect in the conventional way, but Rafe,” she looked into his eyes, “you saw me, all of me, flaws and all. You helped me through my anxieties, and you showed me what love really is. You make me feel so loved, I don’t think you understand how much the little things you do mean to me. You deserve all the love in the world, and you are worthy of it. All of it.”

Rafe placed his hand on her cheeks, getting closer so their noses were touching, “remember what I said to you the first time we kissed?”

“It’s you and me,” she giggled.

“That’s my whole world,” he got even closer, lips almost touching.

“And fuck everyone else and their opinion,” she said.

Rafe laughed, “I guess they were right, you are a bad bad girl now,” he kissed her, “but yeah, fuck those assholes.”

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #outer banks imagine #drew starkey #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic

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cassiewritessalot · 1 month ago

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scream! ༉‧₊˚.

jj maybank x fem!reader

inspired by scream from high school musical 3!

୨ৎ summary: you moved away and left jj, you didn't tell anyone anything before you left. he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore without you.

୨ৎ warnings: cussing, arguing, i think that's it?

୨ৎ cassie's notes: so sorry for going complete m.i.a, and also this is so short i hate it. i've been so burnt out and wrote this the second i got the idea, enjoy! with love always, cassie <33333.

you left him.. you left him all alone, and he doesn't know what to do.

jj rides the twinkie around obx, thinking if he mindlessly drives around he'll find you. or maybe he'll find reasons as to why you left. he wanted to figure out why you left the pogues, why you left him.

what do i do now without you?

i don't know where to go

what's the right team?

i want my own thing

so bad i'm gonna scream!

he didn't know where to look first, thinking you'd be at the beach catching some waves but you weren't there. he thought you'd be with kie and sarah, but you weren't. you weren't in any place that you'd typically be. shortly after he began spiralling and called john b to try and calm himself down.

"i don't know where the fuck she is man! i gotta find my girl!" jj screamed into his phone as john b tried to give him places to look but jj was one step ahead and already checked those places.

"did you try her place? or the beach? maybe she went to help pope with deliveries." john b's voice echoed through the speakers.

"dude her parents are assholes she'd never go home to them, she's not at the beach and yes i checked both and pope hasn't seen her.." jj says into the phone and begins to get even more worried than before causing him to spiral more.

he knew if you were with him he would know what to do, but you weren't. if you were here he wouldn't be in this situation of frantically looking for you everywhere.

which way i can't tell

i'm searchin, searchin', can't find a (way that i should turn)

i should turn right or left this?

it's like nothing works without you!

jj felt like he was losing his mind. he knew he wouldn't be able to cope with you not being by his side. he needed you, he wasn't afraid to admit that. he needed you like how the earth needs the sun to revolve around it. you were his sun, you made him glow happiness and love.

you made his life better, you made him a different person. a better person at that. he ends the call with john b after several minutes have gone by and he didn't listen to a word john b said in those minutes. he keeps his eyes on the road and tries not to lose focus and he stops by one more beach, a beach only you two knew about where you'd go for some alone time.

he gets out of the driver's seat of the twinkie and walks to a spot you two had gone. it was a secluded spot with a massive rock covering most of it.

he put his face in his hands when he didn't find you and began walking back and forth angrily talking- actually, screaming at himself. he was angry at himself for letting you get away, he thought it was his fault you left.

yeah the clock's running down

hear the crowd getting loud

i'm consumed by the sound

is it her? is it love?

can the music ever be enough?

"gotta work it out, gotta work it out, you can do it.." the blond boy whispered to himself as he started thinking of unhinged ideas to get you back as he gazed at the open ocean infront of him.

the voices in his head started to sound like a crowd with the amount of overlapping commencing in his head, he tried to clear his head. he tried. but they didn't stop, every voice was chanting your name and he couldn't take it anymore. so he screamed.

"fuck!" he screamed loudly knowing nobody had heard him as the beach was just outside of town and he began kicking the sand. after his little outburst he stroked his hair with hand before making his way back to the twinkie thinking of a new plan already.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj obx imagine #jj obx #jj maybank #cassiewritessalot

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beautifuldisaster88 · 11 months ago

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A Match Made In Hell

Pairings: Dark!Rafe x Female!Reader (She comes off sweet and innocent but is actually a psychopath)

Summary: Rafe Cameron fell in love with the OBX's sweet and innocent kook princess, but what was it about her that drew him in? When she turns out to be just as psychotic (if not more than Rafe) as him, what will happen? Will the once peaceful and quiet Kildare Island be turned upside down? Will anyone find out the truth about her? Or will her sweet and innocent persona be enough to fool an entire island?

Warnings: Dark themes, mentions of torture and murder, murder, mentions of weapons, weapon use, details of torture and murder, unprotected sex P in V, knife play, mention of branding, drug use, to sum it all up they're both psychopaths! Read at your own risk.

