rafeobx

[rafeobx]

MASTERLIST

wattpad: @sturnlvrss (sturniolo focused!)

RAFE CAMERON:

SERIES:

wanna be yours

ONE SHOTS:

sue me

the ghost between us

JJ MAYBANK:

ONE SHOTS: run for the hills

[rafeobx]

ILOVEITILOVEITILOVEIT

pair: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

trope: enemies to lovers, secret romance

masterlist

chapter one of WANNA BE YOURS

plot: at a tense boneyard party where the island’s social divide temporarily collapses, clementine slips away from the exhausting us-versus-them toxicity of her friends to find quiet on the dark shoreline. while lost in her thoughts, she accidentally collides with rafe cameron, the ultimate embodiment of the kook crowd. what begins as defensive, sharp-edged banter shifts into an unexpected moment of genuine vulnerability. they share a mutual exhaustion with the rigid expectations of their respective social groups. though they maintain their distance and go right back to playing their parts in the crowd, the encounter ends with a heavy, unspoken look. one that establishes a private secret and a brief, tense truce in the ongoing kook vs pogue war.

the boneyard was always chaotic, but tonight the energy was completely unpredictable because the unspoken borders of the island had temporarily collapsed. it wasn't just a pogue party or a kook party; it was a rare, tense mix of both sides packed onto the same stretch of dark sand. the bonfire roared in the center, throwing long, flickering shadows over everyone, while a massive speaker blasted music that barely drowned out the underlying friction in the air.

on one side of the fire, the pogues held down their usual territory with cheap plastic cups, worn-out flannels, and loud, easy laughter. just thirty feet away, a cluster of kooks stood near a row of pristine, expensive trucks, looking detached and elite in their crisp linen shirts and pastel shorts. everyone was drinking, laughing, and fronting, but nobody was actually relaxing. the two groups stayed separated by a shifting, invisible line, exchanging sharp, territorial glances across the sparks flying up into the night sky. it felt like a single wrong word could set the whole beach on fire.

clementine stood right in the thick of it with her friends, the heavy bass thumping right through the soles of her shoes. they were huddled near the edge of the pogue circle, and the conversation was exactly what she expected: sharp digs at the kooks standing just a stone's throw away, mocking their clothes and their attitudes. usually, she’d join right in, but tonight, staring at the literal divide between the two crowds under the flashing lights, the endless bitterness just felt exhausting. she felt completely disconnected from the people around her, the laughter sounding hollow in her ears.

needing to escape the suffocating weight of the us-versus-them mentality, clementine slipped away from her friends. she walked backward out of the light, letting the shadows swallow her as she headed down the darker, quieter stretch of the shoreline where the music finally began to fade into the steady, rhythmic crash of the ocean waves.

she was staring down at her worn-out sneakers sinking into the damp sand, completely lost in her own head, when she smashed hard into a solid chest.

the impact sent a jolt right through her, knocking her off balance. her feet slipped on the uneven sand, and she started to tumble backward into the dark. but before she could hit the ground, a hand shot out with lightning-fast reflexes, wrapping firmly around her forearm and yanking her back onto her feet.

she looked up, her heart hammering against her ribs, ready to snap an apology. but the words completely died in her throat. standing beneath the faint moonlight, his hand still gripping her arm, was rafe cameron. the literal embodiment of everything her friends were just tearing apart back at the fire and he looked down at her with a clenched jaw. a cold, unreadable expression, completely shattering the quiet escape she had been looking for.

his grip on her arm was tight, the heat of his skin contrasting sharply with the cool night air. for a second, neither of them said anything, the distant thump of the bass from the party the only sound between them. rafe looked down at her, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her face from around the cut.

"watch where you're going," he muttered, his voice rough and laced with that usual kook arrogance. he didn't let go of her arm right away, his fingers lingering just a second too long before he dropped his hand back to his side.

clementine took a step back, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes, trying to regain her footing and her composure. "i could say the same to you. you don't own the beach, cameron."

rafe let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. he looked restless, his jaw shifting as he looked past her toward the bonfire, then back down at her.

"you always walk like you're trying to put a hole through the sand?" he asked, a sharp, mocking tilt to his voice as he looked down at her.

clementine scoffed, taking another half-step back to clear the space between them. "and you always lurk in the dark like a creep? you're lucky i didn't punch you."

"with what?" rafe smirked, looking down at her hands before bringing his eyes back to hers, his posture loosening up just a bit. "those tiny hands? i think i would've survived."

"don't underestimate me, cameron," she shot back, crossing her arms and leaning her weight onto one leg.

rafe tilted his head, a slow, challenging grin spreading across his face as he stepped into her space. "is that a threat, clementine? because last time i checked, your crowd prefers shouting across the beach over actually doing anything."

"we just prefer not wasting our energy on people who aren't worth it," she countered smoothly, refusing to back down even as her pulse quickened. "besides, shouldn't you be busy playing the perfect kook prince tonight? your crew looks lonely without their leader."

rafe let out a dry laugh, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt entirely too heavy for the dark beach. "they're doing just fine acting like total idiots without me. and honestly, i think you're the last person who should be talking about lonely crews. you looked like you were about to lose your mind standing over there."

clementine bit the inside of her cheek, caught between wanting to snap back and wanting to just listen to him talk. it was a strange, unfamiliar friction. she was raised to believe every single person from figure eight was a carbon copy of privilege and arrogance, someone to be hated on principle. but looking at rafe right now, she couldn't find that easy, standard anger. she didn't like him obviously, he was still reckless and way too full of himself, but he wasn't the predictable cardboard cutout her friends always said he was.

he was something entirely different, a dangerous kind of unpredictable that she couldn't quite turn away from.

"i'm not losing my mind," she murmured, her voice dropping the sharp edge of the banter, leaving something much more honest between them. "just tired of the same old noise."

rafe watched her closely, the smugness completely dropping from his expression as his jaw tightened. "yeah," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the space between them before snapping back to her eyes. "me too."

a quiet settled between them, heavy and completely unexpected. the distant bass from the bonfire still thudded against the dark sand, but out here in the shadows, the noise felt miles away. clementine shifted her weight, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing and how easily they had just slipped into talking to each other.

"i should probably get out of your way then," she said softly "before my friends see me with you", trying to keep a hint of that sharp edge in her voice, but it came out sounding much quieter than she intended in the open air.

afe looked down at her, his jaw relaxing just a fraction. a faint, almost imperceptible shift crossed his face, though his eyes stayed serious and fixed on hers. "yeah. and i should probably get back before people start looking for me, too."

he took a slow step backward, the space between them widening, and the sudden rush of cool night air where he had just been standing made clementine feel strangely exposed. rafe shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his dark hoodie, his shoulders tensing up again as he looked past her, toward the bright, chaotic lights of the kook trucks down the beach. the wall was going right back up, the brief crack in his armor disappearing as quickly as it had shown up.

