#Gary Pope | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loveharlow · 3 months

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SEVEN - 001

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [9.6k] based on 1x01.

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

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

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

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t have cold towels…”

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

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

“Ah- ouch!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re going out front!”

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

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

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

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

“You little pricks!”

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

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

The Pogues. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatcha got? Some juice boxes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sandbar. The channel changed...”

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

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

“No way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my boy. Pogue style.” JJ encouraged him.

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

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.”

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

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

“Diver down.” Pope saluted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A key...” Pope said unimpressed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought The Chateau looked bad...”

“Motel or Meth-lab?”

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

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

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

“Good to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should go with them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t the towers down?”

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

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

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

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

“Where the hell did you...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know how much these could sell for?”

“I don’t care-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“..touch, any of that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you, five? Stop peeking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?” Kie added.

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

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

“I’m living a nightmare.”

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

“Who’s that?” JJ asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They were straight smugglin’.”

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

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

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

“But usually not in our case…”

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

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

“I warned you once. Listening is fundamental.”

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

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

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

“Kegger?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guys? Guys!” You heard Sarah shouting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JJ!” Kiara yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

“I was saving his life, okay?!”

“By firing a gun you stole?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t wanna talk about this.”

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

“No, dude-”

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

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

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

“And how do you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.”

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

“I know how to use a key, JJ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it just kept getting lower.

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

Zero.

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

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

“Don’t scare us like that!”

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

“What’d you find?” asked Pope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

“Barely. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll have a sick scar, though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...This was my father’s.”

#SVN #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #Spotify #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj x reader #obx jj maybank

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barbydarkoom · 11 months

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Characters you should never trust

#popee the performer #bully game #friday night funkin #gary smith #senpai fnf #indie games #camp camp #daniel cc #eddsworld #tord eddsworld #overtime josiah #uglydolls #lou uglydolls

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peavhyshy · 7 months

Text

- PART I (IS THIS HAPPINESS?)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Heyward!Reader

Summary: in which y/n and find a sunken boat with her brother and friends

Warnings: strong language and underage drinking

Words: 3,585

author's note: so... they don't interact in this part but they will in the next one, I tried to write the parts by episodes but that would be too long of a chapter so it's whatever. next part coming out when i get inspiration to do something.

Series Masterlist

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 I

act one, one

❝Ew, poor fishes!❞

On the precipice of the rooftop stood John B, his heels teetering on the brick edge, a cold beer can nestled in his grip. The building loomed over its surroundings, a three-story behemoth of steel and concrete, basking in the radiance of the setting sun.

Pope, sitting a mere arm's length away, glared at John B with a look that was a cocktail of annoyance and concern. He clutched a drill in his hand, its metallic surface reflecting the mellow sunlight. He grumbled, "That’s what, a three-story fall to the deck? I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival."

John B chuckled, his thumb grazing the rim of his beer can, "Hmm." He wet his fingertip with a swift lick before raising it to the wind, trying to gauge its direction. "Should I do it?"

Pope, his patience dwindling, aimed his drill at him. "Yeah, jump. I’ll shoot you on the way down." The words hung in the air, heavy and ominous.

John B grinned, forming a mock finger gun, "You’ll shoot me?" He mimicked a gunshot, "Pew."

Just then, Kiara emerged from the skeletal structure of the construction site. Her voice was laced with the excitement of discovery, "They’re going to have Japanese towel warmers."

Your face peeks out from behind Kiara, and you chimed in with a hint of worry in your voice, "John B, be careful please. I don’t want you to get hurt."

"This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtles, I guess?”

As Kiara looked up at John B, her eyes filled with concern. "Can you please not kill yourself?" she pleaded, her voice just above a whisper.

JJ, perched on the roof's edge, beer in hand, watched John B sway dangerously. He warned, "Don’t spill that beer; I’m not giving you another one." Your voice resonated with a similar concern, "JJ, don't encourage him. It’s dangerous."

However, John B’s grip slipped, and the beer tumbled down into the abyss. An accidental release. "Whoa! Oh!, Shit." His voice echoed the surprised realization of his fumble.

JJ chuckled, "Of course you did."

Kiara muttered under her breath, "Dumbass," while you just shook your head at John B's clumsiness, "Well, that's one way to get rid of your beer. You're lucky it wasn't something more important."

Pope added, "Yeah, like your phone. That would have been a real tragedy."

John B, stepping back from the edge, chuckled sheepishly, "Sorry, guys. I guess I'm not as coordinated as I thought I was."

JJ laughed, "You think? Maybe you should stick to drinking beer and leave the acrobatics to the professionals."

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by the ominous sound of a car pulling into the yard. As John B turned, he spotted the telltale signs of the ADT car. "Hey, uh, security’s here. Let’s wrap it up. Boys are early today."

"Alright, Humpty Dumpty, let’s roll!" JJ exclaimed, his voice echoing off the surrounding buildings. "Let's go, boys and Y/N!" Kiara echoed.

As the group began their descent, they spotted their old adversary, "Gary, is that you?" JJ yelled.

You hung back uncertainly "Can we please just walk quickly?" you pleaded. "I don't want to run."

The security guard shouted after them, "Get down!" But their laughter only grew louder, their voices ricocheting off the bare walls and exposed beams.

They sprinted through the yard, their footsteps muffled by the sand. Pope attempted to climb the fence but fell flat on his face, his groan drowned by the laughter of his friends. "Get up, Pope; Fatso’s coming."

They ran through dunes, their feet sinking into the soft sand. They cut through a hedge, their bodies brushing against the rough leaves, and finally jumped into John B’s beige van.

As they sped away, the security guard attempted to cut them off. "Check out Gary, gunning for a raise," Pope jokes, watching the guard's futile attempts.

"Wait, slow down," JJ said. As the van decelerated, the guard rushed forward, nearly grabbing them before they pulled away again.

"Oh, come on, guys. You’ll give him a heart attack."

JJ shouted back at the security guard, "You're so close! You can do it." He threw a beer bottle at him, "There you go. They don’t pay you enough, bro."

Kiara, by now exasperated, interjected, "JJ, stop. Stop."

JJ groaned, his voice laden with disappointment, "Oh come on. That sort of is just begging to be punished." All the while, the van sped away, leaving the security guard in their dust, and the echoes of their laughter in the air.

