#the outer banks

[crookedteethed]

18+ Inspired by this porn link

A/N: not proofread, writing this on my phone because I’m too lazy to get my laptop 😔

Imagine you and Rafe being that one couple in the obx with a large following on onlyfans. Of course, no one would know it was you guys in particular—you both never showed your faces—though some people (like your closest friends) had their speculations.

I can totally see you and Rafe falling into the exhibition porn category, because I know for a fact Rafe Cameron is an exhibitionist.

There was the video of you two fucking on the poolside at Tannyhill Manor. There was the video of him giving you back shots as you held on tightly to the railing of his balcony, and then there was the video of you cockwarming him on the beach during the hottest day of the summer.

The beach was packed with people surfing and sunbathing left and right, but there you sat on Rafe’s lap on a beach chair, filled to the brim with his delicious cock, a mixture of your combined juices spiraling down the supple flesh of your thighs, and the sheer excitement of getting caught. The cute little skirt that went with the bottoms of your bikini was barely long enough to cover your lips clinging to Rafe’s length but not long enough to cover the pool of cum and sweat sticking to your bodies; nothing could cover the sticky sopping sound your wet cunt made each time Rafe pushed up into you (this video was undoubtedly the one that got you two revenue—a whopping 1.2 million views).

And it wasn't like you and Rafe were doing this for money; he was the “kook king”, after all. You two were doing it just because you could.

#crookedteethed #fem reader #fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #drew starkey #the outer banks #the obx #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron concepts #Rafe Cameron blurbs

[featherandferns]

F.W.B. (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader

content warning: drug use; sex (protected; oral; p in v)

word count: 9k (o god)

Blurb: friends with benefits (phrase) - a friend with whom one has an occasional and casual sexual relationship; no feelings attached.

The first time it happened, it was after a kegger.

Sunset had turned dusk on the beach. There had been the vague smell of smoke from the bonfire, sticking to everyone’s clothes, and beer, liquor and marijuana. Cigarettes and cider. The Boneyard was a free for all: Kooks and Pogues and tourists alike. If you wanted to let lose, maybe have a dance and shotgun a few beers, then you could. If you want to catch-up with your friends, make the most of the summer, then you could. And if you wanted a quick hook-up, be it a fling or otherwise, you could. That was usually the way JJ leaned. It seemed tonight, you had leaned that way too. That was how you had ended up in bed with him.

Now, you balanced on one leg, leaning against his door for support, wrestling on your trainer. You were already dressed.

JJ was watching you from the bed.

“You do this a lot?”

You frowned and looked up from your foot.

“What?”

“Like, do you hook up with people a lot?”

“Why would you ask me that?” you asked, somewhere between offended and confused.

“Just making conversation,” he shrugged.

JJ leant over to grab papers and bud from his bedside table, preparing to roll. His arms flexed when he did. It was already hard to remember how they felt wrapped around you; pulling you closer, tugging you nearer.

“Making conversation by asking if I’m a whore?”

“Woah!” he laughed, meeting your gaze again, wide eyed. “I never said whore!”

“What else could you mean?” you say, going back to tying your shoelaces.

“Just wondering,” he mumbled. When you looked back over, he was concentrating on laying the bud evenly in the papers. Sighing, you stood back on two feet.

“How about you?”

JJ looked up again, brows furrowed in question.

You held back your smirk, putting on an overly sweet, gushing voice as you went, “I bet you get like so many girls, JJ. Oh my God.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, going back to his rolling. “Touché.”

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned.

It was still dark outside. The crickets and owls made a symphony of the banks. Mosquitos hovered around the lamp that was on, having snuck in through the cracked open window. There wasn’t anybody else at the place. You’d followed JJ back to what you assumed was his house about an hour and a half into the kegger. Sighing, you glanced around the room and debated whether to head straight home or go back to the kegger. People would still be hanging around: it wasn’t too late. JJ hadn’t offered for you to stay over and you hadn’t suggested it. You knew that that wasn’t how these things worked. You didn’t mind that.

“You want a hit?” JJ asked, holding up the now finished joint.

You considered him a moment. Bare torso, abs proudly on display, basking in the orange hue from the bedside lamp. Hair messy and damp with sweat from the forehead, which still held a sheen like a freshly waxed board.

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking perch on the foot of the bed.

Crossing one leg under the other, you watched as he lit up and took a long drag. Taking it from him, you did the same, the vapour gently dissipating before your eyes. The smell consumed your senses, the drug slowly taking effect, mellowing you out. Handing it back, you rested back on your arms and took in his room.

“Where’re your parents?”

“Huh?”

“How come you got the place to yourself?” you wondered, looking back to him.

“I don’t. Not really. It’s my friend John B’s place,” JJ said. “I’m just crashing here.”

“John B…John B…Why do I know that name?”

“He goes to the same school as us,” JJ told you. That was something you’d come to learn when you first started talking to him, earlier that night. Gesturing with his free hand to his hair, he added, “brown hair? Kinda long?”

A picture came to mind, of someone you vaguely remembered from one of your classes. The name seemed to match the face well. Angular face and sharp cheekbones. Tanned skin and the strange memory of a bandana, always attached to him one way or another. You nodded.

“Ah, yeah. I remember.”

“We’ve mostly been hanging out here for the summer,” JJ said, taking another hit.

“Doing what?”

“Surfing. Fishing. Odd jobs to fund the necessities.”

With the latter sentence, he smirked and held up the joint. You smiled back.

“So, I’m taking you as a live-by-the-moment sort of guy?”

“I don’t know,” JJ thought. He studied the joint a moment. “I guess I am, yeah. Like a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda guy, I reckon.”

“Ah,” you hummed. When he offered the joint, you gladly accepted, taking another hit.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you a planner?” he wondered.

You took one more hit and handed back the joint. It felt strange, how easy it was to make conversation, and light conversation at that, as if half an hour ago you weren’t as close as two people can get. You didn’t much mind, though.

“Maybe,” you said.

JJ laughed, shifting further up the headboard and messing with his hair. “You always this secretive?”

Giving a small laugh, you shrugged and sighed. “Maybe…”

“Well, I like girls with a bit of mystery,” JJ grinned suggestively.

You chuckled at that. Getting to your feet, heading to his bedroom door, you replied, “don’t get your hopes up, Maybank. I’m not much for commitment.”

“Hell, neither am I,” JJ agreed, almost joyously. He tipped his joint to you as if he were a Victorian gentleman, tipping his hat in farewell. “But I have a feeling I’m gonna see you around.”

Something about that made you pause. You raised a brow as if in challenge. “Oh, you do?”

“Mhm,” he grinned cheekily, tongue pressing against his cheek.

The way he sat, half naked, confident in his skin and his charm: there are few people who hold that sort of aura around them. Noticing this, you began to smirk, eyes narrowing in something akin to suspicion.

“You’re a player, aren’t you? I bet you’ve got hoes.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t know me like that.”

“Maybe not,” you said, walking towards him again. “But I know guys like you. Yeah, you like the chase. The feeling of getting someone to fall for you, to be weak for you. The thrill it gives.”

“You psychoanalysing me or something, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t be much to note,” you replied easily.

“Why don’t you try me on out? I know you wanna be friends,” JJ boldly said.

Licking your lips, you bit back your smile. Hands on your waist, you rocked on your feet in thought. The weed was giving your brain a nice buzz. Paired with the beer from the kegger (that had mostly worn off), it was a pleasant thrum running through your body.

You sighed, as if he’d twisted your arm and glanced around for a pen. When you found one (abandoned on the desk) you walked over to him and began to write on his forearm. He seemed taken off guard at first, before shamelessly looking down your top as you leant over him. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t like there was anything to hide now.

“You didn’t get a good enough look earlier or something?” you mumbled. You clocked his grin in your peripheral.

“If only I could take a picture. Think it’d last longer.”

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Every Goddamn night,” he smirked.

You’d be lying if that didn’t stir your stomach in the most delectable of ways. There was a reason why you’d ended up in his bed and not somebody else’s.

Finishing off the last digit, you capped the pen and placed it on his bedside table. Then, you stole the forgotten joint from his fingers and helped yourself to a drag. He watched you, mild surprise written on his face, and then full-on shock as you grabbed his jaw, fingers somewhat firm as you guided his mouth to yours. Exhaling into his mouth, messily falling into a kiss, you smiled as you felt his body go slightly slack under you.

He wasn’t the only one who liked making people feel weak.

Pulling away, you smiled down at him. His lips were still parted, wet from your spit. The image of it stirred something inside you.

“Text me, if you wanna prove me wrong,” you challenged lightly. With that, you gently patted his face, turned and left his bedroom.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it a moment as you caught up with yourself. 

The smell of weed was weaker out in the hallway. It was also darker, with no moonlight flitting through any windows. Instead, wooden walls, adorned with picture frames. You took the time to passingly inspect them as you went to leave. An older man (bearded and broad) with glasses, and a woman with pale skin and dark, nearly black hair. Another of a man fishing. Several of who you could now confirm was John B, some of which JJ appeared in, alongside a brunette girl and dark-skinned boy. One photo of this consistent gang made you smile. Arms looped over one another’s shoulders, hair wet and body littered with water droplets that twinkled under the sun and camera flash like glitter. Dopey smiles on all their faces. Maybe around thirteen or fourteen. For some reason, the picture stuck around in your head as you left the house, starting your walk home.

The second time it happened, it was after midnight.

“Is this seriously a booty call text?”

JJ was leaning against the doorframe of the porch’s netted fencing. Looking down at you, as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, he glanced at your upheld phone, open on his text message. Your conversation thread was phenomenally short. Impressively short.

You up?

Who is this?

The best sex you’ve ever had.

“Knew it,” he grinned.

You frowned, befuddled. “What?”

“I’m the best sex you’ve ever had,” he sighed casually, stretching his arms out. You finally caught on and immediately rolled your eyes.

“Seriously?”

“How else would you know to come here?”

JJ’s eyes scanned your body, head to toe, then back again. You felt a zip run down your spine, but you didn’t want him to think he was winning. You wanted to hold onto your dignity for a little longer.

“There’s only one person who I’ve hooked up with who’s shameless enough to send a ‘you up’ text,” you told him, beginning up the stairs. “It was pretty easy to figure it was you.”

JJ rolled his eyes and started down the few steps to meet you halfway. Standing over you, blue eyes staring down, he gnawed on his lower lip, slowly letting his smirk shine through.

“Well, it worked. That’s good enough for me.”

His lips on yours was now somewhat familiar. You had a sense for how he kissed. Strong at first, all consuming, and then tender as if he were pulling back, easing off. Then stronger again, possessive even. It was captivating and confusing and messy. When his hands traced around your waist, lower over your ass, cupping just beneath to let his fingers sink into the skin of your thighs, just light enough to avoid bruising, you felt yourself melt into him. Arms looping around his shoulders, tethering around his neck as if threatening to strangle. Grunts and moans and heavy breathing as it all become shamelessly obscene. JJ stumbled up the stairs, tugging you with him, and eventually the two of you were on the porch. He seemed to have a vague idea of where to bring you because soon he was tumbling backwards onto a sofa, and you were being pulled down on top. You chuckled, somewhat breathless, against his lips.