"see you around," he muttered, brushing right past her shoulder to head toward the main stretch of the beach. the heat of his arm mirrored the split-second impact from earlier, and clementine stood completely frozen, the scent of the ocean mixed with his cologne lingering in the air between them as he walked away.

she remained still for a long moment, the damp sand sinking slightly beneath her sneakers as the heavy thump of the music started to pull her back to reality. she turned slowly, intending to start the walk back toward the roaring bonfire and the loud, familiar voices of her friends.

but after only a few steps, she stopped.

without thinking, she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes tracking his silhouette as he moved further away. she doesn't know why but she feels her stomach flip slightly at the thought of him.

rafe was already merging back into the edge of the light. his back was completely turned to her, his head down as he moved straight toward the crowd, never pausing, never turning around.

she stood there for another second, watching the shadow of his dark hoodie blend back into the crowd until he disappeared completely behind the line of kook trucks. the brief silence of the dark beach was totally gone now, swallowed up by the rising noise of the party.

the sand grew warmer under her sneakers as she neared the bonfire, the heavy bass thumping against her ribs again as she stepped back into the light.

"there you are," kiara shouted over the music, handing her a fresh drink as she stepped back into the circle. "where'd you disappear to?"

"just needed some air," clementine said, forcing a small smile.

she looked across the fire, her eyes instinctively scanning the gap between the two crowds. she spotted him almost immediately, standing by the open tailgate of a white truck, laughing at something one of his friends said as if nothing had happened at all.

clementine leaned against a cooler, the familiar rants starting up again around her, but tonight, she couldn't quite bring herself to tune back into the script. but then, as if feeling the weight of her stare, rafe’s head turned.

his eyes tracked straight across the divide, cutting right through the smoke and the flying sparks of the bonfire until they found her.

clementine froze, her hand tightening around her cup as their eyes locked. there was no smirk this time, no arrogant tilt of his head. it was just a steady, deliberate look that lasted for a few heavy seconds, completely ignoring the chaos around them.

it wasn't friendly, and it definitely wasn't soft. but there was an unspoken understanding in it, a quiet acknowledgment that something had shifted out there in the dark. they were back on their respective sides, playing their parts, but it was a little secret between them, a bizarre blip in the endless kook vs. pogue war that neither of them would ever admit to anyone else.

rafe casually broke the contact, turning back to his friends as if nothing had happened, but the tension remained. clementine took a slow sip of her drink, slowly turning back to kiara and the rest of her friends as a strange, quiet satisfaction settled over her.

[rafeobx]

WANNE BE YOURS, r.c

pair: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

trope: forbidden/secret romance, enemies to lovers

face claim for female oc: elena glibert/nina dobrev

plot: she’s a pogue, born and raised on the cut with a built-in hatred for everything the wealthy kooks stand for. he’s rafe cameron, a kook prince bred to look down on anyone from her side of the island. they belong to two completely different worlds, separated by class, privilege, and a generational rivalry that runs deep through the outer banks. however, when a chaotic night leads clementine straight into rafe’s path at a boneyard party, the unwritten rules of the island start to blur. instead of walking away like she knows she should, she finds herself drawn to the dangerous edge he carries, realizing there's something far more complicated beneath his entitled exterior. as their paths continue to cross in secret, the friction between them turns into an undeniable intrigue that threatens to shatter the loyalty she has to her people and pull her into a world she was always taught to despise.

warnings: angst, cursing

chapter 1: iloveitiloveitiloveit

[rafeobx]

THE NIGHT WE MET

pair: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

trope: enemies to lovers, secret romance

masterlist

chapter one of WANNA BE YOURS

plot: at a tense boneyard party where the island’s social divide temporarily collapses, clementine slips away from the exhausting us-versus-them toxicity of her friends to find quiet on the dark shoreline. while lost in her thoughts, she accidentally collides with rafe cameron, the ultimate embodiment of the kook crowd. what begins as defensive, sharp-edged banter shifts into an unexpected moment of genuine vulnerability. they share a mutual exhaustion with the rigid expectations of their respective social groups. though they maintain their distance and go right back to playing their parts in the crowd, the encounter ends with a heavy, unspoken look. one that establishes a private secret and a brief, tense truce in the ongoing kook vs pogue war.

the boneyard was always chaotic, but tonight the energy was completely unpredictable because the unspoken borders of the island had temporarily collapsed. it wasn't just a pogue party or a kook party; it was a rare, tense mix of both sides packed onto the same stretch of dark sand. the bonfire roared in the center, throwing long, flickering shadows over everyone, while a massive speaker blasted music that barely drowned out the underlying friction in the air.

on one side of the fire, the pogues held down their usual territory with cheap plastic cups, worn-out flannels, and loud, easy laughter. just thirty feet away, a cluster of kooks stood near a row of pristine, expensive trucks, looking detached and elite in their crisp linen shirts and pastel shorts. everyone was drinking, laughing, and fronting, but nobody was actually relaxing. the two groups stayed separated by a shifting, invisible line, exchanging sharp, territorial glances across the sparks flying up into the night sky. it felt like a single wrong word could set the whole beach on fire.

clementine stood right in the thick of it with her friends, the heavy bass thumping right through the soles of her shoes. they were huddled near the edge of the pogue circle, and the conversation was exactly what she expected: sharp digs at the kooks standing just a stone's throw away, mocking their clothes and their attitudes. usually, she’d join right in, but tonight, staring at the literal divide between the two crowds under the flashing lights, the endless bitterness just felt exhausting. she felt completely disconnected from the people around her, the laughter sounding hollow in her ears.

needing to escape the suffocating weight of the us-versus-them mentality, clementine slipped away from her friends. she walked backward out of the light, letting the shadows swallow her as she headed down the darker, quieter stretch of the shoreline where the music finally began to fade into the steady, rhythmic crash of the ocean waves.

she was staring down at her worn-out sneakers sinking into the damp sand, completely lost in her own head, when she smashed hard into a solid chest.

the impact sent a jolt right through her, knocking her off balance. her feet slipped on the uneven sand, and she started to tumble backward into the dark. but before she could hit the ground, a hand shot out with lightning-fast reflexes, wrapping firmly around her forearm and yanking her back onto her feet.

she looked up, her heart hammering against her ribs, ready to snap an apology. but the words completely died in her throat. standing beneath the faint moonlight, his hand still gripping her arm, was rafe cameron. the literal embodiment of everything her friends were just tearing apart back at the fire and he looked down at her with a clenched jaw. a cold, unreadable expression, completely shattering the quiet escape she had been looking for.

his grip on her arm was tight, the heat of his skin contrasting sharply with the cool night air. for a second, neither of them said anything, the distant thump of the bass from the party the only sound between them. rafe looked down at her, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her face from around the cut.

"watch where you're going," he muttered, his voice rough and laced with that usual kook arrogance. he didn't let go of her arm right away, his fingers lingering just a second too long before he dropped his hand back to his side.

clementine took a step back, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes, trying to regain her footing and her composure. "i could say the same to you. you don't own the beach, cameron."

rafe let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. he looked restless, his jaw shifting as he looked past her toward the bonfire, then back down at her.

