#welcome to paradise on earth / outer banks

[atsevenseas]

tag drop — general

[perlelune]

All Too Well | Rafe Cameron

A tragedy in your family forces you to return to the one place you fled from years ago. Your hometown of Outer Banks.

Warnings: NON-CON, Mom Reader, Pogue! Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Blackmail, Threats, Child Abduction, Gun Use

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You sigh as you pass the familiar town sign. Welcome to the Outer Banks. Paradise on earth.

Right, paradise on earth. Until it became hell for you.

You let your gaze wander across the coastline, soaking in the crashing waves and glittering sand. The fresh sea breeze whisks inside the car, its soft, familiar flutter over your face bringing bittersweet memories alongside it. As you take in your surroundings, you’re struck with the realization of how little has changed over the years. Same houses. Same trees. And perhaps, you ponder wistfully, even the same people…

A mix of confusing emotion flows through you at that prospect.

Most of your life was spent here, precious memories having taken place on that very beach you just passed. Lazy days hanging out with your friends, doing whatever it is you wished. Hanging out, goofing off, getting high and enjoying endless summers.

Before mesmerizing blue eyes found yours at a beach party. It’s when your downward spiral began. How sweetly things started. How sourly they turned.

You can still feel the ghost sensation of his fingers around your neck, pressing until you could hardly breathe. Yet another fit of anger. Brushed off like so many until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

Eventually you grew tired of the whirlwind of emotions, of how he always had an excuse, some sort of twisted justification for his horrible actions. How somehow nothing was ever his fault. But yours. Always yours.

And once you found out that you had more than your own well-being to worry about…the decision was made for you. Of course, you needed to run like hell and never look back. It wasn’t just about you anymore. You had someone else to protect, from his mood swings and temper, but most importantly…from becoming just like him.

A heavy breath drops from your mouth as you clutch the steering wheel. The unpleasant flashes are chased away with a sharp shake of your head. You steady your rising pulse. You promised yourself not to not sink into that hole again. That hopeless, desolate place where you’re trapped in the dark and no one can hear you screaming. You’re stronger now. He can’t hurt you anymore.

This was four years ago. All that stuff is in the past. Buried and forgotten. Thankfully.

Your son’s hitch-pitched voice tugs your focus from the backseat.

“Can we go to the beach, mom?” he says, bouncing in excitement. “Please, please, please.”

You swipe a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Here he is. Your entire life, on the cusp of throwing a tantrum in the backseat of your car. Your three year-old son, Parker.

Your focus shifts back to the road.

“We have to go visit some friends first, sweetie.”

“Okay…” he pouts dejectedly.

“Once we’re settled in, we can go.”

He beams at that. A smile creeps upon your lips. While raising Parker on your own has been a challenge, you wouldn't change a thing. Seeing his bright, gummy smile everyday makes it all worth it.

You make a few more turns before finally reaching your destination. You soak in the striking sight of the house as you climb out of your car. It’s a lot bigger and nicer than the ones surrounding it, an uncanny sight in the Cut. It still surprises you that JJ didn’t move to Figure Eight. With his flourishing boat renting business, he can basically do anything he wants now. And you know he’d likely get a kick out of pissing off the 

Kooks by moving to their side of the island. So you’re a bit shocked that he chose to keep roots there. 

You suppose, in the end, he will always be a Pogue at heart. 

You pick up your son from the back seat. A yawn escapes from his mouth before he wraps his arms around your neck and begins to doze off. You can’t blame him. This was his longest trip since he was born. He clings to you as you make your way to the front door. 

The door opens, a familiar blond welcoming you with a bright smile.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he drawls. 

“Are you sure it’s okay if we stay? We can go to a motel.”

JJ huffs his disapproval before ushering you inside. 

“Nonsense. Why stay in a motel when we have plenty of room here?”

Your eyes dart about the place. It’s clean and though the decor screams ‘bachelor’, homey vibes ooze from the space. Memorabilia from JJ’s travels are littered across the shelves as well as pictures of him and the Pogues beneath his surfing board. Melancholy hits you again. You’ve missed so much.

You shoot him a teasing grin.

“Plenty of room, huh? Sounds like someone’s gone full Kook.”

JJ rolls his eyes at your playful taunt. “Do you have any bags?” he asks.

“In the trunk,” you reply, handing him your keys. “I didn’t pack much since we won’t be staying long.”

He takes your keys, concern flashing in his blue eyes. “Which I still don’t get. I could kick his ass for you, so you don’t have to leave again.”

“It’s fine, JJ. Parker and I have a great life in Florida. I just got promoted. I’m saving up so we can move to a bigger place in a few months. Things are good. Really good.”

“I still think you should be here with us.” You supply no answer as he strolls to your car to get your things. You know JJ would tussle with him if you let him, has tried to in the past. He’s your best friend and has always been overly protective of you. It’s exactly why you need to leave once everything is handled. You refuse to let him get tangled up in your mess. It was never his to fix. 

You pad further inside JJ’s home. Astonishment flutters through you as you find another familiar face by the kitchen counter. 

Her long blonde mane swings at her back as she rushes to you. 

“Is that my nephew?” she whispers in an attempt not to wake up your toddler.

“Sarah,” you greet cheerfully.

She bends to get a better look at him. Her expression lights up.

“He’s gotten so big since the last time.”

The sound of Sarah’s voice tears Parker from his slumber.

He rubs his eyes, a broad grin appearing on his little face when he recognizes her.

“Auntie Sarah…”

“Hey buddy,” she chimes.

He jumps into her arms and the two of them giggle as she hugs him.

“I wish I could visit more often,” she says.

You nod in agreement. Sarah used to visit the two of you in Florida on a semi-regular basis, but she had to stop once a certain somebody became a bit too curious about the impromptu trips she was taking several times a year.

“Me too, but we both know it’s not possible.”

The two of you share a knowing look.

JJ reappears with your two bags in his hands.

“Shall I show you and your offspring to your chambers, m’lady?” he says, mimicking a horrible British accent. 

You shake your head at his antics. Though you’d never admit it aloud, you kind of missed them. A lot.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 

He flashes you a broad grin.

“Hm, I think the word you’re looking for is wickedly handsome.”

“That is more than one word,” you deadpan.

He shrugs. “Just handsome then.”

You sigh as you follow him upstairs. Pleasant surprise courses through you at what you witness when he opens the door to the guest room. 

The interior is warm and welcoming. The blankets have rockets, moons and stars on them. There’s even a nightlight and a few toys lying in a corner. It’s a lot more than you expected and a swell of emotions mounts inside you at the sight. 

“You just had to go overboard, huh?”

His shoulders heave and fall in nonchalance.

“Only the best for my best girl.”

You plop down on the bed, drinking in the animal paintings on the walls. 

“Did you paint that yourself?”

He sits next to you, leaning back in a relaxed stance.

“I did. Mostly. Though Sarah, Kie and the others insisted on helping.”

“You know we’re not staying.”

He studies you, a small smile tugging his lips.

“A guy can hope.” JJ licks his lips, fingers dragging over the colorful blanket. “I just want you to know you have a home here if you ever decide to come back.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Blue eyes lock with yours, silence stretching between the two of you before he speaks again. 

“I really missed you.”

“Me too,” you say. “Are you and Kie still…?”

“We broke it off a few years ago.”

Your eyes round. They seemed so into each other at the time. Though you surmise, people can change over the years. You aren’t teenagers anymore after all.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. We’re better off as friends,” he states casually. He holds your gaze and smiles. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Alright Master Yoda, when did you get so wise?” you quip.

He joins his hands, his expression solemn.

“A stupid kid, I am not anymore.” You laugh and his smile widens. “Believe it or not.” He pauses, appearing lost in thought. He then offers, “You should come to the Bonfire celebration tonight.”

“I don’t know…”

Your brows knit. You returned out of necessity. Hanging out isn’t exactly at the top of your list of priorities. 

JJ gives your shoulder a light shove.

“Come on. It’s at the Boneyard, just like old times.” His expression turns serious. “Everyone’s really missed you. It’s not the same without you around.”

He gets to his feet. Your stomach knots when he retrieves an urn from under the night table and hands it to you.

Your chest tightens.

“Are those her…”

“Yeah. Her last wish was to be at sea. Maybe you could do it tonight?”

Your fingers press firmly around the curved edges of the urn, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I should have been there, JJ,” you mumble.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But if I-”

“No, you can’t blame yourself for every little thing. I won’t let you.” Noting your trembling fingers, he takes the urn from you, placing it over the night table. He cradles your face and wipes the tears spilling down your face. “She knows how much you loved her. That's all that matters.” He wraps his arms around you and you sink into his embrace, soaking his familiar sea-salt smell. It’s somehow barely changed since you last saw him. “It was an accident. No one could have done anything. Especially not you.”

You sniffle, swallowing a fresh surge of tears. You may not have been close to your sister, but you still resent that you couldn’t be together before she passed. She barely got to know her own nephew. 

She deserved a lot more from you. A lot more that you weren’t able to give, which you hate yourself for.

You just couldn’t risk it. Not when one look at him would suffice for most people to guess who Parker’s father is. Starting with those piercing blue eyes. The same as his father’s. 

Accidents are accidents. But you can’t help but wonder if being with her would have made a difference. No one even really knows what happened. Just that she was in her house - you parents’ house - and fell. Then she stopped breathing. By the time she was rushed to the hospital it was too late.

Your sister was gone. Ally is gone.

A harsh truth your mind is still wrangling with.

“I don’t know if I can come. Parker’s still so small-”

“I’ll watch him.”

Your head snaps up. You find Sarah in the doorway, your son in her arms. As soon as he enters the room, the little boy gets excited. He starts running around and grabs a toy from the pile to play with.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Are you kidding?” Sarah exclaims. Her gaze softens as she looks at your son. “I missed the little guy so much. We’ll have a ton of fun.”

You peer at Parker. He’s found a dinosaur and a soldier and decided to have the two apparently fight in space. You have to admit, JJ’s house is much more kid-friendly than you expected. Perhaps, you can probably release him into his aunt’s care for a few hours. You have no desire to turn into one of those helicopter moms who need their children under perpetual supervision. Parker too, may benefit from some time with Sarah. He never gets to see her after all.

“Well, I guess if you don’t mind,” you say. 

Sarah perks up at your response. 

“See? Everything’s sorted out,” JJ says brightly.

The moment they see you, Kie, John B and Pope hurtle a ceaseless string of questions your way. Your life in Florida. Your job. Your dating life. The weather. How the beaches are there. No inquiry’s off-limits, too strange or personal. They constantly speak over each other, their excitement at seeing you again clear as day. You try to answer everything in between your laughs. JJ was right. It’s good that you came. 

You needed to see them. It doesn’t hit you until you listen to Kie’s bubbly, passionate rant about the foundation she created to clean up the ocean floors. You missed the Pogues. Deeply. You were so absorbed in being a mom that you never took the time to ponder that loss. 

“Guys, you have to give her time to actually answer,” Sarah jests. 

“It’s okay,” you say, waving your hand in nonchalance. Your handle on the urn between your arms tightens. “There’s something I need to do anyway.”

Quiet falls over the group, their lively chatter instantly dying. You see it in the Pogues’ eyes. All your friends are acutely aware how it guts you to do this. 

Kie takes a step forward. She hasn’t changed a bit. Brown curls cascade at her back. Her pretty face is scrunched in concern. 

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. This isn’t something the Pogues can help you with. You glance at JJ who stands a few feet behind her. His expression mirrors hers. You’ve used him as a crutch enough times. Too many times. 

You give a tremulous smile.

“No I…I need to do it alone.”

She nods as you stroll towards the rolling waves. Your slow steps trail prints into the sand as you soak in the flaming sun spilling over the horizon. Diamonds sparkle above the mesmerizing water, lights dancing over the infinite stretch of blue. 

You open the urn. Water licks your toes as you move forward. 

As you watch her ashes swirl to the bottom of the ocean, a strange emptiness fills your chest. None of it feels right. She should be here laughing. Or doing something stupid with the Pogues. Doing stupid shit was her specialty. 

Her sunny smile flickers in your mind. 

You don’t notice the tears until their salty taste slips past your lips. You quickly wipe them as soon as you do. You can’t let Parker see you cry. He would ask why, in that sweet little voice of his. “Why are you crying, mommy?”

And you’d be stumped, incapable of producing a suitable answer for him. 

“Princess?”

You freeze. The deep voice feels snatched right out of your worst nightmares. You turn slowly, denial still keeping you mute. 

Your heart drops. 

It really is him, you realize, dumbfounded. He looks the same as the last time you saw him, dizzyingly tall and wickedly handsome in khaki shorts and a seersucker buttondown. A very Kook getup. Not that you’d expect anything less from Rafe Cameron. 

He chuckles at your reaction.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His smile widens. You feel sick. He points at his chest. “Shit, am I…the ghost?”

Ignoring the rising tide of panic overflowing your insides, you brush past him. 

He follows you, his long legs easily keeping up with your hasty strides. 

“I was gonna offer my condolences but…Really? You don’t even say ‘hi’ anymore?”

“Hi, Rafe.”

Your stomps are halted when he stands in your path.

He bends so the two of you are at eye level. Your breath catches beneath his stare. You somehow forgot. How blue his eyes are. And something else strikes you as you look at him. 

Those are your son’s eyes. 

“There. Did you lose your manners in…Where do you live now anyways?” He snorts but there isn’t a hint of mirth in his tone. “It’s not like I’d know since you changed your number on me.”

Your stomach flips. “It’s good to see you, Rafe. But I was just leaving.”

When you try to get past him again, he grabs your arm to keep you from leaving. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Why the cold shoulder? After all these years…this is what I get from you, princess?”

A lump forms in your throat. 

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say. 

You try to shake out of his grasp but his grip on you tightens. 

He gets in your face, his gaze narrowing. 

“I haven’t seen you in four years. And this is how you treat me? W-What did I do to deserve that?” You turn your head, tears gathering in your eyes. His fingers latch around your jaw, digging painfully into your cheeks. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Someone pulls you back from Rafe, sliding between the two of you. 

You gasp as you stumble back. 

“Leave her alone, Rafe,” JJ grits out, standing in front of you protectively. 

A derisive snicker bursts through Rafe’s lips. He glares up and down at your friend, disdain burning in his eyes.

“Still hanging out with those Pogues, I see.” He laughs as JJ crowds his space, his jaw clenching. “You tryin’ to get into something, Maybank?”

“Maybe I am,” JJ replies.

One could cut a knife through the thick layer of tension coating the air between the two men.

You wedge yourself between them. None of them looks away from the other, a nonverbal duel still occurring right before your eyes. 

You heave out a long sigh.

“Guys. We aren’t kids anymore. That’s enough,” you say. You unleash an annoyed sigh when they don’t move and grab JJ’s hand. “JJ, let’s go.”

“Still her little puppy dog, I see,” Rafe sneers. “Too bad she never gave you any treats like you wanted, huh Maybank?”

He blows JJ a mocking kiss, wiggling his fingers and openly taunting him. 

Sensing his urge to pounce on Rafe when he tenses near you, you tug JJ further away. 

“He’s not worth it,” you whisper.

“Good night, princess. I guess I’ll see you around,” Rafe yells from afar. 

“No, you won’t,” you respond, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

The events of the evening leave you rattled. For the entire night, you toss and turn in bed, the sound of Rafe’s voice, even deeper after all these years, invading your every thought. You thought you were safe. Freed. But frankly, one look from him had you feeling weak. Defenseless. It yanked you right back to four years ago. Back when you still hung to his every word and thought he held the moon. When you thought that, perhaps, Rafe Cameron was just misunderstood. And you, the only one capable of solving the riddle he offered. You truly were a naive teenager then. 

Guys like Rafe never change. It took you entirely too long to accept that fact. You'll never make such a mistake ever again.

In the morning, JJ leaves to run some errands, leaving you alone with Parker. You plant a kiss atop his head and stroke his blond curls. His tiny fists are curled against the pillow, his lids twitching while he lightly snores. It soothes you, the sight of him soundly sleeping. He’s innocent and happy. You would do anything to keep him that way for as long as possible.

You climb out of bed and make your way downstairs. You get started on breakfast for your son, mashing ripe bananas and oats as you follow along a tutorial online. It’s where you learnt everything when it came to caring for Parker. The internet has been a life-saver in more ways than one. 

You pause your whisking when the doorbell chimes. 

Your brows knit. You’re not expecting anyone. Neither is JJ. A delivery, perhaps? But he didn’t say there would be one today.

You flinch as the sound erupts again. 

Your heart starts to race. Something isn’t right. You can feel it. 

At first, you elect to ignore whoever’s on the other side. You’re alone with your son. You won’t let some stranger who can’t catch a hint inside the house.

But it doesn’t matter. 

The bell rings again. You’re paralyzed. You take tremulous steps to the entrance. Whoever it is, you plan on telling them to kick rocks. You suck in a wide lungful and nudge the door open by a tiny crack. Your eyes fly open in shock at who’s on the doorstep.

Immediately, you try to slam the door closed. He doesn’t let you, placing his foot against the doorjamb as his large hand curls around the wooden edge of the door to keep it open. Fear seizes your throat as he looms over you.

“Rafe? What are you doing here?” you say, trying your best to quell the tremor in your voice. 

He licks his lips and drinks you in.

“Well, we didn't get to finish our talk last night-”

Of course, this is the moment your son chooses to groggily drag his feet down the stairs. 

“Mommy, I’m hungry…” he complains while rubbing his face. 

Your heart drops to your feet. 

Rafe’s eyes grow wide. For a minute, he’s too stunned to utter a word, a million thoughts seeming to go through his mind. You use his surprise to nudge him outside. He doesn’t resist, shock still written on his handsome face. 

You close the door and slump against the wood. 

“Who’s that?” Rafe blurts out once he finds his ability to speak again. He’s pointing at the door as his breaths grow heavier. It doesn’t matter that your son is now out of view. Some doors can never be shut again once they’ve been opened. This is one of them.

Your shoulders heave and fall in feigned nonchalance.

“Nobody.”

His jaw clenches. “Don’t fuck with me, okay?”

You nod and show him the front yard.

“Let’s talk over there.”

He won’t let it go. Just like he never did with anything when you were together. You watch him pace across the yard as he grips his head. It almost seems like you’re not here, a spiral of emotions clearly sucking him in. You stand back warily. You remember those spirals, how destructive they could turn. 

“Fuck, Fuck…” he mumbles under his breath. He takes a deep breath and whirls to you. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

You cross your arms, pulling the cardigan closer to your shivering frame.

“Rafe. I need you to calm down…”

He slaps your hand away when you try to touch his arm. 

“No you…Y-You don’t get to tell me to calm down, okay? Because it’s fucked. Fucked.” You jump as he gets louder, uncaring about anyone hearing him.  “How old is he? Three? Four? Is he my-”

“His father’s in Florida,” you blurt out. As soon as the words roll off your tongue, you curse inwards, your mistake dawning on you. Why did you say Florida instead of some other random state like Missouri or Massachusetts? You’re gonna have to move. Again.

Rafe’s jaw flexes before a chuckle of disbelief leaves him. 

“Really? You expect me to believe this load of crap? That kid in there looks just like me.”

“It was a one-night stand.”

He squints at you.

“I know you. You don’t do one-night stands. You’re not that kind of girl.”

“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. Maybe I’ve changed.”

That mere suggestion seems to have his blood boiling. 

“I want a paternity test.”

Your stomach plummets.

“No.”

He gives a slow nod, a smirk blooming on his lips.

“Then I’ll court-order it, sue you for custody and make sure you never see our son again.” 

A chill creeps up your spine. Your voice quakes with fear.

“You wouldn’t.”

His face breaks out into a broad grin. 

“Try me, princess.”

You look at him. Really look at him. A determination is etched in his steely glare. One you haven’t seen in years. Not since he relentlessly pursued you until you yielded to his advances. It flattered you then. It terrifies you now.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he announces. “And don’t try to run away from me again, you understand? You won’t like what happens if you do.”

Your throat goes dry. When you don’t answer, Rafe’s hand shoots up and latches around your throat.

You whimper as he seethes, “Do you understand?”

“I-I understand, Rafe,” you stutter, your body shaking in his grasp.

He pats your cheek, seemingly satisfied. 

“Good. See you tomorrow, princess.”

Even as he releases you, your chest is tight with dread.

He starts walking to his Jeep. You remain glued to your spot, feeling as if a hole just opened in the ground and you were being swallowed in its depths. 

Rafe’s gaze rakes across your shuddering frame as he starts his car.

He bends over the window and smirks.

 “Oh by the way, you still look good…Didn’t get to say that last night,” he tosses flirtatiously before driving away. 

When night comes, JJ scowls at you while you’re frantically packing. Since he came back, he has tried to convince you to stay. 

But your mind is made up. You refuse to wait for him to have the confirmation he needs to force his way into your life again. You know exactly what the test will say. There’s been no guy other than Rafe. No one before or after.

He left you so bruised, so riddled with wounds that never closed, that you never opened your heart to anyone else again. And definitely not your legs. 

“You should have called me when it happened,” JJ says.

“Call you for what? So the two of you can swing on each other?”

You glance at your son, napping across the large bed. He has no idea what’s going on. No idea his father was here just a few hours ago. A silver lining amidst the dusky clouds threatening to rain hell upon your life. A life you cherish. A life you worked so hard to build. 

A life you just lost. Coming back here was a mistake. You knew it from the beginning. Had that sinking feeling all along. But you were so chock full of guilt about your sister that you didn’t have it in you not to fulfill her last wish. She deserved that at least.

…And now, you’re fucked.

“This doesn’t change anything. We can’t stay.”

“But…”

You whip your head up and whisper to not wake Parker.

“It’s his kid. You know how much sway he has now. How much he could fuck up our lives. Not just mine. But everyone else’s…including you, JJ.”

Annoyance flares in his eyes. You can tell he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. 

“But you don’t have to do this alone. I can-”

You clutch his arm and shake your head.

“No, I already involved you enough. If we go now, he won’t be able to find us, ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

His frown accentuates. Unsaid words crowd the air. You feel their weight in his silence. Still, none leave his mouth. He heaves out a deep resigned breath instead.

“Just text me when you’ve crossed state lines, okay?”

“Of course. Tell Sarah and the Pogues I’m sorry. I’ll call her once Parker and I are safe.”

He wraps his arms around you. You sink into the embrace, committing that comforting warmth to memory. 

“I can’t believe you’re already leaving,” he says. 

You swallow the onset of tears tickling the back of your eyes. 

“Yeah…Me too.”

When you’re slinking down the road in your hatchback as stars twinkle above you, you genuinely believe you are out of trouble. You didn’t even wake Parker, just lifted him from bed and gingerly placed him in the backseat. Heavy sleeper as he is, your son did not stir. You believe the two of you are safe, sound and on your way back to Florida. That for once, you bested him. All's well that ends well, as they say.

But perhaps you escaped the frying pan to jump right into a blazing inferno. 

It is what occurs to you as you’re hailed by a cop car on your way out of town. The moment you get a glimpse of the sirens, the blood drains from your head. You can never catch a break, it seems. At first, you ponder if you should ignore it, keep on driving. You almost do it. But as the vehicle cuts right across your path, you’re left with no other option. Your nerves flare at the sight of the blue and red lights glaring in the pitch blackness, illuminating the large trees flanking the road.

As Officer Shoupe steps outside the car, your gut wrenches. He chased you and your friends across the island so many times when you were a teenager. You weren’t the most fond of him back then. Now you’re downright on the verge of soiling your car seat as he takes long, threatening strides towards your car.

He knocks on your window. You sigh and lower the glass. You place a hand in front of your face as he blinds you with his flashlight.

“Ma’am. Get out of the car,” he orders.

“I don’t understand. I wasn’t speeding-”

His hand ghosts over the holster of his gun. Your pulse quickens. The clear threat hangs in the night air, stifling your breath.

“I won’t say it again. Get out.”

You take shaky steps outside of the car, raising your hands the entire time. Your son’s in the backseat. You find yourself praying, hoping that he doesn’t wake up and see you like this.

Unspilled tears collect in your eyes.

As he speaks into his walkie-talkie, your heart stops. 

“I’ve got her, sir. You were right. She was trying to leave.”

It doesn’t even surprise you when you see a familiar Jeep arrive on the scene some time later. Of course it was all him. Of course he anticipated you running away, again.

A surge of queasiness mounts within you as his towering frame leaps out of the drivers’ seat and he stomps in your direction. You feel the bear trap closing in on you, the claws sinking deep. Inescapable.

He opens the door where your son is having an oblivious nap and barks at you, “Get Parker and come with me.”

When you refuse to move, he seizes the back of your neck and slams your face against your car window. You squeak as the coolness of the glass seeps into your cheek.

“I said…Get him,” he hisses, pressing something cold against the base of your spine. You go still. You never had one pointed at you before but you’re fairly sure you know what object is kissing your back right now.

As the muffled metallic click of the weapon ripples through the night, a stray tear skips down your cheek.

A gun. Rafe has a fucking gun. Disbelief floods your chest.

Not even your worst nightmares could you have conjured something this sick and evil.