You fingers found his hands that had come up to your waist, scratching at your skin, teasing at your t-shirt. Looping your fingers into his, interlocking them sweetly, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. Not until you took your strength to push his arms above his head, holding them down. You moved to better straddle him, feeling him against your thigh, hard through his shorts.

When he opened his eyes, he looked intoxicated and spent. Wet, swollen lips. Pink cheeked. Muscles straining as you held his arms down. You knew he had the strength to push you off, to break free from your hold, but something about the fact that he hadn’t, that he wasn’t, turned you on even more. The thought made you grind back against him, and you relished in his groan.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Leaning down again, your lips found the nape of his neck. It began with kisses. Light and sweet, like a child planting dainty pecks on flower petals. Then, you slowly, sensually, and ever so softly, dragged your teeth against the skin. You felt him inhale sharply beneath you. The way the muscle running up his neck tightened, was as if he’d clenched his jaw. You smirked. Working on a hickey or two, you let him free his hands, body almost sighing in relief as he began to touch you again. Your ass, your waist, your legs. Lasciviously coming to your chest, thumbs circling the underside of your breasts. Dragging over your nipples, sensitive through the thin cotton. You moaned against his skin, feeling yourself clench. This was good.

“You wanna take this off for me, pretty girl?”

“You want me to?” you ask back.

“Why’s everything a challenge with you, huh?”

You could hear the grin in his voice, crooning and sensual. Something right out of a fantasy. You leaned back, sitting back on his waist. As you pulled off your top, his hands came to rest on your waist, fingers skimming the skin patiently. Once off, and tossed to the side, you bit your lip as if pretending to suppress your smile, watching as he took you in. You’d once been insecure of your body, the way any girl had, but you felt unashamed to admit that after sleeping with your first boyfriend, that fear went away. They didn’t care what shape you were or what size. The poor suckers are just so glad to be in a position where a girl is willing to sleep with them, that they have no complaints.

That said, the way JJ took you in, hands carefully inching up your body as if teasing you, cupping your tits with just enough pressure to make you sigh, head starting to tilt back to the sky…You felt like the prettiest girl on the planet.

“Jesus Christ, thank God for that kegger,” he mumbled as if in a daze.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then leant down to kiss him again.

From there, no more time was wasted. His shirt joined yours, somewhere on the porch floor, and as the susurrus of the late night-early morning wind rattled the netting, making some wind chimes attached to a far tree sing-out hauntingly, you ended up on your knees on the porch floor between JJ’s parted legs.

The grin that came to JJ’s face when his brain catches up is enough to light up the night sky. But as you go to finish tugging off his boxers, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait.”

Your hands halt on the waistband, eyes flashing up in concern. He’s glancing around, bare chest rising and falling a little more than natural, out of breath from the antics. Then, he’s handing you a couch cushion that he’d somehow found. You take it slowly, confused.

“For your knees,” he explained, nodding down.

You followed his line of gaze and do as he suggested, shifting yourself so your legs were no longer on the splintering floor. It wasn’t that you’d been particularly uncomfortable before, but it certainly felt nicer. There was something weirdly sweet about it and it made you smile.

As if in thanks, you planted a kiss to JJ’s bare inner thigh. Then another, and another, closer and closer. His boxers join the pile and you take your sweet time going down on him.

On the fifth time, it was tryst.

It was a humid night. The air felt thick with moisture, as if warning of rain tomorrow, and you felt like in the chateau it was ten-fold worse. The sex in the air probably didn’t help the clammy feeling that came over you. JJ seemed to notice your discomfort because, once you were clad in your underwear again, he proposed the two of you go outside for a bit.

On the grass outside was a bench, a little old and wobbly. JJ tossed some couch cushions and blankets your way from the porch, and you barely caught them, chuckling. Once the bench was a little comfier, the two of you settled on either end. JJ pulled out a joint, as per tradition, and lit up. The two of you passed it back and forth, telling dumb jokes and proposing dumber philosophies. The conversation eventually died down, as did the craving for weed, and you stretched out your legs onto JJ’s lap, lolling your head back to look at the stars.

The weed made you feel lax and mushy, and you watched as the sky stretched on for miles. Constellations appeared from thin air, twinkles so dainty and brilliant that it put you in a trance. You vaguely registered JJ lifting your right arm, guiding your fingers to his lips. He pressed kisses against them, one by one, and then to your palm. It’s this that caught your attention; your eyes flitting down from the sky to find his already watching you. Against your leg, you feel him harden slightly under his shorts. A part of you considers teasing him about it and cracking a joke, but the thought gets pushed aside. Instead, you shift so he can climb atop. He kissed up your tummy, over your bra covered chest, up your neck, leaving a hickey. You sigh and go pliant like soft clay. Your hands seemed to find home in his hair and you gently rake your fingers through the messy blonde locks. Kisses to your jaw. Cheek. Earlobe. Lips. Then the two of you are making out. It’s different than the other times; there’s no rush to it and no definitive place it will lead to. There just is.

When you eventually broke apart, JJ rested his head on your chest. Your fingers find home in his hair once more, teasing through some nots, beginning to braid some longer strands together. For some reason, you want to ask him why he is always at John B’s house, and never his. You want a real answer. But you don’t. You know it isn’t the time and he won’t tell you. What should it matter anyway? You’re just hooking up. You preferred it that way.

Commitment wasn’t something that came easy to you. There wasn’t anybody to blame, necessarily. Your parents were fine enough and no ex had severely scarred you enough to traumatise you from another relationship. But those relationships had never lasted long. They’d been built on rocky foundations and delipidated rather easily. Maybe that was what put you off. The feeling that it didn’t matter; that it would all end anyway, with their face becoming another blur in the crowd, and their voice a laugh which could be recognised anywhere. That you’d end up alone, and you never understood why.

“What’s your favourite colour?” you asked JJ, trying to find an end to your thought spiel.

“Blue, I think,” he said against you. “Like the water. Kinda mossy blue?”

“Aquamarine?”

“That’s such a dumb word,” JJ sighed. You chuckled.

“Okay, so not aquamarine. How about turquoise?”

“Just blue,” JJ told you. “A very specific blue.”

“Okay, JJ,” you chuckled gently and began to undo one of the braids you’d made.

“What about you?”

“Green,” you say.

“What kind?”

“Forest green. Like…deep, cosy green,” you explained. JJ hummed as if he could picture the colour.

“Nice choice.”

“Why thank you.”

The two of you fell back into silence again, save for the common sounds of the banks. It’s the softest you’ve ever been with one another. Usually, the moment never strayed from sex and flirting. Sometimes the odd word passed back and forth as you got dressed or shared a joint. This was different. You liked it.

“What do you do for fun?” JJ asked.

“I box,” you reply.

“You box?”

“Mhm. I’m on the team at school. Been keeping practise up at the gym throughout the summer,” you say.

JJ shifts so he’s sitting up, and he meets your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“I dunno,” he said, chuckling a little. “I just had you pegged as a volleyball girl or some shit.”

“Like a tennis girly? With the little skirts and all?”

“You wouldn’t hear me complaining,” JJ couldn’t help but grin, laughing when you shove at his face. “Seriously, though. What kind of boxing?”

“Competitive,” you shrugged.

His eyes look pretty in the moonlight. You’d never really noticed before. It’s then that you realised you’d never properly seen him in daylight or spent time with him when it wasn’t night or dark.

“You on the team, d’you say?”

“Mhm. Second best.”

“Who’s first?”

“This bitch Samantha,” you muttered, making JJ laugh. “It’s not the best team but coach says he might be able to put me up for a scholarship or something.”

“You smart?”

You snorted. “God no. Thick as shit. But, if I can get into college on a scholarship, then it could be my ticket out of this shit hole.”

“You mean you wanna leave this paradise?” JJ joked, gesturing to the water. The falling-apart jetty and the horizon that had yet to warn of morning.

“Paradise on earth,” you mumbled the infamous tagline of the sign.

Sighing, you laid back down. JJ seemed to agree, resting on your stomach, legs tangled with yours.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you know that when you woke up, JJ’s comforting pressure wasn’t on you anymore. When you woke up, you were outside of the chateau, blinking against the morning sun, alone.

By the seventh time, it was a pattern.

It felt like you were seeing flashes of colour.

Clenching your eyes shut, your mouth was hanging open in silent, insurmountable pleasure. You hopelessly grasped around for some kind of purchase: the sheets, the headboard…You feel your hand being guided to someone’s head, and with that you knot your fingers through JJ’s hair. He groans at the pull. Blue. Somewhere inside of your empty lungs you find a moan, falling past your lips. It only spurs him on. Digging your heels into the skin of his back, just below his shoulder blades, you somehow drive him closer. Green. It’s not enough for him to be going down on you. It wouldn’t even be enough to have him in you. You need him in your veins, in your head, passing through every synapse and invading every molecule. You just need him, him, him.

Red.

When you come, it’s with a shuddering, hopeless, sigh of his name. One of his hands comes to splay across your stomach and hip bone, as if you had begun to lift off the bed and he was guiding you back down. The moans turn to whines and whimpers, lips trembling from the afterglow. Eventually, as your thoughts begin to come back to your head, you let out a small laugh, face burning hot. Lifting one hand to rub at your forehead, raking back your hair, you will your eyes open.

“Fuck,” you sigh through a chuckle.

Looking down, you see JJ falling back on his haunches, chest heaving as if he’d ran a marathon. As if he’d been the one being eaten out. The sight of him, wet lips and damp chin, a cocky grin gradually coming through, it makes you clench around nothing, driving your teeth into your lower lip. You coax him down to you by extending out your arm, smiling against the kiss, moaning quietly at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Best you’ve ever had?” he asks against your mouth, barely pulling back.

You swat his face away with a tired laugh.

Since that second night, he’d made a habit of asking you it every time. You’d made a habit in doing anything but to tell him the truth: that yes, he was. Nobody needed a JJ with an ego that big, not even you.

“You got some water or something?” you ask him quietly, flopping against the pillows.

“Sure,” JJ says, getting up.

The bed shifts as he walks away. There’s the faint sound of a tap running from another room. You smile to yourself and close your eyes, sighing. The bed dipping with his weight tells you he’s back, and JJ helps you sit up, handing you the glass.

“Thanks,” you mumble before taking several long gulps. When you’re done downing the water, you look to see JJ holding out a t-shirt for you. You chuckle and take it.

“I gotta pee real quick,” you say, routine as always.

He nods and watches as you get up from the bed, pulling on the t-shirt. It’s his, of course. Says something about Kildare County on the back: proud to be from the homeland. You make the familiar route to the bathroom of the chateau. As you go, you make sure to keep the t-shirt tugged down over your modesty. You and JJ had made a habit of you leaving the bedroom in clothes after the infamous run in with John B. Whoops.

