jj was sprawled across the hammock on the chateau porch, one arm hanging off the side while pope argued with kie over some dumb board game rule nobody actually cared about.
you sat cross-legged on the wooden steps, stealing fries out of john b’s carton while pretending not to notice the way people kept looking between you and jj lately.
it had started as a joke.
one stupid joke.
jj had thrown his arm around your shoulder at the boneyard one night and called you “baby” loud enough for half the island to hear, and suddenly everyone decided you were together.
and honestly neither of you corrected them. “you know kelce asked me if we were dating today,” you muttered.
jj snorted from the hammock. “what’d you say?”
“told him you cry after one beer and have severe mommy issues.”
“wow.” he placed a hand over his heart dramatically.
“you do cry after one beer.”
“only emotionally.”
pope groaned. “please stop flirting. some of us are trying to win.”
“jealous?” jj shot back instantly.
you laughed softly, shaking your head.
it was easy with jj. always easy. people saw the touching, the teasing, the way he always looked for you first in every room, and made assumptions.
the pogues especially which was exactly why none of them noticed when your phone buzzed with a text that made your stomach flip.
rafe: outside.
your heartbeat immediately sped up. you stood too quickly. “uh — i gotta go home for a sec.”
kie narrowed her eyes. “at nine?”
“my aunt needs help.”
jj looked suspicious for exactly two seconds before shrugging. “bring me back chips.”
“using me for my body.”
“using you for sour cream and onion, actually.”
you flipped him off affectionately before hurrying down the porch steps. and the second you rounded the side of the house there he was, leaning against his bike in the dark, black tee clinging to his arms, silver chain catching in the moonlight.
Rafe Cameron looked unfairly pretty at night. “you took forever,” he said.
“my friends exist, rafe.”
he grabbed your wrist the second you got close enough, tugging you between his legs where he stood beside the bike. “missed you.”
your face warmed instantly. “i saw you yesterday.”
“still missed you.”
his hands slid around your waist like muscle memory, and god, this was exactly why the rumors about you and jj were so convenient.
nobody suspected a thing because if the pogues found out you were secretly hooking up with rafe cameron? especially jj? absolute disaster. “you know everyone thinks i’m dating jj now,” you murmured.
rafe rolled his eyes immediately. “yeah, heard about that.”
“you jealous?” his jaw ticked which was answer enough and you grinned. “aw.”
“don’t start.”
“you are jealous.”
“i just think he touches you too much.”
you barked out a laugh. “you literally have me pinned against a bike right now.”
“different.”
“how?”
“because you’re mine.”
the words came out low. automatic. like he didn’t even realize he’d said them. your stomach flipped violently. rafe noticed your expression and immediately looked away, muttering, “whatever.”
“rafe.” you reached up, forcing him to look at you again. “that was kinda cute.”
“shut up.” he was blushing. actually blushing. you started laughing so hard he grabbed your face with one hand. “keep laughing and i’m leaving.”
“you adore me.”
“unfortunately.”
then he kissed you ,slow at first.
which nobody would believe if you told them, because rafe cameron acted meaner than he actually was. but with you, he always kissed you like he had something to prove and something to protect at the same time.
your fingers curled into his shirt when headlights suddenly flashed down the road. you both jerked apart instantly. “shit,” you whispered.
rafe glanced toward the street. “is that —”
“jj’s van.”
“you’re kidding.”
panic exploded through your body as the van got closer. “hide.”
“hide where?”
“i don’t know, rich boy, figure it out—”
before you could finish, rafe grabbed your waist and pulled you behind the side fence just as jj’s van rolled past slowly.
the window was down and for one horrifying second jj looked directly toward the yard.
your breathing stopped, rafe’s hand tightening on your hip. the van paused then finally kept driving. silence. you both waited another few seconds before exhaling at the same time.
“that was close,” you whispered.
rafe looked down at you, lips twitching slightly. “kinda hot though.”
you smacked his chest immediately while he laughed quietly against your forehead.
the headboard slams with each sloppy thrust of jjs hips into yours, you were in the bedroom of the chateau that jj had claimed as his own and you two practically shared since you were over so often. The other pogues were in the living room, right outside listening to everything. thin walls.
“Mmph- jackson”
only you were allowed to call him jackson.
“yea- fuck gonna make you cum f’me mama”
You guys have been going at it for 45 minutes straight now. 4 rounds. On your fifth now, you both tired out but still have stamina some how, sweat glistening on both of you guys foreheads and heavy breathing, not even bothering to go under the sheets because of the fact that john b never replaced the shitty ac and it was one of the hottest days in july, and the bedroom.
One of jjs hands rests on the headboard, a failed attempt at quieting the sounds of the lovemaking going on to their friends, the other grabbing at your tits, this man loves your tits, constantly grabbing at them anytime he could, always picking out low cut tops and small bikinis for you to wear just to admire your chest.
Suddenly you hear your favorite sound ever from jj.
He moans.
You love it when he moans, not holding back and being extremely loud to anyone within whatever space you guys were doing it in. jj has a tell. Whenever he gets close he starts moaning and whimpering, dropping his head down, resting his forehead on your shoulder and making those unholy sounds directly in your ear.
Fuck, it was so hot.
His sounds push you closer and closer to your climax, before you know it the heat in your stomach finally explodes into an orgasm that washes over your entire body, your legs shaking and back arching off the bed as you cum.
But suddenly, on his last thrust, jj moans and you hear a snap.
Suddenly you two are wrapped in a pile of sheets on the floor. You're both still breathing heavily and jj lets out an out-of-breath laugh,
“We broke the fucking bed!”
“And I'm pretty sure I broke my back,” you groan and stand up.
Apparently the sound attracted the pogues because once you guys got mostly decent you opened the door to sarah, john b, pope, cleo, and kie all standing outside the door.
“dude what happened?!” john b asks
“We broke the fucking bed!” jj exclaims.
Safe to say you two ended up falling asleep on jjs floor shortly after getting lectured by john b about the cost of buying a new bed frame, maybe one made out of metal would survive until you and jj move out.
summary ᯓ✦∘˙ car washing with the pogues, summer heat, and jj maybank doing what he does best: protecting you at all cost.
word count ᯓ✦∘˙ 2.8k~
jj maybank never said no to you.
not in the way that mattered.
sure, he might groan about it, drag his feet, swear up and down that you were gonna be the death of him one day—but he always did what you asked. always showed up. always stayed. even when it was inconvenient, even when it cost him sleep, money, or a little bit of pride. if it was you asking, it was already a yes. everyone knew it. jj knew it. he just didn’t bother fighting it anymore.
you weren’t like the rest of the kooks, but you weren’t cut either. you existed somewhere in the middle—close enough to understand both worlds, far enough to belong to neither. your family wasn’t rich, but your house wasn’t falling apart. you had rules, but not so many that you couldn’t sneak out. you wore hand-me-downs and thrifted clothes, but somehow always looked put together. to jj, you felt… safe. like a place he could land without being reminded of everything he didn’t have.
you and jj had always been close. not loudly, not dramatically—just naturally. like you gravitated toward each other without even trying. he’d sit closer to you than anyone else, lean into your space, rest his arm behind you without thinking. when the group split up, he always ended up at your side. it was instinct, muscle memory, something deeper than friendship but softer than something he knew how to name.
jj thought you were the most adorable person in the world.
genuinely. painfully.
the way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. the way you said his name like it was the easiest thing in the world to love him. the way you looked up at him with those big, hopeful eyes whenever you wanted something, like you truly believed he’d come through for you. and the worst part? he always did.
he couldn’t keep his hands off you. not in a way that felt wrong—just… constant. a hand on your shoulder as he passed by. fingers brushing yours when he handed you something. tugging you closer by the wrist, spinning you around just to hear you laugh. sometimes he’d rest his chin on your head, or pat it absentmindedly like it was the most natural thing in the world. you never flinched. never pulled away. and that alone made his chest ache in ways he didn’t understand.
anything you did felt amplified to him.
everything you did mattered.
and if jj maybank had a weakness— one thing in this world that could undo him completely, it was you, smiling at him like he was someone worth trusting.
the chateau is melting.
not literally, but the air inside is thick, unmoving, heavy with heat and the faint smell of sunscreen and old wood. the fan in the corner rattles uselessly, blowing warm air around like it’s trying its best and failing miserably.
john b is stretched across the couch, shirt abandoned somewhere on the floor, one leg hanging off the armrest. “i’m not even kidding,” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “i think i’m gonna pass out.”
“you say that every time it hits ninety,” pope says, sitting on the floor with his back against the coffee table, scrolling through his phone.
“yeah, and every time i mean it.”
kiara’s curled sideways in the armchair by the window, sunglasses still on even though she’s inside, iced tea sweating in her hand. “we should go to the beach,” she says lazily. “or the backyard. or literally anywhere with water.”
the screen door creaks as you push it open.
conversation dies instantly.
the heat has already kissed your skin, leaving your cheeks lightly flushed. your hair is pulled back in a loose half-up, secured with a simple clip, the rest falling freely down your back. a few strands have slipped loose, curling softly around your face and sticking to the back of your neck from the warmth.
you’re wearing denim shorts—soft, worn-in, sitting higher on your thighs than usual, short enough that it’s immediately noticeable. the yellow babydoll top is light and airy, fabric thin and slightly sheer in the sunlight, the hem floating away from your body when you move. it’s simple, sweet, unmistakably you and somehow that makes it hit harder.
the room goes quiet.
john b lowers his arm. pope looks up from his phone. kiara tips her sunglasses down just enough to get a better look.
everyone kind of stares.
not in a weird way. just… surprised.
jj, though?
jj lights up.
he’s on his feet before anyone says a word, grin already spreading across his face like he just won the lottery. “well damn,” he says, loud and unapologetic, eyes dragging over you without even pretending to hide it. “what’d i do to deserve this blessing today, huh?”
he crosses the room in three long strides and grabs your hands, spinning you once, twice, your laugh cutting through the stagnant air. the hem of your top flutters, sunlight flashing across your legs, and jj’s hands settle at your waist a beat longer than necessary when he finally stops you.