His lips drag along your earshell as you sob. “Get our son,” he articulates. “I won’t repeat myself, princess.” As soon as he allows you some space, you rush to pick up your son from the backseat. He’s thankfully still asleep. You adjust him in your arms as you gulp down a sob, reluctantly making your way to Rafe’s Jeep. He instructs you to put him in the backseat. He then nudges the gun against your hip, quietly heeding you to climb into the passenger seat of his car. 

Your heart shrivels inside your chest as he hops into the car too and slams the door shut.

“All these years and you still haven’t learnt to listen,” he scoffs, irritation bleeding through his tone. His wrath is palpable. Sizzling, red, hot fury you feel all the way to your bones.

He hates you. Who knows what he’ll do if you provoke him any further?

Terror makes your voice slip out hoarse, hardly more than a whisper.

“W-Where are you taking us Rafe?”

The gun - the goddamn gun - is still in his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose and slaps the steering wheel. 

“I should kill you for this, you know?” he hisses, turning the key in the ignition with his other hand. The engine revs as he turns the car around. He dives onto the road. Any fickle hope you harbored dwindles into the night. 

You lick your dry lips.

“Rafe,” you try again.

His eyes flare dangerously, the gun twitching in his hand.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking.” A mirthless chuckle bursts through his lips. “S-So what now? You take my son from me, for four fucking years…and I’m the bad guy? I-It’s somehow my fault?”

You swallow past the thick lump in your throat. Tears flow down your face as shaky words bounce off your tongue. “You scared me, Rafe…sometimes.” You glance at the gun and sniffle. “You’re scaring me now. Please just…p-put away the gun.”

He slams his hand into the steering wheel as you gasp.

“Don’t fucking try telling me what to do,” he warns. He draws a long inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, there’s a peculiar determination burning in his gaze. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna drop off our son.” The corners of his lips curl upward. “Then Mommy and Daddy are gonna go home and have a little grown-up talk.”

A chill shoots through you.

“Rafe, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry. O-Okay, I admit it. I lied. But please, don’t-”

“Shut up!” he roars, causing you to fall quiet. “You’ve lied to me enough. I don’t want to hear another word coming out of your lying whore mouth until we get home.”

The commotion nudges your son awake.

“Mommy…”

Your nerves thrum in panic. You bend over the backseat and cradle his face, slotting a false smile onto your lips. “Go back to sleep, sweetie,” you urge. 

“Yes, Parker, go back to sleep,” Rafe repeats, his tone veering on sarcastic. 

“Who’s that, mommy?” your toddler inquires, tilting his head.

“Just go back to sleep,” you say, singing a tremulous lullaby to lull him back into slumber. Relief sits inside your chest when his eyes close.

He makes a first stop at his friends’ house. Your heart is ripped outside your chest as you watch Rafe’s friend - Topper or something you believe his name is - take your son away. They exchange words in the dark as you gawk in horror. You only have vague memories of Topper and now he has your son. A scream scalds the back of your throat, one you’re too terrified to let loose.

When Rafe returns inside the car, he is eerily quiet. You nearly find yourself wishing he’d talk, even if it’s to yell at you again. The silence is so unlike him, so profoundly unnerving.

But not another word escapes the confines of his tight lips as he drives.

Tannyhill comes into view and your heart sinks.

The persistent threat of the gun is the only reason you follow him inside. Whenever you drag your feet, he shoves the barrel into your back even more, reminding you what you’re risking if you don’t do as he says. You’re a sobbing, weeping mess by the time you’re in the Camerons’ lobby.

He places the gun on a nearby table and removes his belt.

“So, w-what was the plan exactly? Did you plan on never telling me?” You tense as he loops the belt around his knuckles, prowling forward. 

The golden ring on his finger glints in the low light of the lobby. 

“Did you plan on having that Pogue raise my son?”

“I…”

A sinister smile spreads over his face.

“You know what? I think we’ve been apart too long. I think I gotta remind you who the fuck I am, princess.” Your blood curdles at his words. You dart across the lobby but Rafe catches you, hauling you off the ground before slamming your body across the marble tiles without ceremony. Pain explodes through your limbs. He drags your limp frame to the railings. Your insides lurch as you feel leather bite into your flesh when he ties the belt around your wrists. He attaches the belt to the railings, restricting your arms’ range of motion.

Helplessness skyrockets inside you. A fresh wave of tears rolls down your cheeks.

“Rafe, please…”

Rafe pulls his zipper down. Impatience grunts leave him as he wriggles out of his pants and boxers, freeing his already rock-hard cock. He yanks your shorts and panties down until the bottom of your body is completely bare to him. 

His pupils swell at the sight of your bare cunt, leaving only a thin ring of blue in his dark gaze. 

He lines himself with your entrance, pressing his wet tip against your dry lips. He breaches past the tight ring of muscles as you stiffen. An immediate burst of pain scatters through you. Tears dot your lashes as heavy breaths rush from your chest. 

It’s clear it’s taking tremendous effort for Rafe to force himself inside your unprepared core. Sweat collects on his brow as he pins you with his broad frame. 

When he pushes more of himself inside you, your eyes roll back. You don’t think the agony could worsen but somehow it does. 

Your bound hands clench into fists, your nails sinking into your palms. 

“Rafe, please, it hurts,” you whimper. His fingers cinch around your throat in response. Your core burns, your lips parting in a soundless scream as Rafe bottoms out inside you. Your vision blurs with tears. Pure hatred oozes off his husky tone as he starts moving inside you. “You don’t get to complain. I don’t want to hear another fucking word from your mouth, do you hear me?” He drags his cock out and slams it inside your aching walls again. “This is what you deserve so you’re gonna fucking take it. Take my cock until I’m done with you.”

You’re in hell as Rafe grunts like an animal in rut above you, uncaring of the strangled sobs leaving your throat. 

The expression on his face is downright terrifying, empty of anything but burning rage. In every single thrust, you feel the intensity of his loathing for you. How much he craves to punish you for everything. 

To your utter disgust, your cunt grows slick around him, easing his crude assault. 

As he notes your arousal coating his length, he lets out a bone-chilling laugh. “So wet already, huh?” Hand still wrapped around your throat, he bends to whisper into your ear. “I always knew you were a slut.” Your breath hitches as he buries himself even deeper, touching a sensitive spot that sends a fresh wave of pain through you. “That’s why I had to keep you in line.” He drops a soft kiss on your cheek as you tremble beneath him. “Sluts like you need a firm hand.”

You’re nothing but a ragdoll under Rafe as he uses you as a vessel for his pent-up anger and frustration. Every time you graze your peak, your body jolting uncontrollably, he pulls out of you out of the blue, pinching your swollen clit until you cry out and reminding you that you’re not allowed to come, that you don’t deserve even a sliver of release.

You’ve always known Rafe was capable of terrible things. But this…This is worse than anything he’s ever done to you. This is the point of no return.

Every time Rafe ruthlessly pounds into you, a bullet-like sensation rips through your flesh, tearing apart any semblance of normalcy, safety that you had. Hot tears skip down your cheeks. You will never feel safe or normal again. 

“Did you fuck that Pogue?” he snarls, his warmth breath flowing over your face. You’re so dazed and fucked out, on the cusp of passing out, you can barely keep your thoughts coherent, let alone speak. 

“Don’t tell me I already fucked you dumb, princess?” he sneers, annoyance and a sick dose of mirth mingling in his hoarse timbre.

When you fail to provide an answer, he bangs your head against the railings. Pins and needles drill into your skull. He wrenches your head back, pulling on a fistful of your hair until your scalp stings.

“When I ask you a fucking question, you answer,” he seethes. His voice lowers as his eyes dive into yours. “Did you fuck that Pogue?”

“N-No, Rafe,” you wheeze out, your voice weak and defeated.

The marbled floor chafes your back as he steadily ruts into you again, grabbing under your thighs to fuck you even deeper as you weep in silence beneath him. 

“Good. You’re mine and no one else’s. Do you understand? That fucking pussy was always mine…and still is.” He unleashes a drawn-out purr, lips parting as you clench around him. “Fuck you’re tight. How the hell are you so tight?” he rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He lets go of your neck to focus on your hips, corralling them firmly in his large hands so he can fuck you with abandon. “God, I missed this,” he moans. His gaze narrows. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just cause you’ve got a tight pussy.” 

His thrusts grow sloppier over time. Rafe chases his high while you pant helplessly beneath him. When his warmth spills inside you, a shuddered exhale leaves you. He remains nestled between your bruised walls, his heavy body covering yours as his spent leaks between your ass cheeks, pooling beneath you. He plants a slow, soft kiss on your lips, a disturbing contrast to what he just did to you. 

He cups your cheek and strokes the side of your head. 

“You took four years from me. And I intend to make up for lost time.” A devilish grin splits across his face. Dread fills you as he adds, “Maybe I’ll even put another one in you, make sure not to miss anything this time.”

“Mommy, mommy! Look at me,” Parker shouts from astride the majestic pure breed pony his father appointed for his fourth birthday. 

He waves at you and you return the gesture with a hollow smile. 

“I’m watching you, sweetie,” you reply from your lounge chair by the pool. 

Above the Cameron mansion, the sun shines bright, the sky a dizzying shade of blue. There’s not a cloud in sight, almost as if Rafe paid them off to steer clear on his son’s special day.

Parker trots around the yard with a big, ecstatic smile on his face, his dad cheering him on nearby. The little boy requested a pony ride for his birthday so, of course, Rafe Cameron made it happen.

There aren’t many things Cameron money cannot buy. A fact he loves taunting you with every chance he gets. 

Just like the ridiculous, over the top birthday party he put together, Rafe never misses an occasion to spoil his son rotten since they reunited. Almost as if to show you what you’ve been depriving him of all these years, rub his money in your face and make you feel like a terrible mom. 

You can’t deny that it works. Every time Rafe gives Parker something you never could have provided on your own, guilt chews at you. And it’s clear that he knows it, that smug grin always dancing on his face when he catches you looking dejected. 

One of the moms in the lounge chair near yours lets out a dreamy sigh as she devours Rafe with her eyes. 

“You’re a lucky bitch, you know that? Cute son. Hot husband. What I wouldn’t give to have your life.”

Your teeth clench as you bite down every hateful word searing your tongue. From across the yard, Rafe’s icy blue eyes find yours. He beams at you. A chill travels up your spine. You look away.

“Hm…yeah. I guess I am,” you answer, casting a sour glance at the diamond ring on your finger. The gigantic rock’s shimmer is blinding as it catches the sunlight. To everyone else on Figure Eight, the fancy silver ring is a display of Rafe Cameron’s boundless love and devotion for you. It makes women green with envy. It bruises men’s egos. But you see the exorbitant blood diamond for what it is…An expensive shackle binding you to your gilded cage. A reminder that you’re trapped and there is no safe haven away from him anymore.

Rafe hasn’t failed to find little ways to make you pay since that day. Treating you like an object to satisfy his needs behind closed doors while forcing you to maintain the act of the perfect family in public. Every day you awake dreading he found another way to torment you, some fresh hell to rain upon you.

He never runs out of ways to twist the knife he buried deep within you. Again and again.

When the evening reaches its end, all the guests having vacated the house, Rafe slips behind you as you’re cleaning dishes. 

His large hands sweep over your hips and you recoil.

“Rafe…I’m…Can’t we give it a rest, just for today? I’m still sore from the other night,” you plead, desperation making your voice quake.

Before he can answer, Parker interrupts, trailing down the stairs as he yawns. 

“Daddy?” he utters drowsily. 

The little boy is sporting a brand new pajama his father got him, as he didn’t allow you to keep any of the clothes you got him over the years, calling them low quality and cheap.

He approaches your son at the bottom of the stairs and holds his shoulders, giving him a bright grin. His expression turns fond and prideful as he considers his son. The way Rafe is with his son is a sharp contrast to the way he is with everyone else. The toddler’s become the center of his universe. It nearly makes you feel guilty for hiding him. Nearly. The bruises tattooed all over your skin are a wicked reminder of who Rafe truly is.

“Daddy’s coming soon to tuck you in, okay, P?” He kisses the top of his head. “So go back to your room.”

Parker nods as he lets out another yawn. “Okay.”

“That’s my boy,” he chimes, ruffling his honey blonde curls. 

Parker hops up the stairs. When Rafe turns to you, the smile on his face vanishes.

He rushes to you, his hand shooting up to latch around your throat. His deathly grip on your neck crushes your windpipe. You look at him with wide, terrified eyes, your mouth wobbling. An expression edging on murderous decorates his handsome face. 

He snickers. “You’re sore? You think I give a fuck? I’m putting Parker to bed, then I want you waiting for me upstairs in that red lingerie set I just bought you.” He leans over you, mumbling in a low, threatening tone. “I meant what I said. You owe me four years, princess.” He licks the errant tear sliding down your cheek. “And I plan on getting every single second back.”

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 001

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [9.6k] based on 1x01.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of drowning, mentions of death

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

‘THAT’S ABOUT A THREE-STORY FALL TO THE DECK? I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival.” Pope theoreticized from below. John B was balancing himself on the roof, beer in hand and not a care in the world. 

Licking his finger and holding it up in the air, he spoke. “Should I do it?”

“Yeah, you should jump! I’ll shoot you on the way down.” Pope joked, electric drill gun pointed up in the brunette’s direction. 

“You’re gonna shoot me?” JB mocked the boy below him with fingers guns as Kiara emerged from inside the unfinished home, interrupting their shenanigans.

“They’re gonna have Japanese toilets with towel warmers.” She said, mildly disgusted.

“Of course they are,” JJ chimed in. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“This used to be a turtle habitat,” she continued on, looking the house up and down. “But who cares about the turtles, I guess…”

“Can’t have cold towels…” 

“Do you even use towels, JJ?” You chimed in as you rounded the corner, earbud in one ear and even from the roof, the four of your friends could hear your music blasting faintly. “I thought you shook yourself off like a dog when you got wet.”

“Ha ha.” He fake laughed before he chucked an empty beer can in your direction. You dodged it with an annoyed sneer before picking it up and chucking it back ten times harder, hitting the side of the blonde’s head.

“Ah- ouch!”

“Could you please, not kill yourself?” Kiara stared up at John B with concern in her eyes.

“And don’t spill that beer! I’m not giving you another one…” JJ warned his best friend. His words almost like a trigger, JB dropping the beer right after, hearing the metal clank against the deck as the remaining liquid splattered on the wood.

“And of course he spills the beer.” You couldn’t help but speak as you slid down one of the wooden fixtures to sit against it.

“Hey!” A new voice bellowed. That’s when your eyes found Pope leaned over one of the banisters. 

“Security’s here. Let’s wrap it up.” He said, voice wavering slightly as he pat the deck and turned around.

John B got down from the roof, following behind JJ as you all picked up the pace. You all made your way into the house, quick in your steps to avoid the officers.

Rushing down the stairs, JJ was in the front. “Right turn, J!” You shouted. But of course, he still made a left turn, coming face to face and just narrowly missing one of the officers as you all went right. “I said right turn, dumbass!” You yelled over your shoulder.

“They’re going out front!”

You, Kiara, and John B had already managed to jump into the van, watching as JJ and Pope hopped the gate and landed flat on their stomachs. John B honked the horn to urge them on. “Bus is leaving!”

With the last two of the group in the vehicle, John B practically stomped on the pedal, sending the vehicle forward.

He drove the van as fast it could go, which wasn’t all that fast for the record. The side door was still open as you, along with JJ and Pope, mocked the officer who was chasing after the busted van. 

“Check out Gary, gunnin’ for a raise.” Pope mocked, eliciting a chorus of giggles inside the van. 

“You little pricks!”

JJ waved a beer can out the door, shaking it in the mans face. “You’re so close, you can do it! There you go.” He said as he tossed the can in the running officer’s direction. “They don’t pay you enough bro!”

The officer fell behind just as the van hit the bridge, passing the welcome sign to The Outer Banks. ‘Paradise on Earth.’ The natural habitat of you and your friends.

The Pogues. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish.

There’s JJ, one of your best friends out of them all. He’s about as local as they come. He does the dumb, risky things none of the rest of you will and you actually find him quite funny, not that you’d ever let him know that. He's tries to act all wreckless and tough-guy but you all know that he's just a loyal friend who tries to do the right thing in the wrong way.

Then there’s Kiara, or Kie as she would prefer to be called. She’s been your closest and dearest friend since forever. Your fathers were as thick as thieves and you and Kie seemed to follow in their steps being best friends since pre-school, even though you lived on two differen't sides of the island up until recently. Her family owns The Wreck, this Outer Banks institution and her parents love you. The others? Not so much… 

And you can’t forget Pope, the brains of the operation. Finalist for the Luther T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And the smartest person you know. Little bit of a weirdo but who isn’t. His father’s sort of.. strict, but he gives you free seafood. He says you're the 'least negative influence' his son keeps around.

Then, of course, There’s John B — legally, John Booker Routledge. You all have a myriad of nicknames for him though — John, JB, Bree, Jombee. You all typically hang at his place, The Chateau as his dad used to call it. Speaking of his dad, he disappeared at sea nine months ago, looking for a shipwreck and his mom split when he was three. You’ve all been doing your best to look out for him but it was an extremely difficult situation…

Last is you, the Pogues resident Pogue Princess. Well, former Pogue Princess. You moved to Figure Eight about eight months ago, after your dad died and your mom’s lawyer career skyrocketed seemingly out of the blue. But you hate it there, you spent her whole life on The Cut. Plus, your dad’s death caused a bit of a strain on your relationship with your mother. Things just haven't been the same.

WAKING UP TO HARSH POST-HURRICANE WINDS IS NEVER PLEASANT. Especially not for someone who isn’t much of a morning person. You’d barely had time to rub the sleep out of your eyes when your mom came into your room, in a rush as she was running late to meet with a client, reminding you to turn on the backup generator and ordering you to help out Kiara and her father at The Wreck.

“Is that all of it?” You asked, mouth half-full of french fries that were hot and salted to literal perfection. Kie stood in front of you, apron covered in food scraps and hair in a messy bun. 

“As much as we’re gonna be able to get today.” She sighed, eyes scanning over the crates and boxes littered amongst the floor. “Here,” She started, walking towards a couple of coolers stacked in the corner. “We’ll take these coolers out on the dock. The guys should be here soon.”

“M’kay.” You hummed, jumping out of the chair you were sitting backwards in and clapping your hands together to dust them off. She grabbed the cooler off the top and you grabbed the one underneath, following her out to the dock. 

It had gotten hotter in the short time you both had spent cleaning The Wreck, sun hitting you directly in the face as you walked out onto the damp deck, eyes squinting from the harsh beam of sunlight. Your hair was thrown up and out of your face into a high ponytail. You had discarded your flannel, tying it around your waist in front of your shorts, leaving your top half in only a bikini.

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya.” JJ greeted. 

“Good morning.” Kie replied, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Whatcha got? Some juice boxes?”

You lifted the lid and peeked inside as you and Kiara continued walking towards the boat. “Looks like, carrots? And… yogurt?” You looked to Kie for some assurance. She smirked.

“I have his kind of juice boxes in this one.” She assured, wiggling her cooler in the air. 

The boat stopped at the end of the dock, the guys helping you both inside. Once you and her were all arms and legs inside, John B sped off. Kie opened up her cooler handing everyone a beer who accepted, which was all except for John B, who was steering, and Pope who opted for baby carrots.

“Salud!” You all cheered as the three of you clanked bottles.

“HEY POPE, CAN YOU GO A LITTLE FASTER?” JJ asked, now standing at the forefront of the boat, beer in hand. Pope had taken over as driver when John B joined in drinking with the rest of the group.

“Dude, nooo, not this again. It fails every time.” You tried to stop the blonde from trying this borderline ritualistic party trick that never worked. 

“Have some faith, will you?” He shot back sarcastically. “It’s gonna work!” He spoke over the rev of the engine as Pope idiotically listened to him and sped up the boat. JJ tilted the beer bottle back enough to splatter beer into his mouth, and in Kie’s hair, and on John B’s cheek, and on your lips. 

“Alright, alright!” Pope tried. “Alright, stop!” 

It happened out of nowhere, the boat coming to an aggressive and abrupt stop. The last thing you saw was JJ flipping forward into the water, JB and Kie falling off their seats, and Pope tumbling back before you were submerged within an endlessness of dark blue, a harsh stinging-sensation blooming on your back and thighs. You couldn’t tell what was up and what was down. Too disoriented from the fall, your brain didn’t catch up with your body, attempting to inhale in your panic before getting a mouth full of water. Then, within seconds, you felt a hand on your back, seemingly feeling around to make sure you were what they were looking for before two hands were under your arms and pulling you up.

You coughed as your eyes were met with the harsh light of the sun, but you were grateful for it. You could hear JJ’s voice behind your ear as you coughed up water. “I got her! She’s fine!”

He swam in front of you, his hand rubbing and patting your back as your coughing fit slowly became less intense. “You alright? You took a nasty fall.” You managed to strain out a hoarse laugh. 

“You guys okay?” Pope shouted over the edge of the boat. 

“Almost drowned but yeah, we’re just fine.” You and JJ joked back, swimming back to the boat.

“Pope, man, what happened?” JJ inquired, treading water next to you. 

“Sandbar. The channel changed...” 

“No kidding.” You said, voice still scratchy from the Marsh water. 

“Guys…” Pope started, staring in confusion over the edge of the small boat. “I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Yeah, okay...”

“No, I’m serious. There’s a boat down there. For real.” You and JJ gave each other a glance, still treading in the water as you watched the remaining three peer over where Pope was staring. “There’s a boat!”

Kie quickly turned around. “Holy shit, he’s right.” You and JJ began paddling towards where your friends eyes were glued before as they shed their clothes and jumped in with the two of you. You all took one last glance at each other before dunking your heads below the surface and diving to the pristine, white boat that stood stuck in the middle of The Marsh.

When the tips of your fingers touched the surface of the boat, you swam around it, examining the structure. This wasn’t an old shipwreck, it was too clean. This had to have happened during the hurricane. As you kept swimming, you recognized the layout, the structure, the fixtures. There was no way this was what you thought it was…

Coming back up to the surface, JJ’s voice was the first one heard. “You guys saw that, right?” He asked breathlessly, a smile on his face as he shook his wet hair from in front of his face.

“That’s a Grady-White.” You added, still catching your breath. “That’s like a half a million dollar boat, just sitting there.” You all swam back to where the HMS Pogue swayed, climbing back on all at once. 

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something.” John B spoke. Both you and Kiara turned to him, your faces falling from excitement to dismay.

Kie was the first to speak, a quiet question. “You surfed the surge?...”

“Yeah.” JB spoke carelessly, barely paying any attention before answering.

“That’s my boy. Pogue style.” JJ encouraged him, slapping a hand against his shoulder.

“Well that was dumb.” You immediately protested, siding with Kie. “You could’ve gotten killed.” You added seriously. What the hell was he thinking? Surfing a surge isn’t uncommon in the Outer Banks, but waves like that? That’s a death wish, for sure.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

There was brief, tense eye contact between the both of you before you scoffed and turned around, walking off.

“Wait. Do we know whose boat that is?” Pope asked. 

“No, but we’re about to find out.” John B spoke up. 

“Dude, it’s way too deep.” JJ pointed out. He was right. It was too deep, especially for someone with no diving experience. Diving experience that you happened to have. No matter how pissed you were at him for surfing the surge, letting John B make another dumb mistake was just as bad. Also, mildly hypocritical.

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.”

“I’m not resuscitating you.” JJ reminded. “I’m just...making that clear up front.” He told him, scrunching his nose and shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s fine.” John was now standing on the edge of the boat, anchor in hand with a smile that was much to happy for someone doing something so dangerous.

“Diver down.” Pope saluted.

You turned around, about to offer to go down yourself. That was, until JJ pushed John B off the edge of the boat himself.

“JJ!” You shouted, hands out. He turned to you, blue eyes wide and wandering. 

“What?” You just shook your head and groaned.

You just opted to stand on the other side of Kie, watching and waiting for John B to emerge again. 

Seconds passed, seconds that felt like minutes. “He’s been down there too long.” You eventually vocalized, breaking through the tense silence. 

“Should we go get him?” Pope suggested. Just then, the brown haired boy sprung up out the water, shaking his head side to side flinging water on the four of you. You all shielded your faces, mutual groans leaving the four of you on the boat.

“Dude! C’mon…” Pope complained, wiping droplets of water from his forehead and peering over the edge of the boat. “Any dead bodies?”

“No.” John B answered. “I found this motel key.” He continued, holding up a small, silver key with a yellow tag attached. 

“A key...” Pope said unimpressed. 

“Great! We… salvaged a motel key.” JJ continued mocking as they helped John B back onto the boat. Pope resumed his position behind the wheel as John B examined the key, you sat back with your earbud in one ear, still able to listen and chime in on the conversation. 

“Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard. Maybe we’ll get a finder’s fee.” 

POPE DOCKED AT THE COAST GUARD, THE PLACE BOMBARDED WITH ISLANDERS. Some searching for their spouses, pets, and family members. JJ and John B walked inside to find someone while Pope, Kie and yourself waited outside the maze of tents.

“It’s the day after a hurricane. They’re looking for old people and children, not boats. Besides, would it really be that bad if we just, didn’t report it?” You voiced.

