[pogueish]

A GOLDEN CAGE IS STILL JUST A CAGE. hello, hello! hopin' y'all have some room for another sarah cameron in your life here in the obx verse. i prefer to write based off the earlier seasons (s1 holds a special place in my heart and is forever my favorite) but i'm open to writing just about anything so long as the plot is exciting & fun! 18+ only please! been writing for over 10 years. haven't done tumblr rp in abouttttt 6 years so i'm kinda a newbie all over again. au portrayals are way more fun than canon. always open to crossovers + making friends!

[girlsets]

SARAH CAMERON + all outfits

[damianshardung]

SARAH CAMERON OUTER BANKS (2020)

[pogueish]

hi hi!!

soooo, i have a lot of replies drafted up. my boyfriend's family has come to visit for NYE so on top of going to a football game, we've been hanging out at their airbnb, going on day trips, etc. i'm pretty much going to be exclusively mobile until tomorrow afternoon!

i just don't want anyone to think that i've forgotten anything. i just truly hate sending replies via mobile & it's a dang pain to get the format right and whatnot when not on my desktop (+ i love including a cutesy edit/icon!!).

i hope everyone has a fun & safe new years!! i'll be back :))

[pogueish]

🍸

sarah wasn’t exactly thrilled about her embarrassingly low tolerance for alcohol, a fact she was acutely aware of as her unsteady feet propelled her across the beach, stumbling and half-running until she practically collided into jj maybank with a whirlwind of laughter, her arms flinging around him as if he were her anchor. “J!!!!!” she cried out, her voice loud and carrying over the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. “i've been thinking,” she began, her words slurring slightly as her laughter bubbled up again, “I kinda wanna go for a swim. do you wanna go for a swim? we should definitely go for a swim!” probably not the best idea to do while trashed, but, shit'll buff.

[pogueish]

she couldn’t quite decide if she was surprised or not that he’d decided to stay, his agreement to drink with her feeling like some kind of reluctant truce. an olive branch wrapped in booze—something they’d both take, another common ground. “dunno. whatever rafe’s got on hand,” sarah admitted with a shrug, her brow arching as she turned to face him fully. with effortless grace, the blonde walked backwards toward the back entrance of tannyhill, her index finger pressing to her lips in a silent plea for him to keep quiet while her gaze remained on his. “just can’t tell anyone. unless…”

she paused briefly, letting her statement linger in the air for a few short moments. “…unless you’re too scared?” she teased, her tone light but carrying just enough of a challenge to spark something. her lips curled into a faint smile, the kind that lingered on the edge of playful and hopeful, like she was daring him to follow through.

her teeth caught her lower lip as she hesitated for a split second, her hand curling delicately around the backdoor knob. with a soft click, she turned it, leaning her smaller frame against the door to nudge it open. she glanced back at him, her voice softer now, almost reassuring. “if it makes ya feel any better, he’s not around.”

[jayjxmaybank]

jj stood there for a moment, the tension between them was thick, like a live wire humming in the air, and every part of him was screaming to just leave before it got complicated. but sarah wasn’t making it easy. the way she’d looked at him, the way she’d teased him with that challenge—he could feel the weight of it, pushing him closer.

“yea, like i'm scared of your deranged brother,” jj muttered with a huff, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he couldn’t tell if he was more surprised at himself for not walking away or at how much he wanted to follow her inside. she had this way of making him second-guess everything, like he was always one step behind, trying to figure out what game they were playing. but she hadn’t backed down, and neither had he.

he glanced at the door she was pulling open, his mind racing with the possibilities of what was waiting on the other side. he wasn’t exactly a stranger to this kind of thing—casual, no-strings-attached, quick fun—but this felt different. he didn’t know if it was that their lives had shifted since the beginning of summer, but there was something in the air now that hadn’t been there before. she could've told him to leave, but instead - she wanted to drink with him. that said something, right?

"is this how you always get people to follow you 'round?" he teased, trying to keep the situation light, even if his heart was pounding a little faster than he cared to admit.

