#jj x kook!reader

[featherandferns]

risk (fic)

jj maybank x fem!kook!reader | partly inspired by this incredible scene

content warnings: sexual content; physical violence

word count: 18k.

blurb: after a hurricane, a Labrador shows up at JJ's house. After some posters go up around the country, JJ begrudgingly returns the dog to you on Figure Eight. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever.

This is actually insane.

JJ has no idea how everything went to shit faster than a penny falling from the top of the Empire State Building. It seems to be the crux of his life.

One minute Rafe is beating the shit out of JJ’s face, Kelce holding him tight in a headlock, with Pope being strangled to his right by Topper, and the next everyone is still like rock.

There you stand, holding up a gun, safety unlatched, with the aim set directly at the centre of Rafe’s forehead. He’s already called your bluff once. It’s a classic Mexican stand-off. Nobody knows what you’re going to do next, not even JJ. Hell, he’s not even sure if you know what you’ll do next.

And it’s crazy to think that all of this started because of a dog.

Two Months Earlier

It always sucks when JJ admits to himself that Kiara was right. She was right about most things, in fairness, but just this once – just for a change – he had hoped that she wasn’t.

The blonde-haired boy stands in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at a poster taped to a streetlamp. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip in thought as he tugs the poster free, as if gaining a closer look might change what he sees.

MISSING DOG

IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO 12 SILVER CANOE WAY, FIGURE EIGHT

REWARD AVAILABLE

The picture is an uncanny reflection of the dog currently sat by JJ’s feet. He’s panting in the sun, blissfully unaware of the curveball tossed at his temporary owner. As JJ looks from the black-and-white poster to the middle-aged dog, he has to begrudgingly admit to himself that Kiara was right. This dog wasn’t a stray. Instead, he was the pet of some bratty, spoilt Kook.

“Whose dog is that?” Kiara asks.

JJ follows her gaze to the labrador cosied up on the porch, soaking up the sun like it was his God-given right.

“Mine,” he says.

“Yours?”

“Yeah, he just showed up after the hurricane."

It was true. The morning after the hurricane, JJ ventured out of his house to assess the damage only to hear a rustling and whimper from under the porch. Getting down on his hands and knees, expecting to find some beaten racoon, JJ came face to face with a petrified, middle-aged labrador. No collar. His cream coat was covered in dirt and dust and a small cut near his eye told JJ he’d found his way to his house during the hurricane, likely seeking shelter. After he coaxed him out with some fresh fish, the dog seemed to take a liking to the seventeen-year-old. JJ took it as the dog distribution system shining the light on him but Kiara didn’t seem so sure.

“And you’re just gonna claim him?”

“He’s a stray,” JJ tells her.

She looks to the dog again, then back to JJ. Her face essentially says, ‘seriously, dude?’

“He is!”

“A dog that well-groomed and that well fed is not a stray, and you know it.”

JJ’s stomach twists. He’d thought the same thing once he’d given the dog a wipe down. A full stomach, trimmed fur, trained to do more than just sit…Strays don’t come like that in Kildare County. But JJ liked the company the dog brought. He’d always wanted one, ever since he was a kid, but his dad would never allow it. Waste of money and food, he’d say. But so far, JJ had managed to keep the dog’s existence on the downlow. He wasn’t very loud or yappy. In fact, he was as calm as sea turtle. JJ liked the bond that had so quickly grown between them. So, swallowing the faint feeling of guilt of keeping someone’s dog, he tells Kiara:

“Well, until someone puts a poster up, I’m sticking to my gut. He’s a stray and he belongs with me.”

It’s like the universe was calling his bluff or something.

JJ crumples the poster in his fist, litters it on the street, and gently tugs on the leash.

“Come on, boy,” he mutters.

The dog gets to its feet and follows JJ down the street, back to the Chateau. He seems rather drained from the brief walk around the cut. Curls up by the front door in a patch of shade, yawning before nestling his head between his large paws for a nap. JJ watches him from the kitchen as he sips on a cold cider. His mind is in battle between right and wrong (as it usually is) as he contemplates the poster.

Kiara nearly falls over the dog as she walks into the Chateau. Then, she shoots a deadly glare to JJ.

“You didn’t go to the vet, did you?”

“Who actually microchips their pets, anyway?”

“Most people, JJ. It’s a clever way to make sure you get your dog back if, let’s say, it runs off in a hurricane without a collar,” Kie returns.

JJ rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his drink. “I’ll take him tomorrow.”

“Actually, there’s no need,” Kiara says. She walks across the room to him and pulls something from her back pocket. As she unfolds the rectangle of paper, JJ comes face to face with the very poster that had been occupying his mind for the past half hour. She holds it out to him.

“See? This is someone’s dog.”

“That could be any dog,” JJ lies.

Kiara quirks a brow. JJ breaks easily, sighing.

“Look, can we just consider the possibility that this dog would be happier with me?” JJ argues. He ditches his cider and makes his way over to the animal. “I mean, he likes me, Kie. And he listens to me. And I like having him around.”

Lowering to his knees, he pets the dog awake from his slumber. He makes an adorable grumbling-whine as he rouses from his sleep. Looking over to Kiara, JJ must resemble an eight-year-old begging their parents for candy at the grocery store.

“I’ll take good care of him,” he promises.

Kiara sighs. Her icy exterior softens, features overcome with sympathy. She joins him and the dog on the floor, scratching at the pet’s back.

“I know you will, JJ,” she says. “But this is someone’s pet. And they clearly want him back. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Since when do I ever do the right thing?” JJ mumbles. He looks down to meet the chocolate brown eyes of his new best friend.

“Since today, hopefully.”

JJ holds the dog’s gaze. There’s such tenderness in his eyes, as the dog stares up at him. Makes JJ feel as though he is the most important thing on this earth. Dogs don’t care about money or mind: you treat them right and give them a good stick, and they’ll be happy forever. Unconditional love like that is rare to find in humans. It seems to JJ like it’s almost impossible, really. But then he thinks of the dog looking at a little girl or boy like that, and how (as spoilt as they may be) the child feels nothing but love for the dog in return. It seems cruel to take that away. He knows deep down what the right thing is. The moral thing.

“Tomorrow,” JJ quietly says. Looking up, meeting Kiara’s eyes, he nods reluctantly. “I’ll take him to the house tomorrow.”

She smiles smally, nodding to herself. Getting to her feet, she leaves JJ alone with the dog to enjoy the last few hours of time together. He ends up falling asleep on the pull-out couch with the dog, face buried in the scruff of his neck, as he unconsciously counts down the hours left until he gives him back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ stretches out the walk to the house for as long as possible. He lets the dog sniff at every scent and even tries to coax a million pee breaks out of him. He lingers by the sea, stroking the dog’s fur, and shares a hot dog as they pass a gas station. Eventually, they arrive at Figure Eight. The hurricane left the cell towers down on The Cut, so he didn’t bother with his phone. That leaves him to follow street signs until he’s making his way up Silver Canoe Way.

The houses are insane. Marvels of architecture and money. Bright green hedges trimmed into the most obscure shapes; useless statutes standing pretty in front gardens, protected by walls and security cameras. Fountains on almost every property, and a pool probably found in every back garden. Lucky sons of bitches.

House 12 is gorgeous: cream stone bricks and oak-style wood accents. There isn’t a gate, which is curious considering all the others down the road have one. JJ feels as though he’s trespassing as he makes his way up the driveway. There's not a single weed sprouting between paving slabs. There’re two cars in the driveway, each probably cost more than his life insurance pay-out. He imagines birds that dare shit on them get taxed: it’s the only way to explain their cleanliness. God, living like this and he can half understand why Kooks are as obnoxious as they are. What appear to be marble steps lead to a huge front door. The dog seems to know where he is, tugging excitedly on the leash as he guides JJ up the stairs.

JJ stands for a long moment. He looks down at the dog, takes in its wagging tail, and sighs. As he lifts his fist to rap against the door, it swings open. JJ is just as stunned as you. He doesn’t have time to apologise for startling you, because your eyes drop from JJ to the barking dog. You sink to the floor, mouth falling open, and willingly let your dog tackle you in a hug. His leash slips from JJ’s hold. You scruff the dog’s neck, press kisses all over his face, and giggle tearfully as your dog greets you after almost a week apart.

“Oh my God! Ranger! Oh my God!” you happily cry over and over again.

JJ immediately feels evil for even contemplating keeping your dog, Ranger, to himself.

The moment Ranger seems to gain some composure, you remember JJ’s existence. Looking up, you quickly wipe away your tears from under your eyes and clamber back to your feet.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so rude!” you laugh, sticking out a hand. He shakes it as you introduce yourself.

“JJ,” he replies.

There’s a moment of recognition that passes over your face but it’s gone as soon as it comes, like the flash of green at sunset on the horizon.

“Thank you so much,” you say. One of your hands reaches down to ruffle at Ranger’s neck. JJ takes in how happy he is, staring up at you, grinning and panting, tongue out with exertion. “Where did you find him?”

“He kinda found me,” JJ replies, scratching the back of his neck. “Showed up under my house just after the hurricane. Guessing he got spooked or something.”

“That’s what we think happened,” you say. “I woke up to find the backdoor open. He must have jumped and bolted; he frightens easy, you see. I felt awful when I realised he was gone.”

As JJ listens to you speak, he’s partly distracted. It’s hard to follow along to what you say when you’re standing gorgeous like the first day of June.

“Well, like I said, it’s no trouble,” JJ repeats.

You smile brighter than a brand-new penny, teeth pearly white and perfect aligned. JJ doubts you ever needed braces. Probably born with a set of veneers. It’s with that bitter thought that he reminds himself what he’s dealing with here. A kook who lives in nothing short of a mansion, who can’t even keep her dog inside during a hurricane.

“The, uh, poster said something about a reward…” JJ awkwardly mentions.

Your face dawns with realisation and he momentarily feels guilty, but then you’re nodding fervently. “Of course! God, I can’t believe I forgot!”

“I mean, I would have brought him back anyway,” JJ bold face lies.

“No, don’t be silly, it’s the least I owe.” You pull your door open. “Come in, please,” you say, heading into your home.

JJ falters in the doorway. It feels as though even stepping into your home might put him short of a few hundred bucks, just from breathing the air. He follows the route you took into the house, closing the door behind him. The minute he’s out of the entryway and in the main corridor, his eyes widen like he’s witnessing a supernova.

“Holy super kook,” he mutters, gaping at the interior.

Marble everything. Expensive obnoxious artwork that must only be interpretable once you reach a certain tax bracket. Framed photos of yourself and your family on the wall at various vacation spots: France, Italy, Mexico, China. There are others, too, of dance recitals. A shelf of trophies and awards. Ornaments and figurines standing on podiums like he’s in a museum. JJ’s terrified to walk, as if one step might send everything falling off the walls.

He finds himself blindly following you into the kitchen. It’s crystal clean and white. Granite counter tops beautifully cluttered with every appliance you can imagine. You head to the fridge.

“You want a drink?”

“Uh, sure. Water’s fine, thanks,” JJ replies.

You nod and grab a glass that probably costs JJ’s entire monthly wage. Then you go to your fridge (it has a touchscreen for Christ’s sake) and dispense ice cold water. Holding it out to him, you smile, sweet like buttercream.

JJ sips and watches as you reach for a bag that lies on the kitchen counter, retrieving a wallet. Holding out two fifties, you wait for him to take them. His eyes stare at the unwrinkled notes. JJ’s momentary pause makes you frown.

“Sorry, that’s a bit tight of me, isn’t it?” you say. You dip into the bottomless wallet and retrieve another fifty. “Is that enough?”

“Uh, I couldn’t…” He clears his throat and finally snaps out of his stupor. Taking the money, he passes two fifties back, saying, “I can’t take all of this.”

You shake your head and push the money back towards him.

“I insist. You brought my dog back! I should be giving you more,” you say.

JJ holds back his laugh.

More? It’s a fucking dog! You’re about to give him $150 for a Goddamn seven-year-old labrador? God, Kooks really do just think different.

He looks up from the money and takes you in, properly this time. JJ recognises you. Not from keggers or house parties – he’s seen you at neither of those things – but from church. He used to be subjected to Sunday school in a desperate bid to ‘send him on the right life path’, and he could remember seeing you there. You’d attend the service, sat safe in your father’s shadow. Even though JJ stopped going, he’d still see people heading in the direction of the county church if he were in the area. You were a regular. Dressed in the prettiest dresses, hair perfect and proper, jewellery to the nines, always sandwiched between your mother and father. You didn’t indulge in the debauchery that most teenagers on the island did. JJ would know if he’d spotted you at one of the many hangs; you had the kind of beauty that demanded to be seen, like a rare bird on the marsh. No, girls like you didn’t partake in those things. You spent time with your parents and a small circle of Church friends, probably just as sheltered and saintly as yourself, and was in bed before sunset and awake before sunrise.  