"you always walk like you're trying to put a hole through the sand?" he asked, a sharp, mocking tilt to his voice as he looked down at her.

clementine scoffed, taking another half-step back to clear the space between them. "and you always lurk in the dark like a creep? you're lucky i didn't punch you."

"with what?" rafe smirked, looking down at her hands before bringing his eyes back to hers, his posture loosening up just a bit. "those tiny hands? i think i would've survived."

"don't underestimate me, cameron," she shot back, crossing her arms and leaning her weight onto one leg.

rafe tilted his head, a slow, challenging grin spreading across his face as he stepped into her space. "is that a threat, clementine? because last time i checked, your crowd prefers shouting across the beach over actually doing anything."

"we just prefer not wasting our energy on people who aren't worth it," she countered smoothly, refusing to back down even as her pulse quickened. "besides, shouldn't you be busy playing the perfect kook prince tonight? your crew looks lonely without their leader."

rafe let out a dry laugh, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt entirely too heavy for the dark beach. "they're doing just fine acting like total idiots without me. and honestly, i think you're the last person who should be talking about lonely crews. you looked like you were about to lose your mind standing over there."

clementine bit the inside of her cheek, caught between wanting to snap back and wanting to just listen to him talk. it was a strange, unfamiliar friction. she was raised to believe every single person from figure eight was a carbon copy of privilege and arrogance, someone to be hated on principle. but looking at rafe right now, she couldn't find that easy, standard anger. she didn't like him obviously, he was still reckless and way too full of himself, but he wasn't the predictable cardboard cutout her friends always said he was.

he was something entirely different, a dangerous kind of unpredictable that she couldn't quite turn away from.

"i'm not losing my mind," she murmured, her voice dropping the sharp edge of the banter, leaving something much more honest between them. "just tired of the same old noise."

rafe watched her closely, the smugness completely dropping from his expression as his jaw tightened. "yeah," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the space between them before snapping back to her eyes. "me too."

a quiet settled between them, heavy and completely unexpected. the distant bass from the bonfire still thudded against the dark sand, but out here in the shadows, the noise felt miles away. clementine shifted her weight, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing and how easily they had just slipped into talking to each other.

"i should probably get out of your way then," she said softly "before my friends see me with you", trying to keep a hint of that sharp edge in her voice, but it came out sounding much quieter than she intended in the open air.

afe looked down at her, his jaw relaxing just a fraction. a faint, almost imperceptible shift crossed his face, though his eyes stayed serious and fixed on hers. "yeah. and i should probably get back before people start looking for me, too."

he took a slow step backward, the space between them widening, and the sudden rush of cool night air where he had just been standing made clementine feel strangely exposed. rafe shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his dark hoodie, his shoulders tensing up again as he looked past her, toward the bright, chaotic lights of the kook trucks down the beach. the wall was going right back up, the brief crack in his armor disappearing as quickly as it had shown up.

"see you around," he muttered, brushing right past her shoulder to head toward the main stretch of the beach. the heat of his arm mirrored the split-second impact from earlier, and clementine stood completely frozen, the scent of the ocean mixed with his cologne lingering in the air between them as he walked away.

she remained still for a long moment, the damp sand sinking slightly beneath her sneakers as the heavy thump of the music started to pull her back to reality. she turned slowly, without thinking, she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes tracking his silhouette as he moved further away. she doesn't know why but she feels her stomach flip slightly at the thought of him.

rafe was already merging back into the edge of the light. his back was completely turned to her, his head down as he moved straight toward the crowd, never pausing, never turning around.

she stood there for another second, watching the shadow of his dark hoodie blend back into the crowd until he disappeared completely behind the line of kook trucks. the brief silence of the dark beach was totally gone now, swallowed up by the rising noise of the party.

the sand grew warmer under her sneakers as she neared the bonfire, the heavy bass thumping against her ribs again as she stepped back into the light.

"there you are," kiara shouted over the music, handing her a fresh drink as she stepped back into the circle. "where'd you disappear to?"

"just needed some air," clementine said, forcing a small smile.

she looked across the fire, her eyes instinctively scanning the gap between the two crowds. she spotted him almost immediately, standing by the open tailgate of a white truck, laughing at something one of his friends said as if nothing had happened at all.

clementine leaned against a cooler, the familiar rants starting up again around her, but tonight, she couldn't quite bring herself to tune back into the script. but then, as if feeling the weight of her stare, rafe’s head turned.

his eyes tracked straight across the divide, cutting right through the smoke and the flying sparks of the bonfire until they found her.

clementine froze, her hand tightening around her cup as their eyes locked. there was no smirk this time, no arrogant tilt of his head. it was just a steady, deliberate look that lasted for a few heavy seconds, completely ignoring the chaos around them.

it wasn't friendly, and it definitely wasn't soft. but there was an unspoken understanding in it, a quiet acknowledgment that something had shifted out there in the dark. they were back on their respective sides, playing their parts, but it was a little secret between them, a bizarre blip in the endless kook vs. pogue war that neither of them would ever admit to anyone else.

rafe casually broke the contact, turning back to his friends as if nothing had happened, but the tension remained. clementine took a slow sip of her drink, slowly turning back to kiara and the rest of her friends as a strange, quiet satisfaction settled over her.

[rafeobx]

WANNE BE YOURS, r.c

pair: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

trope: forbidden/secret romance, enemies to lovers

face claim for female oc: elena glibert/nina dobrev

plot: she’s a pogue, born and raised on the cut with a built-in hatred for everything the wealthy kooks stand for. he’s rafe cameron, a kook prince bred to look down on anyone from her side of the island. they belong to two completely different worlds, separated by class, privilege, and a generational rivalry that runs deep through the outer banks. however, when a chaotic night leads clementine straight into rafe’s path at a boneyard party, the unwritten rules of the island start to blur. instead of walking away like she knows she should, she finds herself drawn to the dangerous edge he carries, realizing there's something far more complicated beneath his entitled exterior. as their paths continue to cross in secret, the friction between them turns into an undeniable intrigue that threatens to shatter the loyalty she has to her people and pull her into a world she was always taught to despise.

warnings: angst, cursing

chapter 1: the night we met

[rafeobx]

SUE ME I WANNA BE WANTED, rafe cameron

pair: rafe cameron x routledgepogue!reader

trope: kind of best friend's brother and secret romance

MASTERLIST

plot: you just broke up with your kook boyfriend, milo, and the break p isn't going over very well...but the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.

warnings: sorta suggestive (towards end), angst

"milo," the tears pour out before you can continue "w-why are you doing this to me?" milo stares blankly at you, but his dismissive look and eye roll does not go unnoticed.

"no seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? why are you breaking up with me right before midsummers" the words hang bitterly in the air. milo doesn't even have decency to look bad. instead, he just shoves his hands into the pockets of his pressed khaki shorts, glancing toward the glowing lights of the figure eight club where the rest of the kooks are already gathering.