A/N: I used the name Sky/Skylar, but you can picture reader however you want. Other than describing how she dresses and acts, there isn't much physical description of her. Fair warning this is longer than I originally planned for it to be . Guess you could say I went overboard with this shit. However, I did try to shorten it more, deciding to end it where I did, otherwise it probably would have turned into a full blown story.

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!!!!MDNI!!! 18+

With Rafe Cameron, what you see is what you get. The eldest of the three Cameron siblings, Rafe was unhinged, a psychopath. From trying to drown his sister, Sarah, to murdering Sheriff Peterkin, beating those dirty Pogues to a pulp any time he had the chance, pulling a gun on his dad, to actually shooting Sarah. The list of crimes that the Cameron male had committed only continued to pile up. The good thing about being a Cameron? It meant that Rafe got away with murder, literally. He was a true psychopath and everyone knew it.

Then you have Skylar Rose, Outer Banks sweetheart, the kook princess. The Rose family held just as much power on the island as the Cameron family, if not more. Skylar or Sky as everyone called her was the complete opposite of Rafe. She was the definition of innocent, wearing white flowy summer dresses, nails always perfectly manicured, flowers usually adorned in her wavy beach wave hair, makeup always perfectly done and perfectly applied glossy lips. The Rose girl always had a smile on her face that was brighter than the sun, greeting everyone that she passed on the island, both Kooks and Pogues. If someone needed help, Sky was the first to lend a hand, no questions asked. She loved babies, animals, stuffed animals, anything that was pink and sparkly. She was the Outer Banks angel, untouched by any guy. That was until Rafe Cameron made her his own.

You see, under all those innocent layers laid something dark and twisted. While others only saw her as innocent, Rafe knew that there was more to Skylar Rose, and he made it his mission to bring out her true nature, which took less persuasion than he expected.

The couple was trouble together, feeding each other their psychotic desires behind closed doors. So, what happens when people start going missing on the small island and bodies start turning up? Normally, the Cameron men, Rafe and his father Ward would be the first that the people of Kildare County would blame, but with Sky now in the picture, it left the residents of the island puzzled. They truly believed that Sky had Rafe under control. Oh, how wrong they were.

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It was a typical Friday night on Figure Eight. Rafe had convinced Topper to throw a party at his place, bitching that Ward refused to let the Cameron male throw anymore of his parties at Tannyhill, at least when Ward was home. With Sky giving the Thornton male her sweetest and most innocent smile and pleading eyes, Topper folded within seconds. Both Rafe and Sky knew that she had everyone on the island wrapped around her dainty perfectly manicured finger.

The Thornton house was crowded with kook party goers, music blaring throughout every room. The liquor was overflowing and the drugs at anyone's disposal. It was your typical kook party. Sweaty and dancing bodies everywhere, people hooking up wherever the fuck they pleased.

Sky was currently perched on Rafe's lap, curled up against her boyfriend as he made his usual drug deals, white powdery lines scattered across the glass table in front of them. She was dressed in her usual attire, wearing a white babydoll dress that Rafe bought her that morning, adorned with thigh high stockings with pink bows at the top, knowing how much her boyfriend loved when she wore those damn stockings. Her hair was worn down that night, small pink and white glittery flowers throughout. It was no secret that Sky was the hottest girl at the party. Hell, she was the hottest girl on the island, but everyone knew she belonged to Rafe, meaning she was off limits.

"I'm telling you man, this yayo is top of the line shit. Best you'll ever have. We just got a new shipment, cut straight from Columbia. You won't find this shit anywhere else on the island, yeah?" The Cameron male said to the group of kooks surrounding them, each one reaching for their wads of cash.

Rafe possessively squeezed her bowtie stocking clad thigh, not liking the way that Chad was eying his girl. His jaw tightened, eyes immediately darkening. The squeeze he had on Sky's thigh was so tight that it was sure to leave bruises.

"Yo, man. Ain't you afraid of corrupting little miss innocent with this shit, Rafe? I mean, has she even seen this shit in person before?" Asked Chad, your typical frat kook.

Chad might have been too stupid to realize but Rafe couldn't stand the asshole, his eyes always on Sky. The Cameron boy wanted nothing more than to slam Chad's head through the glass table, but this was business, so Rafe tried his damnedest to remain professional, not wanting to lose out on a deal.

"You do realize who the fuck she belongs to, yeah? Baby Girl here might be innocent, but that don't mean she's fucking stupid. How 'bout you worry 'bout your fuckin' self and let me worry about my girl, yeah? Yeah."

Sky felt her boyfriend tense up, knowing that he had one thing on his mind. Murder.... and Chad was tonight's victim.

"Not yet, Rafey. His time will come later." Sky purred in his ear, making the blonde nod. No one had ever been able to keep Rafe under control, except his Skylar.