And yet, you never rubbed JJ the wrong way like all the other Kooks did. He didn’t know you from Adam – in fact, the first time he’d ever shared a word with you was today – but something about you…You seemed different. Genuine. Rich, no doubt, but not exactly snobbish.

An idea suddenly comes to JJ. It’s stupid, and rather out of character given his prejudices, but for some reason, it’s miles more appealing than $150. A part of him wonders where his sudden charity is coming from. Maybe it’s something about your personality and his underlying infatuation he’s had with you since Sunday school. Maybe it’s your dog and how doting he appears to be of you. Hell, maybe it’s because you’re pretty. JJ’s always been a sucker for pretty girls – Kook or not – and he’s always wanted the things that he can’t have.

All these thoughts race through his head at a hundred miles an hour, and there’s only half a minute that passes before JJ speaks.

“How ‘bout this?” he says. “I take a fifty, and you let me take you out.”

You blink once, then twice. “Take me out? Like…on a date?”

“Yeah,” JJ nods. The fact that your whole face didn’t immediately shrivel up like a prune at the suggestion gives JJ hope that he might have a chance. “What’d you say?”

There’s a moment where your eyes dip down to Ranger. He’s sat at your feet, watching the two of you interact with his tongue hanging out, mouth in a seeming smile. The second your eyes lock with your dog's, you look back to JJ with new-found confidence.

“Depends,” you say, correcting your posture, chin held high. “What did you have in mind?”

JJ’s never had to pitch a date to a girl before in his life. Usually he asks and they’re there: hook, line and sinker. His brain thinks hard and fast. “I can pick you up. Go for a drive, grab a bite maybe. Get to know one another,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “Is that all?”

Of course, you have standards. Hell, the guys that court you probably dine you at The Ritz and gift you a Rolex. JJ isn’t deterred though. Instead, he’s rather amused.

With a boyish grin, he says, “princess, I promise one date with me and I’ll change your life forever.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Bold statement to make, Maybank.”  

JJ takes note of how you know his last name and thinks back to when he introduced himself; that strange flash of recognition on your face. You know who he is and yet, you’re entertaining the idea of letting him take you out. Curiouser and curiouser.

JJ doesn’t beg or barter. Instead, he just stares you down, waiting for your response as you visibly contemplate his offer. There’s a hint of a smile on your face, the type that might come when you’re trying to suss someone out. It’s barely there but JJ’s sure he can see it. He knows that look all too well.

“When would this be?”

JJ’s painfully aware of how desperate he may sound as he says, “Tomorrow night?”

“I have ballet practice tomorrow.”

“Thursday then.”

“Piano recital.”

“Jesus, woman,” he can’t help but mutter. It makes you smile.

“I’m free Friday,” you offer.

And, holy shit, no way you’re actually agreeing to this. JJ hopes the shock doesn't show on his face.

“Friday works. The, uh, cell towers are down on The Cut so how ‘bout I just pick you up? Seven thirty sound good?”

“Sure.”

You speak in a manner that tries to give the impression that this whole conversation is rather mundane to you. That you have Pogues asking you out every other hour, almost like a nine-to-five job.

“But pick me up on the street outside, not in the driveway.”

JJ doesn’t question it. He’s not going to argue to your terms when he’s somehow landed a date with the hottest, goody-two-shoes kook in Kildare.

“Alright. On the street, Friday at seven thirty. Wear something pretty, yeah?”

Your brows quirk. “Any other demands?”

“Yeah. Give me a fair chance?” JJ wonders, half-joking.

Your eyes flit from JJ’s face, down his body, right to his toes, and back again. Smiling, sweet like cotton candy, you reply, “I think I can do that.”

His body goes ice cold. JJ nods, cementing the dates and times in his memory like he’s remembering nuclear launch codes.

“Then, I guess I’ll see you soon, princess."

“I guess so,” you say, returning the leftover fifties to your wallet. JJ pockets his fifty, gives one last pet to Ranger in farewell, and shows himself to the front door. As it shuts behind him, JJ leans against it. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. Then, he laughs. He laughs and laughs, mouth upturned in an astounded smile, and shakes his head.

“No fucking way,” he mumbles to himself.

John B is not going to believe this. None of the Pogues are.

Rubbing at his face in disbelief, JJ repeats, “no fucking way” one last time before walking down the driveway. He spares one last glance at the house. Friday. Seven-thirty.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ has never been one to care all that much about his appearance. Half of his clothes have a hole in them somewhere, whether it be on the collar or in a pocket, and his hair is constantly tousled with salt-water from the sea. He isn’t unclean though. He showers and shaves and washes his clothes (though perhaps not as much as he should). He doesn’t think he’s bad looking, either. Lived experience shows that to be true, as he’s never struggled to land a date or hook-up. But there’s something about you, something about this particular meeting, that has him turfing through his chest of drawers.

He’s pretty sure he’s settled on an outfit. It’s ironic that it looks almost thrown together when JJ’s spent fifteen minutes obsessing over it. He washed his hair with shampoo and conditioner (that he stole from Kiara) and even used some hair wax to try and style it. Again, it probably looks the same as usual, but he feels better for it.

All the faffing leaves him running late. It’s closer to 7:45 than 7:30 by the time JJ pulls up your road on his bike. He’s aware of how loud the engine is in this area, rumbling as he slows to a stop. You’re stood in the sidewalk, arms crossed anxiously over your chest, glancing up and down the street. As JJ approaches, your eyes fall on him and a nervous smile sparks to life. JJ bullshits himself by labelling his hammering heart as adrenaline from riding a dirt bike on Figure Eight. You push some of your hair behind your ear as you walk up to meet him halfway. You’re practically glowing under the sunset sky, skin shiny with body butter like you’ve been bathed in glitter. He shuts off the engine and sits back in the seat.

“You’re late."

JJ cringes playfully. “My bad?”

“Mhm.”

You step over to him and linger by his bike. He quirks a brow. “You hopping on?”

As your eyes survey the vehicle, JJ starts to grin, smug. “You ever been on a bike before?”

“Course,” you say, almost too quickly. “Just…Not one like this.”

JJ offers out a hand and you hesitate for a second before taking it. Grasping your hand in his, you climb onto the back of his bike. Your summer dress rides up as you do and you nervously tug it down. Then, your arms gently loop around his waist. Laughing, JJ shakes his head. He tightens your grip on him.

“Gotta hold on tight or you’ll fly off,” JJ remarks.

“Promise not to do anything stupid?” you say, voice thick with nerves.

JJ starts up the engine. “Princess, I can’t promise anything like that,” he grins. Looking over his shoulder, meeting your terrified eyes, he softens his smile. “But I promise you’re safe.”

Your own smile battles through the queasy nervousness. JJ revs the engine and turns his head back to the road, and then he sets off. Your arms immediately latch tighter like a vice. It makes him laugh, and you mutter a meek ‘shut up’ in reply. Having you close like this; he can smell your perfume. It’s expensive, encapsulating you like you’ve been doused in it. Several bangle style bracelets lining your wrists press into his skin through his t-shirt, only slightly uncomfortable, and when he turns a corner, they shift and jangle melodically together.

Zipping down the roads of Figure Eight, JJ drags out the journey the same way he did walking Ranger back to your house. Gradually, mansions turn to shacks and quaint homes, and well-kept children’s parks into overgrown yards surrounded with chain-link fence.

He pulls down a dirt track, heading nearer to the marshland, and eventually comes to a stop. You catch your breath as he turns off the engine.

“Feeling alright?” he checks, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply.

You look a little windswept. Instinctively, JJ reaches out a hand to brush some hair from your face. Embarrassed, you help, calming down your hair and fixing your appearance. Then you use JJ’s shoulders as an anchor, climbing off his bike.

“So…You brought me out to middle of nowhere…” you say, looking around.

JJ kicks on the stand and pulls the keys form the ignition. “Scared?”

“Should I be?”

JJ chuckles, shaking his head. “Come on. I got something planned.”

He takes your hand, smiling to himself as you intertwine your fingers with his, and guides the two of you through the shrubs towards the water side. The P.M.S. Pogue sits moored in the marsh. A loan, if he helps John B clean out the chicken hut next week.

“Now, I know this probably ain’t like all the fancy yachts you and your folks have,” JJ starts, walking up to the boat side. “But I promise it runs like a dream.”

As he looks back to you, JJ’s eyes shamelessly sweep along your figure. The dress you’re wearing is pastel green adorned with dainty flowers of white and ivy. It ends just past the point of tortuous on your legs. You’re pretty as a vine and sweet like a grape, decorated with expensive jewellery. Pearl earrings and a Tiffany necklace. On your wrist, though, JJ finds a series of handmade friendship bracelets amongst your bangles. They’re made with shells and beads and tiny pendants of silver. Several rings sit pretty on your fingers.

Looking back to the boat, JJ pulls the ladder free with a grunt. It creaks from want of use: himself and the Pogues usually just climb inside or jump on from the jetty. “Ladies first,” he says, offering out a hand.

You look between his hand and the ladder, and then something deterministic overcomes your face as you place your hands on lip of the boat. With a huff, you use whatever upper body strength you have to climb up. JJ stands, taken aback, and his eyes falls to your bare legs. Your toes are pointed, calve muscles tense and strong, and he can almost picture you in pointe ballet slippers. Amused, JJ lets you clamber up into the boat. Sighing, you correct your dress and jewellery before looking down at him.

“Well? You coming?”

JJ gives a small laugh before nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

He climbs with significantly less difficulty than yourself, proudly flexing his muscles as he does, shameless in his peacocking. When he gets to his feet, he finds you staring. “Like what you see?”

Your face flushes. You try and play it off though. “Just checking if you needed a hand.”

JJ grins, playing along, and you roll your eyes and walk to the wheel of the boat. He follows, pulling the keys from his short pockets, and turns on the engine which sputters to life. You hold onto the side of the steering hold as JJ guides the two of you into the marsh.

“You wanna steer?” he asks once you’re in wider waters.

You wordlessly step up and take the wheel. It’s easy, guiding the boat along. JJ hovers behind you, testing the waters by placing a hand on your waist. You don’t shrug him off. Soon enough, JJ’s placing a hand back on the wheel and guiding you to a certain spot.

“I found this place a while ago,” he says over your shoulder as he steers. He can feel your gaze on him. It’s terrifying, having you so close to him. God, he hopes it doesn’t show. “Best stargazing spot in the whole county.”

He slows the engine to a shuddering stop and steps away to toss the anchor down. It’s silent out in the water, asides from sea birds and marsh-side insects. Fish that break to the surface for a split-second disturb the water every now and then. Crickets and distant hooting owls. It’s dark now, too. Everything painted in a dusky blue. JJ grabs the old blanket that he stole from the twinkie and lies it down on the nose of the boat.

“Here,” he calls.

You make your way over, accepting his hand as you step up. The two of you settle to lay side by side. JJ tucks his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow. You stare at the sky, eyes falling open at the endless expanse.

“Woah.”

“Pretty sick, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, laughing quietly. “It’s awesome.”

JJ grins. Nailed it.

For a while, the two of you just stargaze. He can hear your breathing, steady and calm, and once more your perfume invades his senses. A bottle of the stuff probably cost more than his bike. That thought prompts him to break the silence. Sitting up, he looks down at you.

“Alright, I gotta ask,” he says.

You sit up on your elbows, curiosity piqued. It takes everything in JJ to keep his eyes trained on your face and not your chest.

“Why’d you agree to go out with me?”

You smile, somewhat amused. It’s like you’ve been waiting for him to ask. “Well, that’s an easy question.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Mhm,” you grin, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Christ, you’re angelic. “Ranger.”

“Your dog?”

“Yep.”

“What? You kooks manage to translate what they bark about or something? He give you some words of wisdom?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Sitting up fully, your bracelets chime together. “He liked you.”

“Yeah?” JJ says, brows tugging together in confusion.

“Ranger doesn’t trust easy. He’s a rescue and he practically chose me. The shelter people said he hadn’t let anyone near him since arriving, but with me, he came running over, like he knew me or something. He likes men even less. He won’t let my daddy within five yards of him without barking and cowering. He wouldn’t hurt you, but he gets scared and jumpy. But he seemed to like you. Seemed to trust you.”

“So, that made you agree to go out with me?” JJ checks.

Shrugging, you simply reply, “dogs are the best judge of character, after all.”

Humming in thought, JJ looks out to the marsh as he considers what you’ve said. It’s a little hilarious that a runaway dog is the reason that he’s got you here, alone, on the P.M.S. Pogue.

“My turn,” you say, seemingly initiating a game of twenty-one questions. JJ looks back to you. “Why’d you ask me out?”

“Pretty obvious. You’re fucking gorgeous,” JJ replies.