Once done, you wash your hands and brave a glance in the mirror. The sight makes you want to laugh. Hair a mess – unruly and untamed – and some leftover mascara smudged under your lower lash line. Swollen lips, rosy cheeked, the beginnings of a love bite already forming on your neck. You want to laugh as a thought comes to your mind: you look like some common whore. Running the water and digging about in the cupboards, you wet your face and hair, finding a random comb and trying to tame some of the tangles. It’s a little better.

When you leave and head back to JJ’s self-proclaimed bedroom, he’s sat atop of the sheets of the bed, rolling a joint. Now wearing boxers, he sits lent against the headboard, one leg bent and the other extended out leisurely.

Sighing, you collapse in a heap at the foot of the bed. You feel him prod at your waist and you bat him away.

“You good?”

“Mhm.”

“How good?”

“Stop.”

“I’ll just keep asking.”

“I’m not gonna tell you you’re good in bed,” you say to the ceiling. JJ snorts.

“Why not?”

“Cause.”

“Cause?”

“Cause it’ll go to your head,” you tell him. You don’t hear a rebuttal (because he knows you’re right). You turn your head so you can watch him. He lifts the paper to his lips and licks it, sealing it shut. “Sides. I feel like it goes without saying.”

“What does?” JJ asks, now searching for his lighter in the mess that is his bedside table.

“You know what.”

The blank look JJ sends you your way tells you no, he does not. Sighing, you clarify. “The fact that I keep hooking up with you. That speaks for itself.”

When the penny finally drops, JJ’s face twists into the most cocky, proud grin you’ve ever seen, and you immediately want to take it back. You tell him this with a groan, tossing your head back, but he’s laughing and basking in the indirect comment you’ve just given him. The comment that he’s pretty God damn good in bed, to have you falling back in it so many times.

“How come you never ask if you’re any good?” JJ wonders. The flick of a lighter tells you that he found one.

“Cause I know I’m good,” you simply say. “And the fact that you keep inviting me to hook up with you also speaks for itself.”

“Can’t argue with that,” JJ mumbles.

You smell the marijuana the moment he takes a drag. Sweet and crisp and only slightly overwhelming. Leaning down with a groan, you begin to lazily search around for your shorts on the floor. Eventually, somehow, you find them, and from the pocket you dig out your cigarettes. You steal the lighter JJ had used from the quilt and light up, lying on your back once more.

“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know?”

You open one eye and look at him. Exhaling out a breath of smoke, you ask, “are you seriously telling me not to smoke whilst you smoke?”

“Cigs, I mean. Gives you cancer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the government,” you mumble, taking another drag.

“I’m serious. That shit is gonna kill you.”

You sort of smiled. Opening both eyes now, you take in JJ’s expression. You felt as if you knew him well enough to read his face. Something like concern lingered behind his relaxed demeanour. Sitting up, leaning towards him, you took another drag and exhaled it in his face.

“Well, now you’re gonna die too,” you grin.

JJ wafts it away and shakes his head at you. His smile tells you that he’s not offended. “It’s a good thing you’re hot.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” you fake gasp, hand coming to your chest.

“Wait, I thought that what’s all women were good for? Are you telling me women can do more than just be hot?” JJ plays along, gaping in mock horror.

You chuckle and break the charade. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continue to smoke, as does JJ. The floor is a mess. Piles of clothes – some yours and some his – mixed with shoes and hats and abandoned pairs of swimming trunks, probably still damp as he hadn’t hung them out to dry. Scattered around the room was empty cans and bottles. An empty box of condoms in the paper bin. As they catch your eye, a question comes to you.

“Are we exclusive?”

At first you wonder if JJ even heard you, as he doesn’t reply for a while. When you look over to see if he was off in his own thoughts, he’s watching you, as if you were the one who was supposed to answer.

“I don’t know,” he says noncommittedly.

“Okay, lemme ask it another way,” you mumble, putting out your cigarette on the windowsill ash tray. “Have you slept with anyone apart from me since we started hooking up?”

JJ looks away and out the window, as if he doesn’t want to answer. His jaw clicks tighter. You frown. Things suddenly feel tense, awkward even. It never had been that way between the two of you, not even after the first time you fooled around.

“Jayj?”

“Have you?”

When he asks, he’s looking you in the eyes again. There’s a bite to his words as if he’s proposing a challenge. But you’re not shy to talk about it.

“No,” you shrug. “No point, really.”

“No point?”

“Like, you’re not…terrible,” you eventually settle on, careful to avoid boosting his ego more than you already had that night. “And it’s easy.”

“Easy?”

“Are you gonna repeat everything I say?” you wonder sardonically, quirking a brow.

“Why’re you asking me this?”

“Just wondering,” you say, becoming uncomfortable as his tone seems to harden more and more. “Thought we should know who each other’s seeing and stuff.”

“Why? We use protection, it’s not like there’s any point,” JJ practically grumbles.

“Jesus Christ, it really isn’t that deep,” you half-laugh. You start to wish you hadn’t put out your cigarette.

“It’s not like you’re special or anything.”

And okay, ouch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re good in bed. That’s it,” JJ tells you in an even tone.

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline; waiting for this cold façade to break. It doesn’t. He holds your gaze, unfaltering.

“Seriously?” you ask, voice weaker than you want it to be.

JJ doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes one last hit of his joint before putting it out. Then he’s standing up from the bed.

“It’s late,” he says, looking around his floor. He finds a t-shirt (gives it a sniff and seems to think it’s clean enough) and pulls it on. Then he’s searching again, and you watch as he digs out your clothes, holding them out to you. It takes you a moment to catch on.

“Are you serious?”

JJ shrugs. “It’s late, is all. Not like you were gonna stay over anyway.”

Any humour is gone. You knew you weren’t going to sleep over; you’d only done that once on accident. That wasn’t what offended you. It was the way JJ had gone about it, like you were some nameless chick in his bed who he needed to sneak out before his parents came home…It made you feel dirty. It made you feel used.

Snatching the clothes from him, you get up and begin to change. JJ doesn’t watch. Instead, he kicks about things on his floor in some attempt of tidying. When you’re back in your own clothes, his t-shirt now in your hand, you make a point to toss it on the bed.

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mumble, heading to his bedroom door.

“What?”

“I said fuck you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” JJ snaps, glaring at you.

Something akin to a laugh comes from your mouth, but there’s a bitterness to your tone. “When you’re man enough to talk, lemme know.”

“Get out of my room,” JJ darkly says.

You shake your head. With a scoff, you tell him, “gladly”, and then you walk out of his room. The tears don’t come until you’re outside the house, as if the sting of the wind sobers you up to the situation.

For the eighth time, it was making up.

The house party some random Pogue had thrown was in full swing. Some Kooks had caught wind, naturally, and decided to join the festivities. For the most part, it was Pogues, with the odd, innocent tourist mixed amongst the lot. JJ liked it that way. He felt like he was amongst his people; could let his guard down more.

Kiara was sat outside on a porch swing with Pope, the two seemingly in light conversation. JJ wandered over with a beer in hand and snuck up behind the dark-haired girl. He grinned to himself as he suddenly grabbed her shoulder, shouting in her ear. She let out a yelp, swatting at him as he started laughing. Pope rolled his eyes, also a little spooked, and JJ gave a half-hearted apology through his laughs. He sat between the pair on the swing, encouraging it to rock with his heels dug into the dirt.

“How many are you on?” Pope asked, nodding down to the can.

JJ shrugged. “Who cares? It’s a party.”

“So this has nothing to do with you and your lover having trouble in paradise?” Kie wondered, voice teasing.

JJ rolled his eyes and took a swig. “She’s not my ‘lover’.”

“Hook-up?”

“Bed-pal?”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Alright, alright,” JJ groaned, waving away their synonyms. “Hilarious, guys.”

“What happened with that? I thought you two were hitting it off,” Pope said soberly.

“We were, I guess,” JJ admitted. He looked out to the garden with a sigh and then took another drink. “Doesn’t matter, though. It’s done now.”

“Done?”

“The ‘best sex you’ve ever had’ is just done?” Kie checked.

“Yep,” JJ said, flashing her what he hoped was an unbothered grin. He held up his can as if in cheers. “Use them and lose them, is what I say.”

“JJ—”

“No commitment, no sha-mittment.”

“Wise words, Aristotle,” Pope mumbled.

JJ finished his can in several large gulps and crushed it beneath his grip.

“Need a refill,” he announced. He staggered to his feet, swaying when he stood. He could see Kie’s concerned gaze from his peripheral and pointed at her - just. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’ll be sure to have the ambulance on standby,” Pope assured sarcastically, watching JJ walk away. He kindly flipped them off as he went.

“Assholes,” he muttered to himself.

The world was dragging, taking too long to catch up with him, and he struggled to find the kitchen. Had someone moved it? What the hell?

When he found himself in a hallway which he hadn’t yet been in, JJ knew he was both lost and hammered. Whoops.

“JJ?”

He spun around, blinking slowly and rapidly, all at once.

It was you, stood in a sundress, worn down with a grey zipper cardigan and trainers. You frowned at him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

“How much have you had?”

“Just a couple,” JJ said, shrugging. “What’s it to you?”

“It…isn’t,” you say, looking off.

JJ suddenly panics - scared you’re going to walk away - and he finds himself grabbing for your wrist. You make a move as if you’re going to take it from his grip, but then you don’t. He aimlessly guides you into a quieter room, where the music isn’t so blaring and the chatter of others doesn’t bounce of the walls. It happens to be a bathroom.

He locks the door and spins around, immediately feeling green.

“You okay?” you tentatively ask.

JJ nods, but that only makes it worse, and in a matter of seconds he’s darting for the toilet.

There’s something so wonderfully humiliating about throwing up.

“It’s alright,” you say, rubbing his back. He feels the weight of your hand move up and down against his damp t-shirt. JJ cringes into the toilet. So. Embarrassing.

“Sorry,” he gasps, preparing for more to come.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you mumble.

He hears you shift around and notices as you sit down, back against the wall. You’ve taken your hand from his back and instead have placed it in his hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly.

“Feel better?”

“Maybe,” he sighs. You nod and lift your arm to flush the toilet.

After a few more bouts of vomit, JJ’s sure there’s nothing left. He leans his cheek against the seat of the toilet, the porcelain cold on his skin, and watches as you get up and head to the sink. You find an abandoned solo cup and rinse it out, filling it with water and offering it to him.

“Here,” you say. He drinks.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to help.”

“Sure I did. If you died, I would’ve been the last person to see you alive,” you tell him, making him laugh.

“Nice to know your heart’s in the right place.”

“You don’t sound so drunk now,” you say.

“Thanks,” he repeats, less grateful.

He sighs and sits up, leaning against the bathroom wall. The room’s spinning less. His ears aren’t rining as badly. There are the remnants of booze blurring the lines between what he wants to say and what he doesn’t.