“I don’t know,” Pope expressed, hand on the back of his neck. “What if there’s a body down there and we just, I don’t know, missed it.”

“And,” Kie started in that motherly tone that could make you question all bad judgment. “Reporting it is the right thing to do. No matter what.”

Just then, JJ and John B came back out of the tent. JJ shook his head. “No luck.” You couldn’t say you were surprised. Or disappointed. All heads turned to John B who stared out at nothing. He fiddled with the key before voicing his thoughts. 

“...I think I know how we’re gonna find the guy who owns that boat.”

“No, no, no,” Pope stressed, pointing at the key as if the object was to blame. “No bad ideas. We don’t know whose that is.”

The two boys ignored him, JJ taking the key from John B’s fingers and tossing it to Kie. “I’m in.” He declared. 

“Come on,” Kie urged Pope. “I’ll be lookout.”

You shrugged, following behind them but talking to Pope as you walked backwards. “At least we tried.” You turned to walk forwards, JB trailing behind you. 

“Finder’s fee, just sayin’” You heard him say. “And hey! At least you’ll only be an accomplice.”

Pope sighed before you heard his footsteps join the group. “Man…”

“Come on, bubba.” John B comforted, throwing an arm over the dark-skinned boy's shoulders.

THE FIVE OF YOU ALL STOOD, NOT MOVING, AS YOU SILENTLY JUDGED THE MOTEL COMING INTO VIEW IN FRONT YOU AS THE HMS POGUE DRIFTED CLOSER TO IT. 

“This is place is a shithole.” You were the first to say it out loud. The cloudy windows, the overgrown vines on the, what you guessed used to be, white walls, and the overgrown weeds. 

“I thought The Chateau looked bad...”

“Motel or Meth-lab?”

“Doesn’t look like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would stay.” John pointed out the obvious.

“It looks like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would get mugged.” You mumbled as JJ winded up the rope and jumped off the front of the boat, tying it down to anchor it in place. 

“We good?” John B asked as the chipper blonde wrapped the blue and white rope around the anchor point a couple more times for good measure.

“Good to go.”

“All right,” John B said. “Here goes nothing.”

“Hey.” Pope uttered, pointing a finger at JJ but maintaining eye contact with JB. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

“I’m not making any promises.” Was all John B said, you and Pope simultaneously rolling your eyes.

“Be careful…” Kiara spoke softly, handing John B the key. “I mean it.” John B kept his eyes on hers until a small smile crept up on his sun kissed cheeks. He let out a soft, almost school-girlish chuckle.

“Yeah...” He muttered as he turned to walk away with JJ. 

Seconds passed as you watched the boys disappear, already knowing nothing good could come out of those two. It was only a small matter of time before Kiara spoke up, eyes on you as she fiddled nervously with her fingers.

“You should go with them.”

You could feel your expression morph into one of of confusion, looking on both sides of you. “Me?” You asked incredulously, pointing a finger at yourself. “Why me?”

“Well, they’d just rope Pope into whatever dumb decision they make, so he’s not an option.”

“Hey!” Pope threw his hands up in a poor attempt to defend himself. His mouth opened and closed, trying to find words before eventually surrendering to the fact that what she said was at least somewhat truthful.

“And what about you?” You asked, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow. “Any chance for some extra time with John B, right?” You teased, edging towards the girl as she rolled her eyes.

“Will all of you stop saying that?” She looked away, playing with her bracelets. "I just get worried..."

You laughed and playfully pecked her cheek. “Yeah, worried. More like hot and bothered.” You played with the girl, hopping off the boat and landing just barely on your feet. You hadn’t made it but two steps before you heard her voice again.

“Hey!” You turned around. “Don’t forget your phone.” She reminded, tossing the small device your way as you caught it between your palms. A slight look of uncertainty on your face.

“Aren’t the towers down?”

Both of them shrugged before Pope spoke. “Couldn't hurt to have it.”

You pondered on it for a moment before letting the thought go. It wasn’t long before you caught up to the boys, the two not even noticing your presence behind them over their own conversation.

“...super sexy island chick that can play guitar and loves dogs. And her mom’s a hotshot lawyer, dude! Do you know how many guys on this island alone would jump at the chance to hit that?”

“I’d jump at the chance to hit you.” You disrupted whatever direction that conversation was going in. “I don't even want to know.” You snarked when he stuttered to defend himself, their heads turning back, JJ blubbering like a fish with his eyes wide.

“Where the hell did you...”

“Just, sh.” You dismissed him with your palm, John B chuckling under his breath. 

“It’s like, every girl who has a heartbeat you’re just like…” John B made a semi-sexual motion with his hands and let out some ancient, elderly groan. 

“It’s not a big deal.” JJ defended, the topic of conversation dying as the three of you approach the end of the walkway.

“Is this us? Twenty-nine?” You piped up, pointing to the motel door that was scuffed up entirely, paint chipped and scratches all over. 

“This is it.” John B declared, staring at the key in his palm. JJ knocked in a rhythm on the wood, pretending to be housekeeping with a high pitched voice. 

“Should we try it?” John B looked at JJ for a green light, JJ saying something in Spanish as you looked around before giving JB a nod as your signal of agreement. The door creaked open as we stood in the frame. Needless to say, the room looked better than the exterior. There was a decent sized duffel bag on the bed closest to the door, it was clear to see that the room was actually occupied for a considerable amount of time. 

“I’ll check the bag.” JB directed, using the flashlight to search through the bag. “Definitely over 50, he’s got New Balances…”

You shot him a dirty look that he couldn’t see. “I have New Balances…” You mumbled.

JJ was leaned over a map on the nightstand, scanning it curiously. “Maybe this is where they were fishing.” He declared, John B and you crowding around him on either side. “Right there?” He pointed with his finger at a spot on the map.

“No, that’s off the continental shelf.” John B argued. 

“That’s the Big Swell. No one fishes there.” You informed.

JJ continued looking over the map for a bit as you saw John B lift a piece of paper that was ripped from the motel notepad, a series of numbers written on it. You couldn’t see what numbers they were exactly but they didn’t seem important as he sat the paper down and both boys backed away from the nightstand.

You used the flashlight on your phone to continue scouting the room. It was what you’d expect out of a motel room — chipped walls, dust particles visible at every turn, the faint smell of sweat and what was either mildew or mold. Or both. 

“Oooh...” JJ could be heard from the bathroom.

“You find somethin’?” You inquired, walking into the space he was in and watching him rifle through a small black bag on a shelf.

“Just a dopp kit Bree won’t let me steal.” He whispered before peeking his head through the doorframe and pocketing a bottle of pills.

You swatted his chest, prompting him to clutch his chest like an offended old woman. “We aren’t stealing.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Put those back.”

“Whoever’s it is won’t miss them. They’re probably dead somewhere-”

“We’re not taking anything, JJ. Just put them back-”

“You know how much these could sell for?”

“I don’t care-”

“What are you guys doing?” JB was standing in the doorframe, flashlight by his side as he eyed the both of you back and forth. You both pausing and looking at John B, then each other.

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, heading for the main bedroom. John B followed, crouching down in front of a cabinet that held a safe before he began punching in numbers.

“That will literally take forever.” You reprimanded, eyeing him with confusion as you shifted your weight behind him. 

“One, one, one, two?...” He ignored you as he continued punching in combinations.

“...Or try the piece of paper you picked up not even two minutes ago?” You told him as if was the most obvious thing in the world, face twisting as you threw your free hand out to the side. He paused in his number-punching, his head craning to the side before he stood up and looked at you.

“Maybe you are good for something.” He spoke absentmindedly, walking past you to get the piece of paper as JJ reviewed the map once again. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean…” You mumbled to no one in particular as he brushed past you once again to go back to entering codes into the safe, this time you crouching next to him, watching as he punched ‘61666’ into the keypad. You watched as the door unlocked itself. 

Your eyes widened when John B fully opened the safe, revealing wads of cash secured with rubber bands, a folder, and a gun. 

“I don’t think we should…” You started.

“Holy shit.” John B proclaimed in awe, picking up one of the stacks of money.

“..touch, any of that.” 

“JJ, you’re gonna wanna see this.” The boy called the blonde over, waving the money behind him.

JJ made his way behind the both of you. You could hear his gasp of “no freaking way” before his hand was reaching to grab the one thing in the safe all of you knew better than to touch — the gun.

“Why would you do that?” You whisper-shouted with wide eyes, standing up alongside John B as JJ played around with the firearm.

“Dude, don’t touch it!” John B warned.

“This is a fucking spendy-gatt man! Blat! Blat!” JJ geeked like a school girl, pretending to shoot the gun at the wall. “Just take a picture of me, man.”

“You want me to take a picture of you? With a gun?” John B asked as if JJ was an idiot. Just then, you heard something hit the frame of the window above the nightstand, speed walking over to it and peeking through the blinds to see a frantic Pope and Kie pointing to their left, mouthing what you thought was the word ‘cops’.

“What is it?” John B and JJ said almost simultaneously as you pushed through both of them to peek out of the window next to the motel room door, spotting Deputy Shoupe and another officer making their way to the room.

“Cops.” You spoke monotonously. “Go. Now. Hide.” You urged as the three of you scattered like mice throughout the room. 

“Kildare County Sheriff’s Department!” A manly voice boomed on the other side of the door when you decided to lift the window, urging the two boys to follow you out onto the roof as quietly as possible.

You could hear the officers enter the room seconds later, telling one another to look around. John B got a little too curious, peeking his head slowly around the corner before you grabbed the ends of his hair that poked out under his baseball cap to snatch his face away from the window.

“Ouch!” He whisper-yelled, hand going to the back of his head.

“What’re you, five? Stop peeking.”

The three of you waited, hearing the muffled chatter of the officers inside as now both John B and JJ attempted to peeked inside, little visibility with the blinds being closed. For some odd, unknown reason, JJ decided to try and retrieve the gun he shouldn’t have touched in the first place from his pocket, the metal slipping through his fingers and clattering against the roof you were standing on.

You all cringed at the noise, giving JJ a side glance and thumping your head against the brick wall. 

Your heart jumped in your throat when the blinds were suddenly drawn up from the inside, Shoupe peeking outside of the window carefully. The three of you waited, anticipating the worst thing to happen until he spoke, voice deafened from the wall between you.

“No one’s here. Let’s go.” You allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“WELL, THAT WAS FUN.” JJ spoke with a chipper tone.

“The cops took everything like it was a crime scene.” Pope spoke up. “Did you guys even find anything?”

“Did we find anything? No, I don’t think so…” JJ mocked, reaching into his pockets. All you could do was roll your eyes as he whipped out the gun and a wad of cash. “Oh, yeah, we did.”

“What the hell?” Pope said, anger in his voice. “Why would you take that from a crime scene?!”

“My thoughts exactly.” You reprimanded under your breath, glancing at Pope who looked at you for a brief second. 

“Better than the cops having it.” JJ tried to justify, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Are you serious?” Kie added. 

“I’m gonna lose my merit scholarship.” Pope worried, JJ pulling him into his side and putting the gun to his lips as he shushed him.

“At least you have us, right?” JJ tried to remedy to which Pope, as well as the rest of you, gave him a deadpan look, shoving him off.

“I’m living a nightmare.”

It wasn’t long before you’d made it back to the docks where it was now swarmed with emergency services. The coroner’s had a man’s body on a stretcher as they questioned another. You all watched on the sidelines with another group of teens as a middle-aged woman ran up to the body, cradling his face.

“Who’s that?” JJ asked.

“Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm.” A random blonde girl replied. “Check out this pic I got. Dead Body.” She mocked, shoving her phone into John B’s face.

“...What kind of boat did he have?” JJ piped up randomly, most eyes turning to him.

“Somehow,” The girl started. “That dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady White. Everyone’s out looking for it.”

BACK AT THE CHATEAU, POPE CAME THROUGH THE DOOR, FRANTIC AS HE JOINED THE REST OF YOU ON THE PATIO. “Okay, so we didn’t see anything and we don’t know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia.” 

“Actually, Pope’s right, for once.” JJ chimed in from his place on the chair farthest from the rest of you. “Deny, deny, deny…” 

“Guys, we can’t keep that money.” Kie interrupted as if the thought had been plaguing her mind.

“Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara.”

“That’s not fair, JJ.” You added from your place next to John B, leaning against the post that held up the house.

“Coming from another person who can afford an unlimited data plan.”

“Why are you acting like we didn't live down the street from each other like, eight months ago?” You criticized.

“But you don’t live there now, do you, princess?”

“Don’t call me that." You warned, chucking a pillow at him as he dodged it. "You know I hate when you call me that-”

“Guys.” Pope stopped your childish bickering, allowing Kie to finish her thought. 

“We have to pass it off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it’s bad karma.” 

You shook your head in disagreement. “If anything, giving her the money is bad karma. This whole thing is sketchy and those wads of cash literally scream drug money.”

“I agree.” JB finally spoke. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. One time, I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot.”

“I can attest to that, I saw him doing the same outside of a Shopper’s once. He didn’t have a shirt on. It was disturbing.” You added absentmindedly.

John B threw his hands in your direction as if saying you were proving his point further. “We are talking about a dirtbag, marina rat who’s never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket and somehow managed to get a brand-new Grady White. Think about it—how does a marina rat get a Grady White, Pope?”

The boy sucked air in through his teeth, tilting his head to the side. “Prostitution?” John B shook his head in disagreement.

“Uh-uh. Square groupers, bro.” He claimed, using his hands for emphasis. “Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don’t do that stuff during a hurricane. Which means? JJ?” John B handed off the invisible mic to the blonde.

“They were straight smugglin’.”

“And I guarantee there’s a serious amount of contraband in that wreck.”

“For the record,” Pope began to tell the four of you in that overly-intelligent tone, fiddling with the wad of money. “If that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on it, it probably belongs to someone else. Someone could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“Right,” JJ added, taking the stolen stack of money from Pope’s hand. “But stupid things have good outcomes all the time.”

“But usually not in our case…”

“Not helping, Princess.” JJ quipped, head tilting in your direction. You took steps in his direction, smacking him upside the head and snatching the wad of cash from his hands, counting it as you spoke.

“Ouch- dammit!” He exclaimed, caressing the back of his head.

“I warned you once. Listening is fundamental.”

“We need a way on to the ship.” John B added, ignoring you both with that distant look in his eyes. “But for now we gotta lay low.”

“Right…and how exactly do we do that?” JJ inquired, leaning back in his seat.

Sharing a glance with Kie, you both looked back at the boy in front of you before speaking at the same time.

“Kegger?”

THE BONEYARD WAS CROWDED, TO SAY THE LEAST. With Kildare being such a small part of the Outer Banks, news spread quickly. The beach flooded with tourons, pogues, and kooks alike. Beer sloshing, girls dancing.

You’d all went your own sort of ways when it started to kick up — JJ chugging beer with some chick, John B chatting up another, Kie educating a group of girls, and Pope scaring off some poor girl with dead body talk. You’d just gotten off the keg, lightheaded as you stood back up the right way from where two strangers were holding your legs as everyone around you chanted, wiping the beer from your lips when Kie approached you with a snarl on her face.

“What is she doing here?” Your eyebrows pinched together, your eyes following hers to find what had her wound so tight.

It was no other than Sarah Cameron — stood on an old beach post with her loyal dog of a boyfriend, Topper, right behind her. You couldn’t help but internally groan, turning back to Kiara with an eye roll that set into an annoyed expression. 

“God, why is she everywhere?” The brown-haired girl complained as your eyes drifted across the beach, landing on the puppy-eyed friend of yours whose own eyes were fixated on the blonde near the shore. Even from feet away, you didn’t miss the glint in his eye. But there was no way JB had a thing for Sarah Cameron, right? He knew how you and Kie felt about her and he didn’t like Kooks. There was no way.

Nudging Kie’s shoulder, you spoke again. “Better question is, why is John B looking at her like that?”

Kiara’s attention drifted to John B, watching him like he was watching Sarah. A look in her eyes you couldn’t quite decipher — somewhere between disappointment and betrayal. Your own attention was pulled back to the aforementioned couple who were steadily approaching the crowd of teens.

If this were a house party, you’d shun them at the door. Unfortunately, this was public beach and nothing could be done to stop them from joining in.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN AND WHAT ONCE WAS A KEGGER IN FULL SWING WAS NOW A BEACH FULL OF TEENS CROWDED AROUND BONFIRE. The four of you were sitting near one another, the only one missing being JJ.

“I’m just saying, it was ninth grade guys. Maybe she’s changed.”

“Ninth grade or not, Sarah Cameron is still a bitch.” You shot at JB who was suspiciously defensive of a girl who really only knew of through his job, Kiara, and yourself. The topic of conversation kept drifting back to Sarah throughout the night, watching her frolic and gawk at the crowd of people as if she’d never been to a party before. Topper glued to her side per usual.

You all watch from the side as Topper grabbed her hand, helping her up from the log they were perched on as it seemed they finally decided to call it a night just as JJ had come back with the beers he’d went to go refill for John B and himself. 

John B stood up and approached his friend, ready to take the cup when Sarah and Topper walked by, gaining the attention of a drunk JJ Maybank who wouldn’t let them go unnoticed. If Kooks had one-hundred haters, JJ was the leader of them. If Kooks had no haters, JJ was dead. 

“Wait, Sarah!” He stopped them in their tracks. “Can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?” He slurred. Sarah looked him up and down before politely declining the offer. You, Kie, and Pope watched the interaction silently from your places in the sand. “What? Is it not fancy enough for you?”

“We were just leaving…” She sassed, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“Y’know what?” Topper mused. “I’ll take it. Thank you, man. ‘Preciate it.” You could tell this wasn’t a genuinely civil interaction, the remaining three of you in the sand watching from the sidelines sparing one another a weary glance.

“That’s a nice gesture, Topper, but I didn’t ask you.” JJ retorted, the smile dropping from Topper’s face quickly. John B was already attempting to step in between the two. “If you said ‘pretty please’? Maybe. But you didn’t. So…”

“Oh, pretty please?” Topper shot back unbelievably. 

JJ dismissed him, turning back to Sarah and once again offering the drink when Topper suddenly smacked the drink away, the beverage splattering all over JJ’s face. The beach of teen’s attention was suddenly pulled to the four of them in the middle of the beach as you, Kiara, and Pope stood from your spots in the sand.

JJ was quick to snatch Topper by the collar of his button-up before John B pushed him back in an effort to calm down his friend. He was speaking to JJ, words no one could hear until Topper shouted ‘dirty pogues’, stealing John B’s attention in a matter of seconds as the boy whipped around to march towards him.

John B pushed Topper’s shoulders back, the action not doing much. The three of you still standing figured it was time to step in, dispersing from your places and getting in between the four of them — mainly the three guys as Sarah stood off to the side. . 

You saw it coming before you heard the connect, Topper edging towards John B before striking him in the jaw.  “Hey!” You shouted, jogging in their direction with Kie by your side as you watched Topper kick your friend while he was down.

“Guys? Guys!” You heard Sarah shouting. 

“Don’t make me drown you like your old man, alright?!” Topper spat. If you were any further back in the crowd that all watched like this was a professional brawl, you wouldn’t have heard it.

The statement obviously struck a nerve within JB, the boy finding strength in his state of anger to get up and tackle Topper into the shallow water. You usually weren’t one to condone violence, but JB was standing his ground and Topper deserved it.

The two boys circled each other, taking turns throwing punches. The odds were in John B’s favor, until they weren’t, Topper taking the opportunity to flip him onto his back into the water. 

You couldn’t tell what was happening immediately until you finally registered what was going on. Topper had John B pinned by the back of his neck, face down into the shallow sea water.

“Topper!” Sarah shouted over and over, her whining making your fists ball.

“Sarah!” You turned to her. “Will you shut the hell up and get your psychotic boyfriend?!” All the girl could do was shoot you a mean glare, turning back to the sight in front of her and continuing her chant of Topper’s name.

“He’s drowning him.” You heard Kiara speak behind you. Your eyes scanned the beach for something, anything — landing on a thick piece of driftwood, you wasted no time in sprinting over to it, picking it up almost like a baseball bat. You could hear your three friends calling your name as you ran up behind Topper, wielding the piece of wood like a weapon, ready and fully prepared to knock his ass out with it.

You were feet away from the angry, rich blonde before JJ had beat you to it, holding a gun to the back of his head. You stopped in your tracks, the piece of wood falling to your side as your jaw went slack and your eyes wide.

“JJ!” Kiara yelled.

“Dude, chill!” Pope shouted, walking up behind his erratic friend.

“JJ! Put the gun down!” Sarah tried, finally deciding to actually step in with the rest of you. The blonde girl shouted you and Kie’s names. “Will you check your psycho friend, please?!”. You and Kie simply ignored the girl.

“We’re good! We’re good!” Topper surrendered, releasing John B’s neck from his hands. You, along with Pope and Kiara, wasted no time in rushing over to aid your friend, kneeling in the wet sand and salt water next to him as the three of you sat him up.

“Everyone listen up!” JJ continued. “Get the hell off our side of the island!” He yelled, shooting stray bullets to the sky. You flinched slightly at the unexpected, ear-ringing sound.

“JJ!” You yelled at him, louder than you had the entire night. The crowd of teens dispersing, running every which way in between the trees. You made sure Kiara and Pope could take care of your wounded friend themselves before shooting up from your crouched position and approaching JJ, snatching his shoulder back to face you before pushing his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

“I was saving his life, okay?!”

“By firing a gun you stole?!”

JJ had no idea the trouble he’d just created and the argument didn’t go much further than that when the four of you heard a splash and turned back to find John B, who’d collapsed, unconscious, back into the water. 

“I’M CALLING IT OFF.” Was the first word said between any of you. It was the next morning and John B had called you all together at The Chateau, the five of you spread out in the yard. There was a cloud hanging over the group, a tense silence. The only noise being a ball JJ kept tossing back and forth. “Peterkin said that if I stay out of The Marsh, she’ll help with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ asked as if his friend was the biggest dunce in the world. 

“Yes, I believed her, JJ, she's the Sheriff. All I have to do is stay out The Marsh for a few days and she’ll help me out.” He repeated. “It doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting a gun!”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head side to side. “Y’know what? I should’ve let Topper drown your ass.” 

“Yeah, because Topper was really going to drown me.”

“It sure looked like it. I mean, have you looked in a mirror?” JJ shot back, leaning against a wooden post of the outdoor structure. “They always win, don’t they, man? They don’t want us in The Marsh which means there’s something valuable down there.” JJ tried to reason, eyes pleading with the rest of you. “I understand why you don’t wanna go.” He pointed at Pope. “You’re the Golden Boy, too much to risk.” Then his eyes were on Kie. “And you’re rich as fuck, anyway. Why would you bother?” She ignored him, rolling her eyes as his own blue ones landed on you. “And you? You-”

“Don’t go there, JJ.” You warned him, eyes connecting with his, a serious expression plastered all over your face. You stared at one another, a bitter exchange without words. Then, he was looking at John B.

“We got nothing nothing to lose. And I know it didn’t use to be that way for you.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this.” 

“I have plan John B, just listen,” JJ started, staring at the tense back of his best friend who wouldn't face him. “You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?”

“No, dude-”

“There’s scuba gear!” The blonde protested, standing right next to John B now. “We borrow that, go down to The Wreck this afternoon-” Your eyes met Kie and Pope’s as you mockingly mouthed ‘borrow’, the jab followed by an eye roll. JJ Maybank was never known to just ‘borrow’ anything. “And that’s what going to save you. You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?”

“AND WE’RE SERIOUSLY LETTING JOHN B STEAL FROM THE LION’S DEN?” You questioned as the remaining four of you lounged around the boat. “I mean, what if he gets caught? I doubt Ward will just let him go.”

“He won’t get caught.” JJ exhaustedly reassured you for the millionth time as he unanchored the small motor boat from the dock.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, judging by the lanky bandana wearing boy waddling towards us with his hands occupied by oxygen tanks, I’d say he did just fine.” Everyone’s attention was now drawn to John B, climbing one leg over the other into the boat, letting the tanks clank against the floor of the water vehicle.

You were the first to snatch them up, shooting JJ a mean glare for his sarcasm. It was only seconds before you scoffed and let your head fal back, zoning your sights in on John B. “Good job, you scored empty tanks.”

“What?” He proclaimed breathlessly, a look of sheer confusion written across his face as you continued looking at the meters on the tanks.

You held up one of them on display. “This one's a quarter-full. That’s only enough for one of us. And judging by the look on your faces, I’m going to assume I’m the only one here who knows how to dive?” They all averted their eyes. “Great.”

“It’s kind of a kook sport…” JJ mumbled. You supposed he was right but for you it was just a skill that your dad had spent years teaching you, being a professional diver himself. “Plus, how hard could it be anyway. You put the thing in your mouth and breathe.”

“Well,” Pope started. “If you come up too fast the nitrogen could enter your bloodstream and you could get the bends.” 

“The bends? Like bend over?-” JJ tried to joke before being cut off, his body in a half bent position.

“The bends kill you.” You and Pope both corrected simultaneously, both with the same amount of annoyance in your tone. Shaking your head, you stood up with the semi-full tank in hand and made your way over to Pope.