[pogueish]

sarah pushed the door open wider, stepping inside with a natural ease that hinted at just how many times she’d snuck through the back entrance of tannyhill. the cool air inside was a sharp contrast to the sticky heat outside, and as the door swung shut behind them with a soft click, the quiet settled in, heavy and unspoken. she moved across the room with purpose, her steps light as she made her way to the small bar tucked neatly into the corner. without hesitation, she gestured toward the mini fridge, her hand sweeping through the air as if to say help yourself.

“probably some beers in there,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a shrug that rolled effortlessly across her shoulders. “might not be your go-to, but it’s something.” her tone was casual, unaffected, though there was an edge of tension in the way she quickly reached for the vodka bottle. she poured herself a shot, the liquid catching the light as it filled the glass, and didn’t waste a second before downing it in one smooth motion. the burn hit immediately, sharp and searing, but it was exactly what she needed. something to take the edge off, to drown out the hum of tension that seemed to cling to the air between them.

placing the shot glass down with a soft clink, she turned to face him, her gaze steady, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “oh, and for the record, j?” she started, her voice softer now. “i don’t bring everyone here. only people i like.” the words hung in the air for a moment, but she didn’t take them back. instead, she leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms loosely over her chest as she watched him.

[pogueish]

calling him a dick was tempting—so tempting it practically burned at the tip of her tongue. but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. because the truth was, she was tired. so fucking tired. tired of the constant back-and-forth, tired of the fights, tired of feeling like she was always the problem. her dad, rafe, jj, everyone—it was like all she knew how to do was fuck things up, self-sabotage, and argue until she burned every last bridge around her. so, yeah, she needed a drink. she needed the buzz. desperately.

“…yeah,” she finally said, her voice low, frayed at the edges. there was a heaviness in her tone, like all the fight had been drained out of her. his laugh hit her like a slap, sharp as hell, and she rolled her eyes, taking a step back, putting a safe distance between them. she didn’t want to be this close anymore—not to him, not to the tension simmering between them. he was a dick. no question.

“you’re not obligated to join,” she muttered, her voice sharper now, though she still tried to play it off with a shrug. casual. unaffected. cool. like his response hadn’t gotten under her skin. “you could’ve just… said no. would’ve been easier than… whatever the fuck that was.” mockery? had he mocked her?

she paused, her lips pressing into a thin line as she searched for the right words, debating whether to keep going or let it drop. part of her wanted to explain, to crack open the door just enough to let him see why she’d even asked. but no. not here. not with him. not now.

“i just thought it might…” she started, her voice trailing off. she wasn’t going there. no vulnerability. no feelings. she swallowed the rest of the thought and straightened, meeting his gaze with a faint smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “…forget it. come... or don't."

[jayjxmaybank]

thought what? the question nagged at him, but he didn’t dare voice it. he knew it would lead to another argument, one that would spiral out of control, and he wasn’t ready for that—not again. he thought of opening his mouth, but he decided not to. he feared he’d say something else stupid and it made his stomach twist. he’d already pissed her off enough as it was, and a pissed-off sarah cameron was like trying to fight fire with fire. it was never a good idea. he had already threatened to leave, hell, he'd even gotten back on his bike earlier, one foot already on the pedal but something held him back. he couldn’t bring himself to ride away, even when every part of him wanted to escape the tension in the air.

he hated conflict. always had. arguing wasn’t his thing—never had been. he’d much rather keep the peace, make some stupid joke to break the tension, avoid the emotional mess, but somehow, with her, it always seemed to end up the same way. there was always something between them, some spark that set things off, and he couldn’t figure out why. it wasn’t just her—he wasn’t some innocent bystander. he was just as hotheaded as she was. he didn’t like to admit it, but deep down, he knew it was true. she had a way of controlling her emotions, of putting out the flames before they spread, while he, on the other hand, always seemed to fan the fire. the worst part? he didn’t even know why. they were like magnets for conflict, drawing each other into these endless cycles of tension, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to keep going around in circles anymore.

with a sigh, he nodded and bit at the skin of his cheek. placing his hands on his hips, he glanced down at the ground—kicking at the dirt. “aright,” he breathed. “what beer we got?” he asked, lifting his gaze to meet hers, waving the white flag in surrender.