“look at you,” he adds, softer now, head tilting as he grabs your hand and spins you to checks you out again like he’s committing the sight to memory. “absolutely killin’ it.”
you smile, a little bashful, like you have no idea why everyone’s acting so weird, and that somehow makes it worse for him.
john b lets out a low whistle. kiara raises her eyebrows over the rim of her sunglasses. pope shakes his head, muttering something about this guy.
jj doesn’t care.
he’s still looking at you like the rest of the room doesn’t exist, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles as if he forgot he’s even holding your hands. “seriously,” he says, shaking his head with a crooked grin. “you can’t just walk in here like that. you got this look on your face that you're scared to ask me something.”
you tilt your head up at jj, sunlight catching the loose strands of hair that fell forward from your half‑up style, and say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world:
“so… since you always do the twinkie… could you help me wash my car later?”
for a beat, time sort of pauses.
jj’s grin falters just a little— that exact moment where he wants to pretend he’s annoyed but can’t keep the amusement out of his eyes.
“girl…” he starts, that drawl so familiar, “you serious right now?”
you nod silently with a smile painted on your face.
“you really wanna do that in this heat?"
you blink up at him, completely earnest. “well… it’s actually kind of–”
“–hot?” jj interrupts with a smirk.
“–yeah,” you finish with a little laugh. “but that’s why i figured if anyone can make it fun it’d be you.”
pogues immediately perk up.
john b raises an eyebrow from the couch. “make it fun? what kind of ‘fun’ are we talking here?”
pope snickers, “because last time fun involved way too much ice and somebody almost dumping a cooler on kie’s head.”
“c’mon, jay,” john b says from the couch, one brow raised, iced tea sweating in his hand. “you heard her. don’t leave her hanging.”
“yeah,” pope laughs, leaning forward a little, “you’re not gonna let her wash it with marsh water and old rags, are you?”
kiara just smirks at jj, like she’s quietly studying him and already knows exactly how this is gonna go.
jj holds your gaze for a beat longer— like he's trying to decide if you're being cute or if you're plotting something absolutely ridiculous.
“y/n,” he says, this time with a slow grin, “you know i’m gonna do it just because you asked, right?”
you blink, totally innocent, like that wasn’t obvious to everyone in the room.
“well… i mean… yeah?”
jj’s eyes flick back to you— and just like that, he sighs, a long, exaggerated thing that could’ve been annoyed but honestly sounds fond.
“alright, fine,” he says, hands in the air, “but you owe me big time. i could die of heat stroke out there.”
you brighten immediately— a soft, pure little smile and before you even think about it, your arms have looped around his neck in a tight, grateful squeeze.
“thank you!!” you whisper, voice all warm and happy.
for a second, jj just stands there, frozen, maybe because he didn’t expect a hug, maybe because you smelled like sunscreen and summer air and home, and then, almost gently, he hugs you back, one arm around your waist, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
the sun feels softer outside, still warm but gentle now that you’re out in the open air. you grab the hose with a little nervous excitement, watching water arch through sunlight like tiny rainbows before it hits the driveway. jj steps up beside you, buckets of suds and sponges waiting at your feet, and somehow it already feels like the most perfect summer afternoon.
everyone else is settled in their beach chairs nearby, iced drinks in hand, sunglasses on, content to be spectators to whatever mess you and jj are about to make. kie leans back with those big shades tilted just right, sipping slowly like she’s watching a movie she knows will get good. pope has one foot propped over the other, already laughing every time jj makes some ridiculous comment about how suds “offend his personal space.” john b, on the couch with his iced tea, has apparently appointed himself official car wash commentator, offering dramatic, unsolicited tips like this whole thing is a televised event.
you’re in your one‑piece now— pastel and sweet, the straps occasionally slipping just a bit when you stretch over the car and the way the light catches your hair makes it glow around your face. jj glances at you, smirk tugging at his mouth, then reaches over and pats your head like it’s the cutest thing in the world. “loving the new suit, baby,” he says, voice warm and teasing. “you look so adorable.”
you turn toward him with this soft little smile, cheeks warmed by the compliment and the heat and everything in between, a shy happiness that feels just right in the moment. your hair, loosely half‑up with a few curled strands stubbornly framing your face, bobs with the movement, catching the sun like it’s part of the whole golden scene.
and just like that, the hose in your hand, the suds glistening, the sounds of laughter and warm summer air wrapped around you— it hits you how perfect this kind of afternoon feels: sunlight, friends, warmth, laughter, and him right there beside you, easy and soft and right.
the pogues have basically claimed their lawn chairs like it’s the world’s slowest, most chaotic front‑row show. kie’s perched back in her seat, oversized sunglasses on, iced tea in hand while pope’s already cracking jokes about how jj’s “suds intensity” might be a threat to national safety. john b’s lounging with his drink propped against his stomach, offering commentary like he’s the unofficial host of car wash irl, but honestly, none of them even come close to what’s actually happening between you and jj.
you’re bent over the hood of your car, sponge in hand, sunlight catching the pastel of your one‑piece and turning everything golden around you. your hair is still that soft, loose half‑up, strands nudging against your neck in the warmth, and every so often you tilt your head just a little— enough for jj to notice.
“here,” jj says beside you, voice low and a little rough from laughing too much already. he places his hand over yours on the sponge, guiding the motion like it’s nothing. his fingers are warm, and for a second, there’s this pause— not awkward, just… close. the kind of moment where the sun feels softer and everything sounds just a little quieter except for him.
“suds first,” he murmurs against your ear, tone low enough that you feel it in your chest, not just your ears.
you blink up at him through lashes that catch the light, and for a second your cheeks heat— not from the sun, but because he’s that close, and the world feels warm and contained between his shoulder and yours.
you try to focus on the car… but suds slide off the sponge and down your hand, and jj’s thumb brushes against your wrist as he readjusts. there’s this soft electricity to how natural it feels— like a familiar pull you didn’t even realize was there until it’s right beside you.
“okay…” you say, voice a little breathy, “suds first.”
he smirks, eyes flashing— not with sarcasm, but something softer, almost like pride. “yeah,” he says, voice low, “that’s the way.”
the way the sun hits his face makes every warmth in the world feel pointed directly at you, and his hand lingers just a heartbeat longer on yours before he pulls back— not far, just enough that you can still feel his energy there.
it starts with a suspicious amount of quiet.
you’re rinsing suds off the hood, hose arcing clean water over the paint, when jj squints toward the porch. “why are they being so quiet,” he mutters. “that’s never good.”
you barely have time to turn before—
SPLASH.
ice-cold water smacks against your side, soaking your ribs and making you gasp. a second later, another wave hits jj square in the chest.
“OH—ABSOLUTELY NOT,” jj yells, jumping back as pope stands up from his chair holding a red cup absolutely packed with ice water, laughing way too hard.
john b’s already halfway across the yard with another cup. “commentary break!” he shouts. “introducing: pogue car wash EXTREME!”
kie doesn’t even get up — she just casually flicks her wrist and sends a perfect splash your way, iced tea cup long abandoned for something far colder. “you two looked way too comfortable,” she says sweetly. “had to fix that.”
you squeal, stumbling back as freezing water soaks your swimsuit, the shock of it ripping a laugh out of you whether you want it to or not. “KIE—”
the click of the hose.
jj’s head snaps up. “oh no.”
john b is already grinning like a menace, hands tight around the nozzle as he cranks it open. “ladies and gentlemen,” he announces, “the main event.”
the hose erupts.
a powerful stream of water shoots straight toward you.
you barely have time to gasp before jj moves.
“HEY—!” he shouts, but his body’s already in motion.
he grabs you by the waist and yanks you behind him in one smooth pull, turning his back fully to the spray as he wraps both arms around you, tucking you tight against his chest. your face presses into his shoulder, your hands clutching his sides as the water slams into him full-force.
cold spray explodes everywhere.
“JOHN B!” jj yells, half-laughing, half-yelling as the hose pounds into his back. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
you squeak, laughing and shrieking at the same time, fingers fisting in his soaked shirt. “JAY—IT’S SO COLD!”
“I KNOW,” he shouts back, tightening his hold on you, feet planted wide so you don’t slip. “I GOT YOU—YOU’RE GOOD—”
water runs down his neck, his hair plastered to his forehead, shirt completely drenched, but he doesn’t budge. he leans forward just a little, like a human shield, taking every hit so you don’t have to.
pope is losing it, bent over laughing. “BRO IS SACRIFICING HIMSELF.”
kie finally stands up, laughing so hard she has to wipe her eyes. “jj you look like a soggy golden retriever!”
john b keeps spraying, cackling. “this is cinema!”
the force of the water makes you both stumble a step back and you yelp, instinctively clinging tighter.
“WOAH—” you squeal.
jj immediately locks his arms around you. “NOPE—NOT FALLIN’ TODAY,” he yells, laughing like a maniac. “I GOT YOU, SWEETHEART!”
finally, kie shouts, “OKAY, OKAY, CUT IT—” and pope lunges for the hose, wrestling it down as the spray shoots straight into the air, raining back over the driveway.
the water cuts off.
for half a second, everything is dripping silence.
then you and jj just lose it.
you’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe, forehead pressed into his chest as water drips from both of you. jj throws his head back, laughing loud and wild, still hugging you like he forgot how to let go.