Getting back into business mode, Rafe let out a dark laugh, playfully smacking his girlfriend's thigh as he looked from her to Chad.

"Shit, she might be innocent but you best believe my girl here knows all the ends and outs of this shit. Who the fuck you think packages everything and cuts the shit up so perfectly? You're looking at my business partner, man. I taught her everything she knows.Y'gonna buy some or just eye fuck my angel, huh?"

Chad's eyes immediately widened and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, quickly peeling his eyes away from Sky as she giggled into Rafe's neck. He might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he knew not to piss off Rafe Cameron, especially when it came to his girl, no matter how badly Chad wished he could fuck Sky.

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, give me 3 G's worth, man. I-I wasn't eye fucking your girl, Rafe, I wouldn't do that. Everyone knows that Skylar belongs to you. I... I wouldn't do that, man."

Rafe snorted, knowing damn well he knew what he saw. Still, he reached for a stack of little baggies that were filled with the white substance. Before he handed the merchandise to Chad, Sky held out a dainty hand, motioning for Chad to place the money in it. He hesitantly looked from her to Rafe, earning a nod of approval from the Cameron male. Once the cash was in her hand, Skylar quickly counted it.

"It's all there, Rafey. Give Chad his goodies so that he can be on his way. Even though I know Chaddy here could have at least bought 5 G's Worth, but he chose the cheap route this time. Oh well." Skylar hummed, shrugging her shoulders as she placed the wad of cash in her little pink bunny shaped backpack that Rafe had bought for her. While Rafe handled dealing the cocaine, she handled the money. The pair being the perfect business partners.

Rafe threw the stack of baggies tied around a pink rubberband (Skylar's doing, of course) at Chad, giving him a death stare.

Rafe then turned his attention to his girlfriend, trailing kisses from under her earlobe and down her neck as he whispered. "Daddy needs his fix, angel. Gon' let me do some lines off those perfect tits, yeah?"

"Here's your shit. Now fucking scram." Rafe spat, shooing Chad away with his hand.

It was almost like a scene from a comedy movie, the way that Chad hurriedly stood, practically tripping over his own two feet, mumbling about how sorry he was and how he didn't mean to disrespect Rafe or his girl. It took everything in the Rose girl to not burst out in giggles.

Her giggles filled the air, Rafe barely able to hear them over the booming music, but not even the music could drown out Rafe hearing those angelic giggles. She bit down on her bottom lip, whimpering at how his mouth felt against her soft skin. Being the possessive man that he was, Rafe made sure to leave marks along her neck, marking what belonged to him.

"Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets."

"Atta girl. S'good for Daddy. Gon' have to reward you later, hmm?" He whispered, his hand trailing further up her thigh, earning a small moan from her.

Sky reached into Rafe's pocket, pulling out a small baggie filled with white powder. Leaning back against the arm of the overly expensive couch, she began to sprinkle lines of the white substance on her cleavage, involuntarily squeezing her thighs together when Rafe let out a low groan. He leaned his face in closer, lining his nostrils up perfectly with the two white lines before snorting one, followed by the second. He then ran his tongue slowly over each breast, cleaning off whatever remained of the white powder. Of course, he had to give those perfect a few nips.

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Hours later as the party began to die down, the couple decided it was time to put their plan in motion. Both of them coked out of their minds, not to mention the mixture of alcohol and other substances. They had their ways of making sure nobody ever saw Sky snort white lines up her nostrils. She had a reputation to uphold being innocent after all. Thank God that Sky knew how to fool everyone, making them think that she was just tipsy from the half empty bottle of beer that Rafe handed her, not knowing that it was actually a mixture of different types of alcohol.

She made her way through the house, drink in hand as she searched for their victim, humming along to the music as she flashed her million dollar smile at everyone. When she spotted Chad, she put on her innocent act, strolling over to him as her tits bounced, barely contained by the thin material of her dress, ass peaking out from under. Before even approaching Chad, she knew that he was putty in her hand.

"Chad! There you are. I've been looking all over for you. I wanted you to try this new drink mixture I made and tell me what you think. Also my way of apologizing for Rafey's behavior. He tends to get a tad bit overprotective of me." Her voice came out sweet, so innocent sounding. Little did poor Chad know, the drink in her hand had a few extra ingredients, courtesy of Barry.

"Oh, uh, hey Sky. Where's, uh... Where's Rafe. He know you were coming to talk to me?" Chad asked nervously, looking around for any signs of Rafe. When he didn't see the Cameron male, he instantly smirked, not even trying to hide the fact that he was checking her out.

She giggled sweetly, adding on the charm as she flashed her million dollar smile once again, perfectly straight pearly whites on display along with her deep dimples. She twirled a strand of hair around her dainty finger.

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"Relax, Chaddy. I told Rafey that I was going to look for you. He's busy finishing up his last deals for the night. I just want you to try my new mix, not like I'm asking you to take me upstairs to an empty bedroom."