Whilst your smile turns to mush, you roll your eyes and act as if you’re unaffected by his words. “Seriously, though. I didn’t think I was your type.”

“Smoking hot girls? Nah, you’re pretty much my type to a T,” JJ goes on, charming smile in full view.

“What about Kiara?”

JJ gives a bemused smile. “What about Kie?”

“I know she hangs out with you guys. We’re pretty different people, me and her.”

It’s obvious that you’re far from low maintenance. You're proud of being a kook. You don’t shy away from it: happy to show off your money and beauty. JJ doesn’t get the sense that you’re haughty but it seems rather clear that you live your life to a certain standard.

JJ shrugs. “Guess that’s why I’m not dating her.”

“I know your reputation, you know. About all the girls you hook-up with and stuff.”

“Oh. You jealous or something?”

“No,” you say. Voice turning softer, you continue. “But I feel like I should to tell you that I’m not the kind of girl who has a lot of hook-ups. Or the kind who puts out on the first date.” When JJ doesn’t say anything, you feel the need to add, “just, before you get your hopes up.”

Pursing his lips, JJ nods slowly. He had a feeling that was going to be the case. You weren’t exactly known in the community for being particularly flirtatious. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever known any guy to date you. From the way you spoke, careful with your words, and the way you acted, you were almost made of solid gold: pure through and through. So, having you take sex off the table for the foreseeable future didn’t exactly blind-side JJ. That to say, if you had offered it up, he would have jumped at the opportunity. God, he’s half sure he’d die if he ever saw you naked.

He could be a gentleman, though. He could. Something about you had JJ entranced outside of just the physical. So, if a hook-up wasn’t in the cards, maybe getting to know you might be all the better.

He’ll just have to learn to keep his eyes and his dick to himself.

Sighing, JJ lowers himself to lay down again. This time, he only tucks one arm behind his head. The other, he outstretches into your expanse of the blanket.

“Alright, princess. I think I can live with that,” he says.

Seemingly content with his reply, you lay back down, resting your head in the nook of his arm.

“It’s your turn,” you quietly say after a moment’s quiet.

“To do what?”

“Ask a question.”

JJ filters through the many in his mind, tucking the inappropriate ones away for a later date, and finally settles. “Alright. Was Ranger the only reason you agreed to go on a date with me?”

You let out a small tuneful hum of contemplation. “No. I wanted to see what you were like.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I’ve seen you around the island and heard the stories. I suppose I wanted to know for myself,” you say. “Plus, I always do what I’m supposed to do. I guess I wanted to do the opposite, for a change.”

“Rebelling against your dear old daddy with the derelict from the Cut?” JJ jokingly asks.

“Hmm. Something like that,” you say, playing along. You turn your head to the side and meet JJ's eyes. “You’re just a pawn in my game, Maybank.”

JJ’s too sucker-punched from that to come up with something witty in reply. There’s a foreign thump in his chest and a selcouth feeling in the back of his throat as you look at him. JJ swallows it away, returning his attention to the star-lit sky.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ revels in the miracle that he landed a second date with you as he fixes his hair in John B’s bathroom mirror. His best friend sits on the closed toilet lid, watching him.

“I can’t believe you’re seeing her again,” John B says for the millionth time.

JJ grins at his reflection. “I know.”

“I mean, what do you guys even talk about?” JB continues, face contorted in confusion.

JJ shrugs. “I don’t know. We just spent the other night talking about all sorts, really.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t being paid to go out with you?”

“Maybe the first time, but not this time, no,” JJ replies. He stops messing with his hair. Licks over his teeth, checking for trapped food, and dusts of his t-shirt. Looking to his friend, JJ asks, “how do I look?”

John B barely takes his appearance in before saying, “like she’s out of your league.”

“Come on, man,” JJ groans, shoving his best friend’s shoulder. He leaves the bathroom, John B hot on his tail. “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah. That I’m macking on a kook and you ain’t,” JJ tells him. Opening the fridge, he tosses a beer to John B before taking one for himself. “I know you’ve had a thing for Sarah Cameron since we were kids.”

“No,” John B quickly says, shaking his head. “No, no, I do not have ‘a thing’ for Sarah Cameron.”

“JB, you’re a terrible liar,” JJ sighs. He takes a sip of his drink. Liquid confidence. Eyes glancing up to the clock hung on the chateau’s kitchen wall, he reckons he has about five minutes before he should leave for your house.

“So, seriously: what is this? Why this new flavour of the month?” John B grills.

JJ shrugs. “I dunno man. She’s just…She’s cute. And hot. And rich, and easy to talk to, and kinda funny, and, oh did I mention, rich as fuck. I don’t see any downsides, really.”

“Mhm, well, I do,” John B gladly counters. “She’s a kook.”

“Yeah, but she’s not like a kook kook. Kinda like how Kiara’s a kook,” JJ argues.

John B looks bewildered. “She is nothing like Kiara.”

“Alright, not in personality or looks or actual money, but in general kook-ness.”

“All I’m saying is that if you think this thing has a long shelf-life, you’re way more crazy than I thought you were,” John B says.

JJ doesn’t reply. Downing the rest of his can, he tosses it at the trash can (dismally misses) and heads for the front door. As he goes, he taps John B on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

“Nice to know you’re rooting for me, man,” he jovially says in farewell.

Then, he’s heading down the porch steps, climbing onto his bike, and setting sights for your house for the fourth time in his life.

Your house stands like a castle in the streets. JJ practically sees the driveway as a crocodile infested moat. He waits on the street at the foot of the driveway for you, arriving in time to see you make your way down the drive. You’re dressed in Levi shorts and a Tommy Hilfiger shirt, designer sandals on your decorated feet with anklets and toe rings. JJ sits back on his seat, engine running, and finds himself grinning as you smile at him. When did that start to happen?

“Not late this time, huh?” you playfully say.

“Learnt my lesson.”

You don’t hesitate as you climb on the back of his bike. You wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers splaying out across his chest over his t-shirt. JJ revs the engine.

“Ready?”

“Hell yeah.”

Grinning, JJ sets off down the street.

Once again, you’d left the plans in JJ’s hands. It was a little surreal to him, how trusting you were of him. Might be a place of concern, even. But, hey, JJ will take the win.

It’s still light when you get to the cliffside. From here, the view is incredible. An orange-pink sky that looks like it might taste of tangerine and peach hangs above a rolling sea. The view stretches on for miles, with the mainland off along the horizon.

JJ admires you as you stand in breeze, looking out at the view. You turn to face him.

“Why does every place I let you take me get more and more concerning every time?”

“We’re going cliff jumping,” is JJ’s reply.  

Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your head. “That’s called suicide, JJ.”

“Nah, not here,” he says, shaking his head. He grabs your hand and tries to coax you nearer to the edge so you can see the drop. “Water’s plenty deep and cliff’s plenty high. It’s fun.”

You catch on that he’s not joking. Laughing nervously, you shake your head and take several large steps back to safety. “No, no, no.”

“Come on! It’s fun!” JJ swears.

Your smile begins to fade and your head shakes faster. “No way. I don’t do…That. And I’ll ruin my hair. And what about my jewellery?”

“You can take off your jewellery,” JJ argues, walking towards you, “and your hair’ll look good either way.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snort, eyeing him up as your arms cross over your chest. “You’re a guy.”

“First of all: rude.”

JJ tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground. Your eyes instinctively glance down at his chest. JJ doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.

“Second of all: live a little, princess.”

You scoff. “I live plenty, thank you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Really. Have you ever been to Paris? Seen the Eiffel tower? Been in the catacombs? Or gone to Italy and tasted wine fresh from a vineyard?”

JJ raises a brow, sarcastic as he says, “yeah, every Tuesday. Now come on.”

He grabs for your wrist, tugging you towards him. You don’t push him away as he lifts his fingers to the clasp of your necklace, only momentarily struggling to get it loose. He gently places it on top of his t-shirt, and soon your many rings follow. You lean down and take off your toe rings and anklets, and then your earrings. The handmade bracelets stay, though. Standing upright, you take a shaky breath.

“Look, you don’t have to,” JJ quietly says. He can see the fear clear as day on your face. But you shake your head, newly determined by his offer of an out. Clearly you don’t like having your bluff called.

JJ’s eyes nearly fall out of his head as you pull your shirt off. He doesn’t even have time to recover before your wriggling out of your shorts, stepping out of them and carelessly tossing them onto the pile of clothes and accessories like you got them from a bargain bin at a thrift store. Stepping out of your sandals, standing proud in matching Calvin Klein underwear, you grab his hand and interlock your fingers, guiding the two of you to the cliffside. As you pull him into motion, JJ comes out of his filthy thoughts, mouth dry.

You come to a sudden stop a safe three feet away from the edge. JJ’s done this too many times to count but the adrenaline that floods the system before the first jump shocks him every time like a cold plunge. You gnaw on your lower lip in trepidation. JJ squeezes your fingers, mutters your name, and captures your attention.

“You trust me?”

Your beautiful eyes dance across his face. JJ almost sees you go calm, like a baby soothed by its favourite nursery rhyme. It seems that his question, as simple as it is, made something click in your mind.

“Yeah,” you breathe, as if realising it in the moment. “I do.”

With that, JJ gives one last squeeze to your hand and a fleeting smile, and then he starts running towards the cliffside. You run too, only a step behind, and the two of you hurl yourselves off the edge at the same time. Your scream echoes in the wind as air rushes past JJ’s ears. He whoops on his way down. The two of you pummel down towards the water, your hand never leaving his until you reach the surface. His eyes press shut and he prepares for impact as he crashes into the depths. The water is cold but not icy – it cools his skin comfortably. Everything goes quiet in the water, mellowed out and muted. JJ pushes to the surface and takes a breath of air, shoving wet hair off his face. As he looks around, treading water in the currents, he feels the adrenaline rise once more when he can’t find you.

JJ starts calling out your name, looking left and right and left again. Just as he’s about to dive under, you break. He gasps out in relief.

The minute your eyes open, they land on him. Then, the biggest smile he’s ever seen comes over your face. It etches itself on his brain with permanent marker. JJ could be senile and decrepit and still remember that look on your face.

“That was amazing!” you scream, throwing your hands up, spraying water everywhere. “Oh my God! We have to do that again!”

JJ laughs, soaking in your joy.

It’s weird seeing you, wet and without all your dressings. It’s like seeing a priceless painting outside of its frame: it makes it somehow even more beautiful. The setting sun warms your wet skin as you throw your head back, eyes shut, grinning like a mad man. JJ wants to seal this moment in resin and place it on his mantle as a keepsake.

You make JJ climb up that cliff and jump into the ocean about five times over, until the sun has almost fully set and you can’t risk the dark. As it slowly inches down and down towards the horizon, you and JJ sit side by side on the grass. Your hand is so close to his, fingers reaching out like growing ivy, teasing at making contact. The moment the jumping was done, you’d returned all your jewellery to your body. It sparkles with the damp. As his eyes drift down from your profile to your figure, he picks up on those handmade bracelets again.

“What’s with the friendship bracelets?” JJ asks.

You look down at them then up at JJ. “I make them.”

“Why?”

Laughing, you shrug. “I don’t know. Why does anyone do anything?”

“Do you sell them?”

“No,” you say, messing with one. “I just enjoy doing it. I make them for my friends.”

“That’s sweet,” JJ hums, looking back out to the view.

“What about your shark tooth necklace? Someone make that for you?” you ask.

JJ glances down at it. “My ma. She used to collect shark teeth that washed up on the beach.”

“Well, she’s pretty talented,” you smile. “Maybe she can make one for me, one day.”

JJ swallows thickly, jaw ticking tight. “She, uh, ain't around anymore.”

“Oh…I'm sorry.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t know.”

The awkward quiet that comes passes like a summer breeze. Sighing contentedly, the two of you watch as the world gets darker and darker, and the sun gets lower and lower.

“So, how are you finding it?”

“Finding what?” you ask.

JJ gestures to himself, to everything around him.  “This. Pogue-life. Rebelling against your dad. Not doing as you’re told.”

You laugh, shaking your head. JJ watches as you pull your knees up to your chest, sitting dainty as a robin balanced on a branch. Tucking some hair behind your ears, you look out to the horizon as if caught in a daydream. A solemn look threatens to cross your face as you say, “it’s making me realise just how much I’ve been missing out on.”

And that…JJ wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting one of your usual playful jabs, soaked in sarcasm. Not that. It makes you more human and less Kook. More real. More attainable, even, for JJ. It’s like with every minute he spends in your orbit, he gets closer and closer to you. But everyone knows the story of Icarus, and what happens when you fly too close to the sun.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the fourth date, JJ’s practically foaming at the mouth, feral from restraint.

He still hadn’t kissed you. Hadn’t had the opportunity. You’d kept teasing him with it, temporarily placing it on the table before taking it away. He knew he had to go about this carefully. One wrong move and he could screw up all his hard work and send you off running.