Someone tries the door and you yell at them to leave. JJ’s never heard you yell before. It sounds unnatural.

“I’m sorry for the other night.”

His eyes shoot open.

Looking to you, wondering if he misheard, he finds you’re already watching him. You’re fiddling with your knuckles, picking at some scabbing, probably the aftermath of training. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you box. You’ve always had an edge to you but picturing you fighting someone…The thought was sexy as hell, he was unashamed to admit.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, as if worried he hadn’t heard, and he comes back to reality.

“About what?”

“About the other night. About asking if we’re exclusive. Like you even owe me that sort of explanation,” you say. “We had a good thing going. It worked for both of us, and I messed it up.”

JJ doesn’t say anything. You sigh, taking his silence as space to continue, and you look down to watch your handiwork as you go on.

“I’m not great at relationships. I mean, I don’t think I am. Every single one that I’ve been in ends up in flames, so…Not the best track record.”

JJ watches as you sigh again, tossing your head back to stare at the ceiling. Your throat is empty of love bites and it looks foreign.

“I try my best in them. Try to be the good girlfriend. Fun and unassuming and pretty and funny. Present and thoughtful. I think I’m doing a good job, and then…Boom. Another one in the shitter. Guess I’m just the common denominator.”

“Denominator?”

“I’m the common thread,” you clarify, looking to him again. You shrug. “But, all cards on the table, I felt like I didn’t have to try with you. I never felt like I was needing to put on a show or think about things as much. Maybe it was because we were only hooking up, but there was never any pressure to be the better version of me. Maybe there is no better version of me. Maybe I just…am.”

JJ stares at you for a minute and you seem to hear back what you’ve said, cause then you’re cupping your face and laughing, embarrassed.

“God, that was so cringey,” you chuckle beratingly. “I promise I’m not high.”

“It wasn’t cringey,” JJ tells you.

Your laughter dies down. You don’t make a move to remove your face from your hands, though. It’s easier for JJ that way, to tell you the truth without having you watch him. If you can lay all your cards out, then so can he. Thank God for vodka, he thinks.

“My mum and dad weren’t the best role models,” JJ admits, clearing his throat. It feels raw after throwing up. “She dipped and my dad’s…a mess. It’s a lot and I won’t bore you with it all but…I just don’t do well with relationships. I barely do well with friendships. Half the time I wonder why my friends hang around with me, and the other half I spend wondering when they’re gonna leave. When they’re gonna realise that I’m nothing special, or important.”

“JJ,” you whisper, going to lift your head. JJ panics and dumbly shoves your face back into your palms. You let out a bark of laughter, and then start nodding as if in understanding. “Okay. Go on.”

JJ takes a breath, removing his hand from your hair.

“I hook-up with people cause it’s easy and there’s no strings and all that crap, and it makes me feel good. But you’re different to the other people I’ve slept with. You’re funny and witty and would say these really nice things out of the blue. You’d do nice things, too. Like when you made me mac and cheese one time after we’d fooled around cause I said I’d been craving it for days. Nobody’s ever really done anything like that for me. I wasn’t sure how to react.”

Here it comes – crawling up his throat. The thing he was terrified to admit. The thing he was so scared to tell you, that he threw whatever thing you had going down the drain, and then apparently let you believe that it was you that steered them off the road.

“We were exclusive. I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else when I was with you.”

JJ doesn’t give you time to react or respond. The words are falling out of him now.

“I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want you to leave, and it freaked me out cause I’ve never felt like that with a girl before. All my God damn thoughts were about you, like I was brainwashed. Fuck – they still are! It’s like I wake up and think about it. Think about what you’re doing and where you are. Think about getting you off. Think about how you looked when I told you to leave. How fucking scummy that was of me.

But I got scared. I got scared when you asked me cause it meant we’d have to actually acknowledge that there was something more there, and that things would change, and that terrifies the shit out of me because when things change, it’s usually for the worst. You’d see the real me and my life and learn about all my shit, and you’ll see that I’m nothing good. And I just start thinking about when it’s gonna end. How I’m gonna mess it up, cause I always do.”

He catches his breath. The words hang heavy in the air. JJ stares at you. You still have your face in your hands.

He leans back against the wall and looks down at his fingers, twisting some of his rings. He slowly lets out a breath, pressing his eyes shut.

“Sorry. That was a lot.”

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Can I look up now?”

JJ can’t help but laugh. Looking to you, he quietly tells you, “Yes, you can look up now.”

When you do, JJ immediately spots the tears on your cheeks. His heart clenches. It’s a new feeling. Strange and unpleasant, though not for the reasons he thought it would be.  

“Not everyone leaves, JJ,” you say, wiping your face.

He shrugs.

“I mean it,” you affirm. He sees when an idea comes to mind, your beautiful face lighting up. “There’s this song I like. I guess it’s spoken poetry. It’s called Sunscreen. In the song, the guy says something. He says, ‘accept that some friends will come and go, but hold on to a precious few.’”

JJ frowns, unsure where you’re heading.

“And whilst I agree that you yourself have to hold on, there’s also the other person holding on for you. Sticking their feet in and telling you that they’re not gonna leave when things get just a bit tough. I mean, I feel like you and John B have been friends for ages. One of the pictures in the chateau is of you guys really young.”

“Since the third grade,” JJ quietly says.

Smiling back, you take a breath then say, “I can’t promise you that everyone’ll stay, but I can promise you that I want to. I want to stay, with you. I want to know all the ugly things and I want you to know the ugly things about me. Nobody’s whole and nobody’s perfect, and everybody’s shit scared of opening themselves up because the moment you do, you can get hurt. But sometimes to live, I think you’ve gotta get a bit hurt. So, I want to stay, but only if you want to me to.”

JJ slowly began to smile.

He did. He wanted you to stay. He wanted you to meet his friends and to watch him surf. He wanted to have you stay over and have the balls to be there when you woke up. He wanted to see you in the morning, eating breakfast, and after sex, spent and tired. He wanted to watch you train and box, and cheer you on and kiss the bruises. He wanted to know the things you hid about yourself, and the things that made you somehow imperfect. He wanted your smile and your dumb jokes and the way you like to have the control, the way you fight him for it. He wanted the way you made him feel and the reassurance just your company brought, that somebody wanted him too.

JJ wanted you.

“I want you to stay,” he said. He swallowed and smiled, properly. “I want you to stay with me.”

Your face glowed with your smile. Crinkles by your eyes and a slight girlish giddiness as you quietly laugh down at your hands, bashful all of a sudden. Bashful like you didn’t know that his dying wish was to be baptised in your spit. Like you didn’t get off on being on top; of having him weak under your spell.

“If I hadn’t just thrown up, I’d fuck you right now, right here,” JJ says.

You bark out a laugh, tossing your head back before smiling at him. “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna toss me out on the streets after like a hooker?” you risk in a joke.

JJ rolls his eyes and tries to shove away the shame he feels for doing that. He knows it’s in the past now. Can tell by the way you bite your lip through your smile.

“Shut up.”

“Wow. Incredible come back,” you push. He laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m serious. Shut up.”

“Make me.”

The look in your eye becomes almost dark. There’s a quirk to your smile that makes his stomach clench and shrink. He gnaws on his lip. Somehow dragging his eyes from yours, he looks to the bathroom sink and cupboard. He forces himself to his feet and tugs it open, looking around for something – anything – that’ll get rid of the vomit taste stuck on his tongue. A toothbrush. Fuck yes. Maybe God doesn’t hate him after all. When you catch on to what he’s doing, you start to laugh. He quickly brushes his teeth and tongue, rinsing out his mouth.

“Seriously? Guys and their dicks, Jesus.”

“Shut up,” he gurgles, pointing at you with the brush. You laugh harder and JJ can’t help but smile. The best goddamn laugh.

Spitting out, he wipes his mouth, tosses the toothbrush to the side, grabs your hands and tugs you up to your feet. His lips are on yours in a second, clumsy and frantic, and your laughter doesn’t die off immediately. It does when he picks you up, lifting you onto the sink. You gasp against his mouth, somewhat caught off guard. Hands wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, JJ feels as you wrap his legs around his waist and tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling back. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavy. You open your eyes slowly and smile, sweet. You’re so sweet. “I missed this.”

“Damn right you did,” you smirk.

There you are.

As you start making out again, there’s something deeper at play. His hands move to your thighs, working up your sundress, and your fingers tug at his hair in the most delicious way. He groans against you. He’s hard and desperate and horny and still somehow a little tipsy. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything about this is just…

“You gonna eat me out or what?”

The words, whispered right down his ear…JJ’s surprised he doesn’t come on the spot. Somehow, he finds his control, enough so to reply, “didn’t anybody teach you manners, princess?”

When you kiss, it’s teeth and tongue, and dirty and messy, and fucking delectable. JJ begins down your neck, over your chest, finding enough space on your collar bone to suck a love bite. It was driving him crazy, seeing your skin unmarked. You shrug off your cardigan and lean back a little, hands scrambling to not slip on the damp sink’s porcelain. You watch him as he makes his way to his knees, shoving up your skirt, and lift yourself off the edge of the sink enough for him to slide your panties down your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him in a pant.

JJ’s eyes glance up to meet yours. Sees the way your teeth are sunk into your lower lip, a small smile adorning your flushed face. The beginnings of a love bite forming already. It’s the feeling of one of your feet digging into his shoulder blade, urging him to you, that spurs him on.

He takes his time eating you out. Savours the moans and bathes in your whimpers. The sinful sweetness of you on his tongue. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs, trying to find some self-control. They’ll probably bruise. It’s a nice thought. It’s ephemeral, over too soon; you come with a near-silent moan, ankles locking around him, holding him against you. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“JJ,” you sigh, sounding desperate. He feels you shift and falls back on his haunches, wiping at his face. Licking his lips. Closing his eyes, he tries to level himself. He has to make it last, at least just a little longer.

The feeling of your hand prying at his shirt has him coming back to reality. JJ looks up at you, panting a little, and smiles lazily at the fucked-out look on your face. He helps you pull him to his feet, kissing you the moment he’s standing above you, smirking as he hears you moan from your own taste. You’re fucking filthy. And it’s only for him. The thought makes him desperate to fuck you.

It seems your mind is on the same track because your fingers start fumbling with his short’s zipper. He pulls away to help you tug them off, dragging his boxers with them.

“You got anything?” you ask, voice no more than a breath.

JJ scrambles through his thoughts and nods, shoving a hand through his damp hair and grabbing for his wallet; digging about with shaking hands, retrieving a condom. You take it from him and open it - giggling in a way that’s too sweet for the salaciousness of the moment - and put it on him, rubbing for longer than you need to. Somehow, he forces your hand from him.

“Can’t do that or I’m not gonna last,” he breathlessly chuckles before pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your arms loop back around his neck, tongue slipping into his mouth, and JJ’s hands slip under your legs and pull you to sit on the very edge of the sink.