“You’re the only person I trust to help me with the math on this.” You proclaimed. The boy’s eyes widened, nearly jumping up from his feet, a notepad and pencil in his hand that seemed to almost appear out of thin air.

“Yeah, yeah, I can help,” He stammered. “The boat’s about thirty-feet down. So, at that depth, it’ll take twenty-five minutes. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about ten feet. For two minutes.”

“Got it.”

“When you’re down there,” JJ started, key in hand. “Look for the cargo hold, stick this thing inside, twist and pull-”

“I know how to use a key, JJ.” 

“I- y’know you have been very sassy today, little miss thing, and I don’t appreciate it, alright?” He started ranting in mock-offense. “That’ll be the last time I try to help you.” He muttered, pouting next to Pope. You chuckled before picking up the oxygen meter, trying to make sure you would have enough air to decompress. And you did, just barely.

“Hey,” Pope announced. “If we get caught in The Marsh, we’re basically screwed, so…”

“Is this your way of telling me to get my ass into the water?” His eyes looked around as if he were thinking deeply, a small nonchalant shoulder shrug before he was replying.

“Mmm...Basically, yeah.” You snickered at the boy before stripping down to your bikini, pulling the tank over your shoulders and the mask down over your face before jumping in. Once you were in the water, you gave one last look to your friends before letting the air fill your lungs and going completely under. 

You started to make your descent, slowly. Making your safety stop at what you estimated to be about ten feet as Pope has advised. Stopping for those two minutes before continuing to dive further down.

The water was dark, foggy, and murky — a lot different from diving in ocean water. It was like walking through an abandoned mansion with only a lighter to see. Nonetheless, your eyes landed on the cargo hold within the sunken boat. It was a small struggle trying to fit the key into the hole with the water swaying your hand in different directions but you managed after a couple tries.

Twisting and pulling as JJ had directed, the cargo holds door came up, floating gracefully to the side, revealing what was inside. A black duffel bag and even in the water, it was still decently heavy. You couldn’t waste time examining what was inside with the amount of oxygen you were running on, so you started to swim your way back up, careful not to move too fast.

Following the length of the bowline, the boat came into view the closer you got to the surface of the water. But then so did another, a slightly larger one. You stopped, squinting trying to make out whose boat it could be but it was pointless. The meter on your tank told you that you had about a minute before you were out of air. 

You waited for what felt like minutes but what had really only been about fifteen seconds. Your heart thumped out of your chest when you saw a figure standing on the edge of your friend’s boat through the water that was far too buff to be any of your friends. And you could’ve sworn it was Deputy Shoupe.

You were still but you didn’t feel still enough, as if any slight movement might make the man able to see through water. To see you. You couldn’t get caught in The Marsh. They couldn’t know Scooter’s boat was here. One wrong move and you could screw this all up. Despite your nerves, you looked frantically at the meter in your hand — fifteen seconds of air left.

And it just kept getting lower.

You were mentally screaming at whoever that figure was to get the hell out of here. Ten seconds. Then five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Zero.

You had no air left and your only option was to hold your breath and hope for the best. And maybe a little hope was all you needed because by the grace of God, the figure retreated not long before the boat was speeding away. You wasted no time in swimming towards the surface, bursting through the waves and snatching the mask off as fresh air filled your lungs.

You heard sighs of relief as your chest filled and your hearing returned to normal. 

“Don’t scare us like that!”

“Scare you?” You breathed out, treading water while looking at your four friends. “I thought I was gonna die!”

“What’d you find?” asked Pope.

“I don’t know but it’s something.” You started swimming back towards the boat, throwing the bag overhand towards JJ as you climbed up the ladder. 

“You good?” Pope questioned, concerned. “You scared the shit out of us. The cops were up here but we took care of ‘em.” So it was Shoupe, you thought as you plopped yourself down on the boat, wasting little time in shrugging the tank off of your back when you spotted another boat coming in your direction.

“Guys? Bogey, two o’clock.” You announced, breathlessly. 

“Anybody recognize it?” Pope asked, prompting collective ‘no’s’ to sound out. 

“What’re they doing here? The Marsh is closed…” John B questioned silently.

"Maybe they don't know?" You threw out.

“My vote’s on not sticking around to find out.” JJ advised, going straight for the bowline as fast as he could to unanchor the boat. John B began steering the boat before the anchor was even completely out of the water. 

“Go into The Marsh. Go.” Pope commanded firmly. At that moment, the opposing boat followed the HMS Pogue and you could’ve sworn it sped up. 

“They’re definitely following us.” Kie voiced worriedly. Looking back, there were only two men on the boat. Two faces you’d never seen in Kildare before.

“Gun it, JJ!” John B shouted. There was no doubt that you all were being followed at this point and you didn’t want to know what would happen if they caught up. Your hand was gripping the edge of the boat as it sped through the shaky waters, the small boat practically zooming past everything in sight but the two men remained on your tail. Suddenly, the man not steering the motorboat behind you pulled out something — a unmistakable object.

“Guys, get down!” Was the last thing heard and the only thing you could shout before a shot rang out in the air, a stray bullet clanking against the structure of John B’s boat but failing to puncture anything severe, everyone ducking except the boy himself. 

“John B, get down!” Another shot followed, zooming right past your head. So close and so fast that you didn’t even see it, the only sign being the sound of wind breaking next to your ear and a stinging, burning sensation at the top of it.

“Jesus!” You shouted, slouching against the inside of the boat, smooshing yourself in between Kiara and Pope. Your hand went up to hold your ear, pulling it back to reveal a small amount of blood on the tips of your fingers. You doubted you got fatally shot, it couldn’t have been anything more than graze.

“Are you okay?” Kie asked as you drifted your own eyes to meet hers, a genuine concern swimming in her gaze. Your sights roamed her face for a moment before nodding and touching your ear slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Then a third shot was sounding out. “Shit!” yelled Kie, her own eyes were focused on some netting laying in the boat. You watched as she got up and grabbed the material, throwing it over the back of the boat just as the fourth, and hopefully final, shot rang out. The boat that had been following you all spun out once it the net, the trap causing their engine to fail, sending you miles ahead of them in seconds.

You all stood up and stared back at the male figures disappearing behind you, chuckles leaving you all one by one until the boat was nearly shaking with triumphant laughter. You turned to JJ, giving him a victorious double high-five.

“Oh, damn,” His smile fell as his gaze turned to the left side of your face. “Did you get hit?” He asked, his hands reaching out to trail his fingers down the length of your neck, pulling them back to reveal the red substance decorating his fingers.

“Barely. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll have a sick scar, though.”

You scoffed at this. “A girl can only dream.”

THE SUN HAD SET BY THE TIME YOU ALL HAD REACHED THE DOCK. The four of you had all but flew off the boat and onto the wooden platform, John B rushing to unzip the duffel bag you’d retrieved, still shivering slightly from your damp state. You’d thrown your t-shirt back on at some point, using your shorts to soak up the blood from your ear which made them un-wearable.

“It’s gotta be money right?” You expressed, shaking the remaining water from your damp hair.

“That or a couple of keys with street value from the low to mid-mills.”

“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope blurted quite aggressively. The group turning to him in shock and amusement.

“Wow, Pope. That’s a… rare outburst of emotion.” John B added. 

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

“Same.” You added in your two cents. “I almost drowned for this.”

“We all almost died for this.” Pope cut in.

“Yeah, that too, I guess.” You dismissed him playfully.

John B finished unzipping the bag, revealing a metal container about the size of a human thigh. Anchoring the object between his knees, he grunted and groaned as he attempted to twist it open until it popped, allowing him to twist off the top and reveal…

“A compass?” Kie said unamused, almost disgustedly. Pope threw his hands over his head and JJ scoffed.

“Great job, everybody. We found a compass.” The blonde threw out. But John B saw something. He was looking at this object as if it meant the entire world to him, and that look prompted you to kneel next to your best friend and set a hand on his shoulder.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You asked softly, eyes fleeting back and forth between John B’s watery gaze and the dingy compass.

“...This was my father’s.”

next chapter>

[starfacedangel]

welcome to the outer banks, paradise on earth

[jjmaybankswh0re]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 ~ 𝐎𝐁𝐗 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂

Blurb ~ Kalani "Lani" Alora is a 16-year-old Kook born into wealth and expectations, but she's nothing like her perfect family. While her parents push her to fit into their polished world, Lani feels suffocated by the luxury and pressure. Her heart belongs with the Pogues, the real ones who know what it means to survive without trust funds. In a world of opulence and privilege, Lani is ready to break free, even if it means defying her family—and risking everything she’s ever known. Welcome to the Outer Banks. Paradise? Not for everyone. ~

Character description: Kalani "Lani" Alora is a fiery 16-year-old with long brunette hair that falls in waves, framing her sun-kissed face. Her green eyes sparkle with mischief, while freckles dust her tan skin, a reminder of the time spent under the sun. With a button nose and plump lips, her features carry a natural, effortless beauty that contrasts with the polished world she’s expected to fit into. She’s bold, rebellious, and unapologetically herself—someone who doesn’t shy away from breaking the rules or challenging the expectations placed on her.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reckless behaviour, mature themes, emotional strain.

Master list

PART 1:

Word count: 11,165

They say the Outer Banks is paradise on Earth. Sure, maybe if you’re a tourist sipping Mai Tais on the beach or some Kook lounging in your second home, pretending life’s just one big country club. But for me, the so-called “paradise” feels like a gilded cage, all shiny on the outside but suffocating once you’re stuck inside. My name’s Kalani Mae Alora, but everyone calls me Lani. I’m 16, wild, reckless, and everything my family wishes I wasn’t.

I’m a Kook by birth. Figure 8 born and bred, raised in a mansion bigger than most people’s dreams, with parents who have more money than love to give. My dad, Douglas Ford Alora, is a big-shot real estate mogul. My mom, Amara Rose Alora, is the state’s top lawyer—because of course she is. And then there’s my older brother, Riley. The golden boy. The pride and joy. He’s everything they want: polished, preppy, and a grade-A asshole. The kind of guy who thrives in the Kook world, where your worth is measured by your wealth and your yacht size.

And then there’s me—the family disappointment. The rebel. The one who refuses to fit into their picture-perfect world. They want me to be a polished pearl, but I’m more like a jagged seashell—rough, untamed, real.

The truth is, I’m not cut out for their world. I don’t belong at their stuffy country club parties or in their suffocating circle of self-congratulatory egos. Honestly, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon than spend one more minute with the Kooks. They’re all the same—entitled, fake, and so damn boring.

My heart? It belongs on the Cut, with the Pogues. My friends. My real family. The ones who know what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, who don’t have trust funds to fall back on but have loyalty in spades. We’re the scrappy, sunburned kids from the south side of the island, where people work their asses off fishing, chartering boats, and doing whatever it takes to survive. They don’t judge me for being a little reckless or having tattoos hidden under my hoodie. They get me. Even Kie, who’s technically a Kook like me, would rather be with us than in the shallow waters of her old world.

But my parents don’t get it. They don’t get me. To them, I’m just a problem to be fixed. I skip school because sitting in a classroom feels like being locked in a cage when there’s an entire world waiting outside. I party because life’s too short to sit still. I drink and smoke and stay out for days because it feels like the only way to breathe.

My mom and dad don’t see the good grades I somehow manage to pull off, or the way my friends count on me when things go south. No, they only see the tattoos I’ve hidden from them (for now), the nights I don’t come home, and the way I refuse to bow to their rules. They threaten me all the time—boarding school, getting kicked out, even one of those wilderness camps for “troubled teens.” But their threats are empty, just like their understanding of who I am.

Coming home always ends the same way: screaming matches that leave the walls trembling and me storming back out, slamming the door behind me. And you know what? I’d rather be anywhere but here. On the beach. In the water. With my friends. Living.

It’s a cycle. A vicious, messy, exhausting cycle. And yet, I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Because out there, with the Pogues, I’m free. Out there, I’m not Kalani Alora, the letdown daughter of the island’s most powerful family. I’m just Lani. Wild, reckless, and alive.

Tonight is the night of the annual Kook party, Midsummers. AKA the one thing I dread most. I stand in the kitchen, my arms crossed, fuming, while my mom stares me down from across the island.

"Kalani, I’m not telling you again. You are going. End of story," she says, her voice dripping with that tone that means she’s done arguing. The same tone she always uses when she’s acting like she’s the one who knows what’s best for me.

I roll my eyes so hard I’m pretty sure they might fall out. "Mom, people less than 3 miles from here still don’t have power, no running water, nothing. And we're going to Midsummers? Do you not see how tone-deaf that is?" I can’t believe this is even a conversation. Hurricane Agatha tore through the island last week, and Figure 8, of course, had its water fixed within hours, not like the Cut where they’ve been waiting for days. The Kooks are all living in luxury, while the Pogues are stuck in a wreck. And all mom cares about is this stupid party.

She narrows her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Seriously, Kali? I suggest you put on a party face if you want to live." Oh, great. "The dress I picked out for you is upstairs, go shower."

I let out a deep sigh, muttering under my breath as I storm off toward my room. This night is going to suck.

When I walk in, the dress is laid out on my bed like it’s some sort of treasure. It’s pale golden yellow, the fabric shiny but not too in-your-face. The top has a ruched sweetheart neckline—whatever, nothing special. The waist is tight, and then the skirt flows down to the floor with a slit on one side, which is probably the only thing that even slightly grabs my attention. It’s nice enough, but honestly, it’s just another dress to me. A dress I’ll wear because I have no choice, and I'll pretend it’s okay when it’s not.

It’s pretty though. Like, really pretty. But there’s no way I’ll admit that to my mom. At the foot of the bed, there are a pair of white heels—square-toe with an ankle strap. I pick them up, inspecting them like they're somehow supposed to impress me, then set them back down. But then my eyes catch the flower crown resting next to the dress. It’s made of tiny white and yellow flowers, tied together on a brown vine, with a soft white ribbon in the back. It’s cute, I guess. Kind of summery and soft, but definitely not my style. I was expecting something much more “Kook-y,” but this isn’t terrible. I have to admit, it’s kind of nice.

I don’t even know why I’m surprised. My mom is obsessed with making me into some perfect little Kook, and I don’t fit in. I just don’t.

I head into my bathroom, which, let’s face it, is way too fancy for someone like me. It’s huge. So huge, I swear they built it just to make sure I’d never want to leave. It’s "coastal," of course, but not the cool, laid-back vibe I’m used to. No, this is more like a showroom, with white wood, light blues, and grays plastered everywhere like they want to remind me that we have money. The shower’s big enough to fit a small army. Don’t even get me started on the freestanding tub by the window. Like, who actually needs this much space to get ready in the morning? It’s a joke.

I strip off my clothes, looking at myself in the mirror. Staring at the tattoos that my parents can’t stand, but I love. I’ve got a few of them—one on my left wrist, my elbow, under my boob, my hip. I’ve even got one behind my ear and on my lower back. They’re all small, except for the one on my elbow, the one with the words my granny used to say all the time: “Live with fire.” I got it in honour of her last year. She’s gone now, and this tattoo is the only reminder I have of her.

At 16, I’m pretty sure the last thing my parents expected was for me to have 6 tattoos. They only know about the one for granny. They freaked out at first, but after a while, they gave up trying to control me. I know they haven’t seen the others, and I’m not in a rush to show them either. But that'll be a fight for later.

I’ve spent the last week on the HMS Pogue—surfing, chilling with my friends, hanging out at the beach. The tan from my bikini’s a perfect match for the dress I’m supposed to wear tonight.

The warm water in the shower is a welcome relief as I step in, letting it soak through my hair. The overpriced shampoo my mom insists I use smells like coconut and vanilla. It fills the bathroom with this sweet, sickly scent as I work it into my scalp. I rinse it out, then do it again, scrubbing harder this time, just wanting to wash away everything that’s bothering me about tonight.

I just wish I didn’t have to play their game.

Once the shampoo was fully rinsed out of my hair, I grabbed the conditioner. It's that same overpriced stuff my mom buys, and it still smells like coconut and vanilla—sickly sweet and way too luxurious for someone like me. I rake it through the middle and ends of my hair, working it into each strand, making sure every last one gets coated. I don't want any frizzy, tangled mess when I step out of this shower. My hair’s long and thick, so I clip it up with a claw clip, securing it out of the way while I let the conditioner soak in, doing whatever magic it's supposed to do.

I stand under the hot water, letting it cascade down, feeling the weight of it on my shoulders, drowning out everything for a minute. It’s easy to get lost in this. To just be here, in this bathroom that feels like it belongs to someone else.

Next, I move on to my body. I grab the Tree Hut shea sugar scrub. It's the plain one, nothing special, but it smells warm, comforting, like something I could wrap myself in. I scrub it all over my skin, from my shoulders down to my toes. My skin feels soft and smooth, and the scent is almost like a second layer of me, like a little bit of peace before the chaos of tonight. I rinse it off, feeling the roughness of the sugar scrub melt away with the water.

Then comes shaving—legs, my downstairs area, and my armpits. It’s something I do on autopilot, but I can’t help but think about the things I’d rather be doing. The water’s starting to cool a little, but I don’t care. The routine is almost soothing, even though my mind’s a thousand miles away.

Once I’m done with that, I grab the silicone body scrubber, a little worn but still good for scrubbing away the day. I use my body wash—the one that smells like fresh linen, like the kind of clean that’s almost too perfect. It’s like running through freshly washed sheets on a hot summer day. That clean, crisp, airy scent fills the shower as I lather myself up, and for just a moment, everything feels quiet. Not perfect, but quiet. Something I can hold onto, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

I stand there, letting the warmth of the water relax my muscles, but I know the storm’s waiting for me once I step out. The party. The dress. The Kooks. It’s all just another part of this world I’m stuck in.

Once I was done with my body, I carefully unclipped my hair from the claw clip, letting it fall around my shoulders, feeling the conditioner slowly slip from the strands as I washed it out. The water running through it felt like silk, the smoothness of my hair almost surprising me after the mess I had to deal with earlier. I stood there, running my fingers through it, making sure every bit of the thick conditioner was gone, until my hair felt soft and weightless, almost like it was floating. I ran my hands over the ends, making sure nothing was left behind, and it felt so good to have my hair feel that smooth again, free from all the tangles and the heat of the day.

After a few more moments under the water, I made sure I was completely rinsed off—no soap residue, no conditioner, nothing left behind but fresh, clean skin. I turned off the shower, stepping out into the steamy bathroom. The cold air hit me, making me shiver slightly, but the big white fluffy towel I grabbed was comforting as I wrapped it around my body, hugging myself into the softness. I reached for another towel to wrap my hair in, twisting it tightly to soak up the water.

I walked over to the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. My reflection was a mix of wet hair, slightly flushed skin, and the remnants of the tiredness that was starting to show on my face. I grabbed my toothbrush, squeezing a bit of toothpaste onto it, the minty scent hitting my nose as I started to brush. I scrubbed my teeth in slow circles, letting the minty taste fill my mouth as I stared at myself in the mirror. My thoughts wandered, flickering between tonight’s party and the mess of everything that came with it.

Once I finished brushing, I set the toothbrush down and moved on to my skincare. I grabbed the exfoliator first, the gentle beads scraping at the dead skin on my face. I massaged it in small circles, focusing on my cheeks and jawline, feeling the grit of it, the way it sloughed off all the build-up. It always felt good, almost like I was erasing the day from my skin. After rinsing it off, I grabbed the facial wash, the coolness of the gel soothing my skin. I lathered it up, pressing it into my face and working it into a light foam, careful around my eyes. It smelled fresh and clean—nothing overwhelming, just pure. I rinsed that off too, splashing my face with water until it felt like it was completely cleansed, refreshed.

As I wiped my face with a towel, I felt the tension in my shoulders slowly start to release. But I knew it wouldn’t last. The second I walked out of this bathroom, the whole night was going to hit me again. The dress, the heels, the Kooks. I wasn’t ready for any of it. But for now, I was clean, and that felt like a tiny victory in itself.

I walked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, my bare feet sinking into the plush rug as I headed for my vanity. The towel around my body was pulled snug, a comforting layer of warmth against the cool air from the AC. I pulled the towel off my head, letting my damp brunette hair fall in messy waves over my shoulders, droplets of water soaking into the towel still wrapped around me.

Reaching for my phone, I connected it to my Bluetooth speaker and shuffled my "Getting Ready" playlist. The opening notes of "Chanel" by Frank Ocean filled the room, the smooth melody wrapping around me as I started the process of transforming myself for the night. I set my phone down and grabbed my blow dryer, sectioning my hair and working through it methodically. The warm air flowed through the strands, turning them from wet to soft and fluffy. I ran my fingers through each section as I worked, making sure nothing was left damp.

As much as I hated the idea of Midsummers, there was something satisfying about this part—the routine of getting ready, the self-care, the rare moments of just focusing on myself. For a little while, I could forget the chaos of the world outside and pretend that tonight wouldn’t feel as fake as every other Kook event.

Once my hair was completely dry, I set down the dryer and took a moment to assess it in the mirror. My natural brunette colour had these little golden streaks from all the time I’d spent in the sun, and I knew they’d look even better once I added some waves. I decided to go with something a little softer tonight—nothing too overdone because, honestly, I just wanted to feel like myself. I started by curling my hair into loose waves, letting the brunette strands fall in soft, effortless cascades down my back. It’s that kind of messy-but-pretty look, like I spent hours on it when I really didn’t.

For the top, I pulled back a section of hair into a half-up, half-down style, securing it with a clear elastic so it looked neat but still natural. To add a little something extra, I braided a small strand of hair on one side and tucked it into the pulled-back section. It’s subtle but gives it just the right amount of detail.

The rest of my hair flows freely, the curls catching the light every time I move. It’s simple but sweet, and it feels like me—a little undone but still put together enough to face the ridiculousness that is tonight.

I walked over to my bed where the dress was still laid out, golden and glowing softly in the warm light of my room. I carefully picked it up, the fabric slipping through my fingers like water. Stepping into it, I pulled it up and adjusted the straps on my shoulders before reaching for the zipper at the back. It slid up easily, the dress fitting perfectly, hugging my waist and flaring out gracefully down to the floor.

The slit on the side was higher than I expected, revealing a hint of my tan leg as I moved, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I turned to look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting the sweetheart neckline so it sat just right. The pale-yellow colour looked good against my sun-kissed skin, even though I’d never tell my mom she was right about that.

I tied the flower crown into my hair, the soft white and yellow blooms sitting perfectly on top of my styled waves. Taking a step back, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked... nice. Not like the Kook princess my mom probably wanted me to be, but not like I’d just rolled off the HMS Pogue either. It was a weird mix of both worlds, and maybe that’s exactly where I was meant to be.

I fastened the flower crown into my hair with a few small bobby pins, carefully adjusting it until it sat just right. The tiny white and yellow flowers felt soft and delicate against my curls, like the one part of tonight’s outfit that was actually me. I took a step back to look in the mirror, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. It was pretty, I had to admit, but that didn’t make the whole Midsummers thing any less of a circus.

With a sigh, I sat back down at my vanity, staring at my makeup bag like it might magically do the work for me. I don’t wear full-coverage makeup—ever. Foundation feels like a mask, like one more thing to hide behind in this world where everyone already pretends to be something they’re not. Tonight wasn’t going to change that.

I started with concealer, dotting it lightly under my eyes, just enough to brighten things up and erase the shadows of too many sleepless nights spent thinking about everything I can’t control. My beauty blender bounced softly against my skin, blending the concealer until it melted into nothing. No one needs to know I’ve barely been sleeping; that’s between me and my reflection.

Next was blush—a cream one that I dabbed onto the apples of my cheeks. It was this warm, pinky-orange shade, almost like the colors of a sunset. I blended it out until it looked natural, just a soft flush that played off the tan I’d earned from a week spent on the HMS Pogue, under the sun with my real family. The blush wasn’t just makeup; it was a reminder of who I was, of where I belonged.

I picked up my eyelash curler and paused for a second, staring at it in my hand. It’s funny how something so small can make such a difference, but it does. I carefully curled my lashes, making sure not to pinch my skin. A few quick swipes of mascara later, and my lashes were dark and lifted, but not overdone. I hate when makeup feels heavy, like it’s weighing you down. I wanted to feel free tonight, even if everything else about Midsummers felt suffocating.

Finally, I finished with a pink lip gloss. It was glossy and soft, not too bright, not too bold—just enough to make my lips look like they’d caught the last rays of the golden hour. I pressed my lips together, catching the faint scent of vanilla as I did. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

I leaned back in my chair, studying my reflection in the mirror. My makeup was simple, natural—exactly how I like it. Light enough that I still felt like me but polished enough to survive the sharp gazes and fake smiles of the Kooks. If I had to play this role tonight, at least I’d do it on my own terms.

And that’s the thing: this whole routine, this whole night, it’s a balancing act. A way of making my mom and dad happy without completely losing myself in the process. It’s exhausting, but I can fake it for one night. After all, I’m good at pretending when I have to be.