What surprised JJ more than most was the fact that feeling your body under him was one of the lowest ranking motivators to spend time with you. Don’t get it twisted – it was still a pretty bloody strong motivator – but JJ wanted to know you and be known by you. You were interesting and captivating, and caring and kind. You were funny and had this sweet sense of humour that glimmered through from time to time, like a kaleidoscope hanging from a window-frame. With every minute in your company, his prejudice of Kooks was dismantled piece by piece. One run in with Rafe or Topper and it would probably be rekindled ten-fold, but for now, JJ learnt to see past it. You were a little out of touch but you didn’t act like you were better than him. Then again, he hadn’t taken you to his house or the Chateau yet. He kept the dates on common ground, where he never felt out of his depths or wallowing within them.

You hit like a crisp, ice-cold beer on the hottest day of summer. More intoxicating than any blunt he’s ever smoked, or any line he’s ever snorted. Light like a feather in how you move, soft like rain and driven like fresh laid snow. You had hijacked nearly all of JJ’s thoughts, in one way or another, and it fucking terrified him.

“So, I went for white and pastel blue. I think they’re cute. What do you think?”

You hold your fingers out for JJ to inspect your nails. JJ couldn’t care less about nails – half the time, his are dirtied with mud and oil – but you care an awful lot, so he can pretend. To be honest, he had only been half-listening to your story. His eyes had been fixated on your lips, daydreaming about how they’d feed against his own, how soft they might be as he nips at them with his teeth, how wet they might be if he were to slip his dick between them…

“JJ?”

He blinks out of his gutter-brain and takes in your nails.

“They’re pretty. I like the, uh, sheen on them,” he says.

You practically become alight with the comment. It feels like another brownie point that he can tally. Bringing them to your gaze, you nod fervently. “Right? I’ve never gotten metallic powder on them but I think I like it.”

With that, you sigh and lay back on your towel. The two of you are at the beach and have been since two in the afternoon. It’s now nearly seven in the evening. JJ thinks you’re at your prettiest in the golden hour. It’s like God himself is shining a spotlight on you, highlighting every perfection of your features. The way your designer jewellery twinkles in the rays, the sun-kissed sheen of your cheeks, the ethereal-like glow of your eyes…It’s taking everything not to look at your body, proudly displayed in a bikini. It’s blue. It seems you like blue an awful lot.

JJ distracts himself from your figure and his tightening swim shorts by petting Ranger. He’d tagged along for the day and is currently napping in the sun. You’d brought plenty of water and dog snacks to keep him going. JJ had supplied the seltzers and bag of chips for the two of you. He’d noted how you’d been making one can last for about two hours. He wondered if you’d been tipsy before, or drunk even.

When he looks back to you, eyes sweeping up your sand-scattered stomach, he finds you threading the seashells you’d been collecting throughout the day on string. You’d brought a little kit with you in your bag and had spent the last three hours making jewellery on and off whilst talking to JJ. You lay in a sea of designer accessories – Ray Ban sunglasses, Dior lip-gloss, Clinique sunscreen – as you craft.

“That’s coming together nice,” he comments.

You glance up to meet his eyes, smiling. “It’s for you.”

“Me?”

“Mhm. Need to check if it fits, actually,” you mumble, shifting onto your knees.

JJ willingly holds out a wrist for you as you coil it around. It looks hilariously dainty on his built form. Seashells and blue and white and silver beads. Then he notices the small letters you’d interwoven into the design. JJ. His heart makes that awful, jarring tug again. JJ can’t decide he likes this effect you have on him.

“Perfect,” you say.

You tie it off and fasten it around his wrist. He shakes his arm out a little to check its fit. You’re right: it’s perfect.

The moment your eyes glance up from his arm, meeting his, JJ forgets all his manners. He takes your face in one hand and presses his lips to yours. You let out a gasp as he does, hands coming up to press at his shoulders, pushing him off.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, fingers flying up to your lips.  

His heart is loud in his ears, hammering like he’s thirteen and having his first kiss all over again. In the deafening beat of it, he dumbly replies, “kissing you?”

“Well, you can’t just kiss me,” you say, almost offended. “You have to ask first.”

“Alright…Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes are like raging storms as you stare at him. Anyone would have thought from your expression that he just asked to take you roughly in the streets. Trying to calm yourself with a drawn-out breath, you cock your head.

“Why should you?”

JJ frowns. “What?”

“Why should I let you kiss me?”

Now usually, JJ would be pissed. Annoyed and impatient, and would get up and leave and never look back. But for you, he can’t find it in him. No, it’s all offset by that same damn curiosity that got him here in the first place. You’re like an enigma. A blackhole. He wants desperately to know more, to understand, but is terrified of being sucked in completely. Terrified of what it might all mean.

So, JJ deliberates your question. “Cause you like me?”

“I do?” you ask, quirking your brows.

You must. You wouldn’t have stuck around for this long if you didn’t. Wouldn’t have handmade a bracelet. So, he nods, feeling his confidence grow like the swell of a wave.

“Yeah, you do. I think you like what I bring out of you.”

“Making a lot of assumptions here, Maybank,” you practically warn. But the anger is gone. Gives him hope that he’s on the right track. JJ tries and fails to bite back his smile.

“Maybe,” he says. “But it’s only cause I feel the same way.”

When you don’t speak, he takes it as a cue to continue. As he goes on, his heart shudders with the anxiety that vulnerability brings.

“I like the way I am around you. I like how you make me feel. I like talking to you, and I like hearing you talk. You just have this way of speaking that’s…It just makes everything feel like it’s good. Everything’ll be good.”

Something in what he’s said seems to take you aback. You blink a few times, lips parting as you sit, looking at him all the while. He hopes that if your thoughts are still set on the idea that he’s in this for nothing more than a lay, he’s just proved that wrong. He supposes with his reputation on the island amongst the youngsters, he can’t be all that surprised if that was what you had thought. But surely, after spending so many hours in your company, doing nothing asides from talking and innocently touching, you had seen past that. Didn’t you say that you wanted to get to know him, to see him for yourself?

“Do you mean that?” you quietly ask. It’s almost sad, the tone of your voice and the look on your face, like nobody’s ever said something like that to you before. JJ swallows the sick feeling that it brings.

He nods. “Yeah. I do.”

Slowly, a smile blossoms on your face like the first budding flower of spring. With a small, slight nod, you tell him, barely louder than a whisper, “you can kiss me now.”

JJ does so gladly. But he’s careful with it this time, makes it count. He sweeps one hand from your shoulder, up against your collarbones, until it cups your jaw gently. Tilting your head just-so, he leans forward and pauses just a breadth before your lips. And then, he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and different to the usual blind-haze rush that JJ finds himself in when making out. The pacing to it makes it almost sensual. The feeling the kiss brings is alien to JJ; he can’t quite place a name to it.

One of your hands finds home on his jaw, exploring his skin, fingers looping into the hair on the back of his neck. When he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue, you sigh gently against his lips.

As the two of you kiss on the beach, that new-found sensation in JJ’s chest intensifies, and then it dawns upon him - this new feeling that your kiss brings. Different from lust and libido.

His eyes fly open. Stomach plummets through the sand.

JJ Maybank is falling in love with you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the summer stretched on, JJ realised he’d spent most of June in your company, growing closer and closer. It felt natural now to have your hand intertwined with his. JJ can hardly remember a time when wasn’t talking to you, or talking about you, or thinking of you, or organising his days around meeting you. He knew what it meant, what all of it meant, and this impending feeling of something grew with every word passed and every kiss shared. It almost felt like he was watching a sand-timer. Seeing each grain slip by, counting down until the inevitable end, just like most things in his life did.

He'd introduced you to the Pogues upon everyone’s insistence, including your own. John B was still in disbelief that JJ had managed to keep you around for as long as he had. Pope, on the other hand, was practically suspicious of it. It was as if he needed the cold, hard evidence for proof that JJ wasn’t spinning yarns. Kiara had of course jumped at the opportunity to gloat about the ‘good karma’ she’d bestowed upon JJ, by encouraging him to return Ranger to you. When she’d met you, she’d be apprehensive. Distrusting of your Kook status, having known you more than the others from attending Kook Academy with you. But JJ was sure she’d warm up, bit by bit. It helped that you wanted to try new things. You wanted to try the whole Pogue lifestyle. You let JJ take you surfing and begged to try his bike out. You let John B teach you to fish and wrestled Pope on nights spent around the campfire. You’d share seltzers with Kiara and sang along whenever she played the uke. And, oh, of course you could sing. You’d had lessons, you see, as you had with practically every other extra circular on earth. Piano, violin, ballet, tap…Shit, it was like you were collecting Pokémon or something.  

In fact, it scared JJ how easy it was to pick up on the little details about you. It was like collecting stones on the beach: before you know it, your pockets are weighing you down, filled with tiny little pebbles. You were a fruity girl: cocktails and sangria and wine and seltzers – never beer. You weren’t a heavy drinker. Didn’t partake in shots apart from Cherry Bombs. You preferred sweet over salty; always took creamer and syrup in your coffee, in that order; rom coms from the nineties and noughties were your kryptonite, and you loathed fast and furious; skirts before shorts; Tiffany before Pandora; lip gloss over lip stick. God, the tingly sensation from plumping lip gloss was all too familiar to JJ now, from having it smear off your mouth to his.

After the kiss on the beach, mouths and hands had only continued to wander. It’s like JJ’s admission that this was more than just trying to score you for sex was the passcode to open you up. You weren’t prudish. In fact, when JJ met you, he was half certain that maybe you were a virgin. But no…now he found that very hard to believe.

Saying all that, it still felt bizarre to be seen out in public with you. It wasn’t a secret, had never been really, but JJ remained surprised at how willing you were to take his hand in public. To be seen with him by everyone in the County. It was like you wanted to show him off, parade him around like he was something special, like one of your many Prada purses. It almost made JJ want to question if you had ulterior motives.

“You wanna just split a portion of fries?” JJ asks, looking at The Wreck’s menu. You were there for lunch.

You hum in thought. “Maybe. I want mac and cheese though.”

“We can get that, too. I mean, you’re paying, right?”

You prod him under the table with your foot. He gives a playful laugh, grinning childishly. He’d started calling you his sugar mommy since you had to pay for gas when his card got declined. It softened the sting of embarrassment that came with being broke, especially when compared to you. I mean, even now, he sits in a thrifted t-shirt, the decal on the chest nearly faded with how much it had been worn and washed, whilst you’re in your new threads. Dior threads, for that matter.

“Hiya. You guys ready to order?” the waitress asks.

JJ glances up from the menu and shit. Shit shit shit. The minute his eyes meet hers, recognition dawns upon her. It’s weird seeing this girl – Lily, he thinks her name is – from this angle. Last time they’d seen each other, she’d been laying underneath him…

You’re thankfully blissfully unaware, eyes trained on the menu.

“JJ. Long time no see.”

With that, your head darts up. Great.

“Hey…Lily. How are you?”

At least luck is partly on his side: he got her name right. She places a hand on his waist. “Fine, thanks. Been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

“I’ve been busy,” JJ says.

“I bet. Remember a time when you were busy with other things…”

Her tone speaks volumes, as do her eyes as she surveys his body, smiling flirtatiously.

Suddenly, your hand is extending across the table, towards Lily. JJ looks to you to find a sickly, sweet smile on your face.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” you say, voice honied. She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “You know JJ?”

“We have a…history, of sorts,” Lily replies.

“Oh. Well, any friend of JJ’s is a friend of mine.”

Looking to JJ, there’s an emotion in your eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s terrifying and sexy as hell. Raising a hand, your fingers leisurely splay across the expanse of JJ’s shoulder, manicured nails digging-in only so. Not enough to cause damage but enough to make a point. Enough to mark your territory.

“Babe? Can you order for me?”

“Uh, course,” JJ says, clearing his throat.

Looking down at the menu, eyes not even fixating on any of the words, JJ reals of an order. Lily scribbles it down, takes the menus, and leaves without another word. The minute she’s out of sight, you drop the act, hand unlatching from his body. JJ raises his brows, holding back his laugh as he turns to you.

"What a bitch," you mutter. You wash away your words with a sip of your water.

“Didn’t take you as the jealous type.”

“Yeah, well, some girls need to learn when to shut their traps,” you lowly return. Sighing, you close your eyes and shake your head. “Sorry. That wasn’t very girls-girl of me.”

“Mm. If only your daddy could hear you now,” JJ adds, sighing disapprovingly.

You shoot him an unimpressed glare. JJ brings his glass to his lips, having a sip of his water.

“You sleep with her?”

JJ chokes and coughs. “Jesus. Straight shooter."

“Better not be talking about yourself there, Maybank.”