"because look at you," milo says "look at who you hang out with. you're over in the cut half the time with those pogues. i have a reputation to maintain and my parents are already breathing down my neck. i can't be dragging a pogue in as my date." without another word, he turns on his wheel and walks away, leaving you standing under the oak tree. you wipe your tears away, mascara burning your eyes, and the formal dress you spent weeks saving for feels suffocating all of a sudden.

you sink onto the tree and bury your face in your hands. the distant sound of the music playing inside the club only makes the knot in your chest tighter. john b and the guys had warned you about the figure eight crowd, but you hadn't wanted to believe them.

"you look horrible."

a sharp, impatient voice breaks through your thoughts. you look up, wiping your eyes aggressively, to see rafe cameron standing a few feet away. he’s wearing a perfectly tailored baby blue suit, his hair slicked back, looking every bit the kook prince - except for the dark, volatile storm brewing in his eyes. he’s gripping a flask, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else on earth.

you look up at him through blurred vision, your jaw tightening. "thanks, rafe. really appreciate the confidence boost right now." rafe scoffs, taking a slow sip from his flask before shoving it back into his pocket. he steps closer, the expensive leather of his loafers crunching against the gravel. he looks down at you, his eyes scanning your tear-stained face and the dress you had worked so hard to afford.

he shifts his weight, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable, his characteristic arrogance wavering for a split second. he rubs the back of his neck, glancing away toward the marsh before looking back at you.

"look, i'm just saying," rafe mutters, his tone dropping into something surprisingly candid. "yeah, you're a pogue. you hang out with those idiots, which, honestly, i still don't get. but you're ... i don't know. you're not like them, you actually try. you don't just sit around trashing everything and acting like you're better than everyone else while doing nothing."

you blink, completely caught off guard by the closest thing to a compliment rafe cameron has ever given anyone from the cut.

he stops, his eyes lingering on the dark streaks of mascara running down your cheeks. the slight softness in his expression quickly vanishes, replaced by a deep furrow in his brow. he looks around the dark perimeter of the country club lawn, noticing for the first time how isolated you are out here by the trees.

"wait, why the hell are you even crying anyway?" rafe asks, his voice snapping back to its usual sharp, impatient edge. he crosses his arms, looking genuinely confused. "did something happen? where's your boyfriend? i thought you guys were coming together."

you let out a bitter, watery laugh, wiping at your cheek with the back of your hand, though it only smears the makeup further. "he's not my boyfriend anymore. he dumped me literally five minutes ago."

rafe blinks, taking a second to process the words. "what? why?"

"because of exactly what you just said," you say, your voice cracking as the humiliation washes over you all over again. "because i'm a pogue." he said he has a reputation to maintain and his parents would freak out if he brought me inside. he didn't want to be dragged down by a pogue-sympathizer."

rafe stands completely still for a moment. then, a harsh, humorless laugh escapes his lips. he looks over his shoulder toward the glowing lights where the music is swelling, his jaw clenching so tight a muscle tenses in his cheek.

he isn't completely sure why he even cares so much. maybe it's because he feels he should since you're sarah's friend, but that wouldn't make much sense since he couldn't give a fuck less about a sarah's other friends.

"milo said that?" rafe asks, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. the volatile spark in his eyes flares right back up. "that kid is a total coward. he spends half his time trying to act tough around the docks, and the other half crying to his dad about his trust fund. he got cold feet because he’s terrified of what people think."

he steps even closer, the toe of his expensive loafer nearly touching your shoe. he looks down at you, the dark storm in his eyes shifting into something fiercely determined, lifting a hand to meet your jaw.

"come in with me."

you freeze, your breath hitching in your throat as his fingers brush against your jawline. his touch is surprisingly steady, a sharp contrast to the chaotic, unpredictable energy that usually radiates off him.

for a second, you can't even process what he just said. "what?" you whisper, your voice barely audible over the distant bass of the band playing inside the pavilion.

rafe doesn’t drop his hand right away. his thumb brushes just under your eye, smudging a bit of the ruined mascara, his gaze locked onto yours with a strange, fierce intensity. "you heard me. come inside with me...as my date."

"rafe, you're losing your mind," you say, gently pulling back from his touch, though your heart is suddenly hammering against your ribs. "you just spent the last two minutes reminding me that i’m a pogue. now you want to walk into the biggest kook event of the year with me on your arm? your dad would lose his absolute mind."

"good," rafe snaps, his jaw clenching again as he looks back toward the main tent. the mention of ward cameron clearly strikes a nerve, fueling the volatile fire in his eyes. "let him. he’s already pissed at me tonight anyway. i'm sick of caring about what he thinks, and i'm definitely sick of watching guys like milo act like they own this island just because their parents bought it for them."

he looks back down at you, his expression softening just a fraction, returning to that uncharacteristically candid tone from before. "besides, i told you. you look good tonight. why should you have to sit out here in the dark while some spineless idiot eats crab cakes and pretends he's better than you?"

you look from rafe to the glowing country club entrance. the thought of walking back to the cut alone, humiliated and crying in the dress you worked extra shifts at the country club to buy, makes a bitter knot form in your stomach. but walking in there with rafe cameron? that wasn't just a statement, it was a declaration of war against the entire figure eight.

"milo's jaw is going to drop to the floor," you mutter softly, the first hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips despite the tears still drying on your cheeks. rafe's dangerous, trademark smile slowly spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up with reckless satisfaction. he steps back and offers his arm, the silver rings on his fingers catching the light from the pavilion.

"exactly," rafe says, his voice dripping with dark confidence. "fix your makeup. we're going to go make a scene."

you reach up, using the pads of your fingers to carefully dab away the smeared mascara beneath your eyes, doing your best to smooth out your makeup in the dim light of the oak trees. taking a deep, stabilizing breath, you smooth down the fabric of your dress. the suffocating feeling vanishes, replaced by a sudden, sharp rush of adrenaline.

rafe watches you, his arm still extended, an amused but intensely focused look on his face. the volatile edge to his posture hasn't disappeared, but it has channeled into something entirely directed at the crowd inside.

you step forward and slip your hand through the crook of his elbow. the fabric of his baby blue suit jacket is crisp beneath your fingers.

"don't make me regret this, cameron," you say, looking up at him with a newfound defiance.