The moment he sinks into you, both of you sigh against one another, body’s singing as if in reverence. The sex is rough and rushed and rapturous. Your head rests on his shoulder and your moans fall straight into his ear, as if coming straight from God’s mouth.

And once again, it’s all over too soon. You finish first, JJ soon after, gasping against your shoulder, damp and clammy with sweat. As he fucks you both through it, slowly coming to a stop, your fingers thread gently through his hair, rubbing soothingly at his scalp. He rests in you for a while. The two of you slowly catch your breath, arms tangled around one another, a head on the other’s shoulder.

You’re the first to move, and you do so only enough to kiss him. Tender now. Almost loving. JJ sighs into it, stroking your back gently. The thought of having you near again…It’s almost like he has air back in his lungs. It’s a strange feeling, a bizarre and new one, but JJ’s no longer scared of it like he was before. How can he be when you’re right there with him?

Breaking apart, your foreheads rest against one another, and JJ braves opening his eyes. You’re already looking at him. The two of you smile at the same time, and you begin to laugh.

“Not bad, huh?”

JJ grins.

“Best you’ve ever had?”

“Oh shut up.”

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj smut #jj maybank x reader smut #jj x reader smut #jj fic #jj maybank fic #outer banks #the outer banks #outer banks fic #outerbanks #the outerbanks #outerbanks fic #obx #obx fic #jj preference #jj one-shot #jj standalone #jj maybank one-shot #jj maybank standalone #pogue #pogues #pogue preference

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #au #series #daddy lessons #backwoods au #obx #the outer banks

[ghostselena]

Oxytocin

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Needy and aching for some relief, you turn to Rafe, who is more than happy to help you with your problem

Warnings: Spit, Creampie (wrap it up), breeding kink, choking, just pure filth, so many other more dirty shit, 18+ [Slightly Edited] {THIS POST WAS FLAGGED BUT IT SURVIVED! ENJOY THIS SHIT CAUSE IT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITES}

a/n: ;)) ahahahahahahahaha enjoy this one ;) [This has been in my drafts for almost 2 months oml]

You may not post or use this as your own anywhere.

---

You groaned for the third time as you threw your phone next to you. You’ve been trying to find the perfect video to get yourself off for the past 25 minutes and to your dismay, there was zero hope of finding one you might like.

You lay in bed, contemplating what to do.

Call Jj? See what the gang is up to?

Maybe, your sneaky link who would be more than happy to help you?

Grabbing your phone, you press the familiar name and sent him a text, hoping he'd be willing to help you out.

‘Are you busy?’ You typed quickly with your thumbs, praying he’d see the message on time.

Not even 2 minutes later your phone is vibrating as he responds with a simple, ‘You know where to find me.’

It was your usual spot, hidden away from the public eye in the corner of a parking lot. The spot was covered by the dead light that no longer worked above the spot, giving you both all the privacy you could ever need.

There stood his truck parked in the corner, in all its glory.

Quickly trotting towards the door, you open it to be greeted by a grinning Rafe, who was wearing khakis shorts and a black polo.

Those damn shorts.

“Someone having trouble with their fingers?” He teased, leaning back against his seat before turning to face you, the air hitting his face and keeping him from melting at the sight of you.

You wore a simple loose dress, giving him the quick access that he needed.

But he wasn’t gonna give you what you wanted today like he usually did. No, he had a whole plan made up in his mind, a fantasy that’s been taunting him for the last few days.

“Oh, shut up.” You respond, closing the door behind you, leaning towards his face to press a soft kiss against his lips, which he happily returned, his hands wandering down to your ass to squeeze it tightly against his hands.

“Mhm, missed daddy that much, then?” His wandering hands slid your underwear to the side, his index finger sliding down your folds slowly, collecting your arousal, “All needy for my cock, huh sweetheart?” He whispered against your ear, your hands gripping onto his bicep as he finger-teased your entrance

“Rafe..” Your lips moaned against his ear, pushing back against his finger, hoping for some relief.

“Tsk tsk, not that easy today,” His tone warning you, sliding his hands to press you back into the seat.

You sat there confused, leaning back on your seat while you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

He stayed quiet and chuckled, "You see this?" he pointed down at a tent in his pants, his package poking painfully against the buttons, "He needs some love from you, don't you think?" grabbing the seats handle on the side, he pushed the seat back with his body, giving you better access to his angry member.

Without a word you leaned forward, your fingers holding onto the buttons as you unbutton his shorts, his body rising up to help you slide them down to his knees.

Not wanting to tease him you slipped his briefs down along with his pants, an angry cock head staring back at you. Swollen and red with pre-cum leaking from his tip. His hands wrapped themselves against your hair, gripping it tightly to get a better view of your face.

Your tongue pressed against his slit, earning a hiss from his mouth as he groaned. Not wanting to tease you wrapped your lips around his tip, sliding your head down as you took him down your throat, choking as you did so.

He was far too big for your mouth and he loved it. His hands pressed your head down as you moaned against his thick shaft, your hand cupping his balls as you held them, squeezing them softly.

"That mouth was made for my cock," he groaned, not wanting to keep his eyes off of you

You moaned against him in agreement, earning a pull against your hair, "Just like that pussy was made for me, that small hole of yours loves me."

His hand traveled to grab onto your dress, pulling it up to slide a finger down your folds and into your welcoming warm cavern.

He pumped his finger against you, not hesitating to add two more, stretching your walls with his fingers. You clenched around them; tears rolling down your eyes as he kept your head down for a few seconds each time you had him down your throat

“Look how she reacts, she missed daddy so much, didn’t she?” He purrs down at your aching pussy, yearning for his cock

With a soft slap to your clit he pulls your head back, tapping your chin, “Open.”

You’ve never felt dirtier, your mascara was smeared around your eyes, and a string of saliva connected you and his angry cock as you stared up at him, catching your breath.

You stuck out your tongue, waiting patiently for what’s to come, “such a good girl f’me.” He sighed in contentment, leaning forward slightly as he spat down against your mouth, letting it string down before pressing a rough kiss against your lips, gripping your hair tightly in his hands.

Your hands never left his cock, pumping him slowly as you move your lips against his, tongue pressed against his own before he pulled away, tapping your ass, “On top.”

He pushed his seat all the way back, sliding off his polo shirt while you waited.

His hands grabbed you towards him, keeping them against your cheeks, spreading them slowly as you slid down his cock, earning a gasp from the both of you as you did so.

“How can you feel so much bigger than last time?” You whimpered, hands pressed against his chest as you slid down all the way. His hand pressed against your stomach, a small smile forming on his lips, “Can’t you tell how much he’s missed you? You’re his home.”

His hips pushed up against yours, earning a melodic moan, “She’s practically begging to be creamed.”

You whimpered, pressing your face against his neck while you slammed your hips down against his repeatedly, swallowing him in with each thrust.

"Fuckk!" you cry out in pleasure, overwhelmed with his thick girth hitting each spot inside of you, eyes rolling back trying to savor every moment.

His hands slid up to your throat, pulling your face back to keep his eyes on yours as he wrapped his hands around your throat, pushing up against you with a merciless rhythm, knocking all the air out of you in one quick brutal pace, your mouth hanging open—his lips hovered over yours to spit against your mouth, letting out a soft growl on your lips, "Taking me so fucking well."

You let out a few strangled noises, your walls tightening around him, "I'm- fuck. I'm close,"

His movements slowed down as you spoke, feeling empty after he slid out of you, "No, you're not."

You whined, your eyes watering at the thought of being denied to cum, "Rafe, please," you begged, pressing small kisses to his lips as he shook his head, gripping your sides while he opened the door, "Quiet."

He stood up, looking around the deserted area before looking down at your spread body, "M'gonna fuck you out here, and you better be fucking quiet."

Tapping your body to turn over, you pressed your chest against the warm seat, legs held up as you stood up and bend over slightly, not responding.

That earned you a slap against your ass, earning a whimper from your plump lips, "Did I make myself clear, slut?"

"Yes," you quickly nod, pressing back against his cock, your cunt inviting him back in as he slid back into you, biting his lips to stay quiet.

With both of his hands against each side of your hips, he leaned down as he pounded into you roughly, his desperate thrusts pushed you over the edge, the familiar build-up forming in your stomach as you twirled your hips back against his quickly, biting into your arm to keep yourself from screaming.

His lips pressed against your ear, heavily breathing against you— the sound of your skin clapping got louder, his hunger for devouring you taking over, "Such a slut for letting me take you at this hour, begging for my cock,"

One of his hands slid down to rub against your clit in a circular motion, knowing just how to control your body.

Your body was on fire, your cheeks burning hot while your heart raced at an alarming rate, not able to hold yourself back as your muscles tightened, your legs trembling as you came undone.

He stayed quiet, letting you finish yourself off on his cock, your pussy clenched around his tip, earning the seed that now filled her warm cavern, a quiet moan slipping past his lips as he painted your walls, "Shouldn't have done that."

His body came to a halt, sliding out of you and pressing two fingers against your entrance, pushing his essence back into you, "Now I'm really gonna breed you."

He turned you onto your back, rubbing his tip against your aching and needy entrance before bucking his hips against yours, the sound of a police car from afar earning his attention— a small smirk appearing on his face as he looked down at you, "And you better hurry, before we get caught."

--

Tag : (let me know if you wanna be added )

@gillybear17

-

Feedback will forever be really, deeply, and simply appreciated. I’d love to know what you think!

#rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #jj maybank #the outer banks #outerbanks #drew starkey x you #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #obx #jj mayback x reader #outer banks #obx fic #john b routledge

[emsgoodthinkin]

ALRIGHT, so what I (don’t) do need is my 🧠 (telling) begging me (them) to drag me into the woods and do anything they want to me I— FUCK

Reblogs appreciated:>

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #jj maybank #obx fanfiction #the outer banks #rudy pankow #dark!rafe cameron #dark!jj maybank #rafe cameron smut #jj maybank smut

[bumblesimagines]

Big fan of your work. Unsure if you're taking requests, but thought I'd reach out just in case. Keep up the awesome work!

Sarah Cameron

I knew you'd be dating them

how long did it take you to find someone new?

this is a little awkward i have to admit

I knew you'd be dating them

how long did it take you to find someone new?

this is a little awkward i have to admit

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, Gender Neutral!Reader

Requests for series and imagines are closed! I don't really count sentence starter lines as requests since I am asking for em to be sent in!

The rapid, insistent knocking on the front door echoed throughout the house, eliciting a groan from you as you tugged the headphones off your head and stood up from the couch. You headed down the short hall toward the front door and unlocked it, tossing it open without bothering to check the peephole. Your brows immediately furrowed at the group standing on your porch, their faces too familiar and consistent in your life to forget. The Pogues. 

"Uh, hey, (Y/N)!" Pope greeted, dropping his curled fist and shoving it in the pocket of his shorts. Your eyes flickered over to JJ, watching him slowly set the small cat statue back in its place with an awkward, sheepish smile. Your gaze moved away from the reckless blonde, trailing over the rest of the Pogues until they settled on Sarah fucking Cameron. She stared back at you with lips drawn in a tight-lipped smile. 

