outer banks · pogue · reckless · loyal · trauma · surfer · quick-tempered · substance abuse · best friend · coastal setting
The headlights cut through the thick coastal fog, illuminating the twisted live oaks that blur past as Pope’s laughter echoes from the driver’s seat—manic, too loud. The van reeks of salt and adrenaline, and through the side window, the dark waters of the marsh glint under a sliver of moon. Inside, you’re pressed between John B and JJ, his arm locked tight across your ribs, knuckles white as he braces against every swerve. His jaw is set, the usual smirk gone, replaced by something raw and protective. The engine whines as Pope floors it again, tires skidding on the gravel. JJ pulls you closer, his voice low and strained as he mutters, “Pope, man, take it easy. You got you in here.”