“worth it,” he wheezes.
“absolutely worth it,” you laugh, still half-screaming as another giggle rips out of you.
around you, the pogues are yelling, laughing, soaked, pointing at jj like he didn’t just volunteer as a human shield.
and jj? jj just squeezes you tighter, laughing and yelling right along with you, soaking wet, chaos everywhere, summer ringing loud in the air — and for him, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
summary: Rafe has been begging you to move in with him, but when you finally show him the place your heart belongs to, he realizes he'd do anything to make you happy.
content: fluff, angst, a drizzle of spice, semi-canon obx if you were to eliminate some pretty important things lol
cw: mentions of blood and injury, suggestive comments, closed-door romance, mentions of abusive parents (Luke)
note: my contribution to @zyafics mrga campaign <3
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“Don’t open your eyes yet!”
“I’m gonna trip over something and fall on my ass. Or run into something. This is The Cut, who knows what junk is just lying around. I’m gonna get tetris or some shit.”
You laughed out loud. Rafe nearly opened his eyes to figure out why.
“See, now you’re laughing at me, you better not be doing some dumb shit to me for a Tiktok,” he warned.
“Oh my god, you’re such a baby, calm down,” you chuckled. “I’m laughing because you’re cute. It’s tetanus, not tetris.”
He should feel embarrassed, but the sound of your laugh and of you calling him cute calmed every muscle in his body. You were a balm that went straight to his agitated heart.
You were the only one who could disarm him when he got irritated like this. You told him once that you don’t take his bad moods personally because you can see them for what they are - he’s not angry, he’s anxious. He realized then that you’re the only person who’d ever really understood him, that you might understand him better than he understands himself.
It’s why his shoulders relax now, it’s why he can take a deep breath. There was no one else in the world who could convince him to let them drive his boat while he’s blindfolded or walk through the tall, marshy grass without knowing where he was going. Only you.
“Can I open my eyes now?” He asked.
“We’re not there yet,” you shook your head, hand still on his arm to lead him closer to your surprise. “You can go one more minute without seeing where you’re going.”
“Maybe, but I don’t know if I can go another minute without seeing you,” he flirted.
You smiled, tempted to rip the blindfold off him and forget all about the surprise. Too bad for him you already knew all his tricks.
“Nice try, Cameron.”
As you got closer, your stomach twisted. Maybe this was stupid. After all, wouldn’t it be underwhelming to Rafe after all he’s seen? This place meant so much to you, you didn’t know if you could handle any criticism from him. You considered turning around, but you’d already made such a big deal out of this, how would you explain it to him?
“Okay, this is a good spot, I guess,” you said, your voice shaking with trepidation.
“You good?” Rafe asked. Of course he could tell your mood shifted without even looking at you.
“Yeah, I think, just open your eyes.” At this point you just wanted to get his inevitable disappointment over with.
Slowly, Rafe opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to adjust to the blinding Carolina sunlight before finally sizing up your big reveal.
It was your house, the one he’d been to a hundred times before - sneaking into your window so your brother wouldn’t hear, showing up in the night to investigate when you “heard a noise,” defending you from Luke when he got violent. Except, this wasn’t the same house. It was bigger, for one. And slightly better, with new walls, a new roof, and a big, hand painted flag in your brother’s handwriting: “Poguelandia.”
It wasn’t much, but it was your dream come true. In your eyes, you may as well have been standing in front of a magic castle. As you watched Rafe’s expression stay completely unchanged you realized that to him, it probably still looked like some shitty shack on The Cut. You wished you never brought him here.
“This is what you guys have been working on this whole time?” He asked, still looking at the house and not at you.
“Yeah, I mean, and the store,” you gestured to the dock behind you where you and your friends had built yourselves a small business. Another thing that would surely seem pathetic compared to what Rafe was used to.
“It’s nice, I like it,” Rafe said.
“No it’s okay, you don’t have to lie,” you said, voice small. You started to turn to leave. “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it, let’s just go-”
“Hey, woah, woah,” Rafe interrupted you gently.
He approached you from behind, arms twisting around your waist, forcing you to turn back and look at your home. He had to duck down to slot his chin into your shoulder, swaying you both gently.
“If I had to come all this way, I think I at least deserve the grand tour, don’t I?” he mumbled into your ear.
Your smile returned, you nuzzled your cheek into his, heart swelling.
“I guess, if you insist,” you said with a cheeky grin.
“I do,” he nodded, tickling your neck with his buzzed hair. He tilted his head down to place a sloppy kiss into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m especially looking forward to seeing your bedroom.”
“You mean the one I share with your sister?”
He groaned, “why do you torture me like this?”
“Because it’s fun.” You twisted away from his hold and slid your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers with his.
Rafe followed you onto the porch. You paused at the front door for dramatic effect.
“Hello MTV, welcome to my crib!”
Rafe smiled as you cracked up at your own joke, but his momentary joy turned sour when you opened the door and revealed an unwelcome sight on the other side; the Pogues.
The lively discussion that had been filling your shared living room stopped dead in its tracks. The room turned cold. Six icy stares were aimed in your boyfriend’s direction.
You understood why they disliked him so much. He didn’t put much effort into changing their minds. But he’d changed yours. And though you’d tried for years not to, you loved him. Neither of you had said it yet, but you knew it was true, at least for you.
There had been countless arguments between you and your brother and the shared friends that were basically family about Rafe. Countless fights you’d stopped between JJ and Rafe, countless nights begging Rafe just to try a little harder, begging JJ just to give him a chance. They both cared for you enough not to kill each other, but it was a reluctant ceasefire. A fragile peace you were always vigilant to protect. A truce that could be broken at any moment. You prayed this wasn’t that moment.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you guys were home,” you explained. The six pogues shared concerned glances with each other, something unsaid that you felt had nothing to do with you walking in with their least favorite person. “What’s going on?”
Kie stood, shot a brief but blazing glare towards Rafe, and handed you a piece of paper. You read it carefully, your eyebrows creased in confusion that was slowly morphing into great concern. Rafe read over your shoulder.
It was an official warning from the Kildare City Council. The land you were standing on and the home you’d built would be rezoned. They were taking Poguelandia.
“What the hell?” You shouted. “Can they actually do this?”
“Looks like they already are,” John B confirmed.
“No, no. There has to be something we can -”
“There’s not!” JJ stood from his seat at the far end of the room.
You could see it all over his face, the anger that was always lying just beneath the surface starting to make its way to the top. Everyone thought of JJ as a happy-go-lucky, silly, mischievous kid. And he was all those things, but he was something else, something only you really saw; a hurt kid who never healed.
“There’s never something we can do,” JJ continued, stalking slowly toward you, but keeping his eyes locked on Rafe the whole time. “Not when Kooks are involved. They always win.”
“Back up, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, looking down at JJ, who’d gotten close enough to break the barrier of Rafe’s personal space.
You stepped between them instinctually, a move you’d made a hundred times before.
“Stop.” You put a gentle hand on JJ’s chest to back him up, but he didn’t budge. “This isn’t his fault, J.”
“How do we know that, huh?” JJ finally tore his eyes off Rafe to look at you. “How do we know he’s not behind it somehow? Trying to steal our land for another bougie ass development project. You can’t trust these people, sis. How many times do we have to get screwed by them before you realize it?”
You and your brother looked at each other for a long time. The rest of the room watched as the two of you seemed to have a conversation none of them could hear; the unspoken language of siblings who’d been to hell and back together.
After a long moment, you turned your gaze toward Rafe.
“Do- do you know anything about this?” You asked him hesitantly.
His face fell. A series of emotions flashed across his features so quickly, you were sure you were the only one in the room who caught them all; surprise, betrayal, hurt, anger, and finally, back to his go-to: detached stoicism.
“That’s really what you think of me? That I’d do something like this?” His tone was even, his voice far away even though you were inches apart.
You knew you’d hurt him by even entertaining the idea that he’d betray you like this. But this ground was shaky, and you had been screwed over by Kooks your entire life. The trust you put in him did not come easy, and sometimes it wavered, even though he’d never given it any reason to.
Rafe’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer. He nodded once, his lips twisting into the kind of smile that had absolutely no joy behind it.
“Unbelievable.” He muttered.
He took one last searing look around the room, twelve hateful eyes met him, and he didn’t look at your watery ones before turning and storming out of the house, the newly installed screen door banging shut behind him.
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Your knees were tucked all the way to your chest, your chin resting on them as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to manufacture any sort of comfort. It wasn’t working.
The zone change notice sat on the bed in front of you. You read it over and over, as though if you just wanted it badly enough, the words would change into something less devastating.
You were going to lose your home. You’d probably lost the love of your life, before you could even tell him he was the love of your life. Your brother was one step from completely falling over the edge, the rocky path toward destruction that you’d pulled him back from your whole lives getting steeper by the minute. A few hours ago you were excitedly cleaning this room so you could show Rafe. How could so much change in so little time?
A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.
“Come in,” you said quietly.
The door creaked slightly despite it being brand new. Sarah tiptoed into the room gently, searching you for any signs of distress.
“Sar, you don’t have to knock to come into your own room,” you told her.
“I know, I just thought maybe you needed some space.”
You shook your head and scooted over on the bed to make space for her. She took your invitation with a smile and settled in next to you.
“So…how’s your day going?” She asked in a singy-songy voice.
You both erupted in bittersweet laughter.
“Oh y’know, I’ve had better.”
She nudged your arm with her elbow.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, you know.” She assured you.
“Is it though? I mean really, Sar, is it?” No laughter hung in the air now. “I mean, what if I just lost my home and my boyfriend? Or worse, what if I just lost my home to my boyfriend.”