JJ laughs, putting his cup down. Looking to you, he shrugs. “Yeah. Like…three months ago, alright? It was before we met.”

“Mhm. You sleep with anyone since we met?” you wonder.

JJ can’t place your tone but something tells him that this question will make or break him. Thankfully, there isn’t even a need to lie. “No.”

“You swear?”

“Scout’s honour,” he says, lifting three fingers whilst simultaneously marking his heart with a cross.  “Shit, I don’t want you to claw my eyes out. Or any other girls, for that matter.”

You shove his shoulder gently, smile creeping back to your lips. “Shut up. Like I’d ever. The Bible frowns upon it.”

“What about ‘an eye for an eye’?”

“Ooh. Somebody went to Sunday School,” you tease.

“Yeah, just so I could gawk at you,” he smoothly returns, winking for good measure. With that, JJ knows he’s back in your good books.

When Lily brings the food over, she doesn’t try to strike up any conversation. Dare JJ say, she looks terrified to be within a foot of the table. JJ knew you had an edge but this is different. This possessiveness, this proprietorial energy that came over you…Fuck, he knows what’s the newest addition to his wank-bank.

The two of you eat, talking about what you should do tomorrow (because, of course, he’ll spend tomorrow with you) and then JJ desperately tries to give constructive feedback to your latest Pinterest board of hairstyle inspiration. He gets up to pay. It’ll probably cost half his wage but it’s worth it. I mean, this meal is pretty dismal compared to the feasts you’re used to, but you never complain. Saying that, it doesn’t go unnoticed that when it’s on your dime, you’re far more willing to get a lemonade and a dessert. When it’s JJ paying, you say you’re happy with tap water and splitting a side. It’s mildly mortifying.

Lily is stood at the counter. “Ready to pay?”

“Tell me the damage,” is JJ’s reply.

“Twenty dollars thirty,” she says, punching buttons on the register.

JJ’s stomach twists. Fuck, he hopes his card doesn’t decline. She holds out the machine for him and he swipes his card.

“How long has that been going on then?” Lily asks.

JJ follows her gaze to you. You’re sat at the table, reapplying Dior lip gloss with an Armani compact mirror. He’s half convinced that if anything bought from Target touched your skin you might implode.

“Bout a month,” he says.

“Hm. Never took her as one to venture out of Figure Eight.”

“Never took you as one to judge random people,” JJ counters, anger ticking with her unneeded commentary.

“I’m just saying. She’s a Kook, JJ.”

“Did it go through?” he asks, cutting the conversation short.

Lily sighs, looking down at the card machine. Nodding, she goes to get his receipt. But before she hands it over, she feels the need to add, “just…maybe ask yourself what she’s getting out of this? Girls like that…They’re sneaky. Just, watch your back.”

JJ takes the receipt hastily and walks off before he can’t bite his tongue any longer. As much as it pisses him off to hear someone who doesn’t even know you talk like that, there was a sincerity to Lily’s voice that speaks to JJ’s insecurities. Massages them. It certainly doesn’t help that the minute JJ arrives back at the table, you ask, “did you have enough?”

JJ hates how the rest of the day, that one interaction – that one moment – at the Wreck keeps him disconnected from you. Anytime you ask what’s wrong, it’s the same excuse: ‘I’m just tired, s’all.’ But whenever there’s a second for thought, Lily’s voice echoes around his head.

Ask yourself what she’s getting out of this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How in the hell do you not get lost in this place?” JJ asks you as you wander through your house.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I grew up here.”

It’s laughable, the difference of JJ’s house to yours. He’s never taken you to his home; kept your dates and hangouts to the Chateau or the Twinkie, or anywhere but his house. He’s half-certain that you might just dip if you saw the state that he lives in. Plus, he can’t risk his dad showing up and meeting you. He’d hate you – the same way he hated most people – and again, you’d be gone in a second. In fact, as more time passes, JJ realises more and more that he’s got an eye on the door, waiting for you to walk through it without a second glance.

“You want some tea?” you ask. JJ shrugs his yes. He’s never tried it before but no time like the present, right?

You guide the two of you to the kitchen. As you pass by room after room, JJ nervously glances around. “So, uh…Your dad or mom home, or?”

“Relax, Maybank,” you grin. “They’re on a cruise. They don’t get back until Tuesday.”

“Oh, cool, cool. I mean, I ain't have been bothered if they were home.”

You bark out a laugh. Opening a kitchen cupboard, you talk as you retrieve two mugs. “Oh really? So you haven’t been avoiding my house like the plague because of my parents?”

JJ rolls his eyes. Busted. You go to heat up the water, grabbing two fruit tea bags and depositing them in each mug. JJ looks around the kitchen, searching for a certain dog. As if you can hear his thoughts, you say, “Ranger’s in the sunroom. If you call him, he’ll probably come.”

So, JJ does just that. Sure enough, Ranger trudges through the house and into the kitchen, tail wagging. He looks as if he’s just woken up from a nap. JJ grins, watching as his energy returns the moment he sets eyes on yourself and JJ, and the blonde-haired boy falls to his knees, arms outstretched. God, he missed this old fart of a dog.

“Why don’t you bring him along to the Chateau more?”

“Where would he ride? We always take your bike,” you laugh.

“Probably for the best, anyway. John B would definitely try and steal him,” JJ mumbles.

“Oh, and you wouldn’t?”

Insecurity picks at JJ like a scab. “What does that mean?”

You quirk a brow, unaware of the almost offence caused. “JJ, you would pick that dog over me in a heartbeat, if it came down to it.”

Of course. Of course you were talking about the dog, and not making some dig about his family reputation, or his sticky fingers. Shit, it’s like ever since that day at the Wreck, his insecurities had tripled in size and volume. Every time you looked at him, JJ wasn’t sure if you were passing judgement and he hated himself for it: for becoming so suspicious of you, when you’d done nothing to warrant it. But he couldn’t help it. It was like a reflex.

Once the tea is made and Ranger’s retired back in another sunny patch to sleep, the two of you head upstairs to your bedroom. JJ began to recount the story of the Grady White discovery and the Motel Room after the last hurricane’s end. He’s half certain that you don’t fully believe him.

“So, what did you find in the motel room?” you ask, pushing open your bedroom door.

“It was fucking crazy! Like a shit ton of money and this weird map. Oh, yeah, and…” JJ ditches his backpack by the foot of your bed and unzips it. Proud as a Superbowl jock, he presents the gun he stole. “This.”

Your mouth drops open. You place the two mugs of tea on your desk (on coasters, because of course) and reach out for it. JJ frowns and holds it out of your reach.

“Let me hold it.”

This reaction, out of all the reactions, was the one he expected the least. “No way.”

“Come on!”

“Nu-uh. You’ll shoot my dick off."

Rolling your eyes, you quip, “wouldn’t that be a gift for mankind? Come on!”

Sighing, he relents. Double checks the safety is on before passing the gun to you. You hold it like it’s a priceless artefact or a Louboutin heel (both as equal in value to yourself).

“It’s heavier than I thought,” you mumble, inspecting it.

Is it bad that JJ thinks you look unbelievably hot holding a gun right now? Probably. He can address that later in life when he eventually winds up in therapy.

“Yeah, these things are the shit,” JJ boasts, taking it back. He pretends to aim with it, gun pointed directly at one of your bears. At your scolding he puts it away again. “Anyway, now we got this dumb ass compass. JB thinks it’s got a clue in it, but I’m not so sure.”

JJ accepts the tea that you offer him as the two of you take perch on your bed, you at the foot and him at the head. You sit cross legged, nodding along to his tale, interested. JJ’s not entirely sure why he’s telling you this, especially when he was so adamant that the Pogues keep it on the down low, but something in him tells him that it’s okay for you to know. Useful, even, though he has no idea how. When he wraps up the story, he takes in your room. It’s just as he pictured it to be. Immaculately clean, psychopath level organised, decorated with brand after brand, China-white and pastel blue detailing every turn of the head. Looking back to you, he sniggers.

“You look like a witch right now.”

You take in the way you’re sitting and laugh, making a point to cradle your mug of tea between two hands. God, you’re adorable. The years of ballet have paid off: your back is straight as an arrow. The two of you sit in comfortable silence as you sip your tea. Outside, you can hear the sounds of nature pass by. There’s something understated and special about spending time with someone without feeling the need to fill the gaps. Just…existing. As JJ finishes his tea, you nod to his empty mug.

“Want me to read your tea leaves?” you ask.

JJ eyes you up, entertained. “No way you know how to do that.”

“Course I do. Here.”

You put your mug down on the windowsill and hold out a hand out for his. He passes you the empty mug and leans back against the cushioned headboard. Hell, if he had a bed like this, he’d never leave. You hum in deep contemplative thought as you look into the mug. Eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing, you study the scraps of tea leaves intently. JJ tries to stifle his laughs. It’s clearly a ploy. He can see right through the act.

“Ah, well…These are very good leaves,” you suddenly announce.

JJ plays along. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm. Yeah, yeah, I see a great fortune in your future,” you tell him. A glance up to his face, stupid grin on your lips, and then back to the mug. “Mhm. Yep, I see a…A boat.”

“Oh yeah? A Grady White by any chance?” JJ jests.

“Oh, no. This thing…It’s like the titanic. Big ship.”

“You have a way with words, princess.”

“And! A rainforest! And stones!”

“Alright, this tea’s gone to your head,” JJ laughs, reaching over for his mug.

You giggle as he takes it back, ditching it half-arsed on the bedside table so he can drag you to him by your forearms. Half tumbling forward, your hands ungainly catch yourself on his sturdy frame. You’re still laughing as he kisses you. JJ smiles against your mouth.

“I’m telling you,” you manage out through kisses and giggles. “You’re gonna be very fortunate in your future.”

“Mm, I’m fortunate now,” JJ replies, chasing your lips.

He uses a hand to hoist you further into his lap. You finally find purchase, a hand sliding along his neck, tantalisingly slow and smooth. As JJ’s lips creep along your jaw and inch down your neck, you lean your head, giving him more and more canvas to work with.

“I’m very lucky, you know,” you say, sounding short of breath.

JJ just hums. He continues his tapestry of love bites and kisses as you ramble on. He loves how soft it is with you; how there’s time for pause, for thought, for laughter. It’s the polar opposite to what he knows. Frenzied hands and sex in a timeframe. The patience of sex with you isn’t without heat, though. It isn’t like a married couple who can hardly remember what they liked about one another, chasing a high before drifting off to sleep. No, it’s like how people take time to pray. Like how musicians fawn over their music for hours, bit by bit, until perfection. So, JJ revels in your half-meaningful speech, slurred like you’re drunk despite being stone-cold sober, as he gently eases your cardigan off your shoulders.

“Every dance team I’ve been on, we’ve won…”

As JJ’s lips descend to your chest, you sigh. Fingers tightening just-so in his hair, spurring him on. One of his hands stays placed on your hip, a thumb rubbing circles on your exposed waist.

“Probably just ‘cause you’re a good dancer,” JJ mumbles against your skin.

“Not just that, though,” you muse. “I’m a good luck charm, I’m telling you. Nothing bad ever happens to the people around me. I’m lucky.”

Whatever you say, JJ thinks as he unhooks your bra. You help guide it off, sitting back against JJ’s thighs and lifting a perfectly manicured hand to his jaw. Your skin is soft like Mother of Pearl. Not a single cut or nick. Guiding his face up until his gaze meets yours, you lean down and press your lips to his. There’s no more laughter and no more silly stories. There’s no room in JJ’s brain to conjure anything other than thoughts of you. Your hair and your skin and your perfume and your nails and you. God, he wants to consume you. Breathe you in like vapour, soak you up like sunlight, feel you like the weather, all over him.

Nobody’s prettier than you.

Nobody prettier from this view, nestled between your thighs, almost suffocating as he swallows you up. More and more – insatiable. The distinct taste of you sits heavy on his tongue. It spurs him on like cocaine, energy unrelenting as he goes down on you. The sounds you make, the way you grab at him, grasp at the sheets, writhe and wriggle like it’s too much, like you can’t take it. But you can. Have before. Will again.

Your body bends to JJ’s will like water. You’re so trusting of him; have been ever since you met him. Let him take you how he wants, faithful in the pleasure he’ll give you. Usually JJ didn’t care much if girls thought him selfish in bed, but you? No, he needed you to give the mark of approval. He needed your praise, your validation, like his sex wouldn’t have meaning if you didn’t think it worthwhile. The way you fit around him; JJ swears to God it’s like you were made for him. He has you on your front, fucking you into the mountain of throw pillows that make up the head of your bed. He keeps your hips and ass angled upwards, holding you steady as he ruts into you over and over again. You’re a drooling, moaning mess underneath him. One of your hands is clenching and releasing the sheets much like your walls are to him. Having you like this – Christ, it makes JJ feel like a young God.