You turned your pleading eyes to JJ once more. "Please stop teasing him. It's not nice."

The afternoon sun beams down on the Pogues as they lounge on the deck of their boat. JJ reclines on his back, blowing rings of vape smoke into the air. Nearby, Pope sits engrossed in a Kafka novel, occasionally glancing up to observe and comment on the passing seabirds. Kiara sways gently to the music pouring through her headphones, eyes closed, soaking in the melodies. In the shade, you quietly read a book, stealing glances at the cloudless blue sky.

"It's such a nice day to be out on the water. The sunshine feels so good," you say with a content smile towards the sky.

Kiara slides her headphones down and nods in agreement with her best friend. "I know, right? Makes me want to just sail away and never come back."

"Statistically speaking, our chances of long-term survival would be extremely low," Pope interjects matter-of-factly without glancing up from his book.

Kiara playfully pushes Pope's shoulder. "Thank you, Mr. Sunshine. Always looking on the bright side."

"I'm with Kie. Who needs land? We got everything we need right here," JJ says, exhaling a cloud of vape smoke.

"It is really peaceful out here," you agree with a smile.

John B strides over carrying a cooler and tosses beers to everyone. "Nothing but clear skies and open water ahead of us, ladies and germs," he declares, cracking open his can. "To the Pogues!"

They cheer and clink cans. you shyly takes a sip of the beer but immediately spits it out at the bitter taste.

Suddenly, John B hauls up a net bursting with flopping fish.

"Ew, poor fishes!" you cringe at the sight.

Pope glances up from his book to examine the catch. "Menhaden. A vital food source for marine predators. Their abundance indicates a very healthy ecosystem," he notes.

The group pauses to stare blankly at Pope for a moment. "Fascinating, Pope. Please, tell us more about the lives of bait fish," Kiara jokes, playfully mocking him.

"Who cares what they're called? More fish means more food. We're eating good tonight!" JJ laughs, patting Pope on the back. You frown, saddened by the fate of the fish.

"I feel bad for them," you say quietly.

"Survival of the fittest, baby," JJ jokes, grabbing a fish from the net and pretending to bite into it.

Kiara fakes a loud gag and you cringe more, "Eww, JJ! That's disrespectful and disgusting."

"Take it easy, Y/N. JJ's just playing," John B says with a laugh.

JJ spits the fish out, laughing.

John B cruises along the bustling commercial waterfront, passing by the aroma of frying fish snacks and steaming seafood joints. Outfitting stores displaying rods, reels, and nautical apparel line the docks. Evidence of storm damage is visible with broken pilings and scattered debris. As they approach Heyward’s Seafood, John B and JJ slow the boat, taking in the sight of Pope cleaning up the storm wreckage on the dock.

“Safety meeting. Attendance mandatory,” John B announces into his hand clasped like a walkie-talkie, imitating static sounds.

“I can’t. My Pops got me on lockdown,” Pope replies, holding a hose in one hand as he scrubs the dock, your dad and you approach behind him.

“Come on man,” JJ says making garbled static sounds. “Your dad’s a pussy. Over.”

“I heard that, you little bastard,” Heyward interjects gruffly, clutching a broom as he strides over.

“We need your son and daughter,” John B calls out across the water.

“Yeah, and island rules. Day after a hurricane’s a free day,” JJ asserts confidently with outstretched hands.

“Who the hell made that up?” Heyward counters sarcastically.

“Uh... the pentagon, I think. We have security clearance. I have a card,” JJ rambles unconvincingly.

“Y’all think I’m stupid,” Heyward declares skeptically, eyeing each of them.

“We’ll do it tomorrow. I promise.,” Pope pleads, gazing back at his father.

“Daddy, can I please go with them? I’ll help Pope finish tomorrow,” You ask timidly, hands clasped in front of you.

“Hell no. You doin’ it right now,” Heyward reprimands gruffly, glaring at both kids.

“Get in the boat,” John B whispers to Pope and you.

“Make a run for it,” JJ urges with a head nod toward the idling boat.

“If you get in that boat...,” Heyward threatens through gritted teeth.

Pope hesitates, then drops the hose and leaps into the boat and you scurried after him. “Go, go, go!”

“Bring your asses back up here!” Heyward bellows at the fleeing forms.

“I promise I’ll do it tomorrow, Dad!” Pope calls back apologetically.

“Sorry, Daddy!” you shout regretfully, waving back at him.

“When you get back you're gonna clean shrimp, clean fish,” Heyward grumbles after them.

“Love you Pops!” You and Pope proclaim affectionately in unison.

“Pope, you'll clean your dirty-ass room! And Y/N... You'll help your brother clean his room,” Heyward spits out irritably as the boat motors away.

“We’ll get them back in one piece. I promise!” John B assures.

“Bye, see you later!” you trill sweetly as the boat gains distance.

“And I don’t like your friends!” Heyward’s yell carries over the water after them.

Kiara stands on the splintered, weathered edge of the last dock, bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet. She's dressed for warmth in a faded t-shirt and cutoff shorts, a bikini peeking out from underneath. In her hands she grips a battered red cooler, condensation dripping down the sides. Stepping gingerly onto the rocking boat, she grasps JJ's outstretched hand to steady herself as the vessel bobs beneath her feet.

"Oh, top o' the mornin' to ya," JJ drawls, tipping an imaginary hat in an exaggerated accent.

Kiara gives an amused eye roll, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards. "Good morning," she replies.

John B flashes a bright, enthusiastic grin from the captain's chair. "Morning Kie!" he calls out.

At the front of the boat, Pope squinted against the glaring morning sunlight reflecting off the water's surface, his face scrunched in a slight wince. "Whatcha got there? Some juice boxes?" he asks hopefully, eyeing the cooler.

Kiara's eyes glint mischievously. "Oh you know, just some yogurts and carrot sticks," she responds, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

JJ leans in close, eyebrows raised expectantly. "How about my kinda juice box?"

Kiara nods knowingly, the hint of a smirk playing at her lips. "Yeah," she confirms.

With a dramatic flourish, she sets the cooler down on the worn wooden deck with a muted clinking of glass and ice. Throwing open the lid reveals a cache of icy Coronas gleaming in the sunlight. JJ's face lights up, and he eagerly cracks one open, foam fizzing as he takes a deep swig, and Pope shakes his head.