"Yeah, yeah of course I'll try it, sweetheart."

Got him, Sky thought to herself. This was just too damn easy.

"Fuck, Chad here is a lot heavier than I expected, baby. I swear, if he makes me break a nail or even chip my nail polish, 'm gonna go after his whole fucking family." Sky huffed as her and Rafe dragged Chad's unconscious body out of the bed of Rafe's truck.

"Baby Girl, Daddy already told you that you don't have to do any of the heavy lifting. That's what y'got me for, yeah?"

She immediately scrunched up her face, shaking her head from side to side with a strained huff.

"m'not letting.. you do all the.. heavy lifting yourself, Daddy. Whatcha take me for, some sort of weak bitch? Huh? Is that it? Cause 'm not weak, Rafey."

Rafe let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head as he smirked. She was a fiery one and he loved it.

"Shh, shh. Not what I'm saying at all, Baby Girl. I know that you're strong. Y'just got your nails done this morning and Daddy just doesn't want you fuckin' 'em up... 'specially 'fore you get the chance to wrap them 'round my cock. That's all." Rafe reassured her. "This should be good. Drop him here, angel."

Skylar didn't need to be told twice, she dropped Chad's unconscious body, shrugging as she heard a loud thud from his body hitting the concrete floor of the abandoned building. She immediately began inspecting her nails, making sure there were no chips. When she found no damage done to her nails, she looked up at Rafe with a huge grin, holding up both hands for him to see.

"Look, Daddy. No damage done." She beamed, before her face scrunched up in a cute little pout. "Too bad they'll be covered in blood soon. Oh well." She shrugged. "Least I know how to get 'em clean."

Rafe chuckled, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush against his toned and muscular body, running his hands down her back and cupping her ass. He leaned his face in to kiss along her jaw, before capturing her lips.

"Yeah, well, just know I plan on fucking you before we get cleaned up. You know what Y'do to Daddy when you're covered in blood." He purred in her ear, making her whimper.

"Daddy! Now 'm wet." Sky whined, making the Cameron boy chuckle.

"What's new, Baby Girl? You get wet just think' 'bout me. Don't worry your pretty little self, Daddy will take good care of you... After we're done with Chad."

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Straddling Chad's lap, Skylar ran the cold blade across his jawline, pouting that he still wasn't awake. Reaching back her other hand, she slapped Chad hard in the face, the sound bouncing off the empty walls of the abandoned building.

"Chad, time to wake up. I wanna play. Won't you play with me?" She whined, grinning like a maniac as the male groaned.

Chad's eyes slowly fluttered open, his head pounding as he tried to regain his focus. Not recognizing his surroundings, his eyes widened when he saw Skylar in his lap, knife pressed against his throat. Sure enough, Rafe was standing a few feet behind her, looking like a true psychopath.

"W-what the fuck did you put in my drink you crazy bitch!? Get the fuck off me! You're both fucking psychopaths!"

"You know, Chad... You should never call a psychopath a psychopath... Makes them angry. I don't think you want to make us angry, now do you!?" Skylar pressed the sharp end of the blade deeper against his neck, breaking the skin. She grinned as she watched the crimson liquid trickle down his throat.

"Look, I didn't do shit. Just let me go. I-I promise I won't tell anyone. I swear, man. Just let me go."

Rafe clicked his tongue, stalking over closer to where Chad was tied to the chair.

"Can't do that, man. You crossed a line tonight. Eying my girl like a pussy starved virgin. Ya pussy starved, Chad, huh? That it? Well guess what?" Rafe asked, reaching a hand out to cup Skylar's pussy under her flowy white dress. "This pussy, yeah, this pussy belongs to me. Even has MY name carved into her thigh. You fucked up, man, and now Y'gotta pay the price. Them's the rules, yeah?"

"Rafe, you got it all wrong, man.. I... I was-"

Chad was immediately cut off by Skylar slicing open his throat, pouting as the crimson liquid squirted all over her white dress.

"He talked too much. Made me bored." She shrugged. "Great!" She plunged the knife into his chest, ignoring his gurgled cries and pleas as he choked on his own blood. "You!" STAB. "Ruined!" STAB. "My!" STAB. "Favorite!" STAB. "Fucking" STAB. "Dress!" With one last stab to Chad's abdomen, she trailed the embedded blade down his stomach, ripping him open in two as his insides pooled out of him.

Rafe's cock was painfully hard, pressing against his jeans as he watched his girlfriend take Chad's life. It wasn't how they planned it, but he always let his Baby Girl do as she pleased. As much as Rafe wanted to be the one to kill that fucking douchebag, he couldn't deny how fucking hot his girl looked.

"You can stop now, angel. Chad's no longer with us. Pity that there wasn't much torture. M'proud of you though. You did so good, Baby Girl. Get that sweet ass over here and let Daddy reward you."