When you fall apart, it pushes JJ over the edge too, almost like a suicide pact. He’s not sure heroin could touch ecstasy quite like it. Drifting away on dopamine, JJ pulls out of you and flops onto his back, chest heaving. You shuffle atop of your sheets, curling up as you let the afterglow take over. JJ knows he should dote on you but he’s so tired and spent. After tying off and tossing the condom out in your bedroom trash, and tugging on his boxers, JJ lays back down on the bed beside you, flat on his back. One of your hands rests on his chest – damp with sweat. Just for a minute, JJ thinks. I’ll just close my eyes for one minute.

JJ tunes into the sensation of you stroking the bare skin of his back. It rouses him from sleep. Somehow, in his tiredness, he’d rolled over onto his front. Your sheets smell of fabric conditioner and safety. Goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets; a memory foam mattress that mimics what JJ might imagine falling asleep on a marshmallow to feel like.

“JJ?” You continue to run the side of your hand up and down his skin. "Are you awake?"

"No," he mumbles into the sheets.

“I want us to make this official.”

JJ groans sleepily. “Wha’dya mean?”

“I mean, I want us to put a label on this thing. I want to be your girlfriend, and I want you to be my boyfriend.”

It’s like the mattress has become a gaping wormhole and it’s sucking him in. That very thing that he was drawn to, entranced with, that very thing that he was learning and dreading to be true, every little insecurity and anxiety that had built and built since the second date…It’s all arriving at once, hitting him hard and fast like a meteor strike. 

JJ turns his head, looking up at you. You’re watching him patient, a giddy-type smile on your face, slightly disquieted with nerves.

“Well…How do you know that?”

Brows furrowing, your smile doesn’t move. Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know…I just know. I…I know it because I feel it.”

Those words do nothing to ease the panic that’s building up JJ’s body. He shuffles until he’s sat upright, staring you down like you’re something dangerous. For some reason, your innocent request feels like a trap to him. A con. A joke that he’ll be the unwilling punchline of if he agrees. And he realises what that impending feeling was, all this time. It was him waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Lucy’s point to come true and for the curtains to be pulled. To find out what the hell you wanted with him.

“You can’t just say things like that. That’s a really messed up thing to say to someone,” JJ mutters, moving away from you.

You’re frowning now, befuddled. “Why is it? It’s true, and it’s how I feel. I want to make us official. I want us to be together.”

“Well, you’re saying that now but what about if we do get together, and I meet your parents and your friends, and you realise how different we are but you feel like you’re stuck with me, and then all of it was for nothing.”

Face the picture of perplexed, your mouth contorts into something ugly. “Where is all of this coming from? What did you think we were doing? I mean, we’ve been fine this past month and I know that there’s something between us.”

“How do you?”

“Because I’m not stupid, JJ,” you sharply reply.

Good, JJ thinks. You’re getting angry. You’ll lose your temper and you’ll let something slip that you weren’t supposed to, and he can bolt without a muddied conscience. He moves away from the bed and starts grabbing his strewn-about clothes in a frenzy to bolt. 

“If there’s something between us, why haven’t I met any of your friends yet?”

You stare at him. He takes your hesitation as confirmation to his doubts. Pointing accusingly at you, he snarls, “because you’re embarrassed of me. You’re embarrassed to be seen with a Pogue-nobody from the Cut, in front of your Kook friends.”

“What is your obsession with me being a Kook!?” you exclaim. “Have you ever noticed how I never bring it up? How it’s always you, JJ, talking about it.”

“Well, I feel like I ought'a!”

“Why!?” you vociferate. 

“Because what the hell do you want with me anyway!? You’re going to mess around with me for the summer, and get your kicks, and rebel against dear-old daddy, and then ditch me for some Kook jackass, who you’ll marry and he’ll take you on ski trips and summer’s in the Hamptons, and send your snotty children to expensive summer camps, and then you’ll laugh with all your trust-fund friends about how you went slumming once too.”

With that narrative, you laugh in disbelief, mystified. “What kind of fucking story are you spinning?”

“One that’s based on nothing but the facts,” JJ shouts. He’s shaking and angry, but it’s just his panic in disguise. He saw a glimpse of happiness with you and instinctively wanted to smash it up, like a psychopath child and a harmless butterfly.  “I mean, you said it yourself - you wanted to do what you’re not supposed to do, for a change. Have a taste of rebellion and then go back to your rich-ass bubble wrap.”

JJ’s seen you possessive before. He’s seen you jealous, and scared, and snippy. But he’s never seen you angry. It’s horrifying. 

“Did it ever occur to you that all of that has nothing to do with you? Has nothing to do with you being a Pogue, or me being a Kook?” you yell. Hands flying up to your chest, holding on like your heart might fall out of your skeleton, your voice turns thick. “I was miserable JJ! I was never allowed to do anything; never allowed to go anywhere. I did what my parents told me to do. I went to bed by nine every night. I was wasting my time with all these fucking after-school extra-circulars which I don’t even care about! I hate ballet! I hate piano! Christ, I hate all of it! And my friends are fake as anything. They say one thing to my face, and come to my house for pool parties, and then bitch about me behind my back! They’re assholes, JJ! So, yeah, I didn’t want to waste my time introducing you to them because I don’t actually like them!”

His lips start to quiver uncomfortably as he watches you unravel. It’s like JJ was pulling and pulling on a spring, and now he has to stand and watch it snap.

Make-up free, hair still tousled from earlier, oversized t-shirt half hanging off your frame: there’s no Kook defining thing about you here. It’s just you - just as it always had been. 

JJ’s heart cracks as a tear falls down your cheek. With a shaky breath, in a quiet, defeated voice, you tell him, “I wanted to go out with you because I wanted to live. Because most of the time, I feel so useless and so alone that I wonder if I’m even here at all.” 

And hearing you say that finally allows the curtain to fall. Only, it revealed to JJ something entirely different to what he expected. To what he’d told himself time and time again. Seeing you cry on your bed because of him…JJ’s made some real big mistakes in his life, but this one surpasses them all. 

“So don’t put your shit on me because you’re the one that’s afraid,” you say, stealing yourself as you aggressively wipe your eyes. JJ’s narrow. It’s like poking a searing hot skewer into his most tender of wounds. 

“Afraid? What do I have to be afraid of?”

“You’re afraid of me! You’re afraid that I won’t love you back! You’re afraid of what all the shallow people in the County will think! You know what, JJ? I’m afraid too! But fuck it - I want to give a try!”

It feels as exposing as having you peel back his skin. JJ pulls on his t-shirt and shakes his head, turning for the bedroom door, mumbling something about ‘I’m not doing this right now.’ 

You dart from the bed and grab at his arm, stopping him. “No. No, you’re not leaving,” you blubber. 

JJ yanks out of your grip, turning around, lashing out like a stray animal approached all too quick. “What do you wanna know!” He yells. You recoil. “What? That I don’t have a great life? That I’m jealous of how you live compared to me! That I don’t want you to see how I really live because I’m ashamed shitless of it!”

You’re crying, hard, but JJ can’t find it in himself to stop. Why won’t he stop? The butterfly is dead, wings torn from the body, antenas shattered from the beating: but it’s like he doesn’t even want dust to remain. 

“That my dad beats the shit out of me, so I sleep at John B’s house!? That I’ll probably end up in a prison cell or an early grave!? You ain't wanna hear that shit! Don’t tell me you want to hear that shit!”

“I do want to hear that stuff! I do want to hear it!” you argue through your sobs. You lift your hands as if you might try and cup his face. “I just want to help you.”

He retracts from your almost-there hold. “Help me! What the fuck! What, do I got a fucking sign on my back that says Save Me?”

“No!”

“Do I look like I need that!?”

Reaching for him again, tears streaming, you wail, “no! God, I just want to be with you because I love you!” 

JJ grabs at your wrists, driving you away from him, driving you towards the door until your back presses against it, all the while yelling at you. Don’t bullshit me! Don’t fucking bullshit me! 

JJ’s never been lucky to have good things. He waits for his friends to get up and leave. Knows his dad will too, one day, just like his ma. He’ll end up alone, drunk, high, and not long after, dead. You? You’re just a glitch in his programming. A girl who saw a project - yeah, that’s it. A girl who saw a project, a thing to fix, and the moment you have will be the moment that you get bored, and leave him broken hearted and alone. JJ knows more than anyone: you’ve got to leave before you get left. 

But as you’re standing with your back against the wall, you don’t cower from him. Don’t wait for him to land a hit on you. Always so trusting. And seeing you, crying, sobbing, begging for him to listen to you, repeating that you love him over and over…JJ knows you’re not the malicious enemy he’s created in his mind. He knows you’re not. 

“I want you to tell me that you don’t love me." A shuddering breath, trying to calm your quivering voice. “Because, if you do, I won’t call you anymore. And I won’t be in your life…”

And JJ’s never been good at admitting when he’s wrong. Maybe he learnt it from his dad. Maybe it’s a defensive mechanism. Maybe it’s dumb, childish youth that he never outgrew. So, as you sob, waiting for him to say something - to say you love him - JJ feels his face turn to stone. Cold, emotionless stone.

“I don’t love you.”

He grabs the rest of his shit in one quick sweep and he leaves your bedroom before he has to see the long-lasting damage he once again inflicted on someone. Slams the door. Rushes down the stairs. Passes the barking Ranger, alarmed by all the yelling, and dresses as he stumbles to the front door. In the air of the driveway, he takes a gasping breath, cringing with melancholic agony. Panic rises in his chest like a fist is clenching around his heart, over and over. He raises a hand, rubbing at the uncomfortable pain. JJ knows this feeling well. Knows it from childhood and from adolescence. Knows it almost as much as he knows breathing. 

Heartbreak.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ distracted himself with drinking, smoking and treasure hunting. Indulged at night and diverted throughout the day to avoid any thoughts of you. He was lucky, in a way, that his friends were there to keep him busy. They only asked once why he wasn’t seeing you anymore, wondering why you were never around, and learnt their lesson never to ask again. He tried to hide behind the lie that he’d so easily told himself: that you were a spoilt-bitch Kook who would have ditched him soon anyway. But he remembers your voice and your face clear as day, begging for him to tell you that he loved you. He can picture all too easily your reaction the minute he stepped away from you, after telling the worst lie of his life. 

Throwing himself into work was a good distraction. It’s hard to think about you when he’s thinking about how heavy the motor is that he’s lugging, or how close he’s cutting it on time to deliver groceries with Pope. His hurt made him wreckless, like he deserved whatever bad thing might come. You were good karma for returning Ranger and his mistreatment was bound to be paid back to him by the universe. Maybe that was why he’d been so eager to exact revenge on Topper and Rafe. Their attack on Pope certainly made it easier for JJ to handle his hurt when he was reminded of how awful most Kooks are. It was almost possible to group you in with them, to help mitigate the sting of guilt that came whenever your name crossed his mind. Almost. 

But, like always, the consequences of his actions were bound to catch up to him. So, as JJ sits beside Pope and Kiara watching the outdoor movie play under the watchful gaze of Topper, Rafe and Kelce, he knows bad things are coming.

“JJ,” Pope says, nudging his leg. 

“What?”

“Gotta take a piss.”

JJ’s leg is quivering with building adrenaline. “Hold it.”

“I can’t hold it. I drank too much soda.”

“It’s too exposed, they’ll totally see us,” JJ argues. 

“I gotta go,” Pope insists. 

JJ purses his lips and glances back over his shoulder the same time Pope turns around. Their eyes land on the three pissed off Kooks, sat like mob bosses, biding their time. They might as well be smoking a pipe and stroking their one-eyed cat like some '50s Bond villain. 

“They’re blocking the bathrooms,” Pope observes. 

Yeah, no shit. JJ looks around, noticing the woodland behind the giant projection screen. “Alright, come here. I know where.” 

The two of them get to their feet, hunching over as they go to move. When Kiara asks where they’re going, JJ shrugs and tells her, ‘we gotta ring it out.’ With that, they venture to the screen and relieve themselves just behind it, out of view, into the shrubs. As they piss, Pope and JJ banter. JJ finishes first, zipping up his fly and turning around to keep watch. 

“You bring the peacemaker?” Pope asks, referring to JJ’s beloved gun. 

His stomach drops. “Oh, shit, I forgot it.”

“You forgot it?”

“Hurry up! Hurry up!”

“Dude, you had one job. That’s all I asked you to do, man,” Pope complains as he finishes up.  

“I know, let’s go,” JJ quickly replies. The moment he turns, JJ comes face to face with Rafe. Fuck. 

“What’s up Pogues?”

“What’s up, Rafe?” JJ casually replies, walking backwards with Pope as Rafe approaches steadfast. He won’t let on that he’s scared - learnt that from his dad. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

As Pope tries to make a run for it, Topper emerges, Kelce in tow. “Hey that was some nice work you did on my boat!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Pope fumbles.