“You really think Rafe would’ve done something like this?” She asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to. You heard him though, when I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it.”
Sarah sighed, a deep exhale that usually signaled she was about to say something she didn’t want to.
“What?” You prodded.
“Look, I’m not my brother’s biggest fan, you know that,” she began.
“Um yes, you’ve made that very clear,” you chuckled, thinking of all the times Sarah had warned you not to get involved with Rafe.
“But, just this one time, I’m going to…” She paused dramatically, her eyes screwed shut with reluctance. “...defend him.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Be honest, how hard was that for you to say?” You teased.
“I’m holding back vomit right now,” she laughed.
“Well then defend him quickly before you yack on my bed.”
“Okay, I just,” she paused to consider her words carefully. “I know you know Rafe really well. I mean you’re the only one he’s ever really let in, so you probably know him better than anyone. But I’ve known him longer than anyone. I’ve seen every version of him. I knew Rafe before he met you, and now I know him after he met you, and believe me when I tell you, those two are not the same guy. As cliche as it sounds, you changed him.”
You sat in silence, letting the words settle over you, surprised by how emotional they were making you. You willed the tears forming in your eyes not to fall.
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a dick,” Sarah added. You were grateful for a reason to laugh before you started crying. “But he’s not the same. There was a time where I’d say ‘absolutely, Rafe definitely did this just to screw us over,’ but not anymore. Not since he fell in love with you.”
You looked up in surprise, the tears at your lash line threatening to finally spill over.
“You think he loves me?”
“Girl, be so for real. That man has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Believe me, he’s yours.”
Your heart skipped, and the tears finally fell. You rose from the bed so suddenly, Sarah almost fell back onto the mattress. You didn’t know what had taken over you, just that you needed to go, now. Everything in you was being pulled toward him, like sand being dragged back out to sea by the tide. If you spent one more minute of your life without him knowing what you were so certain of now, you might not make it.
Sarah smiled at you, she read it all over your face.
“Go!” She urged.
“Love you!” You shouted over your shoulder as you raced out of your bedroom.
“Love you too, you freak,” she smiled to herself, knowing you were already long gone.
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Where could he have gone? Your mind flipped through all the possibilities as you ran across the lawn toward the dock. JJ would probably be pissed that you took The Snapper without asking first, but didn’t even care about that right now. You just needed to find Rafe.
You didn’t have to search for long.
As soon as your feet hit the wooden dock, they stopped in their tracks.
At the end of the pier sat Rafe’s boat bobbing in the water. The long figure of your boyfriend leaned over the bow. You watched with a big, bright smile as he untied the line, then retied it, then untied it, and retied it once more. He was clearly having a silent disagreement with himself. All that mattered to you was that he hadn’t left.
You approached slowly, avoiding the planks in the dock you knew would creak and give away your presence. The closer you got to him, the faster your heart beat. The words you were dying to say sat perched at the end of your tongue, you knew they wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer.
Half way through untying the boat again, Rafe stopped and sighed.
“Need a push?” You said.
His eyes shot up to yours, startled. Tension filled his shoulders as he took you in, his shock quickly fading to something softer, yet still unsure.
“That depends,” he squinted in the sun to see you better.
God, he was gorgeous. You could not let him get away.
“Depends on what?” You played along.
“If my girlfriend will forgive me for being a dismissive prick,” he said.
You forced your lips not to twist into a smile, pretending to consider his words.
“I think she might. If you forgive her first,” you said.
His eyes softened, lips twitching. You were both failing not to smile at each other now.
Rafe finally tied up the boat for good, hopping up onto the dock. You admired every movement of his body as it drew closer to yours. When he reached you, he placed his hands on your waist, your arms drawing up to wrap around his neck, stretching up on your tiptoes to get as close to him as possible.
“She has nothing to apologize for. The only home she’s ever known is being threatened. She’s just scared. I get that.”
Every word fanned over you like a soft summer breeze. Your heart warmed, impossibly full despite all the anxieties today had brought. He just got you, he understood without you having to say it. This must be the closest two people can get to making magic, you thought.
“Thank you,” you let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. He kissed the top of your head.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered into your hair.
You looked back up at him, shaking your head.
“How is everything gonna be okay, Rafe? What if there really is nothing we can do? I mean, who’s even behind this?”
Rafe didn’t answer, but one name popped into his mind. Even with his suspicions, he didn’t know if he could help you. Helplessness was the feeling he despised more than any other, especially when it came to you.
“I don’t know,” he said, his heart breaking at the despairing look on your face. “But you’ve still got me. You could always move into the condo with me, like I’ve been begging you for months.”
“Can I bring my friends with me?” You scrunched up your nose, hoping he’d find you cute enough to say yes.
“I love you, but there’s no way in hell…”
A bolt of lightning shot through you, goosebumps erupting over your entire body. Did he really just say…?
He instantly read the shock on your face, but there was no look of regret on his.
“What? Haven’t I said I love you before?”
“Umm, no, I think I would’ve remembered that!” You couldn’t help the big, goofy grin taking over your whole face.
“Oh, well that’s weird,” he shrugged, his hands sliding from your waist to your lower back, wrapping his strong arms around you and lifting you off your feet. “Because I do love you, so fucking much.”
You yelped as he lifted you into the air, head falling back in laughter as he almost tumbled you both off the dock in his effort to sweep you off your feet.
You looked down at him and he lowered you slowly, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, arms still wrapped around each other like you’d never let go. You stood there embracing for a long time, so long that the sun was starting to set, casting a golden shimmer across the water.
Finally you said, “I never gave you the grand tour.”
“And I was really looking forward to seeing your crib,” he teased, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck when he talked.
“Well, c’mon then.” You grabbed his hand, leading him back toward the house, both of you buzzing with the excitement that there was something much better than a tour waiting for you inside.
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“...And this is John B and JJ’s room,” you opened the door only a crack, afraid to unleash the stench that permanently filled the space. “They insisted on getting bunk beds even though they’re, like, forty. And Pope insisted on having his own room because, as he said, ‘JJ is a walking biohazard.’ Which is…fair.”
Rafe was just watching you with adoration as you showed him around the house. He was barely looking at the rooms you were showing him because he was so focused on the way you glowed with joy. It was true that he wanted you to move to Bayline with him, it was his life’s goal to get you there, actually, but he had to admit that you seemed like you really belonged here. He’d never seen you look more at home.
“And this is our gallery wall.” You gestured to the display of framed photographs hanging in the upstairs hallway.
Rafe surveyed them dutifully with his hands tucked politely behind his back, like an old man in an art museum. Most of the photographs were of you and the pogues at various times in your life. Out fishing in the marsh, riding dirt bikes, post-surf at the beach. You admired the way Rafe was looking so intently and resisting the urge to grimace at so many photos of you with his once sworn enemies.
He explored the wall, eyes lingering on any photo of you a little longer than the rest. The hall continued to lead down toward your bedroom. At the very end, in a high corner, just above a series of photo booth pictures you’d taken with Sarah and Kie last summer, hung a delicate circular frame featuring a worn-out picture almost too small to see. Rafe leaned in for a better look.
In the photo, which was a tad faded and clearly taken several years ago, was a young guy, probably about 30, holding two young kids on his lap. The slightly bigger one, a boy, held up a trout he’d just caught, flashing a toothless grin. The little girl beamed at the man holding her.
It took Rafe a moment, but when he felt your weight shift next to him uncomfortably, he put it all together. The photo was you, JJ, and Luke. Probably the only one you had. And despite everything Luke had put you through, you’d hung it on the wall to see everyday.
Rafe turned to you, you were looking down at your feet, toes digging anxiously into the rug. His heart ached. If anyone knew what it was like to have a complicated relationship with their father, it was him. The fact that you’d still given Luke some dignity in this house he almost destroyed so many times said so much about you, and reminded him why he loved you so much.
“You wanna show me your room now?” He asked gently.
You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a small smile, “yeah.”
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The door clicked closed softly. Rafe took in the room, immediately identifying which bed was yours and which bed (the messy, half-made one) was his sister’s.
“Sarah doesn’t spend much time in here,” you admitted.
“No?” He asked, keeping his eyes off of you, the closed door suddenly adding a nervous energy to the room he wasn’t expecting.
“She mainly sleeps with John B.” Rafe grimaced, you hurried to reassure him. “Like, in his bed I mean, or his bunk I guess. Not, like sleep with him sleep with him, although I’m sure there’s plenty of that -”
“I’m literally begging you to stop talking,” he said, his eyes finding the ceiling, no doubt trying to erase the mental picture you just created for him.
“Sorry,” you chuckled.
Rafe wandered around the room some more, taking in all your decorations. He never understood why someone could collect so many knick-knacks that seemed to be worth nothing, but there was something endearing about it that drew him to you even more. Just another in a long line of things that would annoy him with someone else, but enchanted him with you.
As your time alone in the room dragged on, the air became tenser. You felt yourself watching him, but unable to move, back pressed up against the door, frozen in anticipation.
You and Rafe had been alone together before - and you had been together before - but something had shifted out on that dock. Something that you knew you couldn’t take back, and didn’t want to. In fact, you only wanted to solidify it more.
“Rafe,” you said softly, finally pulling his attention away from your decor.
He looked up at you expectantly, like he had been waiting for you to give him permission to. He didn’t respond, just walked slowly toward you, his eyes on yours the whole way. Your heart was beating out of your chest.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” you said, trying to laugh to break the tension, though the sound came out more like a hiccup.
“Has something changed?” He wondered aloud.
“Yeah, I guess it has.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “Because today I realized two important things.”