“Morning everyone!" you calls out brightly, your voice like a songbird over the lap of the waves.

Noticing the open beers, you places your hands on your hips in mock scolding, an exaggerated frown turning down the corners of your mouth. "JJ, it's a bit early for beer don't you think?" you chide, you tone light and teasing.

JJ just shrugs carelessly, his lips curled in an unconcerned grin. "It's 5 o'clock somewhere, Y/N," he replies before tipping back another swig.

With an enthusiastic roar, John B fires up the rumbling engine. The boat surges forward, cresting over small swells. Pope carefully steers from the captain's chair, gripping the wheel with easy confidence. Near the back, Kiara reclines on a towel, soaking in the warm sun. Her eyes are closed, a small content smile on her face. John B sits hunched over nearby, wholly focused on intricately tying a fishing fly, his brows furrowed in concentration.

At the front of the boat, JJ stands tall, arms outstretched. The wind whips through his shaggy hair as the boat slices through the brackish water. Behind him, you sit comfortably reading a book, absently tucking a windswept strand of hair behind your ear.

Glancing back mischievously, JJ motions to Pope, miming pouring beer into his mouth and letting the wind carry it in a makeshift beer bong.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, JJ calls out loudly over the thrum of the engine. "Hey Pope! Can you go a little faster?" he shouts eagerly, waving his arm to get Pope's attention.

John B shakes his head knowingly, not looking up from his fishing lure. "Here we go. I'm movin'. Doesn't work. We've tried this like 6,000 times," he warns in a weary, exasperated tone.

JJ ignores him, gesturing more insistently to Pope. "Faster! I got this. It's gonna work this time!" he yells, determination gleaming in his eyes.

Glancing up from your book, your brows knit together anxiously. "Be careful JJ!" you call out, her voice tinged with concern.

Obliging, Pope pushes forward on the throttle. The engine roars as the boat surges ahead, streaking across the shimmering water. The shoreline blurs by in a mix of wind-whipped sawgrass and scraggly trees. Poised triumphantly, JJ holds out the beer can, finally ready for his coveted beer bong.

Without warning, the boat lurches violently as the engine gives a protesting sputter. The Pogues are tossed about, slamming harshly onto the hard wooden deck as the boat screeches to a sudden stop. Cans and melting ice from the overturned cooler slide across the floor.

John B pulls himself up with a pained groan, gingerly rubbing his lower back. "You alright JJ?" he calls out worriedly toward the front of the now-idle boat.

Nearby, You wince as you push yourself up, tenderly cradling her elbow. "Oh my gosh, JJ are you okay??" you asks anxiously.

John B moves carefully around the deck checking on Kiara and Pope before making his way to the prow. There he finds JJ spluttering indignantly on his back in the water, groaning in pain.

Dramatically throwing an arm across his eyes, JJ moans, "I think my heels touched the back of my head."

Scanning the deck, John B calls out, "You okay, Kie and Y/N?"

Gingerly rotating your arm, you give him a pained but reassuring smile. "I'm okay, just a little shaken up," you reply.

At the stern, Pope examines the engine now tilted at an odd, broken angle. His eyes scan the water behind the boat intently.

Turning to John B with a grimace, he shrugs apologetically. "Sandbar. The channel’s changed."

Treading water below, JJ rolls his eyes in exasperation. "No shit!" he calls out sarcastically. Triumphantly holding up a bobbing beer can, he grins. "Hey, I saved the beer though!"

John B just shakes his head, a wry smile touching his lips. "Congrats, JJ," he replies sardonically.

Studying the unfamiliar shoreline, John B strokes his chin thoughtfully. "The storm surge must have been huge back here to shift the sandbars so much," he remarks contemplatively.

As JJ paddles back to the boat, a dark shadow deep below the water's surface catches their attention. The Pogues gather along the side, peering intently into the murky depths.

Pope's eyes widen in surprise. "Guys... I think there's a sunken boat down there," he says in an awed hush.

Leaning farther over the side, Squinting into the gloom, you can just make out the vague outline of a submerged vessel. "Oh wow, you're right!" you exclaim excitedly. you turns to the others, eyes bright with urgency. "I wonder if anyone's down there. We should check it out and see if they need help!"

The sun glittered brightly off the gentle waves as the five friends leapt with excitement from the boat's prow. They plunged into the cool, salty water, bubbles swirling around them. John B was the first to reach the sunken boat below, its once shiny hull now covered in algae and rust. He swam along the length of it, taking in the peeling paint and tattered ropes hanging limply from the railings. Running low on air, he reluctantly turned and kicked upwards.

The others followed, surfacing and treading water. JJ swept his wet blond hair back, treading water beside you. You blinked saltwater from your eyes, turning worriedly to see that John B had surfaced safely.

"You guys saw that?" JJ called out eagerly, his voice echoing across the empty blue expanse.

Pope nodded, water dripping from his hair. "Yeah," he confirmed, intrigued.

John B wiped his face, eyes wide. "What the..." he murmured in awe.

JJ gestures wildly, the water churning around him. "That's a Grady White! A primo rig!" he exclaimed. "A new one costs 500 Gs, easy."

John B helped pull Kiara back up into the boat, He then hoisted himself up after her, water pooling around their feet.

"I saw that boat yesterday when I was surfing the surge," John B remarked. "It must've hit the jetty."

Kiara gave him an incredulous look. "You surfed the surge?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," John B confirmed casually.

In the water, JJ shot John B an approving grin. "That's my boy. Pogue style," he praised.

You frowned, brows furrowing with concern. "Surfing during a storm surge seems really dangerous," you fretted.

John B looked a bit sheepish but proud of his daring stunt.

Kiara crossed her arms, disappointment evident on her face. "What the heck?" she admonished.

Pope hoisted himself up into the boat, his clothes heavy and dripping. "Do we know whose boat it is?" he asked curiously.

John B shook his head. "No. But we're about to find out." He rummaged around and grabbed the anchor, its metal surface covered in barnacles.

JJ and you climbed back into the gently rocking boat, JJ eyed the water depth skeptically. "Dude, it's too deep," he warned.

"Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ," John B scoffed jokingly.

JJ held up his hands in mock defense. "No way I’m resuscitating you. I just want to make that clear up front," he quipped.