JJ assesses the situation. Three on two. Pope isn’t the strongest fighter. No gun. Yeah, the odds are not stacked in their favour. 

“Not so burly without a gun now, are you?” Rafe taunts. 

JJ’s jaw ticks, his anger rising with his annoyance. The adrenaline is pumping and working its usual magic. Bring it on, pussy. I can take a few licks - it’s my birth-right. 

“Take one more step and I’ll rip that prepubescent face off,” JJ warns through clenched teeth. He watches as Topper approaches Pope leisurely. 

“Hey Pope, do you feel good about yourself, stealing shit? Is your mom proud of you? Is your dad proud of you?”

Pope slams his head into Topper’s upper chest and pride swills through JJ. “Attaboy! Attaboy!” He grabs his friend’s shoulder, lifting his clenched fist. “Now with your fist, see?”

With that, Rafe claims him. They begin to get in a dust-up. JJ takes the first few punches; each one that lands on his cheek brings searing hot pain that quickly vanishes with shock. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. He taps into the pit inside of him, deep and angry and bitter. His self-hatred, for all the shit he put you through, for all the shit his dad and mom pegged on him…Throws his own punches, then. Wrestles too. Blood begins to draw. Lips crack open. Eyebrows split. But then it’s two on one: Kelce grabbing at him, holding him steady so Rafe can just lay into him. JJ’s winded as Rafe’s fist meets his stomach. He collapses in Kelce’s hold as Rafe right hooks him. And every hit, JJ takes like it’s his earnt punishment. 

“Come on, Rafe,” JJ provokes through the agonising pain. “That all you got?”

“Let go of him Topper! You fascist asshole!” 

Kiara. She helps Pope first, hitting Topper with JJ’s backpack. At least, that’s what JJ sees through the double vision. The backpack. The gun. Topper grabs it off her and tosses it, and then JJ’s too busy getting the shit beaten out of him to see what follows. It’s all just noise. Blends almost cinematically with the sound of the old-timey movie playing. At some point, it even sounds like there’s a dog barking. Blood fills his mouth like he’s at some sadistic dentist surgery. Pain numbs his nerve endings and softens his muscles. Air becomes a rarity as he’s held in a headlock, half-strangled. 

“Let go of them right now!”

Everyone goes still. JJ only notices because he finally has a second to catch his breath, gasping as the arm around his throat loosens just slightly. He opens his eyes, desperate to get his vision steady, and…no fucking way. 

There you stand like some designer vigilante heroine. Hair perfect, as always, with not a strand out of place; jewellery to the nines; make-up enhancing your gorgeous features. In your hand, clasped between perfectly manicured nails, is JJ’s gun. It’s pointed directly at Rafe’s forehead. 

Rafe laughs. “What? That supposed to scare me or something?”

You grit your teeth, harden your stare, and remain stoic and strong in your stance. Rafe just quirks a brow, a sick smile twisting upwards. 

“Oh, what, you’re gonna be the hero here? Why don’t you just run back to your daddy and mind your own fucking business?”

“Let. Them. Go.”

JJ realises then that Ranger is standing by your side. He’s growling, looking feral like Cujo, salivating at the mouth, death-glare set on Kelce who still holds JJ in a headlock. Your command and Kelce might lose a leg. 

“What’s it to you?” Topper snaps. 

“They’re my friends.”

Okay, no, JJ must have fucking blacked out or something. In the brain damage caused by Rafe, he’s seeing things. You’re his own guardian angel that his dying brain has conjured - that is the only explanation. 

All of the Kooks laugh. “Your friends?”

“I won’t ask you again,” you darkly warn, not a spit of humour in your voice. 

Rafe whistles lowly. He mockingly raises his hands to his head in surrender. Shares a laugh with Topper and Kelce. It vanishes the minute you unclip the safety. 

“You wouldn’t,” Rafe tells you. 

Slowly, maleficently, the faintest shadow of a smirk forms on your lip-glossed mouth. “You really want to test that theory?”

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how JJ Maybank ended up in the most insane predicament of his life. Nobody knows what you’re going to do next: not JJ, and probably not even you. As JJ waits, his eyes dart down to Ranger. The very thing that started all of this. 

Rafe sniffs. He juts his head at Kelce. When Kelce finally lets JJ go, Topper does the same with Pope. Kiara helps Pope up. JJ leans over, hands on his knees, coughing and gasping in air. 

“You’re gonna regret this, you know that? Better keep a fucking eye out, princess,” Rafe warns you as he saunters away with his posse. If JJ wasn’t on the brink of passing out, he’d lay him out for even looking at you.

The minute the three Kooks round the screen, acting as if nothing even happened, you drop the gun on the backpack and race over to JJ. It’s hard not to flinch after his moments-before assault when you clutch his shoulders. He realises that you’re shaking. Hears in the quiver of your voice how shit-scared you are. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

No and no. 

“Do you need to sit down? What should I–”

No, definitely don’t sit down. 

“Come on - we need to go,” Kiara tells you. She has Pope’s weight on her.

You seem to copy, taking her guidance from her years of experience with hanging with the guys, and guide JJ away from the scene of the crime. You grab the backpack as you go, the gun shoved inside (safety now on). Ranger licks anxiously at JJ’s hand, whining in worry. 

“I’m alright, boy,” JJ lies to the dog in a slur.

swirling, becoming blacker and blacker with every step. His body is screaming for rest and reprieve. He vaguely overhears you tell Kie where you’re parked. Lets you half-drag him to your ride. The minute JJ’s helped into the backseat, safe in the smell of you, he blacks out. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first thing JJ notices when he wakes up is how much his head hurts. There’s a headache above his brows, similar to that which you get when hungover. It feels like his brain was a ping pong ball, rattled around in there for hours on end. Sniffing, he groans as he tries to sit up. There’s a hand pushing him back down to the bed gently. 

“Just lie still, for now,” you say softly. “No sudden movements, okay?” 

JJ groans again, eyes pressed shut. At the sensation of a straw pressing against his lips, he drinks. 

“Open your mouth,” you say after he swallows. JJ does as he’s told, in too much pain to argue. You give him a few pills - presumably painkillers - and help him chase them with water. “I’ll be right back.”

JJ must fall back asleep. When he comes to for the second time, the pain in his head is significantly lessened, as are all the general aches and pains of his body. He dreads the idea of looking in a mirror: he’s probably black and blue. Saying that, it’s not like it’s an unfamiliar state to him. Opening his eyes, he immediately recognises your bedroom. As if on cue, you walk through the door, a mug of what must be steaming hot tea in hand. When your eyes meet his, a relieved smile comes to your face. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he rasps. 

Making your way over, tea deposited on the bedside table, you take the seat next to him. Shit, no wonder he was sleeping so well. Your bed is like sponge cake. 

“How you feeling?”

“Like shit,” JJ grunts. You stifle a laugh. Shifting to sit up, his brows furrow as last night comes back to him, piece by piece. “Did I…Was I hallucinating, or did you save our ass?”

“Mmm, I might have maybe just saved your ass,” you innocently reply. 

Shaking his head, JJ rubs tiredly at his face. 

“I’m not even going to ask what Rafe and his gang of fairies were angry about.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the best idea,” JJ cringes. 

He finally braves holding your gaze. There’s a distance there - a reluctance to be fully present - and JJ knows it’s because of him. 

“That was really ballsy, what you did,” he tells you. 

“It's nothing,” you quietly reply. 

“You’re probably going to lose your Kook card now.”

“Never liked it that much in the first place,” you say with a half-smile. 

JJ silently laughs, shaking his head, mesmerised. He was so wrong about you. About all of it. “I was, uh...kind of a dick to you.”

“Yeah…”

“And…you were right,” he mumbles. 

Brows lifting slightly, a small, amused smile teases your lips. “What was that sorry?”

“You were right,” he repeats, no louder. 

Leaning in, a finger to your ear, you say, “one more time, I didn't quite catch it.”

“Fuck off,” JJ groans, shoving you away with hardly any force.

You snort out a laugh. The moment the humour passes, you look back to him. He feels as though he can hear your thoughts. Your anger and annoyance and insecurity and pain. He hears it all in the emotion swimming through your eyes. So, he nods.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, JJ,” you whisper. 

One of his hairs falls into his face. Before he can react, you’re leaning forward, brushing it out the way. JJ captures your wrist quickly, keeping you near, almost panicked that if you move even a millimetre away, he’ll lose you forever. In that same frenzy, desperate to have you close, he forces out the three words he’s never let himself say to anyone. Ever. 

“I love you.”

Face an exact replica of the one you made that day on the beach, you blink at him. Once, then twice. JJ nods again. 

“I just…I can’t…It doesn’t…”

“I know,” you say, forehead bumping against his own as you lean down. Then, in a whisper, you add, “I know. It’s okay.”

JJ sniffs, suddenly overcome with emotion, and nods against you. As his eyes press shut, you kiss him. It’s slightly salty with tears but no less welcome. He winces as your hand cups his jaw. Kisses you through your mumbled apology against his lips.

And as the two of you kiss, JJ realises that this was all it ever had to be. It was never that complicated, never that layered, because all that mattered was you. Wonderfully, princess-perfect, Kook-turned-Pogue you. 

want more? read the sequel to risk here!

[pankowblues]

Caught

not proofread

idea from @gh0stsp1d3r

summary - your Rafe's sister dating JJ and get caught

warnings - getting burnt, use of y/n, use of babe

A Pogue and kook together are not something you see every day in outer banks. Aka you and JJ. You're currently at your house and you and JJ are making candles out of the shell's you guys found on the shore this morning.

‘“Are you sure your brother doesn't know I’m here?” Jj says.

“Yes, JJ I’m sure, are you sure the Pogue's don’t know you’re here”

“Yes, babe I'm sure”

“Pass me the lighter I need to light this candle for the wax now”

He passes you the lighter and after I light it we just sit down on my bed, talk, and wait.

“JJ can you pass me that pencil it's right above the candle be careful”

You go back to doing what you were doing until you hear a fucking girly ass scream. And of course, I look up to find JJ holding his wrist most likely trying to cool the burn down.

“JJ, I told you to be careful and also shut up my brother will hear your dumbass!”

And right on cue Rafe walks on

“What was th- what the fuck is this fucking Pogue doing in here!” and goes stomping towards him. But before he does, I grab his shoulders and stop him and give him a look to stop which surprisingly he does.

“‘Y/N/N I swear to go I'll beat his ass if you don't tell me what he is doing here”

“Long story short, me and JJ have been dating for 3 months and before you say anything he treats me perfectly fine and money is not a problem in this relationship and we also have hid it perfectly from you until JJ had to burn himself and well now we're here” making an oops face after I'm done speaking.

“So you've been dating a pogue.”

“No fucking shit did’nt I just say that and theres really no problem with that”

He points to JJ and says “Hey Pogue I swear to god if you do anything to her, I’ll kill you” JJ backs up closer to me with his hands up in surrender. You grab Rafe’s arm and lead him out the door and you shut the door on him but not before he can shout “I’ll talk to you about this later!”. You roll your eyes and walk back to JJ and you two stare at each other and you look down at him holding his wrist and you two burst out laughing from everything. You treat the burn and you two finish making the candles but keeping JJ away from the fire and he leaves that night so it's not too suspicious for the Pogue's. Rafe couldn't be too mad because I am his sister. Now wait until the Pogue's find out…

[emilyssky]

War Of Hearts // JJ Maybank

PAIRING: JJ Maybank! x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

GENRE(S): smut, angst, fluff, fuck buddies to lovers

WARNINGS: smut [ praise, degradation, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex, choking, slapping, spanking] , mentions of violence, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of alcohol, smoking. Jealous and protective JJ !

Author's note:Wrote this last night after finishing season 3, hope you’ll like it :)

SUMMARY: 

You and JJ have been messing around for a few months now until you try to cut it off because of your growing feelings for him that you think are one sided. A series of unfortunate events bring you face to face with unexpected fear and your relationship with JJ when you get caught up in their treasure hunt. 