"M'kay, Daddy." Sky hummed, climbing off Chad's lifeless lap. Her once white dress now drenched in the frat boy's blood.

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Rafe teased Skylar, running his red tip over her slick folds, his precum mixing with her slickness. He groaned at the sight of her pretty glistening pussy, the most perfect pussy that he'd ever seen. The blonde was obsessed, willingly admitting to her that he was pussy whipped.

"Rafey, stop teasing!" She whimpered, already writhing beneath him just from his tip gliding along her slick folds.

"Gotta admire the view before I destroy that pretty pussy, yeah? So soaked f'me already, Baby Girl and I've barely touched you. Sucha fucking slut for Daddy's cock, yeah? Yeah, you are. Got you practically coming undone and I haven't even fucked you yet."

"Rafe, I swear if you don't fuck me right no-"

"You'll what? Hmm? You ain't gonna do shit, Baby Girl. I fucking own this pussy and if I want to take my time, I will, yeah? But, since you did so good tonight I won't make you beg."

With that, he slammed his cock deep inside her, not even giving her time to adjust to his size before his hips thrust roughly, slamming in and out of her tight hole. He practically came at the loud moans that rolled off her tongue.

Sky gasped when she felt a cold metal against her abdomen as Rafe slammed his cock deep inside her sopping cunt. She grinned knowing that the cold metal was her knife. It wasn't the first time that the couple did knife play, or even gun play at that. When it came to sexual situations, there wasn't much that was off limits for the pair.

Rafe snaked an arm around to grab her by the throat, squeezing hard as he yanked her head back, wanting to see her face as she came undone. Her once bright doe eyes were as dark as his.

"Hold still for me, Baby Girl, yeah?" Rafe groaned, eyes rolling back from how perfectly her pussy wrapped around his big cock. "Wouldn' want to nick that flawless skin."

Rafe took the blade in his hand, running it along her inner thigh. He felt her walls tighten around him, practically milking him. She obeyed him, trying to stay as still as possible, even though it was almost impossible the way Rafe was roughly thrusting in and out of her.

"Fuck, you gonna cum already? Sucha fucking dirty whore, gettin' off on my cock and having a fucking knife against your skin. Cum for Daddy, wan' you to soak my cock, Baby Girl."

"Mhm, 'm gonna cum daddy." Sky whimpered, feeling the familiar tightness in her stomach.

She threw her head back against Rafe's bare and sweaty chest, mumbling a few curse words as she came undone. Rafe supported her body with one strong hand, pounding into her soaked pussy harder, each thrust more sloppy than the last, letting her know that he was also close.

"Fuck!... Rafe!"

Sky screamed out his name in the most pleasurable way as she came, soaking Rafe's cock. Rafe was right behind her, moaning her name as he emptied his load deep inside her pussy, painting her walls white.

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It had been well over two weeks since the couple brutally murdered Chad. Missing posters were posted all over the island with Chad's picture. Sky and Rafe had even joined the search party for the frat boy, knowing damn well nobody would find him. After chopping his body up, the couple fed him to the gators. Still, they had to make sure they came off just as concerned as the rest of the island.

The couple were sat at a table at The Wreck, eating their lunch when a breaking news alert appeared on the TV. Both their heads snapped to the screen, listening closely to the news report.

"Residents of Kildare County, we come to you with breaking news. What you're about to hear and see might not be suitable for everyone. Kildare County Sheriff's department was called out this morning when a hiker in the woods came across a severed hand. After further investigation it was discovered that the hand belonged to missing teenager, Chad Smith. We take you now to a special report from Sheriff Shoupe."

"The Sheriff's department received a call this morning from a caller who wishes to remain anonymous. After arriving on scene, Deputy Plumb and myself took the severed hand to evidence. After running the hand for prints it was discovered that it belonged to Chad Smith. Deputies searched the area in hopes of finding a body, but came up empty handed. Without knowing how long Chad's body was out there, we're assuming that the gators got to him before we did. As of now we don't have any suspects and don't expect foul play to be at hand. According to our reports, Chad was last seen leaving a house party and was heavily under the influence of drugs and alcohol. Our best guess is that he passed out and maybe hit his head. If anyone has any information, we ask that you please contact the Sheriff's department. We'll update you with any new information we come across. As of now, we're ruling out homicide. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Chad's family and friends. A vigil will be held this Friday evening on the beach. Thank you."

Rafe and Sky peeled their eyes off the screen, immediately looking at each other with proud grins. Little did everyone know, the couple planted the hand, knowing that someone would soon come across it. There was no way that Chad's murder could be pinned on either of them, the pair too smart to leave behind any evidence.

Sky gave Rafe a faux pout, sticking out her bottom lip.

"Poor Chad. Who would do a thing like that? It's so, so sad." She hummed, running a finger down her cheek as a faux tear.