John B strode confidently to the prow, anchor in hand. With a grunt, he heaved it up and stepped unsteadily onto the railing.

Kiara reached out in concern. "John B..." she cautioned worriedly.

John B laughed lightheartedly. "What?"

"Diver down, fool!" Pope called out, saluting playfully.

John B saluted back cockily. "Diver down!" he confirmed.

Suddenly, JJ gave John B a forceful shove and he tumbled backwards into the shimmering water with a splash, still clinging tightly to the anchor.

"JJ, why did you do that?" You cried, clasping your hands to your mouth in dismay.

Pope peered down anxiously into the shimmering blue water, squinting against the glare of sunlight. "Should we go get him?" he asked, brows knitted with concern about how long John B had been submerged.

Just then John B burst through the surface with a huge gasp, water streaming down his face as he caught his breath. The Pogues crowded at the back of the boat, staring down at him in relief.

Kiara let out a tense sigh, shoulders sagging. "Oh my god, that took forever!" she exclaimed, her voice edged with leftover fear.

"Any dead bodies down there?" Pope called out bluntly.

You made a face of disgust, nose wrinkling. "Eww, Pope!" you admonished, smacking his arm.

Treading water, John B just shook his head wordlessly, still breathing hard.

JJ leaned over the railing impatiently, sun-bleached hair falling into his eyes. "Any loot worth taking?" he prodded greedily.

John B held up the motel key triumphantly, metal glinting in the sunlight. "I found this motel key," he announced with a grin.

Grabbing the railing, he hoisted himself back up into the boat with a grunt, pools of water gathering at his feet.

Pope looked thoroughly unimpressed. "A key," he deadpanned, unconvinced of its value.

JJ threw his hands up in irritation, the boat rocking beneath them. "Great! We risked our lives for a crappy motel key," he griped sarcastically.

"Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard. Maybe we'll get a finder's fee as a reward!" Kiara suggested, always trying to do the right thing.

You nodded enthusiastically, hair swinging. "Oh that's a great idea, Kie!" you agreed supportively.

JJ scoffed loudly and dramatically rolled his eyes. "Claim the finder’s fee and not work all summer? Thanks, Agatha, ya batch," he grumbled in a high mocking voice.

Pope started up the boat's rumbling engine while John B labored to pull up the heavy, dripping anchor. The boat lurched into motion and they motored away from the site, water churning in their wake.

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its-all-or-nothing94 · 3 months

Text

Like a Hurricane // JJ Maybank x OC - Part 1

Summary: Sky is a Pogue through and through. No one would doubt that. But what will happen if her Dad just disappears, and after nine months, she and her brother face the consequences with DCS? Sky tries to manage her way through a literal storm but also the storm of secrets, confessions, friendships, and... summer.

Masterlist

Warnings: language, use of alcohol, talk of death

Pairing: JJ Maybank x OC

A/N: And I'm back with an all-new Outer Banks story :) Yay! I got so invested in that show that I couldn't just binge-watch the whole show, as I didn't want it to end. And yes this is more a "reimagine". Don't @ me ;)

Summer.

Finally. We've waited a long time for the summer break to finally arrive. No more school, no more responsibilities. Not that my brother would care about that ever since our father went missing.

But hey, we're the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time all the time.

On the terrace of their new hangout, the Pogues lounged, beers in hand, basking in the golden-orange hue of the setting sun. The vibe was effortlessly relaxed and warm.

"That's what, a three-story fall to the deck?", Pope questioned, eyeing the boy teetering on the rooftop, beer casually in tow. "I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival."

The blonde girl with the side braid perched on a scaffold nearby, beer can in hand, gazed upward nonchalantly. "So?"

John B paused, wetting his finger and testing the wind. "Should I do it?"

"Yeah, jump", urged the blonde boy with the cap, sitting next to Sky.

Pope, brandishing a drill playfully, aimed it at John B. "I'll shoot you on the way down."

"You'll shoot me?"

"Yep", he replied with a shrug.

John B mimed a gun with his hand, pointing at Pope. "Pow!"

"They're gonna have Japanese toilets with towel warmers," Kiara announced, stepping out. She was striking, her light-dark skin and wavy hair catching the last light of day.

Beside Sky, JJ chuckled. "Of course. Why wouldn't they?"

Sky shared a knowing look with JJ, a sly grin on her lips. "You know what's next," she whispered, sparking a grin from JJ.

"This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtles, I guess?" Kiara lamented.

"Poor turtles", Sky responded with playful sympathy, standing up.

JJ shrugged. "I can't have cold towels."

Kiara ignored him and looked up at John B. "Can you please not kill yourself?"

Sky jumped down from her perch, finishing her beer with a swift gulp. "I mean, one less Routledge, who gives a shit?" she said sarcastically. "Oh wait, me! I would give a shit. Get the fuck down, JB!"

"Don't spill that beer. I'm not giving you another one", JJ warned his best friend.

Unfazed, John B balanced precariously, but a sudden gust of wind caught him off guard. His beer plummeted to the terrace below.

"Of course you did," JJ grumbled.

Kiara turned away, shaking her head. "Smooth..."

The blonde girl sighed and rubbed her face. "Dumbass..."

Pope, peering over the balcony, spotted a security guard emerging from a parked car.

"Hey!"

"Hey, uh, security's here," he informed the others. "Let's wrap it up."

JJ looked around, glanced quickly at Sky, and smiled. "Boys are early today."

"Humpty Dumpty, let's roll," Sky said smugly.

"Yeah," John B agreed, walking down to the others.

"Let's go, boys," Kiara smiled, and they started to hurry.

JJ, teasing as always, exclaimed: "Gary, is that you?"

"Get down", Sky said to her brother.

JJ, still in light spirits, laughs as he sees that it is indeed Gary. "Gary, good to see you, man!"

They made their way downstairs, JJ's leaking behind. "JJ!" Sky laughed and pulled him along.

With Gary's backup close behind, the Pogues had to swiftly escape, leaping fences and dodging the guards. John B had the Twinkie, his van, revved up and ready. They piled in, laughter and adrenaline mixing, as one guard gave futile chase.

"Come on guys, you're giving him a heart attack," Kiara laughs, and Sky nudges her.

In high spirits, they sped off into the summer night, the promise of adventure ahead.

The Outer Banks, Paradise on Earth.