I stood up from my vanity chair, letting my bare feet sink into the soft carpet as I walked over to the shelf where my perfumes were lined up, a little too perfectly. Each bottle had its own memory, its own story—birthday surprises, Christmas mornings, or those rare moments when someone got me exactly what I liked without me having to say it. My fingers hovered over the collection before landing on the one I always reach for: Good Girl Blush Elixir by Carolina Herrera.

This perfume is my signature, the one I can’t live without. It smells like everything I want to be—soft but bold, with a mix of rose, vanilla, and patchouli that feels feminine but not too sweet. It’s the kind of scent that lingers, the kind that turns heads. I uncapped it, giving the nozzle a little test spray into the air before aiming it at all the right spots: my wrists, the front and back of my neck, behind my ears. I even gave myself a couple of extra sprays, letting the mist settle onto my skin like a finishing touch. It was intoxicating, warm, and comforting all at once.

Once I was done, I grabbed the white purse sitting on the edge of my bed. It was simple, but it worked—a little clutch just big enough to hold the essentials. I tossed in the bottle of perfume, some deodorant (because these things always drag on), gum, my phone, and my lip gloss. I zipped it up and slung it over my shoulder, pausing for a moment to take it all in.

I walked over to the full-length mirror that stood in the corner of my room, its frame carved with delicate floral details that matched the rest of my overly curated, "perfect" Kook bedroom. I looked at my reflection, taking in the golden dress that clung to me in all the right places, the flower crown perched like a soft rebellion against the polish of the whole look, and the subtle glow of my makeup.

For a second, I almost didn’t recognize myself. Not because I looked so different, but because I looked like I belonged—like I could fit into this world of Midsummers and champagne toasts and whispered gossip. But deep down, I knew better. I wasn’t one of them. This was a costume, a role I had to play.

I smoothed the skirt of my dress, took a deep breath, and tried to push down the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. "Alright, Kalani," I muttered to myself, my voice steady but low. "Let’s get this over with."

I stepped into the white heels that had been waiting at the foot of my bed, the straps cool against my skin as I fastened the tiny buckle around my ankle. They weren’t anything too fancy—square-toed with a simple design—but they did their job, adding just enough height to make me feel a little more elegant, even if I hated how much it screamed Kook princess.

I took a few steps in them, testing the waters. They were surprisingly comfortable, but still, they reminded me of all the reasons I hated these events. It’s like every detail—down to these stupid heels—was designed to show off, to shout, “Look at us! We’re perfect!” I wasn’t about to trip or wobble, though. If I had to play along, I’d do it on my own terms, confident and unbothered.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror again, I glanced down at my reflection. The heels gave the golden dress an extra edge, the slit in the skirt showing just enough leg to make it look effortless—like I hadn’t spent the last hour pulling myself together. The flower crown softened the look, a subtle reminder to myself of where my heart really was.

I shifted my weight, the faint sound of the heels clicking against the hardwood floor as I turned to grab my purse. They felt like armour in a way, a final piece to complete the picture my mom wanted so desperately to paint tonight. But as far as I was concerned, the moment this party was over, these heels were coming off, and I’d be back where I belonged: barefoot on the HMS Pogue, salt in my hair, with people who didn’t care if I looked polished or perfect.

“Kalani, come down! We’re taking a family photo!” My mom’s voice rang out from downstairs, sharp and insistent. I groaned, loud enough that she probably heard it, stealing one last glance in the mirror. The dress shimmered faintly under the soft light, and the flower crown sat perfectly in place. It was fine—whatever. Good enough.

Turning away, I walked out of my room and into the hallway. The heels clicked against the hardwood floor with every step, a sound that echoed louder than I wanted it to. It felt weird, almost unnatural, like I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t, clacking my way down this house that still didn’t feel like home.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I spotted her—my mom—standing at the bottom, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a line that said she was in no mood to argue tonight. Her eyes locked on me immediately, scanning me like a hawk. It wasn’t a look of admiration or even casual approval; it was inspection. Like she was checking for flaws, making sure her carefully curated daughter looked the part, up to her unspoken standards of perfection.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, gripping the banister as I descended. The closer I got, the more I could feel her gaze, like a spotlight I didn’t ask for. I hated this—hated how I felt like some kind of doll she could dress up and parade around to make herself look good. But I bit my tongue, let the heels carry me down each step until I was standing in front of her.

She gave a small, tight-lipped nod. “You look... nice,” she said, her voice clipped, like she couldn’t bear to admit that I might actually look good.

“Thanks,” I said, my tone flat, the sarcasm barely masked. I adjusted the strap of my purse, already counting down the hours until this whole ordeal would be over.

My mom was standing there, dressed to the nines in an elegant royal blue gown that hugged her figure perfectly, the kind of dress that screamed wealth and status. It shimmered slightly in the light, and as I got closer, I noticed the intricate beading and embroidery running along the fabric, small, delicate details that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. She had on a matching set of jewellery—a diamond necklace that caught the light every time she moved, earrings to match, and, of course, her giant wedding ring that could blind someone if the sun hit it just right.

I stopped midway down the stairs, my eyes locking onto her accessories, and then it hit me. Jewellery. I completely forgot about jewellery. My face must’ve said it all because my mom’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she knew I was about to stall.

“Oh—uhm, hold on. I forgot to put on my jewellery,” I blurted, my voice slightly panicked as I spun on my heel and started heading back up the stairs. My heels clicked against the steps in a rush, the sound echoing through the massive hallway.

“Kalani,” my mom called after me, her tone sharp with a mix of annoyance and warning, but I didn’t stop.

“It’ll only take a second!” I called over my shoulder, practically sprinting back into my room. How could I forget something so obvious? I mean, sure, I wasn’t thrilled about this whole charade, but if I was going to be forced into the Kook spotlight, I might as well do it right. There’s no way my mom would let me live it down if I showed up looking “unfinished.”

I darted over to my jewellery box, a sleek, mirrored thing that sat on my dresser. I flung it open, the tiny compartments stacked with earrings, bracelets, and necklaces.

I grabbed the gold necklace with the small sun pendant, one of the few pieces of jewelry that actually felt personal. The sun pendant had a tiny white opal in the middle, catching the light in this soft, shimmery way. It wasn’t flashy, but it was beautiful, understated—exactly what I needed. I clasped it around my neck, letting the pendant rest perfectly against my collarbone.

Next were my earrings. I had three piercings in each ear, and I quickly popped in the gold hoops for the first two. The first hoop had a small dangling diamond that sparkled whenever it moved, and the second had tiny diamonds encrusted all the way around. For the third piercing, I put in simple diamond studs—small but bright, like little drops of light against my skin.

For my rings, I went with a mix of delicate gold bands. Nothing too overwhelming, just a few spread out across my fingers in that perfectly imperfect way—skipping some fingers and stacking others just enough to keep it interesting. They were simple and elegant, adding a little extra something to my look without feeling over the top.

Finally, I moved on to bracelets. On one wrist, I clasped a gold tennis bracelet—thin, sleek, and timeless. On the other, I layered two dainty gold bracelets. One had a tiny charm on it, barely noticeable, and the other was just a smooth, minimalist band. Together, they felt balanced, subtle, and, dare I say, classy.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, adjusting the necklace so the pendant sat perfectly in place. My jewelry wasn’t overdone, and it definitely wasn’t “Kook extravagant,” but it felt polished and put together. This was my version of ready.

With a deep breath, I grabbed my purse off the bed again and turned toward the door. My heels clicked softly as I made my way back out of my room, this time fully prepared to face my mom’s critical gaze and the chaos waiting downstairs.

I walked down the stairs, and as soon as I stepped off the last step, I was met with the familiar impatient expressions of my mom, dad, and Riley. They all looked like they were ready to pull their hair out waiting for me to get my act together. I felt that familiar pressure in my chest.

“Sorry,” I muttered, and honestly, I was. I never liked rushing, especially when I felt like I was being pushed into a version of myself that didn’t feel like me at all.

“Come on, Kalani, we need to get the family photo. The photographer’s waiting for us outside,” my dad said in that authoritative way he always had, ushering me down the stairs with a firm hand on my back.

My heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floors as I made my way down, the sound a little too sharp and hollow for my liking. The click-clack followed me all the way through the grand hallway and out the door. The cool night air hit my face as I stepped outside into our huge backyard, which stretched out toward the ocean. It was a view I’d never get used to, but it always felt like a reminder of how different I was from my family.

The backyard was decorated with hanging string lights that twinkled against the dark sky. The soft glow looked almost too perfect, too curated—like everything in this house. It was the kind of backyard where everything had a place, where even the air felt like it was designed for Instagram photos. The photographer stood nearby, ready to capture every perfect moment, and I could already feel the forced smiles taking over.

The photographer directed us into position, telling us where to stand, how to angle ourselves, and where to place our hands. The flashes of the camera went off in rapid succession, and I couldn’t help but feel like this whole thing was just a performance. The whole family photo, the posed smiles, the way they insisted on making everything look so… perfect.

My dad and brother were in suits—my dad in a dark, sleek black one that screamed "power," and Riley in a more relaxed, but still tailored, light gray one. It was hard not to feel like I was the odd one out in this perfect little picture they had created. My dress, my jewelry, my smile—none of it felt like me. And yet, here I was, standing perfectly still, forced into a moment I knew didn’t represent who I was or what I stood for.

The photographer snapped more photos. One of the whole family, then a few of just me and Riley, some with just my mom and dad. But in all of them, I knew one thing for sure—none of us were really here. Not really.

An hour later, we arrived at the Midsummer party, and I immediately felt the familiar weight of it all. The party was a spectacle of excess—a perfect embodiment of the Kooks’ obsession with showing off how much money they had. It was set on the sprawling waterfront grounds of the country club, where the place practically glittered under a canopy of fairy lights strung through towering oak trees. The lights were warm and inviting, almost magical, but all I could think about was how they reflected off the polished marble floors of the patio, making the place feel like a showroom, not a home.

Elegant tables were scattered across the lawn, their white linen cloths perfectly draped, with cascading floral centerpieces that practically screamed luxury. Servers, dressed in crisp black-and-white uniforms, glided between the guests like they were part of the décor, offering champagne and perfectly arranged hors d'oeuvres. The laughter was polite, the kind that was almost too rehearsed, and the soft clink of crystal glasses mixed with the live band playing in the background, their music flowing like the tide against the nearby docks.

I could already feel the weight of this night pressing down on me. As we walked in, I couldn’t help but notice the Cameron family near the entrance—just a second away from my family’s wealth and, I swear, their closest competition in this weird little game of “who’s richer and more glamorous.” Ward Cameron, Rose Cameron, and their kids, Wheezie, Sarah, and Rafe.

Wheezie was just 13, but she already had that look—the one that said she was going to be just like her older sister, Sarah. Sarah and I were the same age, but we were never on the same page. I used to get along with her, back when I thought being friends with her would help me fit in. But that was before the whole Kook/Pogue divide hit me like a ton of bricks.

The air between me and Sarah was thick with tension. Kie and Sarah used to be best friends—used to, being the key word. That’s when I thought I could be part of their world, too. But things fell apart, like everything with the Kooks always does. And now here I was, walking into another perfect little moment, watching them pretend everything was fine, knowing full well it never would be.

I looked over at Riley, who was already making his way toward Rafe Cameron with his usual “I’m one of you” swagger. I wished I could be that detached, that easygoing about this whole thing. But instead, I felt like I was slipping into a role I never wanted—like I was just another cog in their polished machine.

As we made our way deeper into the crowd, I tried to keep my distance, but it didn’t take long for the inevitable interactions to begin. Topper was the first to spot me, his signature smirk already plastered on his face as he leaned against a nearby pillar.

"Kalani," he said, the way he said my name made it sound almost like a joke. "Nice to see you actually made it." His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering just a little too long on the soft flow of my dress before settling on my face. He was always like that, like he could never fully decide if I was beneath him or if he should pretend I was someone he liked.

“Topper,” I said, forcing a smile, trying to keep my tone neutral. "What's up?" I wasn’t in the mood for his usual small talk, but he was the kind of guy who just had to fill the silence with something.

He chuckled, taking a sip from a glass in his hand—was it whiskey? I couldn't tell. But whatever it was, it was making him that much smugger. "I don’t know why you bother with these Kook parties," he said, taking another long drink. “You know you don’t belong here, right?”

My chest tightened, but I kept my posture straight, pretending it didn’t affect me. "And yet, here I am."

Topper raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my lack of a reaction. "Hmm. I’ll give you that." Then, without another word, he walked off, probably to find someone else to annoy or charm.

I let out a deep breath and tried to move past the awkwardness, but of course, Kelce was there to fill the silence. He clapped me on the shoulder like we were best friends, even though we definitely weren’t. "Looking good, Kalani," he said, a little too enthusiastically.

"Thanks, Kelce," I muttered, trying to dodge his gaze, but he wasn’t done.

"You know, I bet you’re more fun when you’re not being all... Kook-y," he said with a grin, clearly trying to joke but coming off a little too eager.

I felt the blood rush to my face. Kelce was the type of guy who always thought he knew everything, especially when it came to people’s lives. And maybe I hadn’t been as good at hiding things as I liked to think. "I’m not really in the mood for your jokes tonight," I said, walking past him quickly. I could feel his eyes on my back as I moved away. He didn’t get it. They never did.

And then there was Riley, my older brother. He was talking to Rafe now, laughing at some joke I didn’t care enough to overhear. Rafe had always been a problem, but tonight it felt like he was more of a shadow than usual, lurking around the edges of everything. He was dangerous in the way that you could never be sure what side he was on or what game he was playing.

As I made my way toward the edge of the party, I couldn’t help but notice that the tables were littered with half-drunk glasses, abandoned champagne flutes, and half-empty cocktails. The temptation was unbearable. My throat felt tight as I scanned the crowd, looking for an easy target—someone who wouldn’t notice, someone who wouldn’t care.

I found it quickly—a half-drunk glass of something pink, a sweet little cocktail with a tiny umbrella sticking out. It was sitting alone on the edge of a table, the owner nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, I picked it up, took a quick sip. It tasted like sugar, something fruity with a sharp kick. I felt the warmth spread through me almost immediately, and I couldn’t help but sigh. It was like the world around me softened, the harsh edges of the night going blurry. For a second, I felt good, not so out of place, not so suffocated by everything I couldn’t stand.

I didn’t even think about where the glass had come from, who it belonged to, or how many people had touched it before me. I just took another sip, and then another. The feeling, the way the alcohol settled in my chest, made everything a little easier. I didn't care about the Kooks, about Topper, about anything. For once, I was just floating.

It was easy to get lost in the moment, to let the party's chaos carry me away. But just as quickly as the high hit, I realized how deep I was in it. I had to keep it together—keep it all together—because if anyone noticed, it could all fall apart. I didn’t want to be that person. But at the same time, I didn’t want to be the person I was supposed to be either.

I set the glass down, feeling the familiar sting of shame creeping up my neck. The night was just beginning, and I already knew I was going to need more to survive it.

I turned away from the drink station quickly, shaking off the buzz that was creeping in. I didn’t want to think about it too much. I wasn’t going to let myself slip—not here, not now. I knew how to play the game—keep my cool, stay in control. Even if it meant lying to everyone around me, including myself.

But as I walked across the lawn, I spotted Sarah Cameron by the drink station. She was laughing with a few of her friends, looking every bit the perfect Kook in her dress. She noticed me almost immediately, and for a moment, our eyes met across the space.

It wasn’t that I hated Sarah—honestly, we just didn’t click anymore. We’d been close once, back when everything felt simpler. When Kie and I hung out with her, before the weight of the world had shifted and split us apart. Now, it was like we were in two different worlds, drifting in and out of the same spaces, but never really connecting.

"Hey, Kalani," Sarah called out with a smile, her voice easy and warm. It wasn’t fake—just… distant.

"Hey," I replied, offering a tight smile of my own, but I could feel that strange distance between us. I wished we could go back to how things were before it all fell apart, but it wasn’t like I could pretend everything was fine. Not anymore.

Sarah’s eyes scanned me up and down, a flicker of something passing through her gaze. "You look really nice," she said, her tone genuine. "The dress suits you."

I felt the weight of her words, and for a second, I almost wanted to thank her. But something inside me held me back. She was being nice, but that old sense of betrayal—of everything we used to have slipping away—was still there, lingering between us.

"Thanks," I said quickly, brushing it off with a half-smile. "You look great too."

Sarah nodded, her smile softening, but she hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was a reminder of everything that had changed. The old closeness we’d shared was just… gone now.

"So, are you enjoying the party?" she asked, trying to make conversation, her tone still light.

"Yeah," I lied. "It’s fine."

She nodded again, glancing over at the crowd, then back at me. "I know things were weird between us for a while," she said, catching me off guard. "But it’s nice to see you again. I hope you’re doing okay."

I looked at her, really looked at her. She wasn’t trying to start something, or stir up drama. It was just... two people who had shared something once, but it had fizzled out. Her words felt sincere, and for a second, I almost wanted to say something back. To acknowledge it, maybe even apologize for how things had turned out. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

"Yeah," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to the grass at my feet. "I’m good."

Before Sarah could say anything else, I turned, heading back toward the side of the yard, away from the crowd. I needed a moment to breathe. It felt like everyone was looking at me, judging me, even though I knew they weren’t. I couldn’t shake that feeling of being out of place, though.

As I walked, I spotted a table with a few half-drunk glasses of champagne sitting on it. Without thinking, I reached for one of the glasses and took a sip. The sharp tang of the alcohol hit my tongue, and I didn’t care that it wasn’t mine. The rush, the warmth spreading through my chest, made me forget for a moment that I was still stuck in this strange in-between world.

Riley must’ve seen me, because he was suddenly at my side, his hand on my arm, his face serious.

"Hey, what’s going on?" he asked, his voice low. "You okay?"

I just shrugged, trying to act like everything was fine, even though it wasn’t. "Yeah, I’m fine."

Riley looked at me for a moment longer, like he could see right through me, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just gave me a small, almost resigned nod, as if he knew what was really going on.

And for a second, I felt seen. But then, just like that, the moment passed, and the world kept spinning around me.

I didn’t want to be here. But here I was.

But something caught my eye almost immediately.

JJ.

I stopped in my tracks, squinting through the crowd. Was that... him?

He stood at the edge of the patio, fiddling nervously with the collar of his shirt, wearing a black suit and a bowtie that looked about as awkward on him as a fish out of water. I walked over, pushing my way through the crowd.

"JJ?" I called out, raising my voice to be heard over the noise.

His head whipped around, eyes wide with that familiar cocky grin that was more for show than anything.

"Kalani, what's up?" he said, his voice a little too loud and obviously trying to sound casual.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, giving him a once-over. "You look like a waiter, not like yourself."

He laughed, shrugging with that nonchalant ease I’d come to expect from him. "Yeah, well, I'm here to deliver something. John B needed to give Sarah a note. So, here I am—waiter JJ, at your service."

I raised an eyebrow. "A note for Sarah?"

JJ pulled out the crumpled paper from his pocket and handed it to me, looking around the party like he was trying to make sure no one saw him. I opened it, and my eyes skimmed the scrawled words:

Meet me at bag drop - Vlad

I looked at JJ, confused. "Who’s Vlad?" I asked, my voice low.

JJ just shrugged again, his eyes darting across the room, clearly nervous. "John B wouldn’t tell me. But I’m telling you, Kalani, John B’s definitely mackin' on Sarah Cameron. No doubt about it."

I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. Mackin'? John B and Sarah?

"Seriously?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "You’re telling me John B is hooking up with Sarah Cameron?"

"Yup." JJ nodded, giving a grin like he was proud of the gossip he just dropped.

“Your serious?” I say, handing the note back to JJ.

“Dead serious.” He says with a nod, taking the note and putting it back in his pocket.

I look at JJ for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His face is all scrunched up in that mischievous way he gets when he’s trying to be sly, and I can’t help but smirk. Of course, JJ would be involved in something like this. "So you’re really doing this, huh?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Pretending to be a waiter at the Kook’s fancy party just to get a note to Sarah?"

JJ shrugs, looking around like he’s making sure no one’s watching. “Hey, someone’s gotta do it, right? Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” he says, flashing a grin that doesn’t exactly match the nervous energy swirling around his eyes. “Besides, John B owes me one. This is gonna be fun.”

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, fun. Just try not to get caught, okay?"

“Caught?” He scoffs. “Please, I’m practically invisible in this suit.” He adjusts his bowtie, puffing out his chest like he’s some kind of undercover agent. I just shake my head, already imagining the mess he’s going to cause.

Before I can say anything else, he’s already slipping into the crowd, blending in with the other Kooks, who are too busy with their champagne flutes and fake smiles to notice the trouble brewing. I turn away, the sound of the party rising up around me again.

I just want to be anywhere but here. But there’s no escape tonight. Not when my family insists on dragging me through their charade, pretending like everything’s perfect.

The next few minutes pass in a blur of laughter, music, and clinking glasses. I find myself wandering the edge of the yard, away from the crowds, just trying to catch my breath. That’s when I see it—a table set with half-empty glasses of champagne. Without thinking, I grab one, taking a long, deep sip. The alcohol burns down my throat, but for a second, it’s a relief. The warmth spreads through my chest, a nice contrast to the ice-cold feeling that’s been eating away at me all night.

“Kalani,” a voice calls out, snapping me out of my haze. I turn to see Riley standing behind me, a concerned look on his face. “What are you doing?”

I try to act casual, but I can tell he’s already seeing through me. “Nothing,” I mutter, waving my hand dismissively. “Just needed a drink.”

He eyes me for a long moment, his gaze intense, and I can’t help but feel like he’s seeing something I’m not ready to show. But after a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he just steps closer, his hand gently touching my arm, like he’s trying to ground me.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, even though I don’t feel okay. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... just not feeling it tonight.” I glance down at my heels, feeling like they’re the only thing holding me up at this point.

Riley doesn’t push me. He just stands there for a moment longer, his presence a silent support, before he steps back, nodding once. “Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

I watch as he walks off, swallowed up by the crowd, and I’m left alone with my thoughts again. For a brief moment, I feel like I can breathe again. But then, I hear it—a loud laugh, followed by shouting.

I turn, and that’s when I see JJ. He’s being chased.

It’s chaos—Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and a few others are barrelling after him, pushing through the crowd like they’re on a mission. JJ’s suit jacket flaps as he tries to sprint away, a wild grin on his face like he’s somehow enjoying this.

I glance around, trying to figure out what’s going on, but before I can piece it together, I see Sarah. She’s watching the scene unfold, a small laugh escaping her lips as she talks to a few other people nearby. I don’t know why, but I feel a little guilty—like somehow, this mess is my fault, even though I had nothing to do with it.

I glance back at JJ, still dodging the group chasing him, and can’t help but shake my head. Whatever chaos this night’s going to throw at me, it’s only just beginning.

I freeze when I hear JJ’s voice—loud, brash, unmistakable—cutting through the hum of conversation like a knife. I turn just in time to see him being hauled out by the security guard, who’s doing his best to look authoritative but failing miserably as JJ’s antics draw more attention than anything else happening in the room.

“Look—hey look man! I got legs, I can walk myself. Can you see that, brother?” JJ’s voice is grating, defiant, but there’s a weird sense of humor in it too, like he’s playing some sick joke on the entire party.

The crowd around us stirs in shock, gasps echoing through the air. I can see some of the Kooks shaking their heads in disgust, tsking under their breath. My parents aren’t far behind, their expressions a mixture of confusion and irritation.

I don’t know why, but I feel my stomach drop. The scene is embarrassing—so embarrassing—but I can’t look away. I know JJ’s out of place here. He’s not even supposed to be here.

The security guard pulls JJ right past me, and for a second, our eyes meet. His grin is wide, almost too wide, as if he’s enjoying the chaos he’s causing. I can tell he’s acting out, getting under the skin of everyone here just because he can. He’s never been one to shy away from drama, even if it means making a spectacle of himself.

“Alright, I really appreciate whatcha did back there, but let me just walk myself out,” JJ says to the security guard, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The guard doesn’t respond, just yanking on his arm in an attempt to hurry him along.

As they pass, JJ stops at a table, and I can’t help but feel like I’m witnessing some strange, surreal moment. He pats an old man on the shoulder, someone I barely recognize but who’s definitely a fixture at these Kook events—Mr. Dunleavy, I think his name is.

“Oh! Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink,” JJ says with exaggerated cheerfulness, looking completely out of place in the fancy surroundings. The old man just looks at him, clearly bewildered, and nods, unsure of how to respond to this drunken interloper.

“Good that’s really nice for ya. I’m actually gonna down that-“ JJ, not waiting for an invitation, grabs Mr. Dunleavy’s whiskey glass. Without a second thought, he lifts it to his lips, downing the entire contents in one swift motion. The way he swallows it with a satisfied grin on his face almost makes me laugh, but I hold it in.

JJ slams the glass back down onto the table with a dramatic thud that echoes across the patio, drawing even more stares from the guests. The security guard, still holding onto his arm, continues to drag him through the crowd of Kooks like a stubborn bull being led to slaughter. JJ groans loudly, probably feeling the burn of the whiskey, he just downed, followed by an enthusiastic "Woo!" that cuts through the hum of the party, making heads turn.

