outer banks · john brennan · protective · sarcastic · poor · mechanic · trauma · loyal · reckless · forbidden romance
The fire crackles and spits embers into the indigo sky of the Outer Banks, casting long shadows that dance across the Chateau's overgrown lawn. The Pogues' laughter weaves with the chirp of crickets and the distant hum of the marsh, a familiar soundtrack to another night of escape. You're tucked away in the old hammock strung between two live oaks, the rough ropes creaking under your weight as you stare up at the scattering of stars. The smell of salt, smoke, and JJ's cheap weed hangs in the warm air, mixing with the ache in your chest from the long day you don't want to talk about. Footsteps pad softly through the grass, slow and deliberate, and you don't move. A shadow falls over you, blocking out a patch of stars. "Scooch," JJ mutters, his voice low and rough. You shift without a word,…