It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island.

The nice side of the Island is called Figure Eight. It's the rich side of the island. Home of the Kooks. So, guess where we don't live.

And then, there is the south side or the Cut. Home of the working class who make a living busing tables, washing yachts, running charters.

The natural habitat of... drumroll please... the Pogues. That's us. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish. Lowest member of the food chain.

Okay. So, the downside of Pogue life is we're ignored and neglected. But the upside of Pogue life? We're ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want.

But who are we?

There's JJ. My brother's best friend since the third grade. Meaning that I couldn't get rid of him even if I wanted to.

He's about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water. Best male surfer I know. But don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't hear the end of it. Mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat, for sure. And then there's his secret – a massive, undeclared crush on me. Of course, I'm totally oblivious to it. No one knows about it. Well, that's the story, as my brother would probably kill him anyway.

Then there's Kiara, or Kie, as we call her. My best friend and the only other female Pogue apart from me. When not saving turtles or, listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo (which, for the record, I totally didn't convince her to get – okay, maybe I did), she hangs out with us. We are all not really sure why, though.

So, she's a rich kid, actually. Foot in both worlds. Her family owns The Wreck, my workplace, this Outer Banks institution. Total cash cow with the tourists. We are not really sure how her parents feel about us, well at least about the boys, as I think they kind of like me.

All of the guys had a thing for her at least once.

And then there's Pope. The brains of the operation... finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And probably the smartest person I know. He's a little bit of a weirdo, to be honest. His father's this legendary character, Heyward. Anything you wanted on the island, Heyward could get for you.

Now, I'm not sure Heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. He was a Pogue, just like the rest of us.

There's John B – my twin brother. At first glance, no one would peg us as twins. John B, with his dark hair and deep-set eyes, starkly contrasts my light blonde hair and grey eyes. But beneath these superficial differences lies an unbreakable bond. John B and I have always been incredibly close, sharing a connection that goes beyond mere appearances. He's the undisputed leader of the Pogues, a role he takes as naturally as breathing. In his leadership, there's a sense of adventure, a hint of recklessness, and a deep-seated loyalty that binds all of us together. His presence is both a guiding force and a constant reminder of the unspoken understanding and support we share as twins.

And then there's me, Skylar Artemis Routledge. Or Sky. Talk about a mouthful of a name, right? Thanks a bunch, Mom and Dad. As I mentioned earlier, I'm the younger twin sister of John B – younger by a mere four minutes, a fact he never lets me forget, flaunting it like a badge of honor. My world? It revolves around the thrill of surfing, the freedom of skating, and, of course, my fiercely loyal band of friends. Oh, and about the infamous "no Pogue on Pogue macking" rule? Guilty as charged. That's on me. Or, more accurately, it's because of my overprotective brother, who's made it crystal clear: nobody messes with his "baby sister." It's a title I wear with a mix of annoyance and affection, but hey, that's family for you.

John B and I call an old fish shack on the marsh our home, fondly nicknamed "The Chateau" by our dad. That's how he always referred to it, with a hint of irony and a lot of love. Our dad... he vanished nine months ago while chasing the legend of a shipwreck. In this day and age, who just disappears at sea?

I miss him every single day. John B does, too, the weight of his absence hanging silently between us.

Our mom is a different story. She left when we were just three, a distant memory more than a mother. Last I heard of her, she was in Colorado, or at least I think it was Colorado.

But we've still got Uncle T. Ever since Dad's disappearance, he's been our so-called legal guardian. Right now, he's off in Mississippi, busy building houses. That leaves just John B and me free to roam with our friends, masters of our own little world.

Three months after Dad was declared missing, they wanted to pronounce him dead officially. But John B wouldn’t sign the papers. He's adamant that there's no giving up until he sees a body. As for me... well, as three months stretched into six, my hope quietly faded away. I hate to admit it, but I've stopped expecting a miracle.

John B and Sky found themselves seated in the stark, clinical setting of the sheriff's office, facing a social worker named Cheryl. Her gaze fixed on the twins, who wore expressions of casual, almost practiced boredom.

"John, Skylar, it's come to our attention that you're unemancipated minors living on your own," Cheryl began. At this, John B and Sky shared a quick, knowing glance before bursting into laughter.

"No... Not really," Sky drawled, slouching further in her chair, her face etched with defiance.

"No," echoed John B, shaking his head.

Cheryl sighed deeply, intertwining her fingers with a look of forced patience. "I need honesty to help you two. That's what we're aiming for, right?" she asked, her eyes shifting between the twins.

"We're being honest," John B insisted as Sky puckered her lips in a mock pout.

All too aware of the teenagers' evasiveness, Cheryl let out another sigh. "Okay, then, when's the last time either of you spoke to your uncle?"

The twins exchanged another glance, their silent communication a testament to their unspoken bond.

Sky glanced at her empty wrist. "Uh... 34 minutes ago, to be exact."

"And when did you last see him?"

This time, John B chimed in. "Two hours and, uh... 43 minutes ago?"

Sky couldn't help but chuckle, biting her lip – a habitual gesture.

"John... Skylar, we're planning to visit tomorrow to speak with your uncle. If he's not there, we'll have to proceed with foster care arrangements," Cheryl explained, her tone a mix of sternness and concern. Sky scoffed at the notion. "I assure you, our goal is to find you both a safe, loving home."

They actually thought we were gonna be happy to hear that. Bullshit! I knew that they would separate us, and, almost as bad, they would get us to the mainland.

And that's where this story starts. Our dad missing, our uncle MIA, and the bride of Frankenstein threatening us with foster care.

That evening, the Pogues sat by a fire at the beach. They had fun, but one was missing. John B sat a bit further away and gave in to his thoughts. Sky sat next to JJ, who causally had his arm around her shoulders.

"What's up with him?" JJ asked, and Pope and Kie were looking at Sky.

She sighed and shrugged. "It's his way of coping, I guess... They-" She gulped and sighed again. "They want to swing by tomorrow, talk to Uncle T."

JJ pulled Sky closer. "Come on, they can't just drag your asses away. You're Pogues. You belong here."

Sky's smile faded a little. "Tell that to them."

JJ's smile faded as well, as he looked down at the blonde next to him. Kiara couldn't help but smile at the sight. She realized, for some time now, how much JJ liked Sky. Not just liked, but liked.