“I really appreciate the discretion, Darel, ya know?” JJ says, slurring slightly but maintaining his cocky demeanour. The security guard, Darel, looks utterly unamused as he pulls JJ past a table of laughing guests.

“It’s okay, everybody! Do not panic,” JJ calls out to the crowd with a huge grin plastered on his face, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music. He throws his arms wide, like he’s hosting some twisted show. “Let’s leave it to the men and women in uniform, huh?” He claps his hands together as if this is some grand performance, his words laced with more sarcasm than sincerity.

A few of the Kooks laugh nervously, unsure of whether they should be entertained or appalled. I’m not sure which one I feel.

JJ, still soaking up the attention, scans the crowd until his eyes land on Rose Cameron. He points at her across the yard like he’s spotted a celebrity in the crowd, a wild grin spreading across his face.

“Rose!” he shouts, waving a hand at her, as if he’s the life of the party and everyone should be on his wavelength. “You look like Lady Liberty!”

Rose, wearing a spiky gold crown that indeed looks eerily similar to the Statue of Liberty’s, looks both confused and mildly flattered, unsure whether to be offended or impressed. Her eyes widen a little in surprise, but she manages a polite smile and a small wave, trying to keep her cool.

The crowd’s attention is now fully on JJ, some people chuckling nervously, others shaking their heads in disbelief. This is a scene straight out of a bad reality show, and I can’t help but feel embarrassed for everyone involved.

I catch a glimpse of my mom and dad, both of them visibly tense, their faces a mixture of frustration and confusion. I can already tell this is not the kind of drama they wanted at their perfect little party. I feel a pit form in my stomach, a sense of dread creeping over me as I realize that no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape the mess of my life. It’s everywhere, even here, even tonight.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms sweating as I stood there, staring at the security guard who still had a firm grip on JJ’s arm. The crowd had quieted down, some of them looking at me, waiting to see what I would do next. My parents’ disapproving stares were like daggers in my back, but I couldn’t back down. Not this time.

"Let go of him!" I snapped, my voice tight with frustration. The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.

Behind me, I heard my dad’s quiet, warning “Hey,” but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t care about his tone right now. I just couldn’t stand seeing JJ getting dragged through the crowd like that.

"You can’t just boot him out!" I said, louder this time, directing my words at the security guard, who had stopped walking but still had a firm grip on JJ’s arm.

My mom’s fingers dug into my arm, pulling me back a little, her presence almost a physical reminder of the Kook world I was always forced to be part of. I knew she was about to intervene, probably with some polished apology and a few well-placed smiles, but I couldn’t let that happen. Not now.

"Excuse me, ma’am?" The security guard asked, his tone polite but firm, like he had dealt with spoiled brats and their tantrums a thousand times before.

"I invited him here," I said, my voice coming out even more steady than I felt. I didn’t care if it was a half-truth. JJ wasn’t some random guy crashing the party. He was a part of my world too, in his own messed-up way.

Behind me, my parents’ voices overlapped, both of them whispering at once. "Kalani, stop it," my mom said sharply, her voice tight with worry.

"Stop," my dad muttered, his tone lower, but no less insistent. He was probably afraid this would spiral into more drama than they could control. But I wasn’t stopping. Not now.

"I’m a member of this club," I said, my hand outstretched, gesturing towards myself as if the words alone could somehow fix this situation. As if that would make everything okay, make JJ’s presence here less of a threat to their precious image. But it didn’t.

The security guard paused, his gaze flicking to my parents, who were now standing behind me, clearly uncomfortable with the direction this was going. His grip on JJ loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go completely. The tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

"Kalani, please," my mom tried again, her voice low, but I could hear the desperation in it. She wanted this night to be perfect. She wanted nothing to disturb the image they had so carefully cultivated. But I wasn’t like them. I wasn’t going to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t.

I stood my ground, staring at the security guard, who was still holding JJ like he was some unruly guest.

I watched as JJ shoved the security guard off of him with surprising ease, sending him stumbling into a small group of Kooks, who gasped and looked at him in confusion. JJ, as always, was unbothered. He barely even paused, turning to the security guard with a casual, "Sorry about that," before his attention shifted back to me.

"Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixons, Lani," he called out to me, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he pointed at me. My stomach churned—Rixons was a run-down shack by the docks, the last place my parents or any of the Kooks would ever set foot. But that was exactly what made it the perfect place for us. For the Pogues.

He glanced over at Pope, who had been working behind one of the food stands with his dad all night, and waved him over. "Pope, you as well, all right?" JJ shouted, already backing away, his excitement growing.

"Rixon’s cove. Let’s roll!" JJ finished, lifting his arm in the air like a triumphant leader, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. The way he always made everything sound like some kind of rebellion was a little ridiculous, but honestly, it was part of what made him so... JJ.

Pope, still standing there frozen, blinked at JJ, probably unsure if he was serious. But I knew the look. I had seen Pope wrestle with his conscience before, torn between doing the right thing and the pull of the chaos we always found at Rixons.

JJ wasn’t waiting for an answer. "Alright, Lani, come on!" he shouted again, a playful challenge in his voice. He raised his arm, wrapping it around his wrist like he was trying to make some kind of statement, and then grinned at me. "Workers of the world unite! Throw off your chains!" he shouted, quoting some random revolutionary slogan he probably read on a T-shirt or in a book he barely understood.

It didn’t matter what he said, though. The invitation was clear. JJ was already planning the next adventure, the next way to escape this fake world of perfection that we had to keep pretending we belonged to. The night was still young, and as much as I tried to ignore the consequences, I found myself looking at him with that familiar urge to leave everything behind.

The tension in the air was thick, my parents' voices rising behind me, but I didn't care. My mom's hand reached for my arm, her grip firm as she tried to pull me back.

"You can't hang around these kids—" My dad's voice cracked through the chaos, but I couldn't take it anymore. I yanked my arm out of my mom's grasp, my heart pounding.

"I'm sorry," I muttered under my breath, though I wasn’t sure I meant it. The words sounded empty. I could hear my dad yelling after me—"Hey! Hey!"—but it only spurred me on. My mom's voice echoed in my ears too, a warning, but I kept pushing past the crowd, making my way toward the edge of the party.

John B, JJ, and Pope were already making their move. John B was standing just a few feet from JJ, his eyes scanning the crowd, but I didn't care. My eyes were locked on JJ, and as I sprinted toward him, I could feel the weight of everything I was leaving behind—the judgment, the expectations—falling away.

JJ saw me coming, a grin spreading across his face. He didn’t wait for me to reach him. Instead, he started walking backwards, arms outstretched like he was calling me to him.

And just like that, I was in his arms, throwing myself at him. JJ caught me easily, lifting me up off the ground with a laugh, spinning me around like we were the only two people who existed. I buried my face in his shoulder, laughing too, feeling the rush of freedom in my veins as he twirled me around.

For a moment, everything was perfect—no fake smiles, no Kooks, no pressure. Just us. Just the Pogues. We were escaping the world we didn’t belong in, even if only for a few hours.

JJ set me down, still grinning, his hand brushing my hair out of my face. "Thought you'd never get here," he said, his voice warm with amusement. "Welcome to the escape, Lani."

I smiled back at him, shaking my head, but I couldn’t stop the excitement from bubbling inside me. "You know I can't stay away."

As we turned to walk away, I could hear the faint sound of my parents still yelling behind me, but it felt like it was coming from another world. JJ, Pope, and John B were already ahead, moving with purpose toward Rixons. I caught up with them, the night stretching out before us, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was where I was meant to be.

Master list

[wisteria-beach]

But you weren’t mine to lose | J.M

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: Visitng the outerbanks for a summer you meet JJ Maybank and instantly start a summer fling but can it last past august? (based on august by taylor swift, bold italics are song lyrics)

This is an 18+ fic as it contains smut content, fluff, hurt/comfort, happy ending

A/N: reposting this one in honour of august, initially posted 11/07/23!

——————

Salt air and the rust on your door I never needed anything more

Whispers of are you sure? Never have I ever before

The morning sun filtered through the glass patio doors, a gentle warm breeze floating in through the window left ajar. Slowly you blinked your heavy eyelids open, yawning as you rolled over in the soft unfamiliar bedsheets. It took you a moment to remember where you were your sleepy brain confused by your surroundings, you could hear the sound of the ocean in the background waves rhythmically dragging across the shore and it was so vastly different to the sound of traffic you heard from your window back home that for a second you thought you must still be dreaming. Then your brain finally caught up and you realised it was no dream, you were in the outer banks - paradise on Earth and you would be for the entirety of august, a blissful summer dream.

You sighed contently, infinitely happy that your dads job had dragged you somewhere so warm and sunny for once. Your moment of peace didn’t last long as you were abruptly startled by the sound of a sleepy snore beside you. Your head whipped to the side lightning fast as you took in the blonde boy sleeping beside you, he looked so peaceful and as you stared at him memories of last night came flooding back…the kegger party on the beach, meeting all those strangers with kind eyes and wild stories, the sticky taste of the malty beer from the cheap red solo cup and finally him. JJ Maybank. The boy who passed you the first cup of beer handing it over with the warmest smile you’d ever seen, the boy who gave you a clumsy mock bow when you told him you were just visiting the island and welcomed you to paradise on earth as he promised to show you around. You’d giggled and the rest was a hazy blur, something about him promising to show you all the best that obx had to offer and then a lot of dancing with your bodies pressed close together by the intoxicating heat of the bonfire.

You could smell the heady scent of his skin and you pressed your face to his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. In the present your fingers rose up to your lips almost as if you could still feel the soft kisses he’d pressed to them at the end of the night, as if you could still taste the warmth of his lips. He’d taken you home or at least to his friend's place where he was staying because it was way too late to make the trek back to your Airbnb. “I’m a gentleman” he’d assured you and offered to take the floor but you’d only giggled and patted the bed beside you, you swapped secrets in the cover of darkness and before long his lips had found yours again and it felt so right, so perfect that everything else just followed.

“Are you sure?” He whispered his eyes checking yours as his hands moved to untie your bikini top. You nodded, and he expertly untied it, the scrappy fabric falling away. He was so gentle, so sweet with his lingering kisses and soft touches making you come undone over and over alongside his encouraging praises that you had no regrets for what had happened even though you’d never expected that you’d lose your virginity to a stranger. You’d never done that kind of thing before, going home with a guy, but there was just something about JJ that was so intoxicating that he pulled you in from the very start.

For longer than you’d ever care to admit you watched him sleep, knees drawn up to your chest and eyes wrapped tightly around yourself, just wishing that this moment could last forever because you didn’t know how he would feel when he woke up. Would he still want to kiss you when he wasn’t buzzed from alcohol? When the soft orange glow of a bonfire wasn’t lighting up your face? When the morning washed over the night and took with it that magic you’d felt at the party? You weren’t sure you wanted the answer to those questions, you wanted the memory of last night to remain perfect and untainted by the reality of life.

Outside the wind picked up and the birds began to chirp their morning song, you stole one last look at JJ, pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering a thank you for last night before gathering your things and tiptoeing out of the room. You almost tripped over John B who was passed out near the bathroom floor and you chuckled to yourself throwing a blanket over his body before grasping ahold of the rusty door handle and stepping out into the fresh morning. Salt air filled your nostrils and you walked slowly back home carrying your shoes. By the time you were back you had just enough time to sneak into your room before your parents awoke and you collapsed onto the bed, memories flickering through your mind like embers in a fire.

do you remember?

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car"

And then cancelled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all

"Meet me behind the mall"

Your insecurities that morning had been unfounded because the very next day JJ was asking all over town for you, his mind overflowing with thoughts of the girl who’d captured his attention in a single night and left him in the morning without so much as a number on the nightstand. He wanted to see you, wanted to talk to you again the way he’d done that night, he’d never had such an instant connection with someone and he ached to feel that again.

“Give it up JJ” Kie said on the second day of him asking locals if they’d seen you “she’s obviously not interested.”

He scowled at her, not dignifying her comment with a response. Things had been tense between the two of them ever since last semester when they’d hooked up at a party. It took a month of drunken hookups and stolen glances for JJ to realise that while he’d fallen irrevocably in love with Kiara she’d only ever seen it as a bit of fun between friends - a fact she had harshly reiterated to him. He didn’t want to think about her right now, he didn’t want to look at her face with the painful sting of rejection. Instead he wanted to think about you, the pretty touron who acted like a standard obx party was the greatest thing in the world, who’s eyes lit up at the sight of the ocean, who’s smile had glowed in the darkness of the bedroom in John B’s house while talking about how free being on the island made you feel in comparison to the city.

Then as though you read his mind there you were just an hour later, wandering down the street adjacent to the red light he’d just pulled up at. Quickly he rolled down the window “hey stranger” he called out immediately cringing at how awkward the line sounded but you smiled, the sun soaking into your hair making it shine as you turned to face him.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

At that moment the red light turned green, the car behind honked impatiently and JJ made a split decision “wanna get in?”

Without giving yourself time to overthink it you nodded, jumping into the passenger seat. This summer was all about doing things you wouldn’t normally do, stepping outside of your comfort zone and living in the moment and if that just happened to include beautiful blonde haired boys with breathtaking smiles you weren’t going to take that for granted.

You drove around for an hour satisfied in the little catch up and surprised by how easy it was. There was none of the awkwardness you’d expected seeing him again apart from the moments you’d find yourself staring at him as he drove one hand on the wheel, the other on the back of your seat as he made a turn and your mind would go back. You remembered the way he’d whispered in your ear, the way he’d told you to cum for him and held your shaking legs, kissing away your moans and your cheeks grew warmer, your eyes averting to look out of the window to avoid his gaze.

This time when you parted ways you gave him your Airbnb houses phone number, practically beaming with happiness as you left his car. You said no to hangouts with others you’d met on the island and cancelled family game night all just in case he’d call and finally, finally after two days of waiting the phone rang “meet me at the harbour?”

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

The rest of the month went exactly like that first night on the beach. The pogues quickly became your friends and every waking moment you could would be spent hanging out with John B, Sarah, Pope, Kie and most importantly of all JJ. The days were filled with the warmth of the sun on your skin, the perfect breeze in your hair. It was boat rides and swimming with parties and laughter that never seemed to end. Though you thought that the evenings and the nights were even better because then it was just you and JJ.

You’d watch the sun go down, swearing you’d never seen sunsets as beautiful as you did in the obx. Then as the warmth of the orange sky bled into a hazy purple and eventually an endless midnight blue dotted with thousands and thousands of stars and you’d talk for hours about everything and nothing all at once. You told him about your stifling life back home and he told you about his life and his dad, showed you that the grass wasn’t always greener in paradise and trusted you with secrets he’d always kept within - his worries that he wasn't good enough, that he dragged his friends down, that he was destined to end up like his father. You listened to them all, shared insecurities of your own and then reminded him of the man you had come to know, who he really was outside of what he thought of himself. The amazing guy who’d consumed your heart and mind whole.

Then when the night was still and there were no sounds but the ocean threading around the rocks he’d kiss you like it was the last time he ever would, kiss you so desperately with so much want that it made you ache for him, made you feel like no one ever had and he’d lay you down on a crocheted blanket in the back of the van and make love to you under the stars or in his bed away from prying eyes, bodies curled together under the soft sheets.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” He murmured into the dip of your hip as his lips dragged soft kisses down your stomach.

“And you’re a tease” you replied breathlessly, hips twitching as he traced a line around the edge of your bikini.

“Only because you’re so pretty when you squirm sweetheart” he said, smirking when you dipped your burning cheeks into the pillow, hiding your face from the compliment.

He shuffled positions and pulled your bikini to the side exposing you to the cool night air, the sensation amplified by the heat of his breath over your core right as his hands pulled yours away from your face. “Let me see your pretty face when I make you cum baby” he said, guiding your hands to his hair and pressing the softest, teasing feather light kiss to your clit, his cock twitching when your hands tightened in his hair and your hips jumped.

“Please” you whispered.

“Please what?” He asked, index finger tracing a line across your inner thigh making your hips jump at how close he was to where you needed him most.

“Please JJ” you begged “please I need you.”

He swore he’d never heard a sound as beautiful in the world as his name falling from your lips in such a breathy, needy whisper. He could never get used to it, the feeling of being needed not just wanted. It was something he’d never had with Kie, sure she’d wanted him in the moment but he could have been anyone, the way you said his name made him feel like you’d only ever wanted him.

“JJ” you whispered again, hands threading through his blonde locks “please.”

“Anything for you baby” he said “anything at all” and then he finally, finally pressed the flat of his tongue against your clit dragging it slowly up in the way that made heat coil inside of your hips, fire rolling through your body while your eyes rolled back.

He held your hips down, pushing your legs over his broad shoulders so you couldn’t try to close them and used his thumbs to spread your folds apart pushing back the hood to expose your swollen clit even more before leaning forwards to gently suck on it.

“JJ” you gasped, hips moving down to grind on his face on instinct. His hips ground against the bed as he ate you out so turned on by the way you pulled harshly at his hair without even realising what you were doing. He grazed your sensitive bundle with his teeth before dipping his tongue into your fluttering hole and slipping a two of his thick fingers inside. The way he expertly curled them at the same time that he sucked softly on your clit had the pressure building up inside of you and your vision swimming.

“Look at me” he murmured but your hazy mind didn’t register his words. He curled his fingers upwards, pressing into the sweet spot inside of you “I said look at me.”

Your head dropped down, eyelids heavy as you struggled to stop them fluttering shut.

“I want you to see who makes you feel this good” he told you and you nodded, legs shaking as his fingers continued to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please” you said your voice a broken whimper, trailing off as you stared at him with doe eyes.

“Hmm?” He asked and you whined prompting him to thrust his fingers a little harder “c’mon sweetheart use your words, please what?”

“P-please can I cum” you asked, face burning with shyness “please JJ, need to cum.”

“Good girl” he praised you “c’mon let go for me then, you can cum.”

A wave of relief washed over you and the second his tongue reconnected to your bundle of nerves you slipped over the edge into bliss, stars bursting in your eyelids as you gripped the soft sheets tightly, riding out your high.

It was an explosion of never ending bliss but then that was what every single moment with JJ this summer had felt like, not a single dull second.

Your back beneath the sun

Wishin' I could write my name on it

Will you call when you're back at school?

I remember thinkin' I had you

The morning light was hazy and weak as it dipped through the thin curtains in JJ’s bedroom and you traced the path it threw over his back, fingers dipping into his muscles, sliding over every line and scar.

“That tickles” he murmured into the pillow, his voice deep and gruff with sleep. It brought a smile to your face and you replaced your fingers with your lips pressing a sweet kiss to the soft skin of his shoulder.

“Sorry” you whispered and he rolled over lacing his fingers with yours, faces close enough that you could see a thin smattering of faint freckles dashed across his nose, like flecks of paint from a paintbrush.

Without warning he flipped you over, pressing your face into his pillow and you squealed, questioning him in between giggles “JJ! What are you doing?”

He flipped up the shirt you were wearing, borrowed from him and began to trace a lazy pattern on your sunkissed back. “Did you ever play that game as a kid?” he asked “the one where you have to guess what the other person is writing?”

You turned your face to the side on the pillow and nodded, briefly distracted by the way that the sheets smelt like him, a comforting mix of fresh linen and sandalwood, sea salt and beach air.

He began to trace a light pattern onto your skin and you giggled as his fingers tickled.

“What am I writing?” he asked and you shook your head laughing.

“I - I don’t know fuck that tickles! JJ!”

“You got it” he said and stopped tickling you.

“Huh?”

“JJ, I wrote JJ.”

You grinned “writing your name on me? Anyone would think you’re trying to claim me, Maybank.”

He leaned over, hot breath mixing with yours “maybe I am” he teased before crashing his lips into yours.

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

The cheap wine tasted like crap and washed down even worse from the plastic cup but you drank it regardless, the party was in full swing and you wanted to feel the buzz you’d missed out on when you’d declined the joint.

“Let's go skinny dipping!” someone shouted and you laughed looking at JJ beside you.

“What do you say?”

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the pulse point just below your ear before pulling back and grasping a hold of your hand “I say…what the hell do we have to lose?” and then he was running towards the sand tugging his shirt and shorts off haphazardly on the way.

You giggled as you struggled to catch him up, kicking up storms of sand as you ran after him. On that warm august night you were young and infinite and it really did feel like you had nothing to lose.

Back when we were still changin' for the better

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

“Do you ever feel like you’re just too fucked up to change?” it came out as a whisper, his voice low and it broke you to hear it.

You reached out and gently held his hand, the knuckles bruised from where he’d hit Rafe Cameron on the beach, his head was in your lap and you brushed a lock of blonde hair back from his eyes “you’re not fucked up.”

He shook his head “I am, sometimes I think everyones right and I'm gonna end up just like my dad, a lowlife in jail or worse.”

You brought his hand up to your lips and tenderly kissed the dark violet bruise “JJ Maybank you could never be him.”

A tear bloomed in his eye and he brushed it away with his other hand before it could fall “how do you know?” he whispered “you haven’t known me that long.”

“Yet every day you change for the better…one fight with a guy doesn’t mean you’re bad JJ.”

He sighed “but I promised myself I'd stop doing this, stop punching before I think, stop acting like him.”

You shook your head “that guy was an asshole, he deserved it and you knew it, would your dad care if someone deserved it or not?”

JJ sighed “I guess you’re right…” he reached up and stroked your cheek softly “im sorry im so fucked up.”

“We’re all fucked up…I still want you” you teased.

“Is wanting enough?” he asked, not quite ready to end his moment of vulnerability, he was terrified that one day you’d see how messed up he was and it wouldn’t matter how much you wanted him, it would be too much - he’d be too much just like he’d been too much for Kiara.

“For me it is” you assured him “it’s more than enough.”

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

You weren't mine to lose, no

“He’ll always be mine.”

Kie’s last words to you echoed around your brain, how could you have been so stupid? Of course JJ had been in love with Kiara, she was beautiful and outgoing, smart and funny. Kiara Carerra had everything you wanted and now it seemed she would have him too. You couldn’t figure out why she’d tell you this now, the end of August. Did she know that you wouldn’t be able to let him go even when you went back home? Did she want you to know he’d always be hers? That he was hers before you even arrived and he would be long after you’d gone?

You’d thought she was your friend but then you’d also thought JJ would never lie to you yet he’d never told you about his past with her. You set off to the chateau carrying your heart on your sleeve, needing to hear the truth from his own lips to make it real. You could hear his voice drifting from the open window as you approached the house.

“Be honest with yourself man” John B said and JJ sighed.

“Truthfully? I love her…I fucking love her.”

Your heart clenched, was it possible he was talking about you? Could he really love you? But it all came shattering down at the next word to leave his mouth “Kie.”

You felt sick and you turned on your heel running from the house without knocking or alerting anyone to your presence. Tears blurred your vision as you thought about how you’d lost him and as your mind cruelly supplied “he was never even yours to lose.”

Had his heart belonged to her all summer long? Had he dreamed your lips were her lips as you kissed in the sand? You’d given him everything and the betrayal cut deeper than any wound had before.

________________

John B sat across from him on the old worn couch, staring up at him with pity in his eyes “I know she’s going home soon” he said “I can see that's tearing you up but you’ve gotta be honest with yourself man.”

JJ sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes as he paced around the room “Truthfully? I love her…I fucking love her” he couldn’t bear the thought of not having you here every day.

At that moment the door to the kitchen opened and JJ looked up in surprise “Kie” he said “how did you get in?”

“The back door…listen JJ we need to talk.” Kiara looked at John B “can you give us a moment?”

Confused, John B nodded “sure.”

JJ listened as Kie spoke, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Why now?” he asked “Kie I waited for you for months…months and you always said you’d never felt that way for me.”

“I just didn’t realise it at the time…I wanted to be with you but there was just so much else going on and I didn’t want it to fuck up the friend group on top of that”

JJ clenched his hands at his sides “so what you’re saying is wanting me wasn’t enough?” he thought back to your words on the night he got into that fight with Rafe, thought back onto how things had always been so easy with you, so sweet.

“I've moved on,” he said icily, “please respect that.”

“JJ -” Kie moved forwards touching his arm “come on you know its always been us.”

He shook his head “I love her, Kie I love her.”

Kiara’s mouth became a tight line as she turned away from him “whatever” she said “waste your time on her…I already told her about us so…”

He was out of the door before she could finish her sentence. He didn’t know what she’d told you but he knew he needed to set the record straight before he lost you, he regretted not telling you about him and Kie. Logistically he knew that he should have told you from the very start but everything was so fresh and then everything was so perfect and selfishly he didn’t want to risk ruining it.

He reached your Airbnb not caring that it was late and he could wake your parents up but you were gone and what your neighbour told him left him devastated “she left to get the last ferry out.”

His lungs burned as he ran and ran all the way to the pier. He was covered in sweat, his shirt sticking to his skin but he didn’t care, all he cared about was making it before you left. The sun was setting on the horizon as he finally arrived, and it shone like diamonds on the surface of the water, orange, red and pink blurring into one another. He stood on the empty pier and watched the ferry take you away, watching his heart leave with it.