"you won't," rafe replies smoothly, his smirk widening as he adjusts his posture, pulling himself up to his full height. "just follow my lead."

as you both step out from the shadow of the oak tree and onto the manicured lawn, the bright string lights of the midsummers pavilion hit you. the transition from the dark perimeter to the vibrant, bustling heart of the country club is jarring.

heads immediately begin to turn.

at first, it’s just a few whispers from the older kook couples near the outdoor bar, their eyes darting from rafe’s unmistakable frame to you, a familiar face from the cut suddenly dressed to the nines. rafe doesn't slow down for a second. he walks with an easy, unbothered arrogance, guiding you directly toward the main entrance of the tent where the crowd is thickest.

it doesn't take long to spot milo. he’s standing near a high-top table with a group of his friends, laughing at something one of them said, looking entirely carefree.

but as you and rafe approach the entrance, one of milo's friends nudges his shoulder, nodding in your direction. milo turns, a smug expression on his face that instantly freezes the moment his eyes land on you and then trail up to rafe's hand resting protectively over yours.

milo’s jaw practically drops, his face draining of color as

the realization hits him. he looks utterly bewildered, his gaze snapping back and forth between you and the wealthiest, most volatile Kook prince on the island.

rafe notices the exact moment milo sees you. he doesn't say a word, but his grip on your arm tightens just a fraction as he guides you right past milo's table, casting a cold, utterly dismissive glance down at him. "hold your head up," rafe murmurs to you, his voice low and private over the sound of the band. "everyone is watching."

the heat of the tent is stifling, a thick mix of expensive perfume, humid ocean air, and the heavy weight of a hundred staring eyes. milo is still staring, his face a mask of pure disbelief and growing humiliation, but as rafe leads you deeper into the crowd, milo fades into the background. suddenly, the petty revenge doesn't matter as much as the sheer electric current humming between you and the guy whose arm you're holding.

the band transitions, the upbeat brass melting into a slow, melancholic cover of a classic song. the couples on the floor shift, drawing closer, their movements slowing to match the rhythm.

rafe stops near the edge of the dance floor. the reckless, sharp smirk he wore just a moment ago completely vanishes, replaced by an intense, heavy quiet. he turns to face you fully, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a gravity that makes your breath catch.

"come here," he murmurs, his voice a low gravelly rasp that cuts straight through the noise of the room.

he doesn't wait for an answer. rafe steps into your space, closing the distance between you until the fabric of his baby blue suit brushes against your dress. he places one large, warm hand firmly on the small of your back, his fingers pressing through the thin material, while his other hand catches yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. his silver rings feel cold against your skin, but his palms are burning hot.

your free hand hesitates for a fraction of a second before landing on his shoulder, your fingers gripping the sharp edge of his lapel.

when you start to move together, the shift is seamless, but the tension is almost unbearable. rafe pulls you just an inch closer than what is considered polite for a country club dance, his chest practically flush against yours. you can feel the rapid, steady thud of his heartbeat, or maybe it’s your own racing out of control.

"you're shaking," rafe notes softly, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes. there’s a raw, volatile hunger in his expression that has nothing to do with his father or milo or the figure eight.

it’s entirely fixed on you.

"i'm not," you lie, your voice breathless as you look up at him. the proximity is dizzying. you’ve known tafe cameron for years from a distance, as a threat, as a chaotic force, as the kook prince but right now, the sheer desire rolling off him is terrifyingly intoxicating.

"liar," he whispers, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, though his eyes remain fiercely dark, filled with a frantic, aching angst. he guides you through a slow turn, his grip on your waist tightening, pulling you so close you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

the world around you completely blurs. the whispers of the kooks, the flashing cameras, the lingering threat of ward cameron seeing you.

it's all gone.

there is only the suffocating heat of the tent, the slow, agonizing pull of the music, and the undeniable, dangerous spark of wanting someone you know you shouldn't.

rafe leans down slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice thick with a sudden, desperate sincerity. "let them talk. i don't care anymore."

his words vibrate against your skin, sending a sharp shiver down your spine despite the stifling heat. the music seems to slow even further, the heavy thump of the bass matching the frantic rhythm of your pulse. every point of contact feels magnified, burning with a frantic, unsaid energy.

you tilt your head back to look at him, your eyes meeting his dark, intense gaze. just a few yards away, you catch the briefest glimpse of milo still watching from the edge of the floor, his face twisted in a bitter mix of shock and regret.

rafe notices the slight shift in your focus. he glances over your shoulder, his jaw tightening as he tracks milo's stare. when his eyes snap back to yours, the dangerous, reckless spark in them has turned into a consuming flame.

"he's still watching," rafe murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough, breathless whisper. he brings his face closer, his gaze dropping deliberately to your lips. "we could really give him something to look at."

the excuse hangs between you, a weapon to use against the guy who broke your heart just minutes ago. but as rafe's hand shifts from your waist up to the nape of your neck, his thumb resting against your jawline, the pretense completely shatters. the sudden, agonizing ache in your chest has nothing to do with revenge anymore. you don't care about milo. you just want the space between you and rafe to disappear.

"rafe," you breathe out, a quiet warning that sounds more like an invitation.

"tell me to stop," he challenges softly, his breath brushing your lips. he isn't stopping. the vulnerability in his eyes is glaring, stripping away the kook prince facade to reveal a desperate, raw desire that echoes your own.

you don't tell him to stop. instead, your fingers tighten in the lapel of his baby blue suit, pulling him that last remaining inch.

when his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is a sudden, breathless collision of all the built-up tension. it starts with the fierce intensity of a point to prove, but within a heartbeat, the anger and the audience melt away. rafe lets out a low, ragged sigh against your mouth, his grip tightening as he pulls you completely flush against him, burying his fingers in your hair.

it’s deep, dizzying, and laced with a crazy, chaotic angst. every unacknowledged thought from the past year, every passing glance at the docks, every boundary between the cut and figure eight, burns up in the space of a single breath.

he kisses you like he's drowning and you're the only thing keeping him steady, and you find yourself holding onto him just as desperately, completely lost in a current you have no desire to fight.

when he pulls away, his lips are red and swollen, and a smirk is plastered across his face.

"wanna get out of here?"

[prttyang3l]

guys i like men who are 6’2, blue eyes, brown hair, actors, hot asf, and whos name begins with drew and ends in starkey

[closetohim]

ugh I need this man so badly !!!

[delilahsturniolo]

˖ ࣪ . 🌊 ࿐ ♡ INTRODUCING . . . POGUE!CHRIS

⤷ paired best with kook!reader

ꫂ᭪ surfer boy. P4L. very reckless. sarcastic. always has bruised knuckles. lives for adrenaline. protective of his friends. party animal. doesn’t trust kooks. has his own surf shop. bonfires. tousled hair. emotionally closed off. makes the most of every moment. smells like the beach and ocean breeze. always in some sort of trouble with the police. beer. seashells.

˖ ࣪ . ☀️ ࿐ ♡ INTRODUCING . . . KOOK!READER

⤷ paired best with pogue!chris

ꫂ᭪ wealthy. country clubs. your family has a huge reputation. known as the “kook princess.” always well dressed. secretly have always dreamed of being a pogue. head of your prep school class. prim and proper. lipgloss. bikinis. always sassy. you look up to chris but won’t admit it. champagne. sunsets.