“What two things?” He asked, surprised, and a little alarmed, by your answer.
“The first is that this is my home, and that in a way, it will always be my home. And yet at the same time, I also realized that you’re my future, and I love you.”
Rafe’s smile spread slowly, like he was taking in each word one at a time. His blue eyes sparkled - like actually sparkled - with joy. Maybe you were imagining it, but it didn’t matter, you just wanted him to keep looking at you like that.
“Oh you love me, huh?” His voice was low and dangerous, he stepped closer until he was towering over you.
“Yeah, haven’t I said that before?” You echoed his words from earlier back to him.
He just shook his head at you, tucking his tongue in the corner of his cheek to try and tame his smile. His hands found your waist like they were made to fit there. His voice carried down to your very core as he leaned in.
“You know you can’t take it back now, right?”
“Why would I take it back? I mean it, Rafe, with everything I have. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And he showed you. His body enveloping yours as he backed you up against the door and kissed you deeply. A whole new energy between you now, your need and your affection for each other stronger than ever.
Before you could get carried away, footsteps on the stairs reminded you of a very crucial step of bringing your boyfriend home.
“Wait, hold on.” You pulled away from Rafe and he frowned. His disappointment was so cute you were tempted to kiss the pout right off of him, but first you rummaged through a drawer in you and Sarah’s shared dresser.
“What is that?” Rafe asked when you pulled out a conch shell glued to a piece of twine.
“Just a little system Sarah and I have.” You winked at him, opening the door just a crack to hang the shell from the doorknob.
“Do I want to know?” Rafe asked.
“I don’t know, do you want to talk more about your sister’s love life, or work on ours?” You bit back your smile when he cringed at your words, suddenly realizing Sarah’s use for the shell with a shudder.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, before scooping you up and carrying you over his shoulder, just to drop you on the bed with a bounce.
“Yes, I am,” you smiled up at him.
And he showed you, over and over, just how lucky you were.
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It was different this time, more passionate, more intense, more everything. And when he held you after, whispering more I love you’s into your hair, and neck, and the side of your face, you knew it must’ve felt the same for him, too.
You laid tucked into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could intertwine his fingers with yours as you both stared up at the ceiling in pure bliss.
You sighed a happy, airy sigh and nuzzled closer to him.
“You know I just mean for now, right?” You said.
He twisted his neck at what must’ve been an uncomfortable angle to try and see your face.
“You just love me for now?” He asked, incredulous.
“No, no!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant to say, this is just my home for now.”
“Oh, okay,” he rested his head back onto the pillow. “That’s better, I guess.”
You sat up, shuffling through the sheets so you could see him. You brought your legs up and sat criss cross on the bed next to him. Rafe lazily reached out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear as he waited for the words he knew you were trying to formulate. He loved that you thought so hard before speaking, always determined to say what you mean. You loved that he waited to hear what you had to say, a patience he reserved almost exclusively for you.
“I know it must seem weird,” you began, “that I’m so attached to a place with so many bad memories. And I know you want me to live with you, and I want that too, eventually. But you have to understand, for so much of my life, it was just me and JJ. It was just us in this house. Even though a lot of it was us hiding from Luke or fending for ourselves when he didn’t come home for days at a time, there are good memories hidden in all the bad ones. Like, at the bottom of the stairs, there’s a spot where JJ and I accidentally ran our sled into the wall when we were stair-surfing. We covered it with chewed bubblegum and colored it in with marker, and Luke never noticed. Or in the kitchen, there’s tally marks under the countertop where we used to keep track of how many beers Luke had so we knew when it was time to go to John B’s for the night. And on the old dock, where our store is now, we made each other a pinky promise that someday we’d grow up and make something of ourselves and buy this house right out from under him. And we did it! And now, they’re just going to, what, take it away? Punish us for rising above the low expectations that they set for us? We were hurt here, yeah. But we also survived here. We did it together. I can’t leave that, or him, not now, not yet.”
Rafe drank in your words, and when tears came, he didn’t wipe them away or tell you to stop crying, he just let them fall. Let you feel what you needed to feel. His hand stayed firmly rested on your leg, there to hold only if you wanted it.
Through sobs you finally said, “this is our home, Rafe. We’re gonna lose our home.”
He’d heard enough. He stood from the bed quickly, pulling on his khakis and polo wordlessly.
“Where are you going?”
Rafe turned to look at you, saw the worry in your eyes and leaned over your bed so his face was level with yours. You would have been frightened by the steel in his eyes if you weren’t so excited by it.
“You asked me how it was going to be okay, right?” He said, voice low and tinged with danger.
You just nodded, unsure what to make of this sudden change in demeanor.
“It’s going to be okay because I’m going to make it okay.”
With that he stood and stalked toward the door, stopping to look at you one more time.
“Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll be back in a bit.”
You didn’t bother to ask where he was going, you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. When he had a plan like this, there was no slowing him down. Usually, his plans were self-serving. He was a strategist, like his father. Only now, it seemed, you were the beneficiary of his plot, and you weren’t sure what to expect.
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It sure as hell wasn’t the doorbell ringing at two in the morning.
It had started to storm and the thunder was rumbling through the house. It took a few rings before you could even hear the doorbell over the sound of the rain. Sarah lay on one side of you, Kie on the other, Cleo at the foot of the bed. They’d come to comfort you after Rafe left and you all cried yourself to sleep talking about the future of Poguelandia.
You accidentally kicked Cleo when you got up, who then kicked Sarah, who reached over and hit Kie in the arm as if it was her fault. Everyone was awake now.
“Noise. Bad. Make it stop,” Sarah grumbled into her pillow.
“Hit me again and I’ll make you stop breathing,” Kie said, her threat a little deflated considering she made it with her eyes still closed.
The doorbell rang out again, in rapid succession this time, causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.
“Who the hell rings the doorbell at 2 a.m.?” Sarah whined.
“If it’s those goddamn Jehovah’s Witnesses again, I’m gonna shove their little pamphlet down their throats,” Cleo said.
“I’ll get it,” you said through a yawn.
“Wait, you’re gonna go alone?” Kie grabbed your hand to pull you back.
“What if you get murdered?” Sarah said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
Kie and Sarah both climbed out of bed with you, but Cleo didn’t budge.
“If you get murdered let me know,” she said, pulling the blankets tighter around her. “I will avenge you.”
Kie rolled her eyes and pulled the blankets off Cleo, Sarah grabbed her hand to drag her from the bed.
“You’re coming with us, babe,” Sarah said over Cleo’s protests. “And bring your knife.”
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Lightning struck somewhere across the marsh at the exact second the door flew open. You and all three girls, wrapped in your blankets and holding various kitchen utensils, screamed at the sight on the other side. A dark figure of a man stood on the front porch, too far from the light for anyone to make out his identity. Cleo stepped in front of you all with her knife wielded.
“Hey! You better show yourself or get lost,” she shouted at the figure.
As the man slowly made his way into the flickering porch light, you realized you recognized the broad curve of those shoulders, the slope of that neck.
“Rafe,” you whispered.
Just as you identified him, the porch light swept across his face, and all four of you gasped.
The same places on his face you’d laid gentle kisses just a few hours ago were now black and blue, except in the places they were bloody. And he wasn’t walking slowly toward the light, he was limping, barely able to stand. He leaned against the door frame, holding his right hand in his left, his knuckles were raw and wounded.
“Rafe!” You repeated, pushing past your friends to get to him. You tried to support his weight but you couldn’t manage it alone. Sarah came to his other side to help catch him as he stumbled forward.
Kie, however, took a defensive step backward, her arms crossed over her chest. Cleo kept her knife raised.
“Think you can put down the knife now, babe,” Sarah told her.
“You never know,” Cleo said, narrowing her eyes at Rafe.
“Cleo, look at him,” you scolded.
She gave Rafe a once over, finally determining he wasn’t a threat in this state.
“Let’s get him on the couch,” you told Sarah. “Quickly, before he falls.”
Cleo stepped away to allow you to walk Rafe further into the living room. Kie created more distance between herself and your bloodied house guest. You searched her face quickly, it was a mixture of alarm and defensiveness. You could see the decision as it was being made, you tried to stop her but you were too late.
“Kie, wait!”
But she was already running up the stairs, surely to wake the boys. There was no version of these circumstances that would be made better by your half-awake, hotheaded brother.
You and Sarah finally got Rafe on the couch. He leaned forward, grimacing in pain as he propped his head in his hands. You knelt in front of him, trying to find his eyes with yours.
“Rafe, baby, what happened? Are you okay? Please talk to me.”
You placed your hands on his legs, rubbing soothing circles, begging him to fill the silence with an explanation. You looked at Sarah with pure panic in your eyes, she looked back with concern. Whether it was for you or for her brother, you weren’t sure.
“Rafe, it’s okay, whatever it is, you can tell us,” she encouraged him.
You’d never been more thankful for your best friend. You knew how much it took for her to offer him comfort like that.
You reached up to cup Rafe’s cheek in your hand, touching gently so as to not worsen his pain.
“Please, baby, what happened?”
He finally looked at you, and your heart skipped a beat. You thought maybe he was going to confess something terrible, or else cry out in agony. But instead, he just smiled that soft, sleepy half-smile of his and placed his hand over top of yours, caressing your skin with his thumb.
“I made it okay,” he whispered to you.
Before you could react, footsteps thundered down the stairs behind you, the fury of their descent louder than the storm outside.
“What the hell is going on?” JJ bellowed.
“What are you doing here, Cameron?” Pope followed up.
John B rushed to Sarah’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Everything okay?” He asked the both of you.
“I don’t know,” you shook your head, rising to sit next to Rafe on the couch, slipping your hand into his. The sight only enraged JJ further.