[pogueish]

she couldn’t quite decide if she was surprised or not that he’d decided to stay, his agreement to drink with her feeling like some kind of reluctant truce. an olive branch wrapped in booze—something they’d both take, another common ground. “dunno. whatever rafe’s got on hand,” sarah admitted with a shrug, her brow arching as she turned to face him fully. with effortless grace, the blonde walked backwards toward the back entrance of tannyhill, her index finger pressing to her lips in a silent plea for him to keep quiet while her gaze remained on his. “just can’t tell anyone. unless…”

she paused briefly, letting her statement linger in the air for a few short moments. “…unless you’re too scared?” she teased, her tone light but carrying just enough of a challenge to spark something. her lips curled into a faint smile, the kind that lingered on the edge of playful and hopeful, like she was daring him to follow through.

her teeth caught her lower lip as she hesitated for a split second, her hand curling delicately around the backdoor knob. with a soft click, she turned it, leaning her smaller frame against the door to nudge it open. she glanced back at him, her voice softer now, almost reassuring. “if it makes ya feel any better, he’s not around.”

[indulgentprompts]

Send 🍸 to find my muse drunk.

[tuseririna-deactivated20260203]

OUTER BANKS (2020-) 4.10 The Blue Crown

[likeribbonsinyourhairrr77]

[jayjxmaybank]

the silence that followed his venomous words hung heavily in the air, thick and suffocating. for a moment, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of what she was thinking, hoping to decipher the unreadable expression etched across her face. but damn, when she was this quiet, she was impossible to read. her stillness only made it worse, fueling his unease. he couldn't tell if she was silently crafting a response even more biting than his own, or if she was simply stewing in the sting of his words. that uncertainty gnawed at him, making him hold his breath, as if any sound could shatter the fragile tension between them.

for a fleeting second, he wanted to take it all back—every harsh syllable, every cruel tone. but he didn’t. instead, he stood there, frozen, unable to understand why that impulse even existed. it didn’t make sense. she didn’t make sense. and yet, the way she seemed to defy every one of his attempts to push her away both frustrated and intrigued him. no matter how many walls he built, how many defenses he threw up, she always found a way to pull him back in. he couldn’t figure out if it was a weakness or something else entirely—a dangerous draw that kept him tethered to her, even when he wasn’t sure it was a good thing.

and now, here she was, asking him to drink with her.

okay, now he knew she was insane. he dropped his hands from her arms, shaking his head as he scratched the back of his neck. yeah. insane. he was a dick, and he knew it. for jj to recognize that—without her calling him out on his bullshit, without biting back—that was something. she didn’t fight him. she didn’t escalate. she just… surrendered. and for some reason, that didn’t sit right with him. it unsettled him, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. he kinda wished she did call him a dick, a prick—something. he deserved it.

"a drink?" he echoed her words, as if the idea itself was the most absurd thing he'd heard all night. did she hit her head? he narrowed his eyes, studying her intently. there was something strange about how they chose their words—how they could hurl fire with ease but then falter when it came to something more vulnerable. "you’re askin’ to drink? after that?" his laugh was more disbelieving than anything else, confusion lacing his voice as he searched her face. now he was confused. hell, maybe she was too.

[pogueish]

calling him a dick was tempting—so tempting it practically burned at the tip of her tongue. but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. because the truth was, she was tired. so fucking tired. tired of the constant back-and-forth, tired of the fights, tired of feeling like she was always the problem. her dad, rafe, jj, everyone—it was like all she knew how to do was fuck things up, self-sabotage, and argue until she burned every last bridge around her. so, yeah, she needed a drink. she needed the buzz. desperately.

“…yeah,” she finally said, her voice low, frayed at the edges. there was a heaviness in her tone, like all the fight had been drained out of her. his laugh hit her like a slap, sharp as hell, and she rolled her eyes, taking a step back, putting a safe distance between them. she didn’t want to be this close anymore—not to him, not to the tension simmering between them. he was a dick. no question.