♡ MAIN SYNOPSIS ── you’re a kook, born into a life of luxury, parties, and expectations you never asked for. he’s a pogue. reckless, rough around the edges, and never where he’s supposed to be. your worlds were never meant to touch, but one summer changes everything. your parents always warned you to stay away from pogues, how they’re bad influences. but, you want to be just like them. wild and free. you weren’t supposed to talk to him. not on the dock, not at parties, not ever. but something about chris feels different from the world you come from. where you have a reputation to keep. he says what he means. where you follow rules, he breaks them without blinking. it starts with one summer night and a stolen glance. then it’s late drives, secret meetups, bruised knuckles, and bruised hearts. you’re both falling fast, hard, and headfirst. but the deeper you go, the more dangerous it becomes. because in the outer banks, love like this always comes with a cost. welcome to the outer banks, paradise on earth.

𓂃 kook!reader is a self insert, but you can imagine yourself or anyone you would like to. this au will not follow the storyline of outer banks, some plot points will be similar but i am not following the plot of the show.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: thank you to my girl @chrisstvrns for always hyping me up and letting me dump all my ideas in your dms i love you endlessly!!!! :(((

[delilahsturniolo]

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡ kook!reader helping pogue!chris get into a restricted area her family owns

you weren’t supposed to answer his call. you told yourself that after midsummers, you were done sneaking around. done with stolen moments on docks and kisses that felt too good to be a mistake. but here you are again, sitting in the driver’s seat of your own car, fingers tight around the steering wheel, as he leans in through the passenger window.

“you came,” chris says, a little surprised, a little smug.

“i shouldn’t have.”

“but you did.”

you glance away. “what do you need?” he slips a folded piece of paper into your lap. a map. your father’s property. a gated section of land near figure eight, one only certain people have the codes to access. “there’s something out there. we found old shipping records—” he pauses, catching himself rambling. “point is, i need in.”

you blink. “you want me to break into my family’s land for you?”

“technically, it’s your land too.”

“chris.”

“look. i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. and i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t think i could trust you.”

that stops you. because trust? you’re not sure you’ve earned that from anyone lately. you say nothing, just put the car in drive. you park outside the side entrance, the one barely anyone knows exists, and use the keypad. chris watches you the whole time, expression unreadable. when the gate slides open, he exhales slow like he didn’t actually believe you’d do it.

“you’re full of surprises,” he says. you walk ahead of him, trying not to let his voice sink too deep into your chest. “you’ve seen nothing yet.” you reach the storage barn, tucked behind old fencing and forgotten by most. your dad used to keep hunting gear here. now it’s mostly locked crates and old safes no one’s touched in years.

chris crouches by one of the floor panels, lifts it up like he knew it would be there. and under it? a rusted box. he breathes out a low, disbelieving laugh. “no fucking way.” you lean in. “that it?”

“yeah,” he mutters, brushing dirt off the top. “it’s one of them.” he doesn’t say what’s inside, just that it’s a clue. something to do with the wreck. but before you can ask more, shouting cuts through the trees.

“what the hell is this?!”

you both turn fast. john b. jj. pope, and kiara. standing at the fence, furious. someone must’ve followed you. jj stalks over first, eyes locked on chris. “you serious right now? you brought her?”

“jj—”

“you brought a kook onto a site?! our site? after everything?”

kiara looks at you with disgust. you glare back at her. “you brought her? really chris!? you can’t fucking trust her!” pope looks between you and chris like trying to solve a puzzle he hates the answer to. “man… this isn’t good.”

you step back instinctively, the shame already curling in your chest. “i didn’t tell anyone. i swear.” you mumble. “that’s not the point,” john b snaps. “what happens when her dad finds out? or caleb? you think they won’t come looking for us?”

“she’s not gonna say anything,” chris says, stepping slightly in front of you. jj scoffs. “oh, right. because she’s so loyal to us.”

“knowing her, she’s gonna say shit.” kiara crosses her arms. you feel yourself flush, embarrassed, angry, humiliated. you shouldn’t have come. this was a mistake. “whatever, fuck you all.” you mutter, turning to leave. “hey,” chris calls, grabbing your wrist before you can get far. “don’t.” his hand is warm. grounding. “i’m not your problem,” you say quietly, not looking at him. he doesn’t let go. “you’re not a problem.”

“tell your friends that.” he doesn’t answer. but you hear him argue when you keep walking. the kind of arguing that sounds like he’s choosing you, even when he doesn’t know how to say it yet.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: THE ANGST IS BUILDINGGGG

[joeburrowtruelove]

oui oui

[vampiriito]

saw this on tik tok and giggled, thought my blog should see it too💖

[dollyfiles]

showing up to boxer!rafe’s final match even though you two are already broken up

cw: fluffy angst, exes, past relationship, regrets, comfort

you told yourself you weren’t gonna go.

swore up and down you’d stay home, maybe check the results online later, maybe watch a highlight reel on instagram if you were feeling nostalgic or bored or whatever.

but when the night actually came… your body didn’t listen. your heart definitely didn’t. somehow you found yourself standing in line outside the arena, jacket sleeves pulled over your hands, nervous leg bouncing like you were the one about to step into the ring.

it had been a year. a full year since you and rafe called it quits. or, more accurately, let everything spiral until there was nothing left to hold onto.

the fights were brutal. not physical, god no, but emotional in that deep, aching kind of way. miscommunication turned to distance, distance turned to resentment, and suddenly, you two were more strangers than soulmates.

and yet. you were here. in a crowd of screaming fans, heart thudding harder than it should’ve, because no matter how things ended, a piece of you was still his biggest fan.

when he stepped into the ring, the whole place shook. his name was on every sign, every screen. people were chanting, whistling, yelling. "rafe! rafe! rafe!" they echoed like a war cry, fists in the air and feet stomping against the concrete floor. but all you could do was stare.

you hadn't seen him in a year. not in person, at least. just the occasional headline, the grainy clips of him knocking someone out in the third round, and that stupid post-fight smirk he'd flash before raising his glove. god, it used to drive you insane.

he looked the same. maybe a little leaner, sharper in the eyes. but it was still him. the same walk, the same little jaw twitch he got when he was focused, same black tape around his wrists that you used to help him wrap back when everything was still okay.

when the fight started, and you couldn’t sit still. every punch, every dodge, every hit he took made your chest tighten up. but he was good. so good. he moved like he’d been born for it. too fast, smart, ruthless but not reckless.

and when the final bell rang and the referee raised his hand, declaring rafe the winner, the new national champion, you couldn’t help it. you jumped to your feet and screamed his name like your throat didn’t hurt, like your heart hadn’t cracked a dozen times in the past year.