"Have you heard about the hurricane? It's heading right towards us", Pope then said and showed them the news channel on his phone, and Sky looked at him, sighing.

She wiggled out of JJ's arm and stood up. "Well, at least one good thing comes of it." She took out her phone, and the others looked at her, confused.

"DCS, how can I help you?" Sky tipped her finger to her lips. "Yeah, uh... I think we have to reschedule."

As Sky was at home later, thunder was crackling, and the wind took off. JJ sat on her porch on his phone. Sky just looked out to the ocean, wondering where her brother was.

"Hey yo, you know where John B is?" she turned and looked at JJ, who looked up at her.

He shrugged. "Nah, but my guess..." He pointed his head towards the ocean.

"He's really going for it, huh?" Sky muttered under her breath, turning back to the sea again.

JJ stood up and put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Barb. He's gonna be fine."

Barb. That was another thing. JJ called me that for as long as I can remember. Well, at first, it was Surfer Barbie, what many people call me, to be honest, so he just called me Barbie, and that morphed into Barb. He's the only one who calls me that.

Sky sighed once again and turned, walking into the Chateau. JJ looked after her with a questioning look, before he sat back down on the porch.

Shortly after, Sky walked out again with a Whiskey and two glasses. "Might as well..."

She poured some of the brown liqueur into the glasses and slid one over to JJ. He grinned at Sky and took it into his hand.

"The good glasses? What's the occasion?" he asked and winked at her.

"Don't know... When Aggie hits, they might break anyway..."

They clinked the glasses together and smiled at each other before taking a sip.

Forty-five minutes later, the almost full bottle was empty, and Sky sat on the porch bench with JJ, her legs over his lap. JJ has his hands on her shins and caresses them absently.

The conversation, deep and meandering under the influence of alcohol, takes a turn as JJ gazes into the distance, where lightning from the approaching Hurricane Agatha flickers ominously. "Barb," he slurs slightly, "have you ever thought about, you know, dating one of us Pogues? Like, hypothetically speaking?"

Sky, her head leaning back, a relaxed smile on her face, responds with a teasing lilt, "JJ, you know the rule. No Pogue on Pogue macking. John B made it pretty clear."

But JJ is undeterred, his eyes intense. "That rule is bullshit. It's just something John B came up with, so we don't mack on you. But seriously, what if? What if the rule didn't exist?"

Sky turns to face him, her expression softening in the dim porch light. "What if, huh?" she muses, the alcohol making her thoughts swim. "I don't know, JJ. It's a weird thought. We're like... family, you know?"

JJ nods, serious. "Yeah, I know. But sometimes, I think, 'What if.' What if the person you're supposed to be with is right in front of you, and you're just too blind to see it because of some stupid rule?"

The confession, raw and honest, hangs between them. Sky looks into JJ's eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity within. "JJ, are you asking if I've ever thought about you that way?" she whispers, the storm's energy charging the air around them.

JJ meets her gaze, his voice earnest. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm tired of pretending that I haven't thought about it. About you."

The intensity of the moment builds, mirroring the storm's crescendo. But then, Sky, sensing the conversation veering into serious territory that she's not ready to navigate, especially not under the influence, lets out a laugh. It's light, an attempt to diffuse the tension.

"JJ, you're drunk, and your emotions are all over the place. It's just the whiskey talking."

JJ's gaze lingers on her, a mix of longing and frustration in his eyes. "Maybe," he concedes, "but what if it's not? What if—"

Skye cuts him off with a light laugh, leaning in to bump her shoulder against his. "Oi, Bandolero, trust me. You're going to wake up tomorrow and realize you were just feeling extra sentimental because of the storm and the whiskey."

A little later, as the conversation drifted and the storm raged outside, Sky and JJ succumbed to sleep on the porch. Suddenly, Sky felt a persistent poking at her cheek.

Blearily opening her eyes, she was jolted awake by the looming figure before her, illuminated starkly by a flash of lightning.

"Jesus fucking Christ, are you out of your damn mind?" Sky exclaimed, her words directed at her drenched brother, who stood before her, surfboard in tow.

The commotion roused JJ, who blinked groggily at John B.

"That's your concern? What the hell are you guys still doing out here? Get inside!" John B barked, hauling Sky to her feet.

Sky, unimpressed, retorted as she was ushered inside, "Look who's talking, big bro. Did you seriously try to surf in this mess?" Behind them, JJ, barely awake, stumbled into the living room, collapsing onto the pull-out couch.

John B paused, eyeing his best friend's form. "What happened to him?" he asked, amusement lacing his voice.

Sky, smirking, replied as she headed to her room, "Dad's Highland Park. Turns out our Bandolero over there isn't as seasoned a drinker as he likes to claim." She paused at her door, glancing back at John B. "Good night."

"Night," he responded, his smile lingering as he made his way to his own room.

#Outer Banks #JJ x OC #JJ Maybank #John B Routledge #Outer Banks x OC #Outer Banks x Reader #OBX #OBX x reader #JJ Maybank x reader #Well I really really love the character JJ Maybank

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isabelle-bee · 1 year

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bound to falling in love || jj maybank

jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

summary: after a hurricane, you and your friends find a sunken wreck in the marsh

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, mentions of a dysfunctional family (spoiler alert. it's yours),

a/n: thank you for reading my first part of this story!! i hope you enjoy! lowercases are intentional!

key: (y/n/n) = your nickname, (y/n) = your name, (y/u/n) = your uncle's name, (y/c/n) = your cousin's name

bound to falling in love masterlist

⭒⭒⭒

"we're the pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time, all the time."

you watch as john b stands on the roof, staring out into the ocean. he takes a sip of beer, sticking one foot in the air and spreading his arms like wings to better steady himself.

"that's what, a three-story fall from the deck?" pope asks. he squints from the sunlight in his eyes, staring up at john b intensely. "i give you about a one-in-three chance survival."

john b hums in thought, sticking his pointer finger into his mouth before lifting it into the air, feeling the wind blow against the digit. "should i do it?"

"yeah, you should jump!" you yell. the summer breeze blows your hair away from your face and you fiddle with bracelets around your wrist. you're sitting next to jj, desperately trying to ignore the heat of his thigh brushing against your own.