“You have ten seconds to explain yourself and stop bleeding on our fucking couch, Rafe.” JJ barked.
“Jay, can’t you see he’s obviously hurt?” You snapped at your brother.
“Looks more like he did the hurting,” JJ replied.
“You don’t know that! You always assume the worst!” You yelled.
“Because he is the worst!” JJ yelled right back.
You stood in anger, ready to fight your own brother in defense of the man at your side. But Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him, not lifting his head as he held you in place. His other hand reached into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of paper that had been folded to protect it from the rain.
Rafe looked up finally, but not at you, at JJ. He extended his arm to offer JJ the piece of paper.
JJ tiptoed over as if Rafe had somehow booby trapped the floorboards between them. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.
With all eyes on him, and no sound but the storm outside, JJ unfolded the piece of paper. He read it for a long time. Like, a really long time. The little sister in you had to bite back a joke about his intellect, and you met eyes with Pope to see he was holding back the same comment. Even in this incredibly adult moment, you were kids together.
Finally, JJ looked up from the paper. Staring incredulously at Rafe.
“Is this for real?” JJ asked him, eyebrows raised.
Rafe just nodded, the movement causing the cut on his lip to open, making him wince in pain. You sat down beside him again, watching him anxiously for signs that he was hurt elsewhere.
JJ just stared at the two of you for a moment before turning and leaving the room, dropping the piece of paper on the coffee table as he left. Pope and John B went to it immediately to read what had caused JJ to storm out, but you didn’t even care at this point, all that mattered was Rafe being okay, you needed him to be okay.
Except, JJ hadn’t stormed out. He had only gone to the kitchen, from which he was now returning, a bottle of whiskey and a bag of frozen peas in hand. He offered both to Rafe, Rafe opted for the whiskey. He twisted open the cap and took a sip, wincing as it went down.
You grabbed the peas from your brother, holding them up to Rafe’s black eye. He flinched at the contact but settled after a minute. JJ watched as Rafe placed his hand on your leg gratefully and handed back the bottle of whiskey.
“What’s the bourbon for? Drowning our sorrows?” Cleo asked.
“No,” John B said, he and Pope looking up from the paper with disbelieving grins. “Celebrating.”
“What does it say?” Kie asked, stepping further into the room, though she continued to eye Rafe like he was a wild animal that could go feral at any minute.
“We got the land back. They’re not rezoning,” Pope explained. “We’re keeping Poguelandia.”
The room froze for a minute, then erupted in a burst of hoots and hollers. Finally, the storm had some noise to compete with. The others hugged and cheered. Sarah rose from the couch and threw herself into John B’s arms.
“How’d you do it, man?” John B asked Rafe.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe said, squeezing your leg three times. “I just took care of it, okay?”
He sounded aggressive, like he always did when addressing these six people, but you saw this for what it really was - a peace offering. A grand gesture. A declaration of his love for you. He gave you your home back, he gave you everything.
As the others continued to celebrate, the volume in the house reaching new heights as they passed around the bottle of whiskey and toasted Poguelandia, you leaned into Rafe, your chin tucked into his shoulder so you could whisper something in his ear.
He smiled at your words, raising his arm to wrap around your shoulders and curling you toward him so he could bring his lips to your temple.
“I love you, too.”
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂
a/n: had to come out of retirement for this one, missed my boy too much. and holy shit did I have fun writing for rafey again. also this is as canon as I'll write Rafe lol
oh, and what did rafe have to do to get Poguelandia back? That stays between me and him xoxo
Warnings: swearing, sort of attempted murder, slight spoilers for s4
Summary: you're spending the day at the beach when your ex boyfriend appears with his Kook friends.
Word count: 5.1k
A/N: no turtles were harmed in this! also first ever rafe fic but im literally obsessed with him rn so.....
The waves were perfect, giant curls of water crashing down, creating a spray of sea salt hosing down anyone in its vicinity. The sun was shining, your deck chairs all set out, and you were ready for a day of surfing, sun baking, and hanging out with your friends.
“Those are some sick waves!” JJ whooped, kicking the sand in celebration.
You laughed along with him, unpacking the final board from the top of Twinkie and handing it to Kie. Dusting your hands you turned to survey the beach with an appraising look, eyes scanning the waves and the shine the sun casted on them.
You went back to the Twinkie and helped John B carry out the ice box, grunting slightly at the effort and receiving a teasing glance from the boy across from you. “Too heavy for you?”
You scoffed. “As if. I was the one who lugged the wood from Poguelandia for a mile when the truck broke down, remember?”
John B gave a tilt of his head. “Touche.”
The both of you planted the box by the chairs and opened it up, as many drinks as you could fit packed in among the ice inside. JJ snatched the first one and you chucked him the beer opener, a satisfying click accompanying the action as he opened the bottle.
Hand in the box to get one yourself, you paused when you heard the telltale growl of vehicles heading your way. You stood up, squinting into the distance as you spotted a line of cars driving towards you.
“You’re joking.” To your dismay you recognised the shiny, expensive cars as those belonging to the Kooks that shared this island with you. You scowled along with the rest of your group, eyeing the cars with barely disguised contempt.
“Keep going,” JJ muttered under his breath, eyes fixed to the line of vehicles as they passed you by.
Some attempted a pitiful chance at civilness, giving half hearted waves and strained smiles. Others saw the uselessness of it and kept their gazes ahead, pretending as if you didn’t exist. The worst were the ones who gave you the backlashing smiles and devil eyes, each glance a dig at you and your friends.
“Anywhere but here,” Kiara murmured from beside you.
You couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment, willing the cars to continue by without stopping. You wanted to enjoy the day, and you found the idea hard to do if there were a bunch of Kooks next to you.
You watched the cars intently, and felt a sharp stab of disappointment and frustration as you noticed them slowing down, rolling to a stop about 30 metres to your left.
“Oh you're joking,” Kie said. “Of course they stop here.”
You tried to smother the anger rising up inside you as you watched them start exiting their cars. “Why wouldn't they? When there's an entire beach.”
“We were here first,” Sarah pointed out, as if it’d help us. It didn’t matter if we were first or not. The Kooks got what they wanted regardless of what Pogues were in the way. You were all too familiar with that fact of life.
JJ shook his head and kicked the sand again, except there was anger in the action rather than excitement. “It's a waste of waves, if you're asking me.”
“Don’t let them ruin the day for us,” you advised. “It’s just what they want.”
John B let out a sigh but continued unpacking, and you felt relief in your chest. The last thing you needed was a fight to break out between the Pogues and the Kooks. You could be civil to one another. Hopefully.
It wasn’t long until you were all ready for the day ahead, the Twinkie empty and sitting to the side. You’d just sat down in your chair, drink in hand, when your gaze had strayed to the Kooks, wanting to keep an eye on them.
You hadn’t wanted to see Rafe there, settling down on a beach chair similar to your own, sunglasses covering his face. Even so, you could tell when he noticed you staring, the slight stiffening of his shoulders, his mouth curling into a small scowl.
You knew your own face was mirroring his expression and quickly looked away lest your emotions get the better of you.
“Great,” Sarah said, also noticing Rafe. “My brother’s here.”
All eyes were immediately on you and you resisted the urge to glower at them. Your friends were well aware of the relationship you’d once had with Rafe, a strange sort of understanding you’d shared that no one else could make sense of. They also remembered how it ended, with Rafe on the airstrip, demanding you not go on the plane to South America. You could still hear his ultimatum ringing in your head, ‘if you get on that plane, we’re done.’
You didn’t regret your decision. You’d choose the exact same if you had the chance. Your friends needed help. You’d never turn your back on them. It was just a shame that Rafe perceived that as you turning your back on him.
In summary, you were both harbouring hard feelings for one another, and seeing him there today did nothing to help your mood.
You cleared your throat, fingers clasped tightly around the drink in your hand. “Let’s just ignore them, yeah?”
If any of your friends noticed the tightness of your smile they didn’t comment on it, eager to go along with your suggestion and not allow the Kooks to ruin your day. That was until you noticed Topper heading your way and John B walking to meet him.
You let out a sigh, sharing a look with Sarah. None of you wanted a fight to break out, but you were all well aware of how much boys let testosterone lead instead of their head, these two boys in particular.
You were watching the rather tense conversation between them, too far to actually hear anything, when your gaze slid to Rafe. A hot flush went through you when you noticed he was already watching you.
You held his gaze, his eyes eating up the distance between you before devouring you yourself. Even from here you could spot the familiar hunger in his eyes, and you tried to tell yourself you didn’t enjoy it, clinging to the words even when your stomach flipped when he still didn’t look away.
“Y/n?”
Tearing your gaze away first felt like losing somehow, but you couldn’t keep blatantly staring at him after your friends called for your attention. So, with a strange feeling of defeat coating your mouth, you turned to Kiara, the girl watching you with an indecipherable expression.
You managed a smile. “Yeah?”
The girl hesitated, mouth slightly open as she thought over her words. Eventually she gave you a half smile, a knowing look in her eyes. “You gonna make that drink you learned in Chile?”
You grinned. After El Dorado you’d taken a month to travel abroad, spending some of your share of the small fortune you’d all managed to pull together. The other’s had been supportive of your wanting to leave. Even if they had never liked Rafe, they all understood what it was to lose the person you loved, and they shared your belief that some time away would help heal your wounded heart.
And it had helped. You’d forgotten all about him on your trip (mostly) and hadn’t thought about him (much) after you got back.
“Sure will,” you said, “but be warned. This drink is strong. Not for the weak.”
Kie grinned back at the idea of a challenge, just as John B walked back to you, glowering but fully intact.
