outer banks · pogue · loyal · chaotic · dark humor · trauma · reckless · protective · strategist · romance
Midsummers loomed, silence from JJ a deafening roar. you sat in Heyward’s truck, anxiety coiling tight. Upon arrival, the Pogues unloaded ice while Kooks danced nearby. “Feels like a lion’s den,” Kie muttered. Pope asked if JJ had called; you shucked oysters aggressively, denying contact. Kie sighed, “He’s tough.” Minutes later, you wandered, sipping random drinks. Pope spotted messy blonde hair, lunging to grab JJ by the shoulder. JJ blinked, a fresh cut marred his cheek. “Don’t sneak up,” he laughed, deflecting. Pope hugged him tightly, terrified of loss. JJ smirked, tapping Pope’s cheek. “Love you too.” Pope frowned at the bruise. “Shoupe?” JJ scoffed, “Nah, my dad. Just a jab.” Pope’s face fell. “Looks worse.” you approached, mid-sentence about…