"Not interested." You told them and began closing the door, only for Pope to stick his leg in the gap and push back against it. You groaned again and relented, releasing the door and crossing your arms over your chest with a small scowl. Pope smiled innocently and cleared his throat, removing his leg from the doorway and glancing back at his friends. "Ya'll selling Girl Scout cookies or what?"

"No, actually," Pope laughed awkwardly. "We, uh... well, you see-"

"We need something from your great-aunt, (Y/N). Mrs. Crain? We- We were wondering if you could help us get on her property... without... dying... like her husband." Kiara swiftly cut in but her confidence bubbled down tremendously. You raised your brows, lips slowly curling upward into a half-amused half-bitter smile. 

"And why the hell would I help a bunch of strangers and my ex-girlfriend?" You questioned and relished in the shocked looks that passed over each of their faces, apart from Sarah, of course. She dipped her head immediately, fingers brushing through her golden locks as she forcibly cleared her throat and tugged her hand free from John B's. 

"Well...  this is a little awkward I have to admit," JJ muttered, scratching his temple and sucking his teeth. "We, uh, we did not know that."

"Yeah, I figured." You glanced at him before settling your attention on Sarah, lifting a brow at her when she refused to meet your gaze. "How long did it take you to find someone new? After, you know, you cheated on me with Topper Thornton and then broke up with him? To be honest, I knew you'd be dating him eventually. You've always loved a little chaos, haven't you, Sarah?" 

Pope glanced back at his friend and pursed his lips before he took a small step to shield her from your scathing glare. "Uhm, well, you two can chat about this later, I guess. Like J said, we didn't know. We just came here for a favor-"

"I know how you idiots work, Heyward. I do this and you'll be coming back whenever it's convenient. Like I said," You grabbed the door handle again and shot them a fake smile, shutting the door right in their faces after uttering, "Not interested."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #the outer banks #outer banks #obx #obx x reader #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #obx x you #obx x y/n #outer banks x male reader #outer banks x female reader #outer banks x gender neutral reader #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #jj maybank #pope heyward #john b routledge #sarah cameron x reader

[geminijade]

Name Something That You Might Hurt Yourself Riding On 🔥🥵

#i wanna ride him #rudy pankow #rudeth #rude boy #rudy pankow fluff #rudy pankow smut #jj maybank #obx jj #jj obx #outer banks jj #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #outer banks pogues #outer banks netflix #outer banks #the outer banks #netflix obx #obx netflix #obx smut #obx2 #obx3 #obx #man crush monday #man crush #man crush everyday #man crush forever #man candy #he's so fine #he's so gorgeous #he's perfect

[sublimecatgalaxy]

any fluff or hurt/comfort related to my life rn would be appreciated ❤️ with our baby daddy Rafe of course 😃

You said baby daddy, I took it literally :D

"I'll get her, stay here." Rafe mutters, rolling over with a groan at the sound of our daughter crying in the other room. I go to move but am quickly reminded of the cramping pain in my lower abdomen, C-section scars still aching painfully. "Seriously, don't move." Rafe presses a quick kiss to my forehead and he's out of the room in a moments notice, leaving me to shift around the bed, reaching for the remote.

It's been like this day in and day out since we brought our daughter home from the hospital; sleeping a few hours before she calls out for us, keeping us awake for the rest of the night only for her to fall asleep the minute she's in Rafe's arms. Daddy's girl like her mama.

"She's just fussy." Rafe whispers as he closes our bedroom door, his eyes squinting in the bright light of the TV. He rounds the bed, soft eyes looking down at the sleeping infant in his arms with a fond smile. "You guys are going to be the death of my sleep schedule."

"What sleep schedule?" I tease, rubbing my eyes before reaching down to pull my sweatpants back, looking at the healing, itchy scar with a frown.

"Touche." Rafe laughs, leaning back against the headboard as our child coos in his arms, reaching up to grab whatever she can. "Do you need anything? Water? Meds?" Rafe asks, reaching out to brush his hand across my forehead, soothing my sleep deprived headache but I just shake my head, scooting closer to him so I can tuck myself into his side. I drag my fingers against his cheek before moving down to our daughter, soothing a hand over the top of her soft head, peach fuzz hair making me giggle quietly.

"Just you, maybe a movie." I whisper, breathing through the pain and sinking into him as much as I can as the movie plays in the background.

"Alright." He presses a kiss to my forehead, lips lingering against my skin for a moment before whispering. "I got her, you need to rest and heal."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe #rafe x reader #the outer banks #the outer banks fic

[bee6r]

Opposites Attract

Masterlist

{JJ Maybank x !GN! Reader}

Summary: When Y/N moves to the Outer Banks, you are welcomed by the Kooks, but as time goes on, all you want to do is spend more time with a certain Pogue. 

Warnings: Blood, fight scene, & making out

WC: 2k

---------------------

The first time you saw him, it was your first bonfire. Pogues and Kooks alike danced around the flame, sometimes in pairs, other times alone. You were drinking a strong liquid from a flimsy plastic cup, and talking, only half heartedly, to Rafe and Topper. Each was trying to impress you in some way, and though their attempts had begun since the day you had arrived, neither would “let you go,” as they had said. You knew, however, that neither of them could let the other win. 

As the two bickered, you let your gaze wander across the beach, surveying the teens walking over the sandy ground. There were girls in bikinis, despite the chill air, boys with slicked back hair, no doubt trying to impress the others, and some, who you assumed were the Pogues, who looked as if they didn’t care about their appearance. The same people, of course, were the ones that looked effortlessly flawless, soft hair and tanned skin, that curved in every way you would want it to. 

You looked down at your own clothes, and picked at your hair, remembering how much time you had put into looking like this. It had never felt natural, but the outcome, you had convinced yourself, was always worth it. 

When you looked back up at the crowd again, a blond-haired boy caught your eye almost immediately, and you couldn’t think of how you had missed him earlier. His skin was perfect, and his smile, you thought, was immaculate. Based on his clothing and worn out boots, you knew immediately that he was a Pogue, but for the first time since you had come to the Outer Banks, you didn’t really care. 

As he glances your way, probably sensing your eyes on him, you turn back towards Rafe and Topper, who are still arguing. After a couple of moments, you turn back towards him, only to find that his eyes glance back over towards you. You smile and look down, slightly shyly as he notices and when you look back up, he’s smiling as well. 

The second time you saw him, it was at the country club. You had arrived late in the afternoon with your family, wearing casual clothes that hugged your waist and legs. You were deep in conversation with your mother when you entered the large dining room, but your words caught in your throat when you saw him behind the counter serving drinks. 

His uniform made him look even more handsome than before, and you found yourself staring, only snapping back into reality when your mother asked you if you were alright. 

“Huh? Oh, yes,” you respond, stuttering, and as your family makes their way to a seat by the window, you can see the boy looking at you out of the corner of your eye. 

You want to go up to him, ask for a drink, maybe even his name, because you know you’re obsessed with this beautiful boy. You want to know more about him, his family and friends, his life, but you stop yourself. Pogues with pogues and kooks with kooks, you think. 

Eventually a waiter makes their way over to your table, and everyone orders. When the waiter leaves, conversation continues, but all you can think about is the boy behind the counter. 

You are still deep in thought, wondering if he prefers the beach or the woods, when the boy appears, balancing all of your food in his muscled arms. Looking up, you watch him (almost creepily) place a plate down in front of everyone at the table, before making eye contact with you, and setting down your dish. 

“Maam,” he says, a playful smirk appearing slyly on his face, as a blush creeps onto yours. 

“T-thank you.” You murmur, maintaining eye contact with him as he finally turns his attention back to the rest of the table. 

“Anything else I can get you?” He looks around, and when no one responds, glances at you again, and leaves. 

The third time you saw him, you felt a spark. The beach was busy that evening, apparently surfing was a popular pastime as the sun dipped below the waves. You had never been much of a surfer yourself, but saw the enjoyment in it. 

Feet padded across the sand, and the waves rushed against the shore as squeals of delight echoed through the air. Your nose was where it usually lived, in a book. This particular story was a romance novel, love at first sight, the usual. As your eyes scanned the pages, you heard a now familiar voice ripple through the sea of bodies towards you. Looking up, you suddenly saw him.

His hair was wet, and falling in strands over his forehead, and his muscular arms clutched a surfboard at his side. His skin was even more tan than it was just two days prior, and he wore the same gorgeous smile that you had first noticed at the bonfire. 

You noticed, a little too late, that you were staring (yet again), at his indescribable features, and attempted to shake away your need to look, when he met your eyes. For a long moment, you just stared at each other, neither of you making a move closer or further away. Something lurched in your stomach when he sent you a small, sweet, smile, which you returned, and looked back in the direction of his friends, who were already making their way towards the street. As he reluctantly followed, his eyes stole glances back towards you, and you knew that something amazing could happen if you let it. 

The fourth time you saw him, he finally kissed you. It had happened suddenly, and you swore that neither of you had been expecting it. There you were at the midsummer's party, in a new outfit and styled hair, smiling as you talked with Sarah and Wheezie, when you saw him, in his usual waiter uniform, looking as amazing as ever. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were making eye contact again, smiling and blushing at each other. 

“Y/N?” You could hear Sarah ask you, but it wasn’t until Rafe stepped between you and the boy you now knew was named JJ, that you snapped back to reality. 

Rafe was facing JJ, now walking towards him, arms shaking and nostrils flared. 

“What are you doing staring at her, Pogue?” He spat, making JJ cock and eyebrow at him. 

“Sorry Cameron, I didn’t realize she was your property. Does she even know, or are you just helplessly in love with the new girl?” A smirk began to grow on JJ’s face, and if the circumstances were different, you knew that you would be smiling too. 

“Shut your mouth Maybank,” Rafe shouted, almost directly in front of him now, “you don’t know anyt-'' but before he could finish his sentence, JJ had punched him square in the jaw, sending Rafe to the floor. Blood dripped from Rafe’s lip, and you put your hand over your mouth to hide a gasp of astonishment. JJ was on him again in a second, sending him further and further into the ground. 

“JJ,” you start to call, but your voice is quiet compared to the screams and yells of the people around you, as they back away. Instead of trying to speak over the crowd, you walk forwards, grasping JJ by his shoulders and attempting to pull him off Rafe, who at this point is almost unconscious. “JJ!” You say again, and he finally turns to you, his fist still raised in the air, ready to strike. 

“JJ, please,” you say, looking him directly in the eyes, and they visibly soften at the hurt in your voice. “Please don’t.” Slowly he lowers his fist, still looking at you, and you help him off of Rafe. 

“I need to go.” He mutters, looking around at the people still staring at him.