“let’s go, rafe!” you were clapping, screaming, smiling through the tears you didn't realize had built up. “that’s my boy!”

except… he didn’t know you were there.

of course he didn't. he hadn't heard from you in months. you'd both let it all fall apart. and by the time either of you were ready to fix it, too much damage had been done. pride had spoken louder than love.

he was doing the usual victory stuff, arms in the air, coaches clapping him on the back, cameras flashing in his face. he had that cocky little grin on, the one he used to flash at you when he caught you staring.

but then his eyes started scanning the crowd. you didn’t even realize you’d moved closer until he stopped moving. and then he froze when he had spotted you.

it was like time stopped. like the ring disappeared and the noise faded and there was just you and him, locked in this weird, charged silence across the mess around you two.

the jacket you were wearing was his. the one he gave you after your first trip to the beach, back when he was trying to pretend he wasn’t already falling. it still smelled faintly like him, even after all this time.

you saw his chest rise. fall. rise again, but slower this time. like he was trying to breathe but forgot how. and then came the look.

not the “holy shit, she’s here” kind of look. not even the “i didn’t expect this” kind. it was deeper than that. softer. almost broken. like that old wound inside him tearing open just from seeing you again.

you didn’t wave. didn’t smile. just stood there with your hands shoved into the front pocket of his old carharrt jacket, blinking back the sting in your beaming eyes.

and rafe? he didn’t look away for a second. not when his trainer tried to pull him into a post-fight interview. not when fans were screaming for his attention. not even when the lights got brighter and someone shoved the championship belt into his arms.

because for the first time in forever, your eyes were on him. only on him. and he wasn't about to look away.

he just kept staring. cause maybe, if he stared long enough, you’d come down to the ring and fall into him. or he’d wake up back in your apartment, bruises and all, with your fingers running through his hair and your voice telling him he did good.

but this wasn’t a dream. you were real. and god, it hurt him.

because he realized, in that one aching, breathless moment, that even though he’d won the fight… he might’ve already lost the only thing that ever mattered to him in the first place.

tags: @ribbonbiter @soangelbaby @bradshawed @bambiribbon @rotapathetic @rafessecret @inspiredangel @et6rnalsun @st6ined @acklesangel @nemesyaaa @rafekisser @deansbeer @littlelamy @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lacyydollette

[astridwisp]

archived: us — rafe cameron smau

summary: you and rafe were the internet’s it couple—matching outfits, chaotic couple vlogs, late-night q&a's where he’d hold your hand like you were the only person on earth. but that love turned toxic, and when the breakup hit, it went viral. he soft-blocked you. you archived every photo.

the algorithm moved on, but your heart didn’t.

six months later, you’re both invited to a content house with fellow obx influencers in thailand, the kind with infinity pools and shared bathrooms.

the collab? for clicks. the tension? unavoidable.

you catch him watching your stories. he catches you rereading his old texts. neither of you will admit what you archived: the truth that you're still not over it.

and the internet is still watching.

pairing: influencer!rafe x influencer!femreader

inspo: @zyafics @houseofblve @edwardslvrr

social medias

instagram

twitter

youtube

table of contents

chapter 1 chapter 2

chapter 3 chapter 4

chapter 5 chapter 6

chapter 7 chapter 8

chapter 9 chapter 10

chapter 11 chapter 12

chapter 13 chapter 14

chapter 15 chapter 16

chapter 17 chapter 18

chapter 19 chapter 20

chapter 21 chapter 22

chapter 23 chapter 24

chapter 25 chapter 26

and more to come

dividers made by @purefantasia

a/n: that pic of drew is what inspired me to write this. also just needed a gym bro rafe fic ❤️

© astridwisp. all rights reserved. unauthorized use, copying, or distribution of any of my work is prohibited. please do not repost or translate without explicit permission

[rafeobx]

RUN FOR THE HILLS

MASTERLIST

pair: jj maybank x bitchy!kook!reader????

plot: a dangerous secret simmers beneath the surface of the outer banks, completely unknown to those it could shatter. every stolen glance, every hushed moment is a risk, a thrilling gamble against discovery. only they know the truth that could ignite a firestorm.

warnings: name calling, cheating, forbidden love?, angst, typical kook vs pogue, fluff, mention of abuse, prob grammar mistake

a storm was brewing on the outer banks, not of the hurricane variety, but one born of secrets and forbidden desires. the pogue life was all about stickin' together, battling the kooks, but what if one of their own was playing a dangerous game with the enemy?

jj would never go for a kook—never. but... with his wild hair and even wilder spirit, he found himself caught in a rip current he never saw coming. it started with a glance, a spark across the divide that separated their worlds. y/n, outwardly the picture of kook perfection, topper's girlfriend, with kelce and rafe always lurking nearby, and the snide remarks of olivia, y/n bitchy best friend, never far from her lips. she was everything a pogue should despise, yet something about her drew jj in.

their rendezvous were cloaked in shadow and stolen moments. late-night drives down deserted roads, whispered conversations on moonlit beaches, hurried kisses hidden by the crashing waves. every touch, every shared laugh, was a gamble. for y/n, it was a dangerous escape from the suffocating expectations of her kook life and topper, a thrill she found only with jj. for jj, it was the thrill of the chase, the defiance of every rule, and a connection he hadn't anticipated.

his closest friends, the tight-knit pogue family—kiara, sarah, john b, pope, and cleo, the newest addition —were completely oblivious. they’d seen jj with plenty of girls, but never a kook, and certainly not topper’s girlfriend. the idea would be unthinkable, a betrayal of everything they stood for.

even sofia, a pogue by birth but now inextricably linked to the kooks through rafe, suspected nothing. she was too wrapped up in her own complicated loyalty.

the tension was a constant hum beneath the surface. every time the pogues and the kooks clashed, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over jj and y/n.

how long could they keep this fragile, explosive secret? how long before a careless whisper, a stray glimpse, or a jealous accusation brought their forbidden world crashing down around them, exposing their dangerous game to everyone? the outer banks, already a powder keg of class warfare, was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

the outer banks annual bike race was less a competition and more a declaration of war. the air, thick with salt and competitive grit, hummed with the familiar tension between the cut and figure eight. it wasn't just a race; it was a battle for bragging rights, a brutal reminder of the island's divided soul.

the pogues, a blur of sun-faded tees and worn-out sneakers, drove with a fierce, almost desperate energy.

the starting gun cracked, but jj, as always, had other plans, fueled by a potent mix of defiance and longing, carved his own path, a wild card in this high-stakes game.

dust choked the air as they tore through the course, a brutal gauntlet of loose sand and sharp turns. rafe, true to form, veered wildly, forcing john b to swerve, nearly sending him tumbling. topper, with a smug smirk, used his superior bike to block jj at every opportunity, a constant reminder of the divide. the kooks' dirty tactics were as much a part of the race as the pedal strokes themselves.

the chaos built on a sharp, uneven bend. topper, desperate to assert dominance as usual, deliberately swung wide, ramming his shoulder into jj’s back tire. jj felt the sickening lurch, the ground rushing up to meet him in a blur of green and brown.

he tumbled onto the ground, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth as a searing pain flared in his shoulder and knee.

john b shouted his name, a guttural roar of frustration, but the race officials, ever blind to kook transgressions, waved the others on, threatening disqualification. topper and rafe sped away, leaving jj in a crumpled heap, a bitter, familiar taste of injustice on his tongue.

jj limped away, the dull ache in his shoulder a physical manifestation of his frustration.

he found a secluded stretch of the beach, hidden by drooping live oaks, the distant cheers of the race fading into an indistinct hum. he just needed a minute, away from everything, to tend his wounds.

as twilight began to paint the sky in hues of orange and purple, a soft footfall disturbed the quiet. jj tensed, ready for another taunt, another reminder of his fall. but it wasn't rafe, or topper.

it was y/n.

she approached cautiously, her expensive attire looking oddly out of place against the rough terrain. the usual composed mask she wore had slipped, replaced by a delicate tremor of worry. she glanced around, a quick, almost nervous survey, before her eyes landed on him, slumped against the tree.