“you’re not obligated to join,” she muttered, her voice sharper now, though she still tried to play it off with a shrug. casual. unaffected. cool. like his response hadn’t gotten under her skin. “you could’ve just… said no. would’ve been easier than… whatever the fuck that was.” mockery? had he mocked her?

she paused, her lips pressing into a thin line as she searched for the right words, debating whether to keep going or let it drop. part of her wanted to explain, to crack open the door just enough to let him see why she’d even asked. but no. not here. not with him. not now.

“i just thought it might…” she started, her voice trailing off. she wasn’t going there. no vulnerability. no feelings. she swallowed the rest of the thought and straightened, meeting his gaze with a faint smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “…forget it. come... or don't."

[jayjxmaybank]

jj had no idea what the hell was going on. this back-and-forth, this twisted game they were caught in, the constant tug between wanting to run and wanting to stay—it was all too much. almost maddening, really. he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the blonde strands near the root, his frustration palpable. with a sharp shake of his head, he tore his gaze away from her, if only for a moment. he couldn’t keep up with her. it was impossible.

muttering a curse under his breath, he let his hand fall to his side—no, it more like slapped down in a mix of snark and disbelief, a half-laugh slipping out along with a smile that was more of a grimace. when he finally decided to look back at her, she was a step closer—almost to close for comfort. “humor you?” he laughed. there was a squint in his eyes. she was pushing his buttons, pushing him to say things he knew he’d latter regret. she knew how much she was frustrating him, how she got under his skin more than anyone else ever had before and she liked it. damn kooky priss. yeah, that’s what it was. it was because she was a kook.

"sure," he said, voice dripping with disdain, "shall i present it to you on a silver platter, miss cameron?" he mocked her status. he locked gazes with her, knowing her well enough to know that she wasn’t going to back down. “jesus,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “you just have to keep goin’ don’t ya? that’s your problem—you love this shit. y’ practically feed off it,” he pull his lips into a thin line as if he were done talking. “hell, you’d probably stand here all night just to run that pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

he held his breath, closing the already narrow space between them. his stance was tall but controlled, his hands settling on either side of her arms as lowered his head towards her. “sorry, princess,” he said, voice low. “your flip-flop crew might be down for that, but not me.”

[pogueish]

sarah froze, the words she wanted to say caught somewhere between her mind and her throat, tangled in the weight of everything unsaid. what could she even say? she knew she was guilty of pushing him too far, of pressing all the right buttons just to watch him unravel. she liked the way he reacted, the fire in his eyes, the sharp edge to his words. but, god, when he threw those little digs her way, they landed harder than she’d ever admit. they clung to her like barbs, stinging long after the moment passed.

there were comebacks dancing on the tip of her tongue, clever and cutting, aching to be said. but the truth lodged itself in her chest like a stone—his words weren't fully wrong. she had this awful, insatiable need to be seen, to be heard, to matter. her family life was a trainwreck, and she was the one left standing in the wreckage, desperate for any scrap of attention that felt like love. that’s why she’d held onto topper for so long, even when she knew better. he was familiar, predictable. safe in all the worst ways.

her chest tightened at the realization, and she hated herself for it. hated that she couldn’t just shake this toxic need. hated that she felt alive in moments like this, with jj’s hands firm on her arms, his voice low and biting but still so close. hated that even now, with his disdain dripping off every word, she couldn’t stop herself from loving the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world capable of driving him this crazy.

she bit at her bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, her doe eyes locked on his, searching for something—anything—that might give her a way out of this tangled mess of emotions. she wanted to ask him what he was down for, wanted to challenge him, push him just a little further. but instead, she stood there, her breath uneven, her body betraying her with its closeness to his.

“i... i need a drink,” she finally managed, the words coming out softer than she intended. she dropped her gaze briefly, letting her eyes trail from his, down the front of his body, and to the ground, breaking the tension for just a second before looking back up at him. “you want one?” her voice wavered slightly, but she forced a small smile, trying to defuse the moment. it was her way to try and extend an olive branch, in some form or another. “i promise not to run my ‘pretty mouth.’ cross my heart.”