“Wait,” you almost whisper, but he still turns. “Can I come with you?” The words are still a whisper, but JJ hears you as if you’re the only person in the room. He nods, and holds out his hand, which you take. He pulls you along with him, off the porch, through the sand, and towards the street where a motorcycle stands waiting. Swinging a leg over, he pats the seat behind him, and you hope on, wrapping your arms around his waist securely. Over his shoulder, you see him smile. 

JJ takes you to a place he calls “the chateau.” It's an older wooden house right by the water, and though it’s run down, and the lawn is scattered with odd items, it looks comfortable and quiet, away from the bustle of the town nearby. He helps you off the motorcycle, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as your feet fumble on the uneven ground. When the two of you reach the door, he turns to you and pushes the screen open. “Welcome to paradise,” he chuckles, revealing a narrow hallway that leads to the rest of the house. There is a door on either side, and another in the living room. 

He leads you into the kitchen, his hand still holding yours, and you don’t know if he realizes it or not. However, once you reach the counter, he drops it, and turns to you. 

“Why did you stop me?” He asks, curiosity evident in his voice, but he doesn’t sound mad or accusatory, instead, like he is genuinely interested. 

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He smiles.

“You’re pretty cute y'know,” he informs you, “for a kook anyway.” You can’t hide the blush that creeps onto your face as you respond. 

“You too, for a pogue of course.” 

“Of course, of course,” he laughs, looking down at the ground. “I’ve seen you staring at me, the beach, the restaurant. You like me or somethin’?” You blush again, smiling. 

“Don’t act like you don’t stare back.”

“Yeah so?” he chuckles. 

“So, you must like me as much as I like you.” You look up at him, only to find him already staring back at you. 

“Then you must be head over heels for me,” he whispers, walking towards you, and putting his hands on either side of the counter, pinning you in place, his face only inches from yours. You look at him wide-eyed, and he smiles again, “aren’t you sunshine?” And then he kisses you. It’s warm and gentle, but passionate at the same time, and you return the feelings almost immediately, telling him everything you can without saying a word. Your hands reach behind his neck and run through his hair, and his snake around your waist and up your back. You lose the fight for dominance almost immediately but you don’t seem to mind as he pulls your flush against his chest, holding your body impossibly closer to his. 

Finally you break apart slightly winded and gasping for air, your bodies still pressed together. “Nice to meet you too,” he jokes, pulling your lips back towards his own. 

The fifth time you saw him, his arms were around yours on a beach towel. The sun had already set, but the crowd was still present, laughing and calling out for their friends in the dark. His hat rested over your eyes, and his face was buried deep in your neck, soft snores echoing from his throat. Your legs were tangled with his, and despite the heat, the two of you couldn’t have been physically closer. Finally, since the first time you had stepped foot on this new and strange territory, you felt safe and at home, with a boy you never thought you could fall in love with.

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #obx #the outer banks #the outer banks x reader #fluff #ao3 #fanfic #obx x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron #cute #gn reader

[iloveprettyboysblog]

Y/N is Drew's Muse 💕💞

#drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x y/n #drewseph #rafe smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #i love pretty boys #he's so pretty #he pretty #he looks so pretty #pretty #pretty boy #pretty boi #the outerbanks #the outer banks #netflix #obx netflix #obx2 #obx #obx kooks #a picture is worth a thousand words #outer banks netflix #rafe outer banks #outer banks #obx rafe #rafe obx

[kiesargent]

#us rn #obx #the outer banks #jj maybank #pope heyward #jjpope #mayward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #john b routledge #jjpope endgame #tw delusion

[crookedteethed]

18+ Thinking about the Rafe’s receiving a blowjob from reader

a/n: sorry this was longer then expected, I was def picturing reader as me 😭

Season One Rafe, god, you don't know why you asked him. You two were at a kook party (you were out of your element). He said he got some Mary Jane. When you asked if he had anything stronger, he pulled out a small white baggy filled with a white substance. He calls it yayo.

When you reached for the tiny bag, he drew his hand back, talking out the side of his mouth, which his blunt didn't reside on, asking you, "what the fuck are you going to do for me?"

He could tell by your bronzy sun tan and too scruffed-up shoes that you were from the cut, so he knew you wouldn't have the money; that's why he also raised the price on his drugs as soon as he saw you approach him.

You were the one to offer up the BJ, which was an offer Rafe couldn't decline. It'd be so sinister to him: getting a blow job from a pogue? Your pogue lips on his kook cock? Fucking disgusting yet appealing.

After the deed is done and you both get what you want, Rafe's telling all his kook friends about how he'd let you blow him just for a bag of coke and telling them how much of a slut you are.

"And I told her," He tells Kelce. "I would have given the bag to her for a buck, but the bitch just wanted my dick so bad."

Season Two this is a hottake, but I totally can see season two Rafe hiring a sex worker to give him a blow job. I mean, the boy's family is in complete disarray; he has no friends (besides Berry?), and he has blood dripping down from his nose to his chin (I'm talking about the one GIF of him, you know, the one). He needs to blow off some steam.

He sits and waits outside the local strip club. He waits until midnight when the strip club is closed, and some of the girls who strip during the day also trick at night.

He sees you standing in the corner with ripped fishnet stockings and a stubbed cigarette between your fingers. He rolls over to you with a wad of cash already in his hand. You hop into his car, and right then, he tells you to suck it now.

Poor girl, for the next thirty minutes, you'd have to endure Rafe's constant head pushing, the sounds of your gurgling and gagging around his cock, and his dirty mouth telling you:

"Take it, you can take it, can't you? Don't you do this to men for a living? Take it, you slut." : (

Season Three I don't think Rafe would particularly ask you for a blow job. I mean, yeah, he loves them, but I wholeheartedly believe that in season three, Rafe is a pussy eater. But he'd only eat your pussy out of necessity.

He needs an alibi for the night the cross was stolen; he was at home eating his girl out, your honor.

You find out he stole and melted the Pogue's cross, you yell at him for how villainess that was, he guilt trips you on how he doesn't know any better, then he distracts you by eating you out.

He doesn't want you (his first actual girlfriend) to see how everyone else sees him on Kildare Island, so he's laying your body supine on your shared bed, making love to your little clit, and eating your pussy like he's a starved man.

#fem reader #fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #the boy is mine #the outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe outer banks #Rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #outer banks fanfic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron’s, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You slap your hand around Rafe’s wrist, panic surging in your throat. You can’t breathe. You bring your other hand up as you turn in the seat, trying to dislodge his grip as he squeezes tighter. So tight, you feel your eyes bulging.

You smack his shoulder desperately as tears fill the brims of your eyes and the chair tilts with your struggle. He lets you go as you wrench back and topple off the seat completely. Your back hits the floor and knocks the wind out of you a second time.

You wheeze and cough as your throat burns. Rafe chuckles as you hear the pages flutter and he throws the textbook. It lands on your stomach and you groan.

“Tell you what, dork, whatever my dad’s paying you to ‘teach’ me,” he puts a special lilt on teach, “I’ll pay you double to shut the fuck up. You sit there, do whatever it is nerds do and I’ll be on my phone.”

He kicks the chair as he gets up and stomps around the table. He resumes his seat on the other side as you sit up. He swipes his phone into his hand and goes back to flicking the screen with his thumb. You get up silently, holding back another wave of tears as you try not to shake. 

You pick up the book and bring the chair straight. You lower yourself onto the seat and put the textbook beside your laptop. You stare at the screen but can’t read the font. You’re terrified.

All those years, you saw Rafe swaggering down the halls, calling kids names, pushing the nerdiest of the punch into lockers, but he’d never hit a girl. Not openly, though he never had a problem bashing any boy smaller than him.

“If you’re gonna cry, keep it down,” he snickers, “you’re not hot enough for that.”

You blink and stare at the screen. What do you do? Pack up and go? Tell Ward it’s not going to work out. He’ll be disappointed but he can afford someone who wasn’t a former victim of his son’s high school foliies.

You close the laptop and grab your bag, tucking it inside quietly. You’ll just have to break the news to your parents. You’re unemployed, again. That didn’t last long. You hook your knapsack over your shoulder and stand.

“Giving up?” Rafe scoffs without looking up from his phone, “typical.”

You don’t say anything as you round the table and head for the door. Before you can step into the entryway, a searing pain in your scalp lurches you back. You cry out as Rafe drags you into the dining room and pens you in against the table. He fists your hair as he snarls at you.

“Don’t you fucking go tattling on me to daddy,” he growls. “Don’t be a little bitch and sit the fuck down.”

“Let me go–”

“I was fucking serious. I’ll pay you to mind your goddamn business. My dad wants me to read these damn books, so you tell him I read them,” he sneers, “but it’s gotta be fucking believable so go on and sit.”

“Rafe–”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” he spits, “I don’t wanna hear my name on your fucking lips.” You flinch as he yanks your hair, “we got a deal or what?” His eyes drift down to your striped tee shirt, “you could use the money.”

You gulp and glance past him. What other prospects do you have? Sit at home and face the music and have no money or sit here in silence until your time is up.

“Ow,” you squirm, “I– I’ll do it but– let me go.”

He abides as he rolls his eyes and shoves you away from him, “god, you’re fucking whiny.”

“I’m not… I’m not going to stay if you keep doing that–”

“Ah, come on,” he slurs, “tell me it doesn’t get you a little hot. I know you ain’t had other guys up on you.”

That hurts in a different way. You try not to show it as you back away from him. This isn’t a good idea. He’s not exactly stable and you don’t really trust him. Even if he doesn’t follow through, money is money. Besides, he seems more interested in that phone than you.

You go back around the table and sit. You pull the textbook close and Rafe narrows his eyes at you. You raise a palm, trembling despite your efforts.

“To make it convincing,” you say and exhale heavily.

He grumbles and drops back into his seat. You set your bag on the chair next to you and slip your laptop out once more. You pop it open and listlessly drag your finger over the trackpad. You still don’t have the wifi. Solitaire it is.

You yawn and lean your chin in your hand. The tension remains. It’s silent but for his occasional snort or mutter at his phone. He’s just the same as he ever was. The popular kid defiant to everyone and everything around him.

You wish you could be that reckless. Well, you can’t just fall back on daddy’s bank account. You have to work to get top marks just to afford your tuition, but the scholarships don’t pay for your books or your housing. That’s all up to you and what little your parents can scrape up after their own expenses.

As much as you hate his privilege, you envy it. Maybe you would be like him if you had that. Maybe you wouldn’t care either.

You click away at the cards, stacking one on top of the other. You look at the time. Not even twenty minutes in. You’re scheduled for two hours. This is actual torture, even triggering. The last thing you wanted to do was revert to high school. Graduation was the happiest day of your life because it meant you never had to see those people again.

Or so you thought.

Rafe chuffs and lets out a groan. You don’t look up. He’s already proven he’s unhinged, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had full conversations with himself. He knocks the table and another long drone escapes him. The table jolts a second time and your laptop bounces. You sit up to see above the screen.

Rafe aims his phone at his lap. The way his other arm you can tell he’s holding his… you know. What the hell?!