Rafe grinned as he let out a low chuckle, reaching over the table to take Sky's hand in his, absentmindedly drawing shapes on the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Mhm, real sad. Eat your food, Baby Girl. Gon' need your strength for tonight. Got something special planned."

Sky perked up, looking at her boyfriend with a bright smile, but only Rafe knew the darkness behind that innocent smile. Leaning across the table, she whispered.

"Please tell me that it's finally Sophia's turn. Can't stand seeing her check you out anymore, Daddy. You're mine."

Rafe chuckled, nodding his head as he brought their hands to his lips, peppering the back of hers with kisses.

"Mhm. Daddy's gon' let you play with that bitch tonight. Let her know who the fuck I belong to."

"Yay! Thank you, Daddy. I love you, Rafey."

"I love you too, Baby Girl. More than anything."

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #psychotic!rafe #dark!reader #not so innocent

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sempersirens · 2 years ago

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a bird in your teeth, II

masterlist

summary: a night out with a friend has you reaching out for joel

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. no smut (yet). allusion to SA (nothing happens)

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for the love on part one! i know there is not much joel yet, but fear not, this will be rectified fruitfully in part three <3

word count: 2.6k

After leaving Joel's place, you ran across the street to change for your night out. As usual, you turned your porch light off to indicate to Joel that you had gotten home safely, a small tradition you had kept since you first started babysitting Sarah late at night. Sometimes you would linger by the front door to watch Joel appear at his window, confirming your safe return. Whenever you caught him looking, you would wave, and he would return a small salute. That tiny movement of his hand would replay on loop all night.

Tonight, you didn't have time to stay and check, but felt that familiar feeling of the hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention as you passed your living room window. You had promised your closest friend Daisy that you would head into the city with her tonight, despite it being a Thursday and you both having ungodly early morning commitments.

When it came to Daisy, you could never say no. She had these all-devouring doe eyes and a sweet Southern belle twang that only came out when she wanted something. This time, she wanted to "accidentally" bump into a guy on her course she knew would be out. Aside from Joel and Sarah, your move to Texas would have been nothing without befriending Daisy in a bar toilet. Both a couple of drinks deep at the time, she had complimented your handbag and henceforth ignited a friendship closer to sisterhood. What kind of friend would you be to turn her down in her hour of need?

Quickly changing out of your comfy chick-flick-watching and popcorn-eating attire into something revealing a little more skin, you let your hair down from your claw clip and gave it a once over with a brush. You pulled on your rite of passage cowboy boots, already sensing the shriek that would erupt from Daisy's core when she saw the fringed boots paired with your little denim mini skirt. Another thing you loved about her was how similar she was to girls back home; a true girl's girl through and through. You had spent countless late nights on one another's front porches with a bottle (or two) of wine, philosophizing over the smallest and largest dilemmas all twenty-something women toss and turn over. The future, becoming mothers some day, not becoming mothers, the next episode of The O.C., careers, husbands, whether you’d ever grow to like the taste of red wine.

A car horn beeped once outside prompting you to grab your handbag and skip out the door to the passenger's side.

"Oh, honey. Let's have a moment for the boots! Y'ready to bring this city to its knees?" Daisy giggled as you jumped in.

"Baby, you know I always am,” you chirped in your bordering offensive attempt at a Southern drawl. “So, what's this guy's name again?"

"Mark. Fancy, huh? He's in my lab group. Sometimes when we're measuring out cobalt chloride hexahydrate I look at his big strong hands and think good grief man would'ya just take me on the work bench?"

"You're preaching to the choir here, sister." You laugh. Only Daisy could say the most academic and intelligent thing in one breath to then utter some unhinged depravity in the next.

"Soooo," she longed out, taking turns looking at you and then the road and then back at you again.

"Dais, don't even-"

"How's Mr. Miller?"

You throw your head back in the same manner Sarah used to when you first knew her; when Joel would tell her to get ready for bed so that he could break open a bottle of whiskey after a long evening of barbecuing.

"He's fine, as he always is when you ask."

"Sureee. He not tried the I don't have any cash on me to pay you for looking after my kid... but I could pay you another way yet?"

"It's so not like that and you know it. Plus I don't ask him to pay me to babysit Sarah." You muttered the last part, slightly embarrassed to admit that you spent so much time with the Millers purely out of enjoyment.

"What! You're always at their damn place watching his kid while he fucks some recently divorced suburban mom."

"You think he fucks them?" You ask, with a little too much rawness to your tone.

"Oh honey, this ain't good for you. You're smitten for the bastard."

"Can we talk about something else? This is making me depressed." You forced a laugh at the patheticness of your situation. More often than not, you had to sternly remind yourself that Joel was a divorced, single father, ten years your senior, who certainly didn't share your pining for him. He had responsibilities; he was too busy to deal with your little crush, being a father and all. You told yourself it was just you projecting onto him. Probably something with a Freudian explanation.

