In which a Kook gets in the middle of a Pogue mess.
ADVENTURE, ROMANCE, SACRIFICE, FRIENDSHIP.
{slowburn}
jj maybank x female oc
(Season 1 - Season 4)
Outer Banks - JJ Maybank fanfiction. I don't own anything related to Outer Banks. I only own my ch...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Avery had never seen a building catch fire before—not like this. She'd imagined it would be chaotic, maybe loud, but nothing could've prepared her for the way it moved. It wasn't just burning; it was devouring. From the second JJ spotted the first flicker of orange at the window, to the moment they stumbled out onto the lawn, choking and half-blinded, it was already collapsing in on itself. The Château was gone in minutes.
No one had time to grab anything. Their belongings—pictures, keepsakes, clothes—were left behind in the haze. All swallowed by the smoke. Avery could still feel the sting in her lungs, raw and aching with every breath, and the others didn't look any better.
JJ had it the worst. He refused to leave until everyone was out. He'd stood in the doorway like a soldier holding a line, eyes frantic, waiting for Kie to reappear. Avery's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst through her ribs. She had screamed for him, clawing at his shirt with trembling hands slick with sweat. He wouldn't move. Not until Kie did.
He noticed her panic—of course he did—and handed her off to John B and Sarah with a low murmur, something about the tree, somewhere safe. She didn't want to go, but the look in his eyes made it clear: Trust me. She hated how much she did.
It hadn't taken long. But long was relative when the air felt like it was made of ash and JJ's lungs were already fragile. By the time he came stumbling back out, soot smudged across his face, he could barely speak.
"Could've been a faulty electrical wire." Pope offered, his voice hoarse as they sat clustered beneath the tree, the smoke still curling in the distance like a ghost refusing to leave.
"Place was all wood. A tinderbox." Kie muttered, arms hugging her knees, eyes glassy as she stared at the charred remains of what used to be home for all of them.
"Thing just went up." Cleo exhaled sharply, "Boom."
JJ tried to joke, voice rough. "Verdict's in, bro. Whoever's up there, does not like you."
His timing missed the mark. Sarah's glare was sharp, Avery's nudge quiet but deliberate. Not now.
With a grunt, JJ rose to his feet, grabbed a bottle from the grass—glass, green, probably once full of beer—and hurled it into the embers. The crash echoed too loud against the silence, and no one said anything as they watched the ruins burn a little longer.
Eventually, the chill of dawn gave way to the sticky heat of late morning. They wiped down with an old towel forgotten on the hammock, trying to scrub off the smoke, though it had already seeped into their skin. No one felt clean.
Thunder rumbled low in the distance—just a warning, for now. The sky stretched grey over the Outer Banks, heavy with promise and threat. They drifted toward the dock, quiet, every footstep heavy with thoughts they didn't want to say out loud.
"Sarah, when did you say the pilot was getting in?" John B asked.
"Probably like an hour?" she said, brushing her hair out of her face. "I mean, once he's here, my dad says we can leave whenever we want."