You’re too embarrassed to call him out. You hope at least he doesn’t actually have it out. Oh god, he really has no shame. 

You win and the cards stream down in celebration. Rafe makes another noise. A deep rasp that catches in his throat. Your skin is on fire. You should have left. 

“Uh, where’s the bathroom?” You ask as you get up.

“Dammit,” he growls as he pumps his arm furiously. Is he– “I’m about to–”

Your mouth falls open and you stumble. You panic and quickly turn, nearly sprinting into the kitchen. You stagger through another doorway and down a hallway. You find a half bath and lock yourself inside.

You can’t unsee what you just saw. Why would he do that right there across from you? He’s sick and twisted!

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #daddy lessons #au #backwoods au #series #the outer banks #obx

[ghostselena]

Side to Side

Pairing: Jj Maybank x Reader

Summary: Jj teasing you for walking funny after a night filled with a lot more than just kissing

Warnings: mentions of private body parts, small dirty talk, hinted sexual activities, curse words, 18+ [Slightly Edited]

a/n : short little blurb here, might turn it into a second part ;) feedback is always appreciated!

--

You were extremely sore the next morning, you couldn't comprehend how a skinny tall blonde boy could have that much stamina. The third leg he carried did not help your situation either.

As you sat against the edge of the bed, the memory of it going down brought shivers down your spine as you bit your lip, already craving the sleeping Kraken that slept peacefully with Jj.

You rub your eyes tiredly, not wanting to leave the warm spot. Deciding to stand up, you slowly make your way towards the bathroom to refresh yourself. You wanted to calm down the now awoken need you awfully longed for.

A whistle coming from behind you made you stop dead in your tracks, the bed sheet no longer covering your behind, "Ain't that a sight to wake up to."

Heat rose to your cheeks as you look down, shaking your head, "How long have you been up for?"

"Long enough to watch you waddle, my little penguin," he winked, his hair pushed in every direction as his sleepy eyes dug into yours.

He'd been awake this whole time, admiring your beauty from behind and loving every curve and inch of your body. How did he get so lucky?

A pogue achieving happiness, something that dared to be near impossible to attain for someone like him. Joy wasn't on his agenda until he met you, and damn was he in love.

"I can walk perfectly normal," You huff, covering yourself at the front with the thin silk sheets— ones that barely covered your hardening buds that pressed against the material.

Adjusting himself under the sheets, he licked his lips as he looked away for a second, eyes switching back and forth between your lips and body, "Yeah? walk for me some more."

"Really?"

"Go on," he gestured with his hand, finding amusement within you this early in the morning. He sat up to watch you walk around with a limp, failing to prove your lie that brought a smile to his face.

He chuckled, earning a scowl from you—rather quickly, "Fuck you."

You tried to walk straight, failing miserably as you limped, quietly cursing to yourself for the small lie.

"If you'd let me, I can." he had made his way over to you, his hands now pressed against each side of your hips, "Only after I brush my teeth though,"

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "Mm, cmon then,"

Dragging him towards your shared sink, you both brushed your teeth while poking at each other, eager to have your hands on one another once again.

"Shower sex?" he asked while pulling open the shower curtains, dropping down the towel that covered his now nude body.

He had hoped you agreed, not wanting to push your body's limit too hard.

You pressed your lips against his, using one of your hands to turn the knob, the sound of the water running answering his question, "Better get to it, before I change my mind,"

He wasted to time to grab you and enter the tub with you in his arms, eager to let your warm cavern swallow his now awoken cock.

--

Taglist : (Let me know if you'd like to be added )

@gillybear17 @my-baexht-ls @phildunphyisadilf

#jj maybank #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #outer banks #outerbanks #jj mayback x reader #the outer banks #obx fic #obx #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x pogue!reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x you #jj mayback imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow angst #rudy pankow edit #obx cast #obx netflix

[emsgoodthinkin]

*underwear is creamy*

ah, men with daddy issues 😍

#obx #rudy pankow #austin north #drew starkey #jj maybank #rafe cameron #topper thornton #the outer banks #rafe cameron smut #jj mayback imagine #I didn’t do it

[bumblesimagines]

Kiara Carrera

you're still the asshole i once knew.

can we not do this here?

we never would have worked out, anyway.

you're still the asshole i once knew.

can we not do this here?

we never would have worked out, anyway.

Pronouns: They/Them/Their, Gender Neutral!Reader

Slipping past guests and tossing quick greetings over your shoulder, you made your way through the crowd until you reached your group of friends, your attention dropping to the poorly hidden flask in Sarah's hand. A giggle escaped her and she stepped forward, slinging one arm around your waist loosely and tipping the flask to pour it into your cup of punch. 

"Okay- That's enough, Sarah," You hissed quietly.

"Sorry!" She squeaked and snickered, pulling back to slap her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt at stifling her uncontrollable laughter. Kelce stepped up beside you, sliding one arm around your shoulders and sneakily taking his flask from Sarah. He winked and tucked the flask back into his blazer with a little shimmy of his shoulders before disappearing back into the crowd, likely off to pass the flask around with more classmates.

And with that, Midsummers had officially begun. 

Sarah slipped her arms around your shoulders and swayed along to the music playing. She stumbled occasionally over her short heels, each time giggling like a child and burying her face in your neck until the weight of her body caused you to stumble as well. You bit your tongue the third time it happened, unable to stop the snickering as older guests began glancing over. 

"Wheezie," You called out quietly to the oblivious girl nearby. She looked up from her phone, the furrow in her brow disappearing when she noticed the state of her sister. The brunette sighed dramatically and made her way over, wrapping her arms around Sarah's waist and coaxing her sister into taking a seat and drinking water. 

With Sarah taken care of, for the time being at least, you searched for Kelce in the crowd and found him with ease, murmuring a quiet thanks when he handed the flask over without question. You shuffled off onto the porch and slipped to a less packed area, opening the flask and taking a drink. 

"You haven't changed, have you?" You nearly choked on the liquid in your mouth, feeling it burn the back of your throat as you swallowed and turned around to face the Pogue-turned-Kook-turned-Pogue, otherwise known as your ex-girlfriend, Kiara Carrera. 

Drying your lips with the sleeve of your shirt, you cocked a brow at her. "And you still can't keep your nose out of my business. Guess that makes two of us, doesn't it, Kie?" You shot back, the hint of a grin tugging at your lips when she scoffed and looked away. 

You officially met Kiara Carrera at the academy through Sarah Cameron after the blonde sang her praises for the new girl on the block. She hardly had any friends back then, only a few Pogues she constantly talked about and defended back on the Cut. Sarah integrated her into the friend group quickly, and with the two becoming fast friends, it was only natural she eventually became your friend as well. You eventually got together with Kiara through some encouragement and prodding from Sarah, leading to your first high school relationship and her first ever relationship. 

It'd lasted all of ninth grade and ended two months into tenth grade. Her friendship with Sarah soured and in one last, spiteful disagreement, you chose your childhood friend over her. Kiara took it as well as expected. 

"Well, at least you're still the asshole I once knew." She snapped, folding her arms over her chest but making no move to leave the conversation. Typical. You rolled your eyes, took another swing from the flask to ease the bubbling irritation, and offered it to her. She eyed it for a moment before snatching it from your hand and bringing it to her lips. 

"Can we not do this here? Or would you like to make a scene as always?"

"As always?" She repeated with a humorless laugh, her grip on the flask tightening. "I wasn't the one who took you down to the dock where we had our first date just to break up with you. But, sure, I'm the one always making a scene."

"We were fifteen, Kiara! Get over it!"

"How are you going to tell me to get over it when you pull shit like that?! I told you I loved you the week before you did it. How should I get over that, huh? By getting wasted at summer parties and letting a fucking Cameron dance all over me?" 

"Ah," You snorted. "This is about Sarah. It's always been about Sarah and it'll always be about Sarah and how much you hate her and how you can't believe anyone would ever want to be around her because she's a- what was it you called her? Right, right, I remember: 'a cobra with perfect hair and a pretty smile'." 

"Because she is one!" Kiara nearly shrieked and you groaned, grabbing her arm and pulling her further from the party before the conversation caught anyone's attention. She ripped her arm from your hold the moment her shoes hit the sand and stomped further down the beach until the chatter and party music grew distant. 

"I really need you to get over what happened, Kie. Between us. Between you and Sarah. It happened. Nothing's gonna change that." 

"Yeah, I bet that's what you tell yourself all the time. Nothing's going to change the fact you both abandoned me the minute you grew bored of me."

Taking in a deep breath and pinching the bridge of your nose, you tried keeping your voice even. "I don't know why Sarah didn't invite you to that fucking birthday party, Kiara. I know that I dumped you because you wouldn't stop talking about it. You kept talking shit about a girl I've known since I was wearing diapers! Sarah's a mess but maybe if you hadn't called the damn cops on the party and instead shown up, none of this wouldn't have happened."

"I'm sure it would've happened anyway seeing how far your head is up her ass." Kiara spat, her bracelets clinking together as she drank from the flask and finished its contents. "I bet she's pretty used to your bed, too." 

Your lips pressed tightly together before quirking upward. "That's rich coming from someone whose 'best friends' only keep her around 'cause they think they'll have a chance to smash. Everyone knows it, Kie."

Kiara stared at you silently, her arms hanging limply at her sides and eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Her jaw clenched and unclenched, her brows furrowing until wrinkles formed between them. The flask slipped from her fingers, landing on the sand with a soft thump. She took two long strides forward and in one swift action, her hand collided with your cheek. You staggered backward, the skin immediately beginning to burn and ache and no doubt already turning red. "Fuck you." She murmured and turned on her heel, arms wrapping around herself as she headed back.

"Shit, Kie, wait," You exhaled heavily, grimacing as you brushed your fingertips over your cheek. "I didn't mean it. I'm... sorry." 

Kiara stopped in her tracks, her sniffles audible despite the blowing wind. Her hands lifted to her face and she wiped at her eyes before turning around to face you. You watched her turn back around, her eyes slowly rising up from the sand to meet your face. She pursed her lips and dried her face with her fingers, taking slow steps back toward you. "It's always about Sarah because you chose her over me. It was always her over me. You dumped me for her. Everyone left me for her and- and nobody told me what it is about her that I don't have to make them leave." 

"People at the academy wanted to be friends with you, Kie. You pushed them away 'cause they were Kooks so they stopped trying." Your shoulders deflated, a hint of guilt settling into your chest. It mixed with the anger, bitterness, and heartache. "You're right, though. We never would have worked out, anyway. You would've chosen your friends over me or I would've chosen Sarah and we'd end up going through this anyway. You would still hate me and... I would still feel bad."

"I don't hate you," Kiara admitted softly. "I hate that... that I'm still not over you."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x fem reader #x female reader #x gn reader #obx #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx x reader #the outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #the outer banks x reader #kiara carrera #kiara carerra x reader #kiara carerra x male reader #kiara carerra x you #kiara carerra x y/n #kiara carerra x fem reader