“jj?” she asked, her voice hushed, a stark contrast to the earlier cacophony.

he grunted, pushing himself upright with a wince. “what do you want, princess? come to kick a pogue while he’s down?”

a faint flush touched her cheeks. “no. i--i saw what happened. are you alright?” she knelt beside him, her perfectly manicured nails pointing to his scrapes with a dismissive air.

"honestly, what were you even thinking? try to keep up, or just stay out of the way next time." despite the cutting words, her gaze lingered on his angry red scrapes, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

"this looks pretty bad. you really should get it cleaned." her touch, as she gently prodded his arm, was surprisingly soft, almost tender, betraying the icy tone.

a strange, fragile silence settled between them. the chasm that separated their worlds, the animosity that defined their lives, seemed to momentarily shrink, replaced by a quiet, shared understanding.

in that moment, under the fading light, the secret they held, the dangerous, exhilarating truth of their connection, felt impossibly real, a flickering flame in the rising darkness. it was a secret that could destroy everything, and yet, right now, it was the only thing keeping them from falling apart.

the air thickened, charged with unspoken words and a dangerous undercurrent of desire. y/n's gaze flickered from his bruised knee to his jawline, a hesitant softness replacing the usual kook steel in her eyes. jj, despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder, found himself drawn to her vulnerability. the insults she’d thrown his way felt like a flimsy shield, easily broken.

a beat of silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the post-race commotion. then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, y/n leaned closer. her fingers, still surprisingly gentle, brushed against his cheek. jj’s breath hitched. he knew this was reckless, insane even. topper could appear any second. his friends… what would they say? but in that moment, none of it mattered. there was only y/n, her nearness a magnetic pull he couldn't resist.

their lips met, tentatively at first, a soft brush of skin against skin. then, with a shared intake of breath, the kiss deepened. it wasn't gentle or sweet; it was urgent, a desperate claiming in the shadows. a tangle of unspoken feelings – longing, defiance, fear – poured into the kiss. y/n's hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck, her fingers threading through his unruly hair.

jj’s good arm instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, the pain in his shoulder momentarily forgotten. he kissed her with a possessive fire, a silent declaration that topper could never touch her like this, could never make her feel this wild, this free. he tasted victory, bitter and sweet, on her lips.

the world narrowed to just the two of them, the taste of salt and something uniquely y/n on his lips. it was a stolen moment, illicit and exhilarating, a dangerous dance on the edge of discovery. they broke apart breathlessly, their foreheads touching, a shared vulnerability hanging between them.

“we shouldn’t…” y/n whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

jj’s thumb traced the curve of her jaw. “i know.”

the sound of approaching voices shattered the fragile intimacy. they both froze, their eyes widening with alarm.

“y/n? you out here?” it was topper’s voice, laced with a casual impatience.

y/n's eyes darted to jj, a look of sheer panic flashing across her face. she scrambled to her feet, smoothing down her dress with hurried, jerky movements.

“yeah, i’m just… checking things out,” she called back, her voice sounding strained and unconvincing.

topper rounded the cluster of trees, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to stunned disbelief in a split second. his eyes locked onto jj, still sitting awkwardly against the tree, his face flushed, and then flicked to y/n, her lips slightly swollen, her hair slightly disheveled.

the unspoken hung heavy in the air, thicker than the humid evening breeze. the pieces clicked into place with brutal clarity.

“y/n?” topper said, his voice dangerously low, his gaze fixed on jj with a mixture of fury and betrayal. the fragile secret, carefully guarded and fiercely desired, had just exploded into the open.

topper’s jaw clenched, a muscle jumping violently in his cheek. his face, usually composed, twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. his eyes, narrowed to venomous slits, darted between y/n’s pale, terrified face and jj’s defiant, bruised stance. “what--what the fuck, y/n? i fucking knew it, you’re a disgusting bitch!” his voice, usually smooth and confident, tore through the quiet, raw and laced with disbelief.

y/n flinched, taking a frantic step back from both of them, caught in the blinding headlights of his fury. “topper, it’s not what you think, i—”

“not what i think?” topper shrieked, cutting her off, his voice escalating to a chilling pitch. he gestured wildly between them, his hand shaking. “you’re out here with--him? after the race? after everything? you're a slut! you're a filthy slut!” his gaze landed on jj, blazing with a fury that promised violence. “you piece of pogue trash. you so much as look at her again, i swear to god, i will—”

jj, despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder, pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly, and stepped in front of y/n, shielding her from topper’s hateful glare, reaching his good arm out to yank topper by his collar. “don’t fucking talk to her like that.” his voice was a low growl, a dangerous challenge. “you wanna talk about what i did? let’s talk about how you never even saw this coming, cause you were too busy being a self-important prick to notice what was right in front of you.”

topper’s eyes blazed even hotter, his fists clenching so tight his knuckles went white. “you think this is funny, maybank? you think you can just steal what’s mine?”

jj let out a humorless laugh, a rough, derisive sound. “steal? she was never yours to steal, topper, she doesn’t want you anymore. get that through your thick skull. she’s done with you.” his words, brutal and cutting, hung heavy in the air, a devastating blow.

y/n, her face still pale with fear, but now with a sudden, sharp glint in her eyes, stepped out from behind jj. she faced topper directly, her chin lifting. “he’s right, topper. i am done with you. did you honestly think i’d stay with a self-absorbed bore like you forever? you’re pathetic. always have been.” she threw the words like sharp, glittering shards of glass, her voice surprisingly steady, though her hands still trembled slightly. “i’m not some accessory for your little kook life. maybe if you actually cared about someone other than yourself, you’d have noticed.”

topper’s gaze flickered to her, a flicker of profound, gut-wrenching betrayal in his eyes before it hardened into a mask of cold, vicious contempt. “don’t, don’t even. this is fucking disgusting, you’re a worthless bitch. you’ll regret this, y/n, both of you.” he looked back at jj, his fists clenching. “you’re dead, maybank. you and everything you love.” with that chilling promise, topper spun on his heel and stormed away, his angry strides echoing in the sudden, terrifying silence.

the silence that followed topper’s departure was deafening, more oppressive than any shouted threat. jj and y/n stood there, side by side, the secret that had bound them now a gaping wound exposed to the world. the setting sun cast long, ominous shadows, mirroring the darkness that had just fallen over their lives. y/n finally looked at jj, her eyes wide and unsure, a silent question passing between them: what now? the outer banks, already a powder keg, had just found its spark. their world had officially exploded.

[thesunpersists]

[liliesrafe]

a girl can dream