[jaymaybnk]

on paper, the idea was a great one. rebuild his childhood home with his five best friends — his family — and fill it with better memories than he had growing up. in practice? not so much. six young adults, three couples,  in a home with paper thin walls made for awkward conversations across the kitchen island the morning after. a lot of the time, they were constantly getting in each other’s space in the beginning. it took a few months but they figured out a good rhythm, a way to coexist without wanting to kill each other. just, not during the holidays. apparently, the stress of the holiday’s had everyone’s nerves on edge and cleo had stepped on jj’s foot one too many times while trying to perfect mrs. heyward’s pie recipe. he had been thrown out of the house. his house. he grew up here goddammit! they were supposed to be creating better memories, not banishing each other from the house for an undisclosed amount of time.

cigarette between his lips, jj could admit that maybe he was being a little dramatic. but it was the principle of the thing. flipping his lighter closed and hunching his shoulders against the chilly breeze coming off the water, the blonde headed toward the hammock, just to see that it was being used already. “cold as fuck,” he said as a response to sarah’s question and a greeting. “you get banished out here too or are you out here on your own accord?”

[pogueish]

sarah arched a brow at his comment, a small, amused smirk tugging at her lips as she shrugged her shoulders casually. “nah, it’s not that bad,” she said, dismissing his complaint with ease. she was perfectly fine out here in just leggings and a sweatshirt, the chill barely phasing her.

she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as the hammock swayed gently beneath her. “me? banished? nah, i’m perfect. no one in there would dare banish me,” she joked, her tone light. but the truth was quieter, more personal. out here, under the foggy winter sky, everything felt calmer. it gave her space to think, to reflect. the holidays had a way of bringing back nostalgia—good and bad. as much as she loved what they’d built here, she couldn’t help but miss the simplicity of being a kid, when the biggest concern she had was whether santa would leave the right presents under the tree. back when the cameron family hadn’t been so broken.

her eyes drifted upward, her voice turning thoughtful. “ya know, cleo’s making that holiday pie…” she let the thought hang in the air for a second before continuing. “we should come up with some fun christmas drinks to go with it. like, oooh, maybe something with a little spice. or cranberry. …or baileys irish cream? i dunno.”

she trailed off, her gaze still on the sky, her words more of a stream of thought than anything else. but there was a spark of excitement in her tone, like maybe these little things could keep that festive spirit alive if they came to fruition. “and we gotta get some christmas cookies, too,” she added, finally looking back at him with a grin. “like, awww, cute lil snowmen or something! really get into it, y'know?”

[pogueish]

traveling to miami tomorrow for a football game (despite zero knowledge of football whatsoever lolllll). i will try to knock out as much as i can tonight but if yall wanna write on discord, hit me up!!! always down for that as well, especially when i cant access tumblr 🙂‍↕️🫶

[pogueish]

the wind whipped through the air, icy tendrils curling around sarah's frame, but the cold was the last thing on her mind. jj's hand had briefly clasped her own, his touch warm and fleeting, and she found herself relishing in that small moment of connection. even the way he scanned their surroundings, like he was worried someone might see, made her heart race. before she could inquire about it, however, his words cut through the cool air and lodged in her thoughts.

her lips curved into a small smile, her shoulders lifting in an easy shrug as she replied, “mmm, I dunno… but it’s definitely not the cold that’s gotten to me.” her voice was light but laced with truth, and her teeth caught her lower lip for a brief moment. finally, she gave his arm the gentlest tug, her fingers curling just enough to coax him closer, her tone dipping into something playfully pleading. “c’mon… please? I don't have cooties or anything, if that's what you're so worried about."