"Alright, alright. Let's talk about Mark's friend Elijah who I am certain is out with him tonight and would eat up the whole Kate Moss meets Minnie Driver thing y'have goin' on here."

"You're just referencing the only two British women you know other than me. Anyway, he better be handsome. You always stick me with the reject friend."

"Am not and do not!" Daisy laughed, shoving your shoulder as she pulled into the bar parking lot. "I'm leaving the car here overnight, wanna have a good couple drinks. You good to get a cab back to yours later?"

"Sure thing." You said.

"Who knows, we might even get lucky." Daisy winked at you, making her way toward the entrance, a sultry but sweet swing in her hips that only she could make look so effortless.

---

Elijah wasn't exactly your type. So, you decided to keep drinking until he somewhat was.

"You're not from round here, are ya?" He asked.

You widened your eyes in mock surprise at his intellectual summation. "What gave it away?" You said dryly, not really caring for an answer. It took moving out of England to realize alcohol simply made you more British. Or a sarcastic bitch, as some had put it.

"That accent for starters. Australia home for you, sweetness?"

It was going to be a long night.

"How did you guess!" You replied, slightly repelled by the misplaced enthusiasm plastered across his face.

"Well, myself I've never been to Australia, but I sure know my way 'round down under."

You half-choked on your sip of rum and coke, which Elijah seemed to take as a win.

"Dear Lord. That's really, um, something! I need to nip to the loo. Be back in a sec." You grabbed your bag and made for the bathroom, which was temptingly close to the back exit. Weighing up your options, you decided that you couldn't leave Daisy alone with two men in the middle of the city and settled with the bathroom.

Right on cue, she bustled in behind you shrieking your name.

"For a second there I thought you were gonna leave me all by my lonesome." She shouted over the bathroom stall.

"For a second there, so did I."

"Oh come on, he's not that bad."

You flushed the toilet and flung the door open to her standing nose-to-nose with the door.

"A Soviet gulag wouldn't be that bad compared to him." You retorted, moving to wash your hands. "He's a pig! He felt up my arse twice before we even sat down."

"Okay, so - he's handsy! You haven't been gettin' much action recently, anyway. Take it as a compliment?" You turned to give Daisy a look you knew she would choose to ignore. "Please, honey. They're having a little get-together back at their apartment and I would feel so much better if you came along. It's by campus, so you don't even need to worry about missin' class tomorrow."

Once again, you felt like channeling pre-teen Sarah, fighting the urge to stomp your feet at Daisy's request. As per usual, her big pleading eyes wore down your defenses. It was so obvious she was the youngest child in her family sometimes.

"Fine. But you owe me." She squealed at your response, hugging you and kicking one knee in the air.

"Anythin', honey. A lung, even! Mark has ordered an Uber and promised there's plenty'a liquor at his place. Let's go!"

You rolled your eyes realizing the Uber had been booked before the two of you had discussed your plans.

As you walked towards the boys, who sat with their jackets already on and big grins spread across their stupid faces, your mind wandered to Joel. You wondered if he had ever brought one of his dates to a bar like this. Maybe he had taken their jacket, hung it on the coat rack, and returned to her to ask so, what you drinkin'? He would wave his hand when she offered to pay for a round or if she reached for her purse. You wondered if he ever tried his luck, touching a knee against hers underneath the table. Whether he leaned in for a kiss, or put a hand on her thigh in the cab home.

You wondered if Joel ever noticed the way your breathing sped up when he put an arm around you after a couple of drinks, or how you would blush when he paid you the odd compliment. Did he ever notice the extra skin on show when the Texas heat made dressing semi-modestly for babysitting duties impossible? Or when you would lounge around the back garden in your bikini with Sarah? Did he catch a glimpse of you in skimpy outfits and heels running from your front door to various cars or cabs, or when you would sneak back at 6am on Sunday mornings clutching the heels? The dynamic between you and Joel felt so stilted sometimes. At times, it felt as though he was holding a part of himself back. Like he was always on the cusp of telling you something, but simultaneously fighting a battle between his tongue and his head to divulge any piece of himself to you.

But other times, he didn't. Since he'd first reached out that Friday at your front door, he had never failed to be there for you. When it was the flu or homesickness, Joel was there. Last summer, you had been especially missing your grandmother's homemade tiramisu, so had scoured the local bookstores for a Nigella Lawson recipe book and made you one with Sarah. The lady finger biscuits were so soggy they had disintegrated and the taste of amaretto was too much for even you, but you cried when he brought it over, the dish covered in a bumblebee dish towel. In the colder weather, he had fixed your boiler and defrosted your pipes. And whenever he passed a fresh produce store, he would bring you figs and watermelons to remind you of your summers in Europe. When you were in the thick of writing your thesis, Joel brought you a plate of whatever he and Sarah were having for dinner, knowing fully well that you would neglect your own dinnertime to meet deadlines. Joel didn't need to thank you for helping him out with Sarah, or whatever he had meant earlier, he was always thanking you in his own little way.