He didn’t even know your last name, didn’t have your phone number, you’d thought it was romantic at the start of summer deciding to do things the old fashioned way but now it just felt stupid. How would he ever be able to find you? He watched you disappear from him until the ferry was just a speck at the edge of the sea, until tears blurred his vision and he couldn’t see anymore. His shattered heart cut him up like a thousand knives but he couldn’t bring himself to look away or close his eyes knowing it would only take him back to the start of summer and that first taste of your enchanting lips. He remembered shouting something that night before a drinking game “what do we have to lose?” it had been somewhat of a mantra throughout the summer, a chant into spontaneity. Now he thought back on it and realised he’d lost the one good thing he had…it turned out that in the end you were his to lose.

For the hope of it all

For the hope of it all

(For the hope of it all)

(For the hope of it all)

One year later

The boat pulled into the harbour and you closed your eyes silently praying that you would survive this month. A whole year and you’d still not been able to forget him and now you were supposed to spend a month in the obx again? You weren’t sure you’d be able to do it, the memory of him lingered across the whole island, but your friends had insisted it would be a good idea. “For closure” they’d said and eventually you’d agreed if only so that they’d stop nagging you.

Stepping off the ferry you breathed in the salty air, last august coming back to you like a tidal wave. The memories felt so real that you could have sworn you could still smell his cologne in the air, the way it had mixed with your vanilla perfume. It felt so real you almost believed you could actually hear his voice except your imagination wasn’t that good.

“Y/N…”

You opened your eyes and to your utter disbelief he was standing there before you. A year older but still the same JJ, the same slope of a nose you’d traced a million times, the same crooked smile, the same eyes that were the colour of the sky on the brightest day.

“JJ?” you breathed seeing him before you made all the feelings come back and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to rush into his arms or slap him, all you knew was you missed him so much it hurt.

He rubbed a hand across his face, features twisted with disbelief and awe. For an entire year he’d lived with the hope that he would see you again despite believing he never would. You standing in front of him right now, completely by chance on the day he was at the docks, had to be a sign - it had to be.

“I need to explain some things to you” he said “I - If you’re still interested in listening.”

He’d broken your heart but for some inexplicable reason you found yourself nodding yes, this was still JJ, still the boy who at one point in time had been all you needed. “I -” you paused, closure “I'd like that.”

You sat in the cafe for hours, knees drawn up to your chest sipping a soda. After he explained it all and you realised the misunderstanding you regretted leaving more than ever but he assured you none of it mattered now…August could slip away into a moment in time but you two had forever.

[poguelandiarp]

Welcome to the Outer Banks; paradise on earth, its the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. Our mission is to have a good time all the time. Join the kooks or the pogues in this obx inspired adventure. In this semi-plotless rpg there KildareGossip is reporting on every move the residents make. Can you keep your secrets from being exposed? **Taking place after the events of season two, if you're choosing canon characters the only thing that changes is everyone is aged up to at least 21.**

🤟Join Poguelandia today!

[deadpcnned]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ welcome to the outer banks ࿐

╰┈➤ ❝ paradise on earth ❞

series!

sealed by the storm ⁀➷ jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

[obxstories90]

Ocean Eyes Masterlist

[I do not claim to, nor do I own Outer Banks; the concept, characters, plot, etc. All gifs used in each chapter of this series are not mine, and will be credited in each chapter.]

Pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader Genre: drama, action/adventure, romance Warnings: swearing, violence, domestic/physical/mental abuse, fights, mentions of sex, drug and alcohol use, weapon use

last updated: 11/29/2024

SEASON ONE

The Outer Banks: Paradise on earth. Or so you thought. When a series of unusual events occur on the island, you and fellow pogues embark on a mission to find John B's missing father. In the process, secrets are revealed and a romance blooms.

Chapter Zero (prologue)

Chapter One: Pilot

Chapter Two: The Lucky Compass

Chapter Three: The Forbidden Zone

Chapter Four: Spy Games

Chapter Five: Misummers

Chapter Six: Parcel 9

Chapter Seven: Dead Calm

Chapter Eight: The Runway

Chapter Nine: The Bell Tower

Chapter Ten: The Phantom

SEASON TWO

After your friends, boyfriend and the entire world believed you, Sarah and John B are dead, the three of you manage to make it out of the storm alive. During the chaos of searching for food and refuge, a captain tries turning you all in, all whilst continuing the hunt for the gold.

Chapter Eleven: The Gold

Chapter Twelve: The Heist

Chapter Thirteen: Prayers

Chapter Fourteen: Homecoming

Chapter Fifthteen: The Darkest Hour

Chapter Sixteen: My Druthers

Chapter Seventeen: The Bonfire

Chapter Eighteen: The Cross

Chapter Nineteen: Trapped

Chapter Twenty: The Coastal Venture

SEASON THREE

After washing ashore on a deserted island, you find yourself in a race against time for the treasure, running for your life -- literally. Will things go the way it's all planned? Or will it be a trap to step you once and for all. Either way, it's you and the pogues against the world -- and the only way out is together.

Chapter Twenty-One: Poguelandia

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Bells

Chapter Twenty-Three: Fathers and Sons

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Diary

Chapter Twenty-Five: Heists

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Dark Forest

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Happy Anniversary

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tapping The Rudder

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Welcome to Kitty Hawk

Chapter Thirty: Secret of the Gnomon

SEASON FOUR

During the midst of setbacks of financial issues, you and the other pogues' take Wes on his offer for a whole new adventure. However, you are all forced to question the past, present and future all while racing the enemies to the treasure -- how much are you all willing to risk?

Chapter Thirty-One: The Enduro

Chapter Thirty-Two: Blackbeard

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Lupine Cordairs

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Swell

Chapter Thirty-Five: Albatross

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Town Council

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Mothers and Fathers

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Decision Day

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Storm

Chapter Forty: The Blue Crown | Alternate Ending

[kildarehqs]

welcome to kildare island!

the outer banks, paradise on earth. it’s the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. two groups, one island, one long rivalry. this is a rp based off the show “outer banks” with a twist! kooks are the wealthy ones that live on the north side of the island, while pogues reside on the south side and actually have to work for a living. even though they live on the same small island, it seems as though there has been a feud between the kooks and the pogues since the beginning of time. tourists come and go and rarely know what the fighting is all about. t he three groups are very different, but they do all have one thing in common: they all have secrets they would really rather keep. secrets that are now being exposed. with all the tension on the island will the groups finally band together, or will this drama further tear them all apart?

kildarehqs is a 21+ oc discord rp based on the show outer banks, but with a secrets twist. come check this group out!

[urbanrise]

Discover Your Dream Home in Bangalore with Urbanrise!

Are you on the lookout for your perfect residence in Bangalore? Your quest ends here! Urbanrise, acknowledged as one of India's premier real estate developers, unveils an enticing array of upcoming projects in this vibrant city. These properties, adorned with state-of-the-art amenities and contemporary designs, are sure to captivate your senses. In this article, we welcome you to explore the intricacies of the diverse Urbanrise Bangalore projects and discover why they stand as lucrative investments. So, take a deep breath and prepare to uncover your new haven in the heart of Bangalore!

Pricing Insights for Urbanrise Bangalore Projects:

Explore our pricing structure:

4 BHK Villa: 2472 Sq.ft - 2526 Sq.ft - Rs. 2.88 CR to 2.92 CR

4 BHK Villa: 2647 Sq.ft - 2715 Sq.ft - Rs. 3.10 CR to 3.21 CR

4 BHK (+) Home Office (+) Maid Room: 2972 Sq.ft - 3009 Sq.ft - Rs. 3.53 CR to 3.56 CR

Urbanrise Bangalore Projects offer a diverse range of affordable housing options designed to cater to the needs and budgets of various buyers. The pricing of these projects varies depending on factors such as location, size, and the range of amenities offered by each project. However, one thing remains consistent - Urbanrise Whitefield maintains competitive prices while upholding quality standards.

Take, for example, consider their upcoming project in Jakkur, which offers 2 BHK apartments starting at only Rs. 50 lakh, while their ongoing project in Whitefield showcases 3 BHK apartments priced at around Rs. 1 crore.

Beyond reasonable pricing, Urbanrise facilitates flexible payment plans, making it simpler for buyers to realize their dream of homeownership.Various financing options are accessible, encompassing home loans from major banks and NBFCs offering attractive interest rates.

Furthermore, investing in an Urbanrise City with Infinite Life Project holds the promise of long-term benefits, as property prices are anticipated to rise over time, driven by the increasing demand for upscale housing units in desirable locations like Whitefield and Jakkur..

Urbanrise Bangalore Projects provide outstanding value for money, offering top-quality homes at reasonable prices. They are enhanced by convenient payment plans and the assurance of favorable returns on investment.

Location and Connectivity of Urbanrise Bangalore Projects:

Urbanrise Paradise on Earth strategically selects prime locations in Bangalore for its upcoming projects. A prime example is Sarjapur Road, a swiftly evolving area renowned for its IT parks and commercial centers. The project ensures excellent connectivity to key areas of the city via the Outer Ring Road and NH-44.

Urbanrise Whitefield has also chosen Electronic City Phase II, recognized as one of Bangalore's fastest-growing areas, with numerous IT companies establishing their presence here. The project boasts convenient access to Hosur Road and close proximity to well-known educational institutions, healthcare facilities, and entertainment zones.

The third location where Urbanrise has initiated its project is Hennur Road, positioned near Manyata Tech Park - one of Bangalore's largest employment hubs. This area offers excellent connectivity via the Outer Ring Road and convenient access to Bengaluru International Airport.

In addition to these prime locations, all Urbanrise City with Infinite Life projects are meticulously designed with convenience in mind, featuring proximity to shopping complexes, hospitals, and schools, as well as public transportation options like metro stations. This makes them an ideal investment choice for homebuyers seeking a comfortable lifestyle with excellent connectivity.

[fivelakesinwriting]

FIVE LAKES MASTERLIST TWO

Welcome! To reach my FIRST masterlist (with Out of Character chp. 1-13) as well as all previous requests please CLICK HERE

Please do not interact with my blog, or my stories if you are not 18+.

All characters are aged up to 18 years and most stories will contain at least a bit of smut, or innuendos.

Requests are OPEN for: Joseph Quinn, Joe Keery, Andrew Garfield, Dylan O'Brien, Stranger Things (Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson). * I don't write for OBX at the moment. Feedback is always in style. Leave a comment, send a message!

*I claim no rights or affiliation with Outer Banks, Stranger Things, the creators or original characters. The only things that are mine are the original characters and content listed below.

My work is NOT to be transferred, translated, reposted or copied to any other sites without my permission. That is plagiarism. But you can reblog the heck out of it on here xoxo

Thank you all for your support! xoxo

Under the cut is all stories

BLURBS/SINGLE STORIES

A Night Out (Drew Starkey)

Us Versus Them Chapter Three (Rafe Cameron)

Out of Character Part 14 (Rafe Cameron)

Out of Character Part 15 (Rafe Cameron)

Next to You (Chase Stokes)

Secret's Out (John B. Routledge)

The First Date (Rudy Pankow)

On Time (Dylan O'Brien)

On Time Pt. 2 (Dylan O'Brien)

Drunken Affection (Dylan O'Brien)

Come Over (Dylan O'Brien)

Dylan O'Brien NSFW Alphabet

Fresh Air (Dylan O'Brien)

I Think You Should (Dylan O'Brien Request)

A Picture is Worth... (Dylan O'Brien Request)

Can't Wait (Dylan O'Brien Request)

Around the Carousel (Dylan O'Brien Request)

For the Team (Dylan O'Brien)

Family Ties (Dylan O'Brien Request)

Just Engaged (Dylan O'Brien Request)

Nice to Me (Dylan O'Brien Request)

Surprise Visit (Drew Starkey Request)

Little Black Dress (Drew Starkey Request)

Lazy Love (Drew Starkey Request)

Relaxation (Drew Starkey Request)

Road Trip (Drew Starkey Request)

Bike Ride (Rarry - OBX - Request)

Everyone But Them (Rarry - OBX - Request)

Nightmare (Rafe Cameron Request)

Insecure (Rafe Cameron Request)

The Season of the Witch (Rafe Cameron Request)

Cuddle (Rafe Cameron Request)

First Fight (Barry - OBX - Request)

Soft Touch (Barry - OBX - Request)

The Rules (Barry - OBX - Request)

Bonfire (Barry - OBX - Request)

Promise Ring (Barry - OBX - Request)

Movies and Make Outs (JJ Maybank - Request)

Anger Issues (JJ Maybank - Request)

Pure (Andrew Garfield)

Pure Part 2 (Andrew Garfield)

Pure Part 3 (Andrew Garfield)

Quiet Nights (Andrew Garfield)

The Tie (Andrew Garfield)

Andrew Garfield NSFW Alphabet (Request)

Arguments (Andrew Garfield Request)

When You Come Home (Andrew Garfield)

Primal (Andrew Garfield)

Heart Strings (Andrew Garfield)

Scorched Earth (Eddie Munson)

Scorched Earth 2 (Eddie Munson)

Scorched Earth 3 (Eddie Munson)

Paradise (Eddie Munson)

Kings and Glass Castles (Steve Harrington)

Wicks and Wax (Joseph Quinn)

Six Little Harringtons (Steve Harrington)

Cobblestones (Joe Keery)

Sour (Joseph Quinn)

Man of the Hour (Joseph Quinn)

Prying Fingers {Joseph Quinn}

Lost Time {Joseph Quinn}

Pangs of Jealousy (Joseph Quinn)

Flashing Lights {Jim Hopper} Prologue

Domestic Moments {Joseph Quinn} Request

Time Well Spent {Andrew Garfield} Request

Premiere Night (Andrew Garfield) Request

ORIGINAL WORK (POETRY, PROSE, STORIES..)

Summer Nights (A Poem)

Weeping Willow (A Poem)

1-5-6 (A Poem)

She Made Me Wait (A Poem)

If You Have to Ask (A Poem)

Not Afraid (A Poem)

April's End (A Poem)

Not a Promise (A Poem)

The Dark Space (A Poem)

Inheritance (A Poem)

My Body Is...(A Poem)

Sharp Scratch {A Poem}

[sacredthethreadgvf]

The Keys to my Heart | Josh Kiszka x Reader | Pt. 1

Chapter Warnings: Angst. Swearing. Mentions of drinking and smoking. Mentions of poor mental health and depression. 18+ mentions of sex.

Minors DNI.

(if i missed anything PLS let me know!)

A/N:  Okay its here! I'm super excited for how this story will go! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter! Talk to me about it, share your thoughts, suggestions, anything :) I changed this to a slow burn fic so I hope you all enjoy! Also I edit my own work so apologies in advance for any mistakes.

Word Count: 5.3k

The Florida Keys. Actual paradise on earth. Not that outer banks shit. Not that there's anything wrong with the outer banks mind you. The keys were just, well, prettier.  I mean we are talking crystal blue water, palm trees, a balmy 85 degrees in the winter, white sandy beaches, I could go on but I'll spare you the details for right now. You always loved the Florida Keys. You and your parents had been going there to escape the rough Michigan winters ever since you were in middle school and more often than not, spend a few weeks down there as well during your summer breaks. Your family was always accompanied by your next door neighbors, the Kiszkas whenever you came down here, usually renting a house on the beach for one week out of the year. You were close with the Kiszkas, the twin boys to be exact, Jake and Josh. When you moved into the house next to them when you were about 8 years old and they were 9. They quickly took a liking to you, calling you their little shadow. You often spent your summers tagging along behind them while they explored the woods, the creeks, and everything nature had to offer to you. Karen, the boy's mom, treated you like one of her own children. Always making sure to drag you along on whatever family adventure they were going on. Whether that was camping out, going to the zoo, water parks, movie nights. It was rare to not have you around. Ronnie soon became like a younger sister to you and Sam, well, like the annoying little brother you always wanted. Since you were an only child being “adopted” into your next door neighbors crazy family antics always filled you up with happiness and made you feel whole. You never had a boring moment in your life. You would spend your afternoons after school with the family doing homework or just simply hanging out. You wouldn't have wanted to grow up any other way. Your families usually spent holidays together too since you and your parents didn't have much extended family yourself. It was nice to have such a big and welcoming family for the holidays right next door.

Once your teenage years started and you began to blossom you became the twins subject for approval with everything. Jake and Josh often asked for your opinions on girls, clothing, hair styles, hobbies, and you didn't mind one bit. You helped Jake get over the fear of his first kiss by being a willing test subject and Josh the fear of stage fright by joining him in the theater as his little sidekick. You always bounced back and forth with crushes on the boys and they, you. You became the subject of a few brotherly brawls which Karen had to break up more often than not. When the band started to form, and you spent most of your days listening in on band practice. Offering opinions here and there for how the boys could tweak their music but never overstepping their musical boundaries. They started to pick up traction when they would perform in Frankenmuth on the weekends and also in the little bars in the Keys as well when you would visit during your summers.Then finally, in 2017, they made their big break. Signing with a record label and gaining quick traction with their EPs. You were so excited for them but couldn't help to feel a pang of sadness when you would travel down to the keys with your parents, the boys’ parents and Ronnie for a week out of the year and they couldn't follow. You missed them dearly but you were so happy for them and plus you were busy with college anyways setting up a life for yourself. 

Which takes us to now for a moment. Here you are sitting on a plane staring out the window at the earth below you headed to the Florida Keys. You couldn't pass up the opportunity when Jake called you late one night while you were studying to inform you that the boys had bought a home along the beach and water in the keys and he invited you down for a few weeks to catch up on old times, parents not included this time around. Of course you couldn't say no to one of your best friends. He even offered to pay for your plane ticket which you fought him about but eventually gave in when he insisted it could be an early birthday present and that he, and the other boys were dying to see you even though you felt a slight pang in your heart at the thought of seeing all of them again. 

Don't get me wrong, you were excited to see all the boys and catch up on old times. All of them except Josh. You were nervous to see Josh. Josh and you were very close to dating before the band blew up and they started touring more. At least that's what it seemed like to you but maybe you were just being delusional. You and him had formed a special sort of bond with one another before the band really gained traction. Late night calls started happening more often than not, there were many stolen kisses in bathrooms at bars, glances across the room, lingering touches that made your skin ignite with fire, one on one movie nights where you would both critique the screenplay and laugh for hours until your stomachs hurt or he would end up comforting you while you both cried to a sad ending. There were even a few secret dates no one knew about. But that's just it. It was a secret to everyone but you two and the world around you. See, you and him decided that with him having his life on the road and the constant studio time he needed when he wasn't touring these days, and you with so much work to do in school that it would be easiest to just keep things casual and not commit at the given time. You know, a simple fling of sorts. Despite that and both of your hesitations to commit to each other, it didn't  mean that you didn't spend a lust filled night together, exploring each other's bodies and taking each other to new heights before he had traveled across the country on the boy’s most recent tour that started 9 months ago. 

But after they left, it was complete radio silence from Josh which sent you spiraling. Did anything you two experienced mean nothing to him? Had all of his romantic gestures and energy he gave to you was just to string you along? Keep you around and as a play thing?  More importantly, what about your fucking freindship?!  You had spent a few weeks after the boys left moping around in your apartment depressed as shit eating ice cream and crying to dumb rom coms just to get over Josh and his noticeable absence from your life now. You weren't sure what you were expecting from Josh after he left. I mean you two never made it official despite your feelings for him that of course you idiotically never admitted to him out of fear and pride. But holy shit, he was just going to leave town and forget you ever existed on this planet after years of knowing him? In this time period you ignored calls and texts from your friends and even Jake and Sam when they would check in occasionally with you to tell you about how the tour was going. Only occasionally would you get drunk and text Josh to try and get a response from him, but you never got anything back and holy shit that made you hurt worse and usually meant that you would spend a day not getting out of bed at all. Your sadness eventually turned to pure rage. Fuck Josh. Fuck everything about this. And hell, if Josh didn’t want to respond to you? Then you weren’t wasting your time responding to any of your friends trying to check up on you.. 

After a few weeks, one of your best friends came over to drag you out of your hiding spot in your apartment and started helping you get your life back on track. You eventually started returning calls and texts to your other friends, including the boys and never bothered to reach out to Josh anymore. But every once in a while on a wine fueled night, you would sneak away from your best friend who practically lived with you at this point to hide in the bathroom to stare at Josh's contact in your phone, debating if you should even call. Most of the time your sadness about basically losing Josh would turn into anger and you would throw your phone onto the counter and walk out of the bathroom. This method worked most of the time but of course it had failed a few times as well and every time you would get Josh's voicemail you would start to cry again. 

One night you broke down and called Jake and told him everything that had happened between you and Josh. You couldn't take it anymore and you needed to know why Josh was ignoring you. Jake sat on the other end of the phone mildly stunned at your admission of your little relationship with Josh. While he was always suspicious of you two whenever you would sneak off in bars together for a few minutes or suddenly you and Josh would stop responding in your little group chat between the 3 of you, he never expected you two to be this intimate with each other. And that night while you choked through sobs he was offering you kind words and encouraged you to take a moment to take a few breaths to prevent you from having a full blown panic attack. You appreciated it more than he knew. That night Jake became your new best friend over Josh between the twins. Jake explained that everyone had been very busy with tour but he noticed Josh had practically thrown himself into the music since they had left which wasn't odd so to speak but it almost like he didn't even take time to breath these days or do anything for himself. Jake said that Josh had even withdrawn from him, Sam, and Danny too and seemed hard to reach at times during this tour which was unlike Josh at all. And even though he had thrown himself into his job basically he was a lot less “Josh” than he had ever been in his life. Fucking hell you missed Josh. Your heart ached at Jake's admission. He was your best friend before anything else and god dammit, maybe you fell in love with him too by accident. Maybe Josh felt the same but you quickly banished that thought when you considered his lack of communication over the last 2 months so far. Yes, maybe you were desperately  in love with Josh, but you didn't want to admit that out loud to yourself or Jake at the moment. 

Then one night, Josh's contact lit up your phone screen while you were out with your friends in a club. To your dismay, you had missed the call due to being out on the dance floor and your clutch which your phone had been sitting in next to a few other friends you had come with at the table, nobody had noticed your phone buzzing wildly.When you went to check your notifications your heart pounded wildly at Josh's contact name and you went outside to have a cigarette and call him back, feeling woozy from both the alcohol and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. As you were about to click his name to call him back, a voicemail notification popped up from Josh. You hesitantly pressed the phone up to your ear and Josh's soft voice made your knees buckle for a moment. “Hey Y/N,” the message started. “Im sorry ive been shitty and haven't gotten back to you. But what we did before I left was a mistake, and I just need some time. I hope you can understand. I don't want any hard feelings but I'm just busy with tour and I cant have any distractions right now. I hope you're good, uhm, Ill tal-…” You hung up the phone before you could even finish the message from Josh. Fuck that. Fuck you Josh. you thought as hot tears pricked your eyes. The anger that you had held towards Josh underneath the surface of hurt and guilt suddenly bubbled over the top. After 4 months of not talking to you at all that's all he says. I hope you're good??? That was a fucking mistake??? You have to literally be joking. You huffed a sarcastic laugh at his voicemail while the tears in your eyes suddenly spilled down your cheeks making the outside air feel colder than it really was. Through your blurred vision you deleted Josh's number out of your phone that night and left your friends in the club that night to go home and be by yourself to enjoy yourself a worthy mental breakdown.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You pull yourself from your memories on the plane from the past few months and focus back on the music coursing through your ears for a moment. The boys have already been down in Key Largo for a week now enjoying some free time after their tour ended a month ago, getting some musical writing in and spending some much needed relaxing time together. You knew they needed it so you of course don't mind coming a week later to join them. Unfortunately, Ronnie was busy with her own college studies so while you were sad you wouldn't be spending any time with her either, you completely understood the circumstances but you wished she would be there with you so you weren't stuck in a house full of 20 some year old men and all their testosterone. Once you had landed, grabbed your suitcase and made your way to your rental car outside in the airport you breathed in the warm slightly humid air of Florida and smiled. The entire rest of your plane ride you decided you weren't going to let your anxiety and anger  about Josh try and bug you too much. You were here to have just as much fun and deserved to relax just as much as he did and god forbid if he wanted to continue to ignore you then fine, whatever. 

At least you still had your best friend Jake, Sam, and Danny. 

You plugged in the new home address and started making your way down from Miami to Key Largo with all of your windows rolled down, hair flying everywhere, blasting music and the warmth of the sun and the air surrounding you. You spent a majority of your car ride trying to picture the house the boys could have bought. You wondered what they were going to do with it while they weren't using it because you've always been more practical than the boys, specifically the twins. Finally pulling up to the front of the house, it was everything you couldn't have even imagined. I mean shit, it looked like a beachfront mansion. The house was pure white outside, typical, you thought to yourself with a slight chuckle. A massive carport was present underneath the left side of the house where a few Jeeps currently were parked. The house was easily 3 stories tall and had a set of big, wide steps leading up to the front door of the house. You reminded yourself to pick your jaw up out of your lap before getting out of your car. This seemed a tad uncharacteristic for the Kiszkas but hey, the boys probably had too much money nowadays to even know what to do with it. And you guessed they may have paid a little extra since the lot of land did not seem to have any close neighbors around. Thank goodness. You know how loud the boys' parties can get, and their band practice, oh and their fights too. 