[poguecaught]

❝ feel like we're missin' somethin' here. chestnuts roastin' on an open fire or some shit. ❞ not that he'd be the one to start the open fire, because that would require taking his hands out of his pockets for way too fucking long. his voice was laced in sarcasm anyway, dripping with it so heavily that steam practically billowed from his mouth. ( or maybe it was, because it was so fucking cold outside. )

attempted and failed to stifle a smile, feet shuffling ever closer to her. she looked cute when she bit down on her lip, a move that he knew didn't only make him react. sarah cameron knew how to draw in an audience, kook princess always getting what she wanted for a reason, and while he was typically good at resisting, he craved the warmth. that's what he told himself as he turned his back to her and carefully crawled onto the hammock, his feet swinging once he got positioned. ❝ i dunno, sounds like somethin' someone with cooties would say. ❞ he put his hands back into his pockets, but not before pulling up his hood to protect the side of his head from the chilled wind. ❝ christmas ain't ever been my favorite holiday. thanksgiving at least has good food. ❞

[pogueish]

sarah laughed softly, her eyes rolling in playful exaggeration as a small smile tugged at her lips. “mhm. chestnuts roasting on an open fire, maybe some hot cocoa... oooh, we could make a gingerbread house, too!” she teased with over-the-top enthusiasm. she knew damn well that wasn’t his idea of fun—it wasn’t really hers, either. but when she thought back to christmas as a little girl, that’s what came to mind. gingerbread houses, twinkling lights, decorating the tree, drinking hot cocoa until her stomach hurt, staring at presents wrapped so perfectly they felt like magic. back then, everything was so much simpler. once upon a time, she loved it.

without really thinking, she shifted just a tad closer, her smaller frame leaning in until her head rested lightly against his shoulder. the movement was natural, slow. “thanksgiving’s nice... was nice,” she murmured, her voice softening. the words hung heavy in the air, brushing against the memory of what the holidays used to mean. a time that once felt warm and full of love now felt distant, hollow. the comfort she’d once found in those traditions, in her family, was gone, leaving only echoes of what used to be.

[pogueish]

sarah arched a single brow at his words, the faint glint of amusement spreading across her features as she leaned against the nearest post, arms crossed casually. “ah, wow. my deepest apologies, maybank.” her voice dripped with mockery, her lips curving into a smirk that only added fuel to her teasing. “didn’t realize I was in the presence of an actual sex god. truly.”

her tone was cutting, but she couldn’t entirely ignore the way his words lingered, uninvited, in the back of her mind. jj had always been attractive—that wasn’t exactly a state secret—but the way he spoke, so matter of fact and unapologetically blunt, sent a vivid and completely unwelcome image flashing through her thoughts. she swallowed hard, brushing the thought away like cobwebs, silently cursing herself for letting it creep in at all.

luckily, the subject shifted—to her brother, no less—and it was enough to snap her focus back into the moment. her smirk faded slightly, replaced by a quiet hum as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her wallet. she flicked it open, her movements unhurried, and held it out between two fingers for him to take. the trust she showed in the gesture was subtle but unmistakable.

“take whatever ya need, then,” she said lightly, tilting her head. she was privileged, there was no denying that. “would a hundred do it? maybe two hundred? hell, make it two-fifty if that’s what it takes to make up for it.” truth be told, she was oblivious to just how much money was needed when it came to that type of thing. her brother was the expert, not her. one thing was for certain, though: she was fortunate to be her dad’s favorite, carrying around a wad of cash like it was no big deal.

[poguecaught]

he let out a laugh, short and breathy. ❝ guess y'should do your research before comin' at me then, huh? ❞ he was confident in a few ways, and that was one of them. there was a reason that even the highest of kooks would come up to him at bonfires, wanting a night of rebellion with someone holding a big reputation. when it came to the more complicated shit, he was checked out. but that was something that always came naturally to him. ❝ apology accepted. ❞

jj watched her take her wallet out with an unwavering focus, hesitation clouding his greed. he didn't like handouts. he was good enough to get by on his own without the help of people and their undeniable pity. it was why he was still living in his childhood home despite all the times that john b insisted that he should stay in the chateau. he didn't need help. he was scrappy, resourceful, keeping his house mostly afloat through strenuous labor and hours of manual exhaustion in the summer sun.

this was different though, sarah wasn't pitying him. they wouldn't be in this situation if she didn't go all psycho - kook on him and destroy his joint. so, after the moment of hesitation passed, he snatched her wallet from her hand and began to sort through it. a soft scoff sounded as he examined her driver's license. blue eyes faltered from the cash with her offer, and plucked out a twenty before handing it back. ❝ two fifty? jesus, princess, you're a fuckin' life virgin. two fifty would buy you some clean cut coke, not grass. ❞