"Uber's here!" Mark's exclamation brought you out of your haze. You felt a hand on your lower back, Elijah was guiding you out of the bar not-so-courteously. You couldn't help but sigh at the disparity between your daydreams about Joel and the reality of your so-called love life.

"I'm not that drunk." You muttered under your breath, hoping you were loud enough for him to get the hint. If he did hear, he didn't act upon it.

Bundling into the car, Mark sat in the front seat, and you between Daisy and Elijah.

"D'ya like her boots, Elijah?" Daisy asked sweetly, leaning across you.

"They're real nice. Would look much nicer on my floor though." Daisy squeezed your thigh as if to say don't say a word.

"They'll look even better flying towards your head." You retorted, ignoring her.

"Oh, don't mind her! She's got that famous British sense of humor."

"Well, lucky she's so damn pretty, ain't it?" Elijah responded, making your stomach turn slightly at his unrelenting forwardness.

Mark announced that you had arrived, and everyone spilled out of the car in a stupor. You were drunker than you thought.

Between Elijah lingering around you like a bad smell, Daisy and Mark feeling each other up on the sofa, and the ever-looming presence of your 9am, you decided to call it a night a little over an hour into the impromptu after-party.

"Feel free to crash in my flatmate's room rather than pay for a cab home." Mark offered. "Think I'm gonna call it a night too, kinda tired myself."

"Oh, yes! You should stay, she has class early in the morning so it only makes sense." Daisy chimed in, clinging to Mark's arm. You could only assume she also planned on staying the night, but didn't have time to answer before Mark spoke again.

"Well then, it's settled. Down the hall and first door on your left. Make yourself at home."

You were too exhausted to argue, so made your way per Mark's instructions, ignoring Elijah's puppy dog look at you leaving him high and dry. You kicked off your boots but clambered underneath the duvet with your clothes still on. The walk of shame to class tomorrow will be just great, you thought. Popping two co-codomal tablets out of your bag, you swallowed them with a glass of water from the nightstand, entirely uncaring of how long it had been sat there. You needed all the help you could get for some proper rest on the hard mattress and single, flat pillow.

The apartment fell silent soon after, aside from a few recognizable giggles and the unmistakable slam of a bedroom door. Pills finally beginning to take effect, you had started to doze off with little resistance until the bedroom door creaked open.

"Daisy?" You muttered groggily, rubbing your eyes to make out the figuring closing the door behind them. "Is everything okay?"

"It's me." The unexpected masculine voice made you lurch into a seated position, recognizing it as Elijah in the dimly lit room.

"I thought you went home." You spoke, trying to sound braver than you were feeling as the mattress dipped with his weight.

"How could I, when I knew you were in here waiting for me." Your muscles froze.

"Look - I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm sorry, I really need to get up early. I didn't mean to lead you o..."

You were cut off by his lips clashing against yours, cutting your upper lip against your front teeth. His arms were leaning on either side of you, caging you in his embrace as your cries for him to stop went muffled and unheard. Elijah's weight shifted, moving his body on top of yours, trapping you entirely underneath him. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Even if you wanted to try to push him off, your body had gone utterly lifeless in panic.

"You'll like it, sweetheart. Don't be so damn uptight." You felt sick. Your skirt was around your hips from the struggle between his body and the mattress, you were separated from him by only your panties.

He reached his hand down to palm himself through his jeans, which thanks to his undignified alcohol consumption throughout the night, was to no avail. Growing frustrated with his body's lack of cooperation, his weight on you relaxed and you took your chance to tumble out from under him.

"Where the hell are you going?" You grabbed your handbag in a haze and darted out of the door, his shouts after you growing quieter by the second.

As soon as you were out of the building, you rested your hands on your knees and emptied your stomach onto the pavement. You dreaded to think what you looked like; skirt hitched high up your thighs, no doubt mascara pouring down your cheeks, face inches away from your own vomit. You also didn't care. Silent sobs racked through your body as you tried to guide your trembling hands through your handbag to retrieve your phone. Messily scrolling down your contact list, your heart stopped at the letter J. It was the early hours of the morning, but you knew he kept his phone on during the night in case Tommy ever needed bail money.

"Hello?" His gruff voice had never sounded so sweet, the instantaneous relief that washed over your body almost brought you to your knees.

"Joel, I-I'm so sorry to call so late. It's me. Something... something's happened."

"Where are you?"

You stumbled to the nearest main road, searching for street signs. The sun was beginning to rise. You thought you might be sick again.

"West 22nd and Guadalupe." You touched a finger tentatively to your lip, not realising it had been pumping blood down your chin and onto your chest.

"You stay there, I'll be there in 15."

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