"i'll shoot you on the way down." pope raises the nail gun in his hand and john b raises his eyebrows. he makes a finger gun, pointing it at pope's head.

"you gonna shoot me?"

"they're gonna have japenese toilets with towel warmers," kiara says in disbelief as she walks out of the home. her dark brown locks falls down her back in waves, and her skin seems to glow from the setting sun. "this used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtles, i guess?"

"i care about the turtles, kie." you reach a hand over the railing, faking a pout towards your best friend. kiara smiles, interlocking your fingers together.

"i can't have cold towels," jj teases and you smack him in the stomach, scoffing when he lets out a dramatic oof.

kiara turns her attention to the boy dangerously close to breaking his neck. "can you please not kill yourself?"

"don't spill that beer," jj warns, "'cause i'm not giving you another one." as if on cue, john b loses his balance and drops the piece of aluminum. he lets out a small curse as the can drops to the floor, it's contents spilling everywhere.

"of course you did!" jj laughs.

"smooth," kiara mutters to you, while you only giggle as john b groans towards his lost drink in despair.

"a-plus," pope chuckles. he peeks around the corner when he hears a loud "hey!". pope slams his hand down onto the wooden railing, sending nervous looks towards the rest of you. "hey, uh, security's here, let's wrap it up."

"boys are early today," john b states, sliding down the roof, landing next to you. he ruffles your hair and you smack his hand. you grin, sliding underneath the railing and jumping down next to kiara. jj calls out something inaudible as he climbs down the balcony floor. you run into the house, dodging past paint cans and used equiptment.

you run down a flight of stairs, four of you going one way while jj runs in the other. he skids to the stop, sharply turning around to miss the hands of an officer.

"not much of a hugger, man!" jj laughs when another guard tries to get a hold of him. "go pope!" he yells. "go, go, go, go, go, go!"

jj follows after pope towards the large fence at the end of the yard. they jump over, and pope groans as he lands face first into the ground. jj slaps his back, "get up, pope! fatso's coming!"

the two of them run over to the honking van, jumping inside. they laugh as one of the guards starts chasing after the racing car.

"check out gary, gunnin' for a raise!" pope smiles. jj reaches a hand out of the open door, holding out a beer towards the running man.

"enough," you say, giggles still spilling from your lips.

"you're gonna give him a heart attack." kiara's comment only makes you laugh harder.

"you're so close! you can do it! there you go!" jj throws the can towards the older man, groaning when it hits him in the head. "they don't pay you enough, bro."

you grab onto the blonde's arm, pulling his body back into the car. "jj, stop," you scold, but amusement still lingers on your voice.

"oh come one. that sort of initiative is just begging to be punished."

⭒⭒⭒

"the outer banks, paradise on earth. it's the kinda place where you either have two jobs, or two houses. two tribes, one island. all right, so this is figure eight, the rich side of the island. home of the kooks, so guess where we don't live."

"and this is the south side, or 'the cut'. home of the working class, who make a living off of busing tables, washing yachts, running charters. the natural habitat of, drumroll please... the pogues. that's us. pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish. lowest member of the food chain. okay, so the downside of pogue life is that we're ignored and neglected. the upside of pogue life? we're ignored and neglected. which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want."

adjusting his hat, jj leans back against his seat. one hand on the steering wheel, he looks out the window as he drives the hms pogue.

"that's jj, my best friend since the third grade. he's about as local as they come. latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who make their living off the water. best surfer i know, just don't tell him i said that. mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat."

you yelp as a pair of arms slither around your waist. they lift you in the air and before you can say or do anything, you're thrown off the boat and into the ocean. you swim to the surface, glaring at your assailant.

"jj!" you yell. he cackles as you swim back, reaching out a hand that he gladly takes, despite the fact that he's still letting out small huffs of laughter. you feel yourself blushing when he interlocks your fingers, and you internally curse yourself for the fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"that's (y/n). she's been jj's other best friend since they were twelve. even though we're not related, she's like my little sister. she's the mom of our group, keeping us in check and out of trouble. although, she's been acting different lately. it might be because her drunk of a mother kicked her out and now she's living with her kook uncle. or it might be because she's obviously in love with a special someone. but, i'm technically not supposed to know that."

staring at the flames of the open fire pit, kiara quickly shoves john b away when he traps her in a hug, but it looks more like a headlock. "get off me. don't even get me started on microplastic. have you even heard about that island? that little island of just-"

"and that's kiara, or kie, as we call her. and when she's not saving turtles, or listening to marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs out with the rest of us. i'm not really sure why though. so, she's a rich kid, actually. foot in both worlds. her family owns the wreck, this outer banks institution. total cash cow with the tourists. you know, i'm not really sure how her parents feel about us. i guess we all sorta have a thing for her."

watching his friends dance on the boat, pope leans back with his hands behind his head. he laughs as kiara spins you around, and you smack jj's hands away when he attempts to join in.

"and that's pope, the brains of the operation. finalist for the lucas t. vanderhorst merit scholarship. and the smartest person i know. a bit of a weirdo. alright, so his father's this legendary character, heyward. anything you wanted on the island, heyward could get it for you. now, i'm not sure what heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. he was a pogue, just like the rest of us."

"so, that's my crew. and that's me, john booker routledge. and this is where i live."

flushing the toilet, john b exits the bathroom. he peeks inside the room beside him when he hears whispering. jj looks away from the touron he's with, immediately grabbing an empty beer can and throwing it at his best friend. "dude, come on, man! get outta here!"

slamming the door, john b violently shuddered. he walked down the hallway, spotting you and kiara on the pull out couch. you're laying on your back, book in your hands. kiara rests her head on your stomach, scrolling through her phone and occasionally tilting it towards you while giggling.

"morning, kie, morning, (y/n/n)." john b raises a hand to the two of you in greeting.

kiara raises a peace sign, mumbling "morning", while you only hum in response. john b grabs a framed photo off of the table littered with beer bottles and hung it on the wall.

"an old fish shack on the marsh. the chateau, as my dad used to call it. that's dad. he disappeared at sea nine months ago, looking for a shipwreck. who disappears at sea these days? i miss him. and then there's mom. she split when i was three. last i heard she was in colorado. i think it was colorado."