[pogueish]

she rolled her eyes almost instantly, his words landing with the same cocky, overconfident arrogance she’d come to expect from him. and god, did it irritate her. she wanted to scream at herself for even letting the thought of being interested in him cross her mind. really, sarah? he was a dick. plain and simple. “right, yeah. i’ll be sure to hit up the desperate, insecure, slutty kooks next time i’m out. get all the deets.” her voice was laced with sarcasm, though as the words left her tongue, she winced internally. shit. had that sounded… jealous? maybe a bit? ...no, definitely not. there was no way.

her brow quirked slightly as he plucked a twenty from her wallet, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. she grabbed it back the second he was done, tucking it neatly into her back pocket as though the gesture could restore some sense of control. “well, i don’t fucking know. that’s why i brought up rafe,” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness slipping into her tone. “he’s the expert, not me. you think i’m out there buying that shit?” she scoffed, but the words felt weaker than she wanted them to. no, she wasn’t totally vanilla, but compared to jj’s world, she might as well have been. she hated the way the thought gnawed at her, making her feel smaller.

her gaze drifted past him, out toward the water, her frustration giving way to something softer. “why aren’t you out there with them?” the question slipped out before she could stop herself, quieter than her earlier remarks but still carrying the weight of her curiosity. she didn’t look at him when she asked, her focus lingering on the endless expanse of blue.

[poguecaught]

standards. his standards included not stooping so low as to be associated with a kook, but she had a point. ( the exception to this rule was a one night stand. no fraternizing with the enemy, but there was no rule about sleeping with them and never calling them again. ) it wasn't like his life was the perfect picture, lacking any hypocrisies. he'd drink beer that'd been opened for three days and sitting on the counter, but drew the line at being seen alone with a kook. made sense to him, but he could see how it would be lacking in theory.

❝ you'd be surprised at how many girls swoon over me, cameron. ❞ the toothpick remained between his teeth, switching over to the side of his mouth with a swipe of his tongue. he looked out towards the water, hoping to see the boat coming back to shore, but all the only sign of life was the birds that were flying overhead. maybe he should've gone with. ❝ chicks are real quick to drop their own standards for a guy that'll actually make 'em finish. i don't even gotta shower first. ❞

his attention was on her the second that she mentioned her brother. fuckin' rafe cameron. a nice reminder of why he was quick to keep sarah at an arm's distance. really, it was a fucking suicide mission to shack up with the sister of the dude that liked traumatizing them for fun and games, but he was apparently the only one to see logic. ❝ nah. you wanna give me some cash, i'll replace it myself. don't need y'er brother goin' around runnin' errands for me. ❞

[pogueish]

sarah arched a single brow at his words, the faint glint of amusement spreading across her features as she leaned against the nearest post, arms crossed casually. “ah, wow. my deepest apologies, maybank.” her voice dripped with mockery, her lips curving into a smirk that only added fuel to her teasing. “didn’t realize I was in the presence of an actual sex god. truly.”

her tone was cutting, but she couldn’t entirely ignore the way his words lingered, uninvited, in the back of her mind. jj had always been attractive—that wasn’t exactly a state secret—but the way he spoke, so matter of fact and unapologetically blunt, sent a vivid and completely unwelcome image flashing through her thoughts. she swallowed hard, brushing the thought away like cobwebs, silently cursing herself for letting it creep in at all.

luckily, the subject shifted—to her brother, no less—and it was enough to snap her focus back into the moment. her smirk faded slightly, replaced by a quiet hum as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her wallet. she flicked it open, her movements unhurried, and held it out between two fingers for him to take. the trust she showed in the gesture was subtle but unmistakable.

“take whatever ya need, then,” she said lightly, tilting her head. she was privileged, there was no denying that. “would a hundred do it? maybe two hundred? hell, make it two-fifty if that’s what it takes to make up for it.” truth be told, she was oblivious to just how much money was needed when it came to that type of thing. her brother was the expert, not her. one thing was for certain, though: she was fortunate to be her dad’s favorite, carrying around a wad of cash like it was no big deal.