To cheer everyone up, you decided making your drink would be a good idea, give them a challenge. All your friends liked a challenge. Plus, you wanted to see JJ chug a whole glass and regret it. The guy was good with alcohol but even he wouldn’t see this coming.
You hummed a tune under your breath as you prepared the drinks, singing along to the music blasting through the Kooks’ speakers. Even from here it was loud enough to hear the words and you quietly sang along as your friends relaxed around you.
“Alrighty,” you spoke, a tray of drinks in your hand. “Everyone take one, take one, there you go.”
When the tray was empty except for one last glass you took it and raised it in the air. “Ready? One, Two, Three!”
You didn’t even bother to take a sip, watching intently as JJ chugged the whole drink just as you expected. And just like you expected he became a spluttering mess, choking and coughing, making a whole big deal.
Loud enough to garner attention from the Kooks too. When John B followed JJ’s footsteps, apparently deciding JJ couldn’t handle it but he could, and also following in JJ’s footsteps of deeply regretting it, your whole group was laughing and cheering.
It was enough for the Kooks to take a peek.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Topper asked, walking over.
You looked past and found a trail of sorts of Kooks making their way to you, and with a jolt you realised Rafe was one of them. He wasn’t actually going to come over, was he? Yet he didn’t stop his procession and suddenly was standing right next to Topper and you had to fight to keep your eyes from straying to him.
“Trying out some drinks,” you said, because the rest of your friends had suddenly become mute. “I learnt a pretty good recipe when I was in Chile and-”
“You were in Chile?”
You stopped at Rafe’s words, the velvety lilt of his voice all too familiar. You finally let yourself look at him, finding him staring at you intently, a small frown plastered on his face.
“Um, yeah,” you said. “I went for a bit of travelling.”
Rafe looked like he wanted to ask something else but held his tongue, gesturing for you to continue what you’d been saying previously. Hesitantly, because part of you was uneasy with Rafe standing right there, and the other part slightly nervous with all the Kooks’ attention on you – because they’d all come over now – you continued your story. You detailed where you’d discovered it, who taught you how to make it, and most importantly, the utter strength and devastation of the drink.
By now the Kooks were getting exciting, slapping each other on the chest and making bets of who could take it. They’d all seen JJ and John B’s display and wanted to try it out for themselves.
“You mind making a few extra for us to try?” Topper asked.
You hesitated. You'd always gotten along with Topper, and had spent more time with him than the other Pogues had – excluding Sarah, of course – because of his relationship with Rafe. Of course your view on him was different now, after the incident with him burning John B’s house down, but you weren’t as opposed to him as your other friends were.
As if also remembering the friendship you’d once shared, Topper gave you a smile, and you didn’t really see the point in denying them, especially if you wanted to keep the peace between the two tribes.
“Sure,” you said, with a smile only slightly strained. “I’ll start making another batch now.”
There were cheers from the group as you turned back to your preparation table, going through the motions of making the drink all over again. JJ appeared at your side. “You don’t gotta do this you know. We can tell em’ to get lost and that will be that.”
You were already shaking your head. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind. And if it keeps them from ruining our day all the better.”
JJ gave you a long look, eyes narrowed. He glanced at Rafe, milling about with some of the Kooks who’d stayed while the others went to grab more chairs. Apparently they were moving over here for the time being.
“And it’s got nothing to do with your ex boyfriend being here?”
You scowled at JJ. It was an unspoken rule that none of the Pogues mentioned Rafe or your relationship with him. They all saw how hard the break up hit you. JJ just loved breaking rules though. “No, it doesn’t. You should know as well as I do that pissing off Kooks does no one any good.”
JJ sighed, likely because you were right. “Yeah, but it’s so fun though.”
You snorted, shaking your head as you shooed him away from your work, focusing on re-making your drink. You had just enough supplies for a second batch – lucky, because you wouldn’t want to find out what the Kooks would do if you went back on your offer now – and managed to whip it up in less than 10 minutes.
“Alrighty, everybody take one – there should be some left over if anyone wants a second try – and brace yourselves.”
You found your heart was pounding as you passed the tray around the group of Kooks, getting closer and closer to Rafe before you found yourself standing face to face with him. He took the glass, eyes solely on you as he nodded and you passed him by, giving the rest of the Kooks their drinks.
You frowned to yourself as you placed the tray back on the table, only a couple drinks left, and picked up your own. What did that nod mean? Was it a polite nod, just to be civil, or had it meant something else? Had he been trying to tell you something with it?
You mulled it over in your head as the others drank, barely paying attention to their outbursts. They were even worse than JJ and John B though, you managed to pick up that, and the thought made you smile slightly.
To your surprise, after your drinks had been finished or forgotten by the Kooks, they stayed around. Sure, their chairs were further from yours – it wasn’t like you were all sitting in a circle around a campfire or anything – but they were close enough that if you wanted you could have a conversation with them without yelling. Maybe they were planning on having another drink of yours, or maybe they were just too lazy to move back to their original spot. Either way, it put you on edge, and you noticed it did the same to your friends too. Maybe giving them drinks hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
One of the guys – Kelce, if you remembered correctly – whistled, and it was only when he did it a second time did you realise he was whistling at you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
“Get me another drink of yours,” he called out, resting comfortably in his chair.
You scoffed. “I’m not your maid.”
Kelce pretended to ponder your words. “Aren’t you though? I mean you’re a Pogue so-”
“Get the damn drink yourself if you want it Kelce,” Rafe snapped viciously, his body taught as he glared at his friend.
Immediately Kelce backed off, muttering under his breath, but he didn’t finish his sentence. He also didn’t grab another drink, so maybe he didn’t want it that bad. The tension between the two tribes rose after that, but you barely noticed it, eyes trained on Rafe.
He refused to so much as look at you. He’d just defended you in front of all his friends, and he won’t even look at you. You were pissed. Logically thinking, this shouldn’t have made you all that mad, but he was so confusing. He broke up with you and now he was defending your honour and speaking back to his own friends for you. What did it mean?
Eventually the Kooks started leaving, travelling back to their own domain, dragging their chairs behind them. You were relieved, but also disappointed. You were so wrapped up in everything Rafe; you didn’t want it to just end.
Except it was already over, you reminded yourself as you grabbed your board, intending to do a little surfing. Your friends followed your lead and headed out to the ocean to catch some waves. Even Sarah came, catching some of the smaller ones and cheering in celebration when she managed to ride it.
You were catching your own waves too, grinning at the exhilarating feeling of flying over the water, having the waves chase behind you. You could hear your own friends cheering, only elevating your mood, and you didn’t even remember you were sharing the beach with Kooks until you were waiting for the next wave, a rare lull coming over the water, and had them floating nearby.
You noticed Topper among them just as he did you and you gave him a hesitant smile. Topper returned it and moved over to you, taking his Kook friends with him. Your own muttered unpleasant words but didn’t outright tell them not to come over, so you found yourself floating on your board side by side with Topper.
“Been a while,” he commented, glancing at you.
You looked at the water lapping against your thighs that were spread across your board. You nodded your head. “Yeah, it has.”
He hesitated, glancing at your friends behind you. “How are you doing, with… everything?”
Everything being Rafe.
You shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to give the man next to you anything, lest it find its way to Rafe. “I’m good.”
Not exactly a lie. But was it the truth?
“It's getting big out there, huh?” JJ called, gesturing to the rising waves.
Topper nodded his head good-naturedly. “Sure is.”
“See that one?” JJ asked, pointing to the oncoming wave. It was an impressive one, slowly building to a height that beat all the others before it, promising a giant impact when it eventually crashed in on itself.
Topper let out a whoop and JJ grinned at him, though it wasn’t his normal type of grin. There was a maliciousness to it, one that made you uneasy looking at it.
“Is that you?” JJ asked.
Topper looked at him, noticing his grin. He didn’t know him well enough to realise it meant he had ill intentions, nodding with a similar smile. “Yeah baby that’s all me.”
You floated closer to JJ, giving him a stern look. “JJ…”
He gave you innocent eyes, blinking at you. “What? Just being friendly.”
You scoffed, because you highly doubted it, but you’d learnt there was no stopping JJ when he was planning something. Still, you hoped it didn’t end with violence between the Kooks and the Pogues, like it always seemed to.
Topper readied himself for the wave, drifting closer, a tighter grip on his board. It was only when you noticed JJ doing the same thing did you realise his plan.
“JJ no-”
You were too late, the boy sailing on his board and cutting Topper off right at the last minute. There were shouts of dismay from the Kooks and you were tempted to join them. JJ could be so rash sometimes.
There were more disgruntled noises as Topper disappeared from view, appearing moments later sopping wet with a scowl on his face. Realising the civilness between the Pogues and Kooks was effectively over, you swam back to shore, dragging your board over the sand and dropping it rougher than needed on the ground.
It was time to leave. You didn’t want to be there to watch the eventual fight between the Kooks and the Pogues that was bound to happen. After what JJ did you were surprised they didn’t try to drown him in the ocean.
Kiara was thinking along the same lines, helping you pack up the boards on the roof of the Twinkie before folding all the chairs. By the time the others came back from the ocean you were nearly finished, your spot looking unusually bare.
“Woah, what we doing?” JJ asked. “The sun is still out.”
You resisted the urge to snap at him. You knew it was just who he was, but sometimes, when JJ’s lack of thought affected all of you instead of just him, it was difficult to keep calm with him.
“We’d rather not be here when the Kooks go crazy,” Kiaria said shortly, somewhat forcefully taking JJ’s board from him.
JJ made a sound of displeasure, looking around at your friends. When he looked at you all you could do was shrug because Kie was right. It was better to be gone before they decided on revenge.