"that's uncle t. since dad vanished, he's supposedly my legal guardian. at the moment, he's in mississippi, building houses... which means it's just me right now, hangin' with my friends. three months after my dad was missing, he was officially presumed dead. i refused to sign the papers. until i see a body, i'm not giving up."

⭒⭒⭒

walking into the kitchen, you nearly scream when you find your uncle sitting on the island. he sips from his mug, pen in his other hand as he stares down at a stack of papers. his head shoots up at the sound of you walking across the floor.

startled at his sudden appearance, you rest a hand on your rapid heart. "uncle (y/u/n), i didn't know you were home. i thought you were gonna be at the office today."

you feel his eyes following you as you open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. "where were you last night?" he asks. "you didn't text or call to tell me where you were, and i was worried."

"i was at john b's."

"who else was there?"

"just my friends," you say. "pope, kiara, jj. you know, the usual."

your uncle spins in his seat, settling his hands onto his knees. "look, i don't mind you hanging out with your friends. i want you to go out, to have fun, not be a hermit like (y/c/n) was-"

there was a loud yelp from the living room, presumably from said cousin on the couch watching basketball.

"-but there are some rules in this house, and i'd appreciate it if you'd follow them," your uncle finished.

you stared at him from over the rim of your bottle. "i didn't mean to worry you," you state. "i just forgot to call, i'm sorry."

"no, there's no need to apologize. just next time, call." your uncle smiled, before turning back to the stack of papers in front of him. you stay rooted to your spot. you were expecting some form of punishment, considering your mother would chastise you over every little thing, but nothing came.

when your uncle didn't say anything for the next few minutes, you slowly turned around and headed towards the front door. you spotted your cousin laying on the couch, head resting against the arm rest and a bag of cheetos on his stomach.

quickly slipping on your shoes, you run out the door and towards the boating dock behind your uncle's house. you immediately spot the hms pogue, already occupied by jj, pope, and john b.

"sup, loser," jj says, reaching a hand out towards you. you take it, and the blonde places his other hand on your back to further aid you onto the boat. you smack his hands away, ignoring the way your stomach flips at his warm touch. jj retracts his hands, rolling his eyes at john b when he smirks at the pink dusting on jj's cheekbones.

"sup, blondie." jj pinches the skin of your waist at the nickname, and you elbow him in the stomach in return. you step away from your best friend, settling down next to pope and crossing your legs in front of you. the boat starts moving again, and you tilt your head to the sky.

⭒⭒⭒

"hello there, princess." you beam at kiara as she walks down the deck while she grins at you in response.

"o, top o' the morning to ya." your eyebrows furrow at the attempted irish accent jj pulled, but he only shrugs at you.

"whatcha got?" pope asks, referring to the cooler kiara holds in one of her hands. "you got some juice boxes?"

"you know, just some yogurt and some carrot sticks." kiara grabs your hand, jumping into the boat. she sits next to you, moving to rest her head on your shoulder.

"what about my kind of juice boxes?" jj asks, scooting over to create more room for the two of you. his lips stretch into a small smile at kiara's small "yeah".

⭒⭒⭒

soon, the five of you had opened a beer, laughing when jj suddenly says, "lemme show you a party trick. pope, can you go a little faster?"

"oh god, here we go, i'm movin'." john b walks backwards, standing behind pope as he watches jj stand at the edge.

"i got this! it's gonna work!" jj says, confidentely.

you sigh, "jj, you've tried this a thousand times and it fails every time." you move to the side, avoiding the beer that flies out of jj's mouth. kiara laughs, but soon complains about it getting in her hair like the others. you reach up to grab onto jj's unoccupied wrist to tug him down, but the boat suddenly jerks to a harsh stop. jj flips forward, falling into the water with a large splash. you lurch forward, harshly slamming into the edge of the boat, immediately groaning at the aching pain flaring in your muscles.

"jesus, pope!" kiara scolds.

"you okay, j?" you ask, seeing him resurface from the water.

"i think my heels touched the back of my head," he chokes out, panting with his eyes closed.

"kie, you alright?" john b questions, rubbing his forehead.

"i'm fine," kiara replies before turning to her best friend. she touches your back softly, "you okay, (y/n)?"

"pope what did you do?" jj demands.

"sandbar. the channel changed."

"no shit." jj starts swimming back to the boat, eyes flicking up to pope when he stands at the edge. pope peers into the water, brows furrowing as he stares.

"guys... i think there's a boat down there."

"shut up," john b says.

"no way," kiara adds.

pope points to the water. "no, no, guys. i'm serious. there's a boat down there."

looking closer, you can faintly see the outline of a boat. john b tugs off his shirt. you slide down your jean shorts, leaving you in your swim suit. kiara follows your lead as you jump into the water.

sure as shit, there's a boat - a nice one, at that - at the bottom of the marsh's floor. you want to get closer, have better access to inspect it, but oxygen soon becomes an issue. rising for air, hysteria meets your ears as you gulp down breaths.

"you guys saw that?" jj gasps.

"yeah, i did," kiara laughs.

jj starts swimming towards the boat, "that's a grady white. a new one of those is, like, 500 g's, easy." jj hauls himself up, offering a hand towards you.

"that's the boat i saw when i surfed the surge," john b states and kiara flickers her eyes towards him. you twist water out of your hair, mildly paying attention.

"you surfed the surge?" kiara clarifies, her voice rough. jj laughs, reciting a handshake with the curly haired boy.

"that's my boy, pogue style!"

"do we know whose boat that is?" pope asks, chest heaving.

"no, but we're about to find out." john b grabs the anchor, saluting his friends before jj shoves at his chest, pushing john b down into the water. john b holds his breath, allowing the weight of the anchor to pull him down.

the rest wait in anticipation, and just when you think jj's about to jump in and drag john b back to the boat, he rises to the surface.

"oh my god, that took forever!" kiara exclaims.

"any dead bodies?" pope asks.

"looting potential?" jj questions.

"no." john b raises his hand to show his discovery, presenting a small, yellow key. "i found this motel key."

your excited smile dropped. "a key?"

"yes, a key, (y/n)."

"great, we salvaged a motel key." jj pulls the anchor out and places it back into the boat.

"guys maybe we should report the wreck to the coastguard," kiara suggests. "maybe we'll get a finders fee."

"yeah and not work all summer," you hum.

"thanks agatha, ya batch."

#outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx #obx x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #pope heyward #john b routledge

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