You parked your car behind the last jeep wrangler and just as you were stepping out of your car you felt a pair of arms grab you from behind. You squealed for a moment, being lifted into the air, once you were set down you turned to see Jake beaming at you.

“Heya sunshine! Long time no see!” He said.

 Sunshine was Jake and Joshs nickname for you as you had grown older. You had taken a liking to wearing yellow during the summer times and the boys agreed that it embodied who you were inside, a ray of sunshine. The nickname always made you radiate a tad brighter too. At least that's what Josh told you.

“Hey Jake! I missed you!” You said wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tight. He reciprocated with the same grip around your waist. When he pulled back you finally got a good look at him. His shoulder length hair was holding a slight curly to it at the bottoms of his locks, probably due to the salty water he had most likely been surfing in and he wore his favorite pair of sunglasses. “This place is uh…big” You said looking up at the carport ceiling momentarily then back out to the road from the small driveway then back to Jake.

 “Yeah, Josh insisted that this was the place. It's big enough that we can all be in 4 separate corners of the house and not hear each other if we piss each other off which is nice.” He smirked at you. 

You giggled for a moment but at the mention of Josh's name you stiffened a little and Jake's smirk flattered ever so slightly. “Have you two talked at all ?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

You shook your head no and looked at your feet, “No we haven’t.”

Jake let out an audible sigh and looked away from you momentarily. “Look Y/N/N, you guys were best friends before anything. Just at least try and talk it out while you’re here? I think he truly feels bad”. You lifted your head at Jake's comment, not sure how to feel, “We will see what happens.” 

You didn't want to bring down the mood of the conversation after promising to yourself not 40 minutes ago that you weren't going to let Josh ruin this trip of yours so you yanked on one of Jake's locks of hair hard enough to break the sudden tension that has made itself present and his head tilted sideways at the strength of the pull. He laughed, batting your hand away playfully. “C'mon sunshine.” Jake said, going to drag your luggage out of the trunk of your rental, and with a pearly white smile that carried up under his sunglasses he said, “let's go see the inside of the love shack.”

Walking up the big white front stairs and up to the front door, your heart caught in your throat for a moment at the butterflies that were whirling around. You were actually about to see Josh in person for the first time in what was almost a year. To be in the same house as him without talking for months after knowing each other your whole life basically. To breathe the same air in a room after you two have spent time breathing each others breaths in stolen moments. And even after sharing a very intimate moment with him. Your feet began to fail you and you fell behind Jake a few steps when your knees started feeling weak and your lungs began to fail you from an impending anxiety attack. Jake opened the door and turned back to look at you. He noticed you fell behind and furrowed his brows again and opened his mouth to say something when Sam abruptly shoved past Jake in the doorway knocking him back into the wall.

“Y/N!!!” Sam yelled, picking you up and spinning you around on the front porch faster than you could even compute what was going on. After a few seconds, you wrapped your arms around his body in fear that you would go flying because he was spinning you so fast.

“Sammy!!!” You yelled back.

 “God i've missed you kiddo!” Sam said, putting you back down on the porch and he rustled your hair.

 “Kiddo? I am older than you Sam!”

 “Yeah but a lot shorter, so kiddo it is.” Sam's hair was back down to his shoulders again but not long enough to go past his shoulders at all which made him look older to you for some reason, along with a shirt similar to Jakes exposing his tan chest. No surprise. He was always trying to keep up with the twins. This made you smile harder.

You huffed a laugh and looked back at Jake who was beaming at the two of you. Danny poked his head out the door next and walked over to you to greet you as well.

 “Hey Y/N/N, long time no see.” You gave Danny a gentle hug back. “Itll be nice to have someone else calm in the house amongst all the chaos” He smirked down at you. “Oh yeah I'm sure these two have been driving you up a wall lately.” You rolled your eyes and laughed.

 When you and Danny separated, you looked back and saw Josh now standing in the doorway by Jake, but not making any movements towards you. Just a small smirk with his hands tucked tightly in the pockets of his shorts.

 Your breath caught in your throat for a moment. He looked good. Undeniably good. His tight curls that he usually sported were now unkempt and messy, almost wild and longer than from when you last saw him. His tan arms seemed to look stronger than the last time you saw him, which reminded you how he had pinned you underneath him that one night while he pounded roughly into you. Your core betrayed you for a moment and you felt a slight fluttering of butterflies erupt. It took you 2 seconds to bring your thoughts back to reality and remember you were unapologetically pissed at this beautiful human being. Fuck this man.He gave you a sheepish smile.

 “Y/N”. he said and bowed his head slightly.

 It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him and the other 3 boys had seemed to stop breathing entirely in that moment, eye flickering between the two of you.

 You crossed your arms, “Josh.” You said curtly. 

He opened his mouth to say more but just as he was going to Jake cut in, “Y/N, let me show you to your room.” 

You breathed a short sigh of relief and broke eye contact with Josh. You followed Jake Sam and Danny back through the front door and into the large foyer and watched all the boys start to make their way up the stairs to the main floor of the house, Jake still carrying your suitcase. 

The only person that didn't follow them was Josh. He still stood in the doorway and waited for you to pass. When you did, he lightly put his hand on your arm and gave you a pleading look. You glared at him and then down to his touch on your arm and pulled away. “Y/N, wait, please.” He started as you kicked off your shoes and took a step towards the stairs. “Can we just talk, Im sorry, I had some time to think an-” 

“And what Josh?!” Your voice rang a little louder than even you intended, maybe it was due to the high ceilings in the foyer of the house but it seemed to echo. 

Josh flinched away from you for a brief moment. “You wanna keep telling me everything was a mistake?”. He looked shocked for a moment and his jaw dropped as if he was going to say something but nothing ever came out of his mouth. You scoffed and rolled your eyes and pulled yourself away from his grip again roughly. 

You turned to start making your way up the stairs to follow the others who were now out of sight in the main part of the house. You turned back around briefly to face Josh and spit more poison his way and you immediatley noticed the already pained expression on his face. You saw his eyes fall to the floor and he hesitated for a moment but then you watched him turn around and walk down the stairs on the opposite side of the foyer disappearing from your sight without another word. You kind of felt bad for a moment. Shocked that that was your first interaction in forever, and the last one you two had with each other you were underneath him while he whispered sweet nothings and dirty words in your ears. No, no, no wait, don't feel bad he broke you, he had no idea what you went through for a couple of months and you had every right to be angry with him. 

“Y/N?” Jake asked. You turned and looked up at him from the bottom of the steps. He had a concerned look on his face. “You coming up?” 

You opened your mouth but realized your throat felt tight from your interaction with Josh so you just nodded your head instead of trying to talk and made your way upstairs.

The main area of the house was massive. From the stairs you could see an open kitchen with a beautiful white marble island and white cabinets with little black bar stools accompanying it. Behind the kitchen sink there was a massive bay window that overlooked the beach in the back and a big white deck with some tables and chairs and a grill. To the left of the kitchen was a big living room with a huge white sectional that looked too pristine to even sit on. There were huge floor to ceiling windows in the living room along with multiple glass doors with white trim that gave you access to the deck, the beach and it looked like a dock as well with a small boat. You made note of how much white was actually in the home itself, I mean everything that was big was white and the sun reflected off of it, it almost made your head hurt a bit.

 “What do you think?” Jake asked, bumping your shoulder to pull you from admiring the house.

“I think its….beautiful here.” you said still admiring all the little details the boys had in the home. No way they decorated this themselves. They either hired someone or bought it this way exactly.

“Wait till you see the boat!” Sam yelled from the kitchen, where he and Danny were in the process of wrestling over the mayo for their sandwiches that they were making. 

You whipped your head back to Jake, “that boat out there is yours?!”

He smiled at you, “Well you know us. We can't have a beach house without a boat. We will have to take you out there sunshine. Maybe tomorrow” 

You nodded eagerly at Jake. “Cmon, let's get you to your room.” He extended his hand to you which you gladly took. 

On the opposite end of the kitchen was a little dining room tucked away with a beautiful black table and black and gold chairs, oh and more floor to ceiling windows facing the beach. Thank goodness something in here isn't bright white you thought. Past the dining room and the balcony in the foyer was a long hallway that Jake led you down. He paused at a room on the left hand side and gestured his hand for you to walk in. The room was, guess what, white. White walls with wood floors. A canopy bed was sitting along one of the walls with a white comforter. One big window with a bench to read on underneath it if you pleased. A simple oak dresser with a tv on the wall, and even a bathroom of your own connected to the room. 

“Wow Jake, this is perfect.” You said looking around. 

He nodded, “I figured you would enjoy the beach views in the morning from the window while you read.” 

You smiled back at him. “Thanks Jake.”

“You know,” He started. “I heard, well, we all heard what just happened with Josh and- and please just go easy on him. I mean we're all here to relax and decompress. I'm not trying to be mean, I understand what you went through too and I know you're still hurting and I can't imagine how you must still be feeling.” He paused to breath and flicker his eyes up to your face to gauge how you were taking this. “But, it would be nice if you two were not yelling at each other the entire time.” 

You nodded at Jake again, “Yeah I know, I'm sorry. I'll get it figured out” You turned to face the big window again in your room admiring the white sand and blue water that was outside. 

“Whatever you're comfortable with Y/N/N, no pressure, seriously. I'm sure it will take you two a few days and I'm here for you but I also have to be there for him too you know? He is my twin brother and I can't pick favorites between the two of you.” 

You nodded again, “I get it Jake. Don't worry.” You offered him a small smile

“Alright” he said with a returned smile.Jake started to head out your bedroom door but paused at the last second. “So. We are having a small beach party tonight to celebrate you being here at 6. Be ready.” 

You smiled and looked at the clock, 330 pm. “I'll be ready.”

A few minutes go by of you unpacking your bag, hanging up a few of your clothing items and unpacking your toiletries to get yourself situated. You took a moment to once again stare out the window at the blue water, watching the white crested waves crash along the sand. You wondered for a moment how the warm sand and salty water would feel between your toes, and the warmth of the sun. Your moment of peace was interrupted but a small knock at your closed bedroom door. 

“Yes?” You asked not moving from your spot. When you didn't get an answer you called out, “Jake?”. Thinking maybe he forgot to tell you something. When no response still came and your heart was hammering in your chest you turned and made your way to the door. Opening it you were met with the white wall of the hallway opposite of you. You glanced down the rest of the long hallway to your right to see if anyone was there or was walking away. But no one was. You looked down at your feet and noticed a piece of white paper with the words “I'm really sorry. Please can we talk?” written accompanied by one of your favorite flowers sitting delicately on top. You rolled your eyes and closed the bedroom door leaving the note and the flower on the floor. Its not going to be that easy, you wanted him to suffer too.

[tanlace]

summary: our story starts with a girl and a boy, their face basked in sunlight as they sipped on daiquiris and, for a moment, it seemed the line between the rich and the poor has faded into stardust (paper can be brutally heavy when it is stained with lipstick).

word count: 2.4k

On that warm August morning, the Island Club had been brimming with life: olive martinis at the bar, sipped-on by joyful women with pinned up hair and pristine tennis skirt; men conversing loudly around the breakfast table, digging the heels of their golf shoes in the freshly-chopped grass, vibrant as ever; teenagers by the clear-water poolside with their (secretly) alcoholic juice and their mouths smelled of weed and berries. The seasonal burst of life dawned upon the island every year, beginning in July and stretching until late-August.

Of course, to the residents of Figure Eight, the country club quickly became the designated summertime hangout spot—where the boys flaunted their family’s newest sports car and the girls plotted their destruction on the tennis field, sipping on bottles of tequila they passed off as water. In reality, that little bubble was a very close equivalent to a glass ceiling, but it was never the satisfied people that saw the misery within the many mundane resorts that passed off as heavens. Though Outer Banks was said to be Paradise on Earth (it was on the sign, for God’s sake), it seemed to be the opposite for many.

JJ Maybank was one of those people. He was but a boy with too much bottled-up anger and a tendency to use his fists for words, and it had been a miracle he even got the job in the first place. The blonde boy was obscenely out of place, and the rich folk seemed to think he looked almost indecent in the uniform. When he rounded the tables, they’d make sure he knew he wasn’t welcomed around the club, wether they showed it with mumbled vulgarities or physically, by bumping into him brutally as he picked up the food from the counter. He grew more and more heinous with the passing days. JJ, being the die-hard Pogue he was, did not particularly enjoy spending his days drowning within people who viewed themselves as superior, swearing uncomfortably in his dress-clothes, and he had begun to lose sight of the surface. If only, he sometimes thought, he was one of the boys in the swimming pool, with jewelry the price of his rent and award-winning-smiles.

He found a certain comfort in the last hour of his Saturday shifts, since he ended at noon and spent the rest of his day slumming it in the South Side, back in his regular clothes, surfboard tucked under his arm. There was thirty minutes left on the clock and he was resisting the urge to rip off his apron and drive off, ruining the perfect garden as he went. Twenty-eight minutes. It was rather calm that morning, and his boss (whom he unsurprisingly despised) was on his second day of vacation in the Maldives, with his wife and three children. So JJ hadn’t received the level of criticism he was usually exposed to, which made him feel uncharacteristically light. Though he craved the moment he’d walk away, it gnawed at his guts a little less.

The sun had swelled and its light was vividly brighter. A girl sat alone at the table by the bar, where a couple of girls were sharing a glass of red wine, laughing loudly and smiling superficially. She had a book in her lap but she was having a hard time focusing on the words, and there was a bowl of split figs in a porcelain plate besides a glass of strawberry daiquiri on the table in front of her. She looked so authentic in comparison to all the others, JJ observed. As a matter of fact, he had been noticing her for quite a while now.

The mystery wasn’t who she was because if there was one thing the population of the Outer Banks knew for sure, it was her Goddamn name. Blair Cameron, she introduced herself to everyone with that pearly smile of hers that put all others to shame. She was the kind to always let people know who she was and where she came from, and omitting her last name during first introductions was something she simply did not do. The Camerons were quite a powerhouse in the Outer Banks, the jewels of the North Side, if you may. A charismatic man, his four children in whom he took tremendous pride, and women that came and went with the seasons.

So, yes, he had known Blair Cameron long before he even accepted the job as unsatisfied waiter. He knew many superficial things about her like how she often took up shifts herself even tho she couldn’t possibly need the money—he heard her once tell her sister, Sarah, that it was more about the concept than the riches. She wanted to be more independent to the eyes of the same rich folks he was avoiding, he guessed everyone had their preoccupations. He also could count on the fingers of his hand all the superficial information, useless things, people spoke of her, like how her favorite color was purple and how she was a madwoman at tennis. How she never wore the same thing twice and hoped to one day take over the family business. How well she could handle her liquor and how easy it was for her to coax people into keeping her company whenever she was lonely.

In the few weeks of him waiting tables, however, JJ had gathered information on her that he supposed not many people knew, or even any at all. For instance, she had begun to slide cigarettes after her mother, over the phone, mentioned that she found it elegant, but cursed herself for doing so every time she sat alone. On the first of July, his first week on the job, JJ stumbled across her devouring a plate of strawberries by the poolside way before anyone had entered the doors of the club. “For good luck!” she toasted, then never spoke to him again. JJ didn’t observe her with intent to harm, not to ridicule her or expose her or such bullshit, but more because he wanted to understand exactly what it was about her that made her so attractive, irresistible to the public, it seemed. She was the life of the party wether she knew the crowd or not, and she had the impressive quality of lighting up a room by simply stepping inside.

Whatever. She had taken too much of his brain. The weather was too hot and a sheer coat of sweat was layered over the nape of her neck. She had finally found the motivation to finish her page and, engrossed in her reading, had signaled for the nearest waiter for a refill of her drink. He was the only one on the floor at that time, so he swallowed his pride and rounded up the table to stand besides her. She looked up at him with emerald eyes, lips curling into a radiant smile. His stomach flipped. Whatever.

“What can I get you today?” JJ asked, trying to remain as professional as he could. His tiny pad in one hand, he tapped the pencil against the paper with the other. Blair noticed his uncomfortable nervousness, but didn’t comment on it.

She held her glass up, French-manicured nails tinkling against the stem. “Refill, please,” she replied. He went to note it down, only to notice that it would be quite useful. Blair Cameron’s favorite drink, he could remember. She chuckled when she paused, looking at him through her lashes. “And get yourself a drink, for God’s sake. You look more hysterical than Wilders, and he’s on his second divorce,” she added, and pointed to a man sat by the bar, wearing a suit and already drunk on old wine (it was not even noon).

“Funny,” JJ mumbled, shaking his head. He drew his jaw tight, feigning irritation. In truth, he quite liked her voice; he believed he could listen to her talk for hours and not get tired of it, which, of course, was not something he would admit to anyone anytime soon. “You know, you’re a lot more creative than those old folks. Their insults are pretty primitive.”

“Well, they’ve lived long enough to cohabit with cavemen, it seems,” Blair said. His shoulders shook with a soft laugh that he had desperately tried to hide, but it only made her smile even more. She put the glass back on the table and flipped her book upside down besides her. “Sit,” she offered, “I’ll get my drink later.”

JJ looked around nervously, making sure that it was him she was talking to. Why would she want him of all people to sit across from her, to converse with. “My shift isn’t done,” he nearly stuttered.

“My father’s best friend owns the club, you’ll be fine. I want company and you seem like the most pleasant person to be around right now,” she insisted.

He hesitated for a minute, then gave in and took up the empty chair. There was a sip left swooshing around in the bottom of her drink, and she offered it to him nonchalantly, as if it was every day that she sat with strangers and let them have the last sip of her favorite drink. “I don’t do fruity drinks,” he declined. In truth, JJ was astonished with how easy it was to talk to her. He expected some type of cold, closed-off brat with a superiority complex and a poisonous tongue. Instead, she was wearing a bright sundress and inches closer to him so that their knees brushed under the square table.

“Try,” Blair insisted. She had a way of being that seemed so, so genuine: she could ask you to shove the knife in your own chest and you would, there was no argument there.

So, as she requested, he did. At first, he found the sickly-sweet taste heinous. He was only ever used to the cheapest of beers, anyway. As he looked up from inside of the glass and searched for her eyes, he found them crinkled shut as she laughed loudly, one hand curled over her chest, fiddling with the pearl hooked inside her chain, and the other stretched out to pull the glass from his calloused hand. “Before you break it,” she had managed between laughs. Suddenly, the flavor became enjoyable and he found himself laughing along, timid smile moulding into wide grin.

Now, Blair knew her fair share about the boy, too. His best friend, John B, worked on their boats and the other, Kie (Kiara for the technical), used to be her sister’s best friend the previous year, right before it all blew up in flames. She knew that he had only gotten the job on a technicality, because the only other person that had applied didn’t show up, and that he lives on the other side of the island with a father known to be a violent drug addict and a spiteful man overall. She could tell that he didn’t like his life and tried way too hard to blend in with the popular crowd, though she could tell he’d rather be secluded, sat by a dock somewhere in the south, sipping on foamy beer and basking in the silence.

Blair was the type of people to never be satisfied, to yearn for everything that she lacked and take for granted the things that she had. Her strong personality made her a rather unpleasant opponent, so she was used to having everyone she had ever met force themselves on her good side by any means necessary. She was a walking nightmare dressed as a vibrant daydream, assuming that everything and everyone is hers to lose. It is a well-known fact that whoever holds the hand of the queen (of the Valley of the Dolls) cannot possibly make it out with all their organs intact. Especially the heart, never the heart.

On that August Saturday, for the first time ever, JJ didn’t run out of the country club just as the clock struck noon. The moment had slipped away into a laugh as their own merged to create a summertime symphony, comforting and ecstatic all at once. They talked for what felt like hours, exchanging thoughts they had never shared with anyone else before, sharing glasses of strawberry daiquiri. Eventually, it had grown on him. She inched closer with every story, and though her cheeks were flushed and eyes brighter than they had been in the morning, she was still so freakishly composed it dumbstruck.

The pair of them was Icarus, flying far too close to the sun, praying they wouldn’t get blinded. And when Blair finally stood up, excusing herself after the buzzing of her phone became insupportable, it was almost like the bubble shattered and JJ was left at the table to pick up the shards of glass, hoping he wouldn’t get cut.

In the vacant room he routinely changed in (mostly so the others wouldn’t come across his things and vandalize whatever little possessions he owned), he tore his apron off a little more delicately than he usually does. He tossed it onto the bench, only for a piece of paper to fall out of the pocket. On it: a number written in bright lipstick. He assumed it was hers, who else could have managed to sneak it inside of his apron without him noticing? He had only let his guard down for half an hour, anyway.

That day would be the first of many, the introduction to the beautiful yet tragic story that was that of Blair Cameron and JJ Maybank. And if someone had told them things would end in flames from the very moment they met, of course they would have believed it. Nothing about the circumstances told a happy, linear story. But, in every lifetime, Blair would have invited him to sit and JJ would have complied. August sipped away like the liquor at the bottom of the glass.

Keeping things under wraps would soon become a sport.

[poguelandiarp]

Welcome to the Outer Banks; paradise on earth, its the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two teams, one island. Our mission is to have a good time all the time. Join the kooks or the pogues in this obx inspired adventure. In this semi-plotless rpg, KildareGossip is watching every move and those who run it are tormenting the residents. Can you keep your secrets from being exposed? **Taking place after the events of season two, if you're choosing canon characters the only thing that changes is everyone is aged up to at least 21. There is an anonymous gossip blog that will leak texts, pop in the townchat, and host numerous events. **

🤟Join Poguelandia today!

[michwritesstuff]

Just For You (The Outer Banks: JJ Maybank)

prompt: “I don’t do that type of stuff anymore.” “Oh really now? When did that start?”

summary: female reader (she/her) x JJ Maybank Y/N had always been a pogue. Thanks to her younger brother, a certain group of pogues had always found themselves piled into her car, that was until John B finally got his license and was able to drive everyone around. Being only two years older than them, Y/N often ran into them at school, she grew up with them. So when she was finally home for the summer, a pogue reunion was unavoidable. tw: slight age gap word count: 750+

Another summer in the Outer Banks, “Paradise on Earth” or whatever the hell John B always called it. Although you were thankful that you had the opportunity to get a scholarship and go to college out-of-state, it was always nice to be back for the summer with friends and family. Driving over the bridge from figure eight to the cut was probably your favorite thing to do while home. Watching the sun set on the water was serene and therapeutic. After dropping your stuff at home, there was only one place you needed to visit.

As you approached the shack, John B’s van sat, parked and tucked away under a tree. Good, they’re here, you thought to yourself. You tried to creep around as best as you could so you could surprise them, but the particularly loud creak of the loose wood board under your foot caught their attention. You could hear their hushed whispers before Kie spoke up, “Who’s there?” “Better not be those fuckin’ kooks,” JJ called out after her. You stepped out from behind the door with your arms crossed, “Now that’s just insulting.” You couldn’t keep a serious face for too long before you broke into a large smile and were dragged in and attacked by welcoming hugs and pats on the back.

You sat down next to JJ as they started to ask you questions about school and life away from the cut. Like he normally would, JJ had rested his outstretched arm behind your head on the couch while you subconsciously scooted closer to him. “So, tell me about what you guys have planned?” They all looked at you skeptically. “What? I know you guys. It’s summer and you really have no elaborate scheme to annoy kooks, or anything?” The silence continued before they all began to look at each other. John B spoke up, “Y/N, how do you feel about a treasure hunt.” You were confused before slightly chuckling, trying to ease the tension. You examined their expecting faces before turning to JJ. He gave you a slight head nod and you turned your attention back to the middle of the group, “Wait, you guys are serious?” There was a chorus of nods and “yeahs!” while you continued to sit in shock. As they explained how they found the shipwreck and their theory about John B’s fathers disappearance and the supposed treasure, you sat in silence. Once they had finished filling you in, they watched you quietly, gaging your reaction. “What the hell, I’m in,” you said. They all cheered hugging you. JJ pulled you into his side, “Yes! we’ll need her smarts,” he said. “Thanks kid!” you replied. You had always called JJ kid, it was an inside joke between the two of you. The idea that age is just a number reigned true with JJ. He was forced to grow up so quickly with his dad in and out of jail all the time, being left on his own. Despite all that, he never let any of it stop him. He was one of the most passionate, loyal and dedicated person you had ever met. So calling him “kid,” seemed to fit, to always remind him that he has people around him who will look after him. He doesn’t need to go through all of it alone.

Sitting in the back of John B’s van, you guys discussed all the clues you had pieced together so far. After the lighthouse was a bust, it was clear that John B would not stop until he found what he was looking for, and you guys as his friends would be there every step of the way. “To lighten the mood,” Kie stated while taking a hit of the blunt. She rested it in between John B’s lips before pulling it away and motioning it to you. You shook your head “No thanks” and she nodded before beginning to hand it to JJ. “I don’t do that type of stuff anymore,” JJ spoke. Everyone burst out laughing and you asked, “Oh really now? When did that start?” JJ looked up at you confidently, “Right now cupcake, just for you!” At that moment you nearly fainted and felt the rush to your cheeks as he smirked at you. Thank god it was dark out, or everyone would see how much you were actually blushing and trying to hold it together. You looked at him for a moment before responding, “Whatever kid,” giving your own smirk in return.

a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours :)

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