You were all finally ready to go when you spotted something strange in the sand. It seemed to be moving, as if there was something under it. You stepped closer and let out a gasp as a tiny sea turtle fought its way through the sand, its head peeking out into the world.
“It’s a hatch!” you called. “Kie! Quickly!”
The girl raced over to you and let out an excited shriek, looking at the turtles with awe. Your other friends surrounded them, watching as they slowly made the treacherous journey to ocean water.
“Look at these little nuggets,” John B said, kneeling down to get a better look at them.
Kiaria took a step back. “Wait, wait, back up, give them some space. You can’t touch them.”
You all followed her warning, taking a few steps back. You couldn’t bear to go too far back though, because the sight before you was so special you wanted to drink in every single aspect.
“We’ve gotta make a path right?” you asked, glancing at your friends.
John B nodded, following your train of thought. “Yeah, we need to make it safe. Get these footprints off.”
Kie started calling out orders that we all followed diligently, telling Sarah to look for seagulls and other predators while the rest of you tried to smooth out the sand for the turtles to crawl over.
“We should make like a highway,” John B mused.
You nodded. “A turtle highway.”
“A turtle highway!” Sarah cheered. “Come on kids.”
John B was in front of them, leading the way to the sea. “Come on, follow your human daddy straight to the ocean-ocean.”
JJ frowned. “Why do you get to be the dad?”
John B gave him a look, about to answer when you all heard the sound of the Kooks’ cars. You turned around and recognised Topper’s jeep heading towards you. You were surprised when you noticed Topper in the passenger seat, a girl that must have been his girlfriend in the driver’s seat.
Kie stepped forward, cupping her hands around her mouth as she called, “Hey! Hey stop! There's a hatch!”
The car drove determinedly towards you though, either ignoring or not hearing Kiara’s yelling. The rest of you joined in, waving your arms, shouting at the oncoming vehicle about the hatch right behind you.
“Let’s just get out of the way,” John B said.
Kiara scoffed. “No I don’t think so.”
So the screaming continued, as they got closer and closer to the hatch. At the last minute you all ducked to the side and the jeep drove past, barely missing you but thankfully leaving a wide enough berth for the turtles.
You thought it was over, letting a relieved breath loose, when the car turned around.
“No, no no, no.”
The screaming continued. You planted yourself right in front of the hatch, a barrier, and refused to budge. Topper’s girlfriend noticed your savage stare, the tense set of your shoulders and seemed to choose you as her victim, heading right for you. For the hatch.
Your voice was hoarse from your screaming. How could they not hear you? You were certain the Kooks behind you could, and though the car’s engine was loud surely it wasn’t that loud. With all your voices put together surely they could hear something. Maybe they just didn’t care.
You stood still as the car came closer and closer. She’d stop. She’d have to. She couldn’t kill you. Your resolve was fracturing slightly, however, as the car proceeded forward with no signs of stopping or swerving. By now your own friends were yelling at you to get out of the way, but it was too late.
The car was right there in front of you, so close you could see the horror on Topper’s face and the sneer on his girlfriend’s, and then suddenly you were being pushed aside, a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped around you.
You hit the sand with a thud, feeling your bones ache as the impact hit you. Still, the arms around you stayed there, and it took you a moment to realise why they were so familiar. Because they belonged to Rafe.
The man was breathing deeply next to you, catching his breath as his grip never faltered.
“Let me go Rafe,” you said through gritted teeth.
The man scoffed, ignoring your plea as you both got upright. His arms were now firmly around your waist. “Why, so you can try to get yourself killed again?”
You scowled. “I wasn’t trying to get myself killed-”
“Really? Because you standing there doing nothing while a car headed right for you seemed like getting yourself killed.”
You spun around in his grip, face to face with him. You hadn’t been this close to him since before you broke up. From here you could see the specks of brown decorating the blue of his eyes, the eyes you’d loved so much. Still loved, if you were being honest.
“There was a hatch,” you hissed. “I was trying to protect it.”
“And that’s worth your life?” Rafe asked incredulously. He was staring at you so intently, eyes glued to your face as his hands slightly moved up and down your back, as if he couldn’t help himself. “You can’t do things like that Y/n.”
You felt the familiar anger rise up inside me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Rafe looked taken aback and angry at your words. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”
Rafe let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. He still didn’t let you go; if anything he held on tighter. “Are you serious right now? I just saved your life.”
You rolled your eyes. “They would have stopped-”
“Oh my god, Y/n, no they wouldn’t have. When are you gonna realise that? Huh? Not everyone is gonna take care of you out there like me,” Rafe accused, getting into that hot headed way of his.
You scoffed incredulously, pushing yourself away from him. His grip tightened for a second before reluctantly letting you go, though he did not look at all happy about it. “Take care of me? As in dumping me on an airstrip?”
“Because you left me!” Rafe burst out, looking harried. “What, I’m supposed to stay with you after you blatantly choose them over me? Do you just not value me as your boyfriend?”
You let out a frustrated groan. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him. “I didn’t choose you over them! They needed me.”
“I needed you,” Rafe hissed. “I needed you and you left me.”
You opened your mouth but paused. Rafe was being unusually vulnerable with you, even if it was disguised by anger, and you started to wonder if maybe he was missing you just as much as you missed him.
“I didn’t mean to,” you said quietly. You saw Rafe’s eyes soften slightly at the change in your tone, and suddenly everything disappeared but the two of you. There were no Kooks, no Pogues, no tension between them. It was just you two, standing on the beach, the unknown of your relationship hanging above your heads. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched. He was struggling to find something to say, half of him wanting to snap and tear you down, while the other physically recoiled against the idea of hurting you in any way. Eventually he sighed, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. “Why’d you have to fucking leave?”
“Why’d you have to make me choose?”
You both stayed silent after that, staring at each other. It was obvious you craved each other, missed the other's presence. But could you look past what had already happened between you? Were you able to look past the mountain of problems and pain you’d caused each other?
You desperately wanted to say yes, but you were scared he wouldn’t do the same. Still, you had to try, right?
You took a deep breath, fear making your throat clogged. “Rafe, I miss y-”
You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were crashing against your own, his hand already tangled in your hair, cupping your head. You melted into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck, desperate to be closer. After all these months apart the distance between you felt enormous, and you wanted it gone. Rafe seemed to think the same, forcefully tugging you to him, eliminating the space.
He kissed your mouth like a man starved, lips harsh and bruising against your own. You felt heat enveloping your body, goosebumps rising with every swipe of his tongue in your mouth. Pleasure you hadn’t felt in so long was filling your mind, his lips satisfying a craving you’d spent so long trying to ignore.
When air became a factor and you pulled away for a breath he only let you go so far, having your forehead rest against his own. Being this close to him, this familiar, was making your heart ache with longing.
His hands wrapped around your waist and stayed there, now freely wandering up and down your back. He kissed your jaw, your throat, collarbone, anywhere he could as you caught your breath, like he just couldn’t bear not to be kissing you.
“Rafe,” you murmured. When he didn’t answer you said his name again, and a grunt escaped his mouth in acknowledgement, still kissing your throat. “I need to go.”
This made him stop kissing you, and he pulled back to look at you with an angry attitude. “What?”
You gestured behind him, where your friends were waiting by the Twinkie. They’d finished keeping the turtles safe as they went into the ocean, and judging by the calm if irritated air around them, none of the turtles got injured from Topper and his girlfriend’s semantics.
“They’re waiting for me.”
Rafe made a sound of displeasure, pulling you even closer, if that was possible. “You can stay with me.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I can?”
Rafe discerned the second meaning behind your question almost immediately. You could stay with him, for more than just today? As his partner, as you’d once been?
The man let out a breathy laugh, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Of course baby. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
warnings: all these links contain p!rn!! make sure u are in private while watching :))) - you have to be logged into x/twitter to acesss! enjoy! (light words best seen on dark mode btww.)
jj maybank
𐙚 jj eating you out while jerking off
𐙚 slip n slide (this one’s rlly hot..)
𐙚 desperate humping, to all out fucking
𐙚 what you send to jj while he’s at work
𐙚 you and jj after movie night at the chateau & the pogues can probably hear you (yall don’t care)
𐙚 “lets go shower!” what he actually means:
𐙚 jj fingering you in the twinkie while the pogues are in the store
𐙚 the real reason why he wanted to go camping
𐙚 soft morning sex w jj (personal fav)
𐙚 squirt central
𐙚 lick it like a lollipop !
𐙚 touching urself without permission=jj overstimulating the shit out of you
𐙚 jj and stargirl!reader while her parents are downstairs🙈
rafe cameron
𐙚 you and rafe after a kook party
𐙚 you: “mermaid vibes rn.” rafe: wth are u talkin about?
𐙚 merry christmas, baby!
𐙚 giving the neighbors something to complain about
𐙚 your parents aren’t home
𐙚 car sex w rafe
𐙚 ceo!rafe after you called him during a business meeting
𐙚 “baby we have to make something for golden hour” ☻
pope heyward
𐙚 you and pope after shopping
𐙚 pope getting rough=turned tf on
𐙚 sucking pope off
john b routledge
𐙚 jb taking his time eating u out (why does his hair remind me of his lowkey-)
𐙚 john b having talented fingers
𐙚 picnic date led to…
𐙚 finally all alone at the chateau
b o n u s !
kiara carrera
𐙚 kie dry-humping you
sarah cameron
𐙚 sarah making you squirt w her fingers
𐙚 you and sarah after midsummers
cleo anderson
𐙚 you and cleo use a strap for the first time
divider cred: @cafekitsune / update: might make a new version bc so many aren’t on twitter anymore.