I've always loved summer. Something about the warm weather, the sun, the ocean, and the salt on my skin made me feel alive. For the most part, I loved my life in ΟΒΧ. Some would say that I was born blessed, that I got both sides of the coin with my mom being a pogue and my dad being a kook but it feels mostly like a curse to me. My whole life I've never been fully accepted by either side. I wasn't t rich and snobby enough for the Kooks and never wild and spontaneous enough for the Pogues. It's not like I was on bad terms with anyone, everyone was friendly enough but ever since I could remember I felt left out, never having real friends. And if I'm being honest, it wasn't the kooks that I was jealous of, something about the pogue life pull me in. It seemed exciting and freeing in a way. When my mom married my dad and had me she knew that she wanted me to grow up knowing both sides. She wanted to offer me the chance to be the one to choose where I belong. She's big on following your heart and dreams and always told me growing up that I'll find my way and that if I follow my gut, the choice is gonna be pretty easy. We lived in Figure 8 but my mom opened a cafe on the south side, wanting to keep in touch with that side of her life. My life is a series of the same things over and over again. I like spending time alone, if I'm not at school or working my shift at the cafe, I'll probably be by the beach, reading or surfing. Sometimes I will go on boat rides with my dad or steal the keys and go by myself. It's not often that I will hang out with the Kooks, in fact, Sarah Cameron is probably the only person that I would voluntarily hang out with and actually enjoy it. And when it comes to the Pogues, everyone knows that it's just Kie and her boys. I'm friendly with all of them, occasionally have chat with or enjoy the waves together but that's about it.

Today is a day exactly like any other; I finished school and came straight to the cafe. It was not too crowded, with only a few regular customers enjoying their usual cup of coffee. I was behind the counter, cleaning the coffee machines, making sure everything was full and ready until I heard them. It's the group of kids that you hear before you see. John B enters first, pushing his long brown hair back as he laughs at something Pope is saying. I like John B, we share a lot in common and have nice conversations from time to time. He's a really fun and social person but this year was a rough one for him. His dad went missing almost a year ago, many people consider him dead by now but John B will not accept it, he still thinks he's alive, somewhere lost at sea. My mom and his dad were close back in the day before she met my dad and moved to figure 8. We used to play together when we were young up until he met his current best friends. My dad offered him a few jobs involving our boat and at the cafe, after Big John disappeared so I've been seeing him around more lately. Pope and Kiara follow right behind him. Me and Kie used to be close, but now our relationship has changed into a few talks here and there, I still consider her one of my closest friends though. Pope is fun. He's one of the few people that talks to me normally and always makes me feel comfortable at social events or parties. And lastly, my favourite pogue follows. JJ Maybank. Me and JJ have an interesting relationship. Teasing, flirting, bickering, that's his speciality with every girl in the Outer Banks, kook or pogue but sometimes I like to think that he actually enjoys my company. He was always the one I was looking forward to see but today he's the one I'm trying to avoid and have been trying for the past 2 weeks. His blue eyes find mine the minute he walks through the door, and a smirk spreads across his face.

"Hey, Y/n" John B greets me, reaching the counter.

"I'm not serving you free coffee." I immediately shake my head, knowing exactly what they want.

"Oh, come on." He frowns his thick brows, fake pouting.

I let a small chuckle at his attempt. "How many times do you think it will take for my mum to notice?"

"One more?" He offers, lifting his shoulders.

I scoff, shaking my head again.

"Come on, your mum loves me anyway." He presses.

"Yeah, but my dad not so much."

JJ places his elbows on the counter, right next to John B, and I immediately look down, continuing cleaning the coffee machine like I was doing before they came in.

"What if I'm the one asking?" He says, leaning in with that playful smile of his that I know all too well.

"Then it's defiantly a no." I fake a tight smile.

"Why so grumpy today princess?" He places a hand over his heart.

I roll my eyes and turn back to John B. He brings his palms together, begging me silently.

I sigh. "This is the last time." I point my finger at both of them.

"Yes!" They high-five each other.

"I'll bring it over." I wave them off.

I lift my eyes to his only for a second, catching the wink he sends my way as he follows John B to their usual table where Kie and Pope are seated.

I quickly fix up 4 iced coffees and walk over to them.

"Here you go."

"You're the best." John B touches my side lightly.

"You're coming next Saturday right?" Kie asks reaching for her coffee.

"What's next Saturday?" I question placing the last coffee on the table.

"We're throwing a party on the beach. It's gonna be fun." Pope explains.

"You're coming." JJ states without looking my way.

"I'll see." I nod at Kie with a small smile before leaving them to it. I walk back to the safety of my counter feeling his eyes burning on my back. The parties here at obx were always good. It's the one time that Kooks and Pogues can coexist in one place without jumping on each other's throats. Well, sometimes at least. It's fun nevertheless, all of us drinking and dancing by the beach forgetting our responsibilities and problems for a little while. I stay behind the counter, doing any task possible to distract myself but anytime I let my gaze fall his way, he's already looking.

"Thanks for the coffee Y/n." John B waves at me as they leave about an hour later.

"See you at the party cupcake." He brings two fingers to his forehead.

"Maybe." I shrug, walking to their table to clean up.

"You know I'll be miserable without you." He yells already out the door.

.  .  .  .

I don't usually work on Fridays, so after school, you'll probably find me at the beach if I'm not locked in my room. I enjoy my alone time. Riding the waves, sitting under the sun with a good book, or drawing in my sketchbook. Today my mind felt a little heavier, so I took my time, and before I knew it the sun began setting. I quickly throw my bag over my shoulder and begin to make my way back, realising that it's almost dinner time. I silently curse at myself for not riding my bike to the beach cause the walk back to Figure 8 seems dreadful. My ears perk up catching the sound of a motorcycle approaching with speed and I close my eyes hoping that it's not him but when I hear the motorcycle slowing down I know that my hope is not coming true. He stops beside me and I stop walking, turning to look at him. His hair is pushed back by the wind, he's wearing a simple white t-shirt with grey cargo pants, and his face is as pretty as always. My eyes narrow a little as I spot a bruise over his right cheekbone and it doesn't take long before I spot all the different marks and scars across his face.

He still forces a smug smile on his lips, ignoring my staring. "Having an afternoon surfing session princess?"

"What happened?" My eyes can't stop studying his face.

"Oh, you know the Kooks had it coming." He shrugs, masking his face perfectly like he always does but I know better.

"JJ." I trail off, my stomach tightening knowing exactly where he got these injuries from.

His jaw tightens. "It's nothing' Y/n. Same old, same old." I shake my head, in disgust. I can't even stand the thought that his dad walks around the OBX freely. He's such a piece of shit. "Get on the bike." He nods behind him.

"It's fine, I'll walk." I tilt my chin.

He scoffs with a smirk. "When will you stop with this whole act you’re putting on?" He waves his hand around.

I change the weight from my right to my left leg, crossing my arms. "I don't know what you're talking about." I keep my face expressionless, ignoring the way his beaten face cause my heart to tighten.

His eyebrows come together and his gaze shifts, dropping the playful act. "You're ignoring me." He states.

I'm trying.

I avoided his eyes cause I know that the more I look at them the weaker I get. It happens every time, I say that I'm gonna stand my ground and then I find myself beside him regardless.

"Look," He clears his throat, eyes moving everywhere. A weird expression takes over his features and I immediately know that he feels uncomfortable. "I don't care why you're pushing me away but can you stop ignoring me for a few hours?" He struggles to speak the words and that makes me a little warm inside. I glance at his bruised face once more, remembering all the times he came to me after his fights with his father. All the long talks we would have in order to get his mind off of it or the times I would sneak him through my window to treat his injuries.

I sigh and silently climb behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I feel him chuckle. "Just so you know, we're just talking."

"Sure." I can't see his face but I bet he's grinning.

He took his time, driving aimlessly around the streets of OBX. I don't mind though, I know him enough to know that it helps him clear his head, so I stay silent resting my head against his back and enjoying the ride. The sun has set and the night breeze tingles my skin in the best way. I notice that he takes the familiar route to my house.

"Are your parents home?" He yells, looking behind his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think."

"We'll have to be quiet then." He clicks his tongue.

"Like that has stopped you before." I smile against his shoulder.

"True." He glances at me again, the corners of his mouth lifting.

He parks his bike a block down from my house and he walks quietly around the back while I go from the front door.

"Hey, honey." My mom yells from the kitchen at the sound of the door opening.

"Hey, mom." I enter the kitchen, sneaking my arms around her waist while she chops some cucumbers, preparing a salad for dinner.

"Dinner will be ready soon." She smiles.

"Oh, I'm not hungry, I already ate." I brush her off, walking to the fridge.

"It smells amazing dear." My dad enters the kitchen, dropping his keys on the kitchen table.

My mom flashes a smile at my dad before turning back to me. "When did you eat?"

"I hung out with Kie by the beach and we had some sandwiches."  I quickly make up an excuse, grabbing a water bottle and closing the fridge.

"Just Kiara?" My dad lifts an eyebrow.

"Yes dad," I sigh.

"Honey." My mom scolds him.

"What?" He lifts his shoulders. "I'm sorry that I don't want my daughter hanging around boys that smoke weed, get drunk, and steal shit on the daily."

"Mark." She glares at him.

"They're not stealing anything, dad." I narrow my eyes, sick of him attacking them all the time. "They're not like that, you don't know them."

"Well, some of them are." He continues and I know exactly who he's referring to.

"You're wrong" I shake my head, lifting my hands. " and you're not gonna tell me who I can and can't hang out with." I walk past him shooting him a glare and head up the stairs.

"Y/n." I hear my mom yell but I ignore her and hurry into my room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

JJ's shoulder is rest against the open window, arms crossed in front of him with an unreadable expression. I drop my gaze to the floor, walking to sit on my bed and placing the bottle on my nightstand, feeling a little ashamed for the way my dad spoke about him and his friends.

"I'm sorry for my dad." I feel the need to say.

He moves to sit next to me, forcing a tight smile on his lips. "It's fine, we all know his opinion about the south side."

I move my head, trying to get a better look at him. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah princess you don't have to worry about me." The nickname tugs at my heart almost as much as his smile.

I reach to touch his hair, pushing them back and toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck. "You know you can talk to me."

His eyes twitch with suppressed emotion, his jaw set with eyebrows frowned. "I know."  I offer him a small smile, not moving my hand. "Can you, like, talk to me?" He asks. His eyes are screaming even though he manages to keep his expression under control. "I want you to take my mind off things, just talk to me about anything." His tone is almost begging.

I bring my knees to my chest, wrap my arms around them and turn to face him. 'What do you wanna know about this time? My weird obsession with serial killer documentaries, my views on feminism, or if I put the milk or cereal first?"

His face breaks into the first real smile today and I feel a little proud. He shakes his head lightly, his eyes not leaving mine before he pulls me by the neck, smashing his lips to mine. It's like all the pain he carries and all the words he desperately wants to say are spoken by the way he moves his lips hungrily against mine. The softness of his mouth contrasts his rough breathing as his hands hold my face, pulling me closer to him. His small groan that echoes through the room and the feeling of his tongue brushing over mine snaps me back to reality.

"Jay," I whimper, pushing at his chest lightly.

His lips leave mine but our foreheads stay together. "I'm sorry." He mumbles, inhaling short, sharp breaths.

My fingers trace his bruises and my stomach twists even at the thought of how his dad created them. I hate how he grew up having to hide all this pain and I hate how he's being treated. "I don't want you to go back to him tonight." I whisper and his eyes snap to mine. "Stay with me."

His face finally breaks, and the emotion in his eyes overtakes his whole expression.

"But we're just sleeping," I lean back, pointing my finger at him. "and you'll have to leave before my parents wake up."

His eyes water a bit but a grin paints his lips as he wraps his arms around me, pushing me back to the bed.

A giggle escapes me. Damn him.

. . . . . . . .

"I'm going with Topper." Sarah touches up her already perfect makeup.

"Ugh." I groan. "What do you even see in him?" I scrunch up my nose. Sarah is the only kook that I can stand to hang out with. And the only Cameron I actually like.

"He's nice." She rolls her eyes at me, holding up two dresses, one yellow and one blue. "Stop being a bitch to him. Which one?"

I tilt my head." The yellow one obviously."

"What are you wearing?" She questions while peeling off her clothes and changing into the short yellow dress.

"I don't know if I want to go." I lay back down on her king-size bed.

"Come on, you love parties. Is it that you don't wanna go or that you don't wanna see a certain someone?" She wiggles her brows at me.

"I'm just not in the mood." I shrug, looking away but she sees right through me.

"Yeah right." She chuckles. "Cut the shit and get dressed." She throws a black shirt on me.

. . . . . 

The beach is full of people, kooks, and pogues dancing, drinking, and having fun. Big barrels of beer everywhere, stands with bottles of alcohol and hundreds of red cups here and there. It's not even midnight and everyone is already wasted. Most of the girls are in their bikinis by now, dancing like there's no tomorrow on top of giant rocks. The minute we enter the party, I go straight for the beer, pouring myself a cup. My eyes silently search the crowd for any sight of his fluffy, blonde hair, or of any of his friends. I spot Kie and Pope taking shots with a few other people and John B just a few meters again, flirting with a blonde girl but he's nowhere to be found.

"Looking for someone?" Rafe says close to my ear, catching me off guard and making me flinch away. He smiles at my reaction.

"What are you doing here?" He's one of the people that rarely joins things like this. He and his friends really don't get along with the pogues, unlike me and Sarah. I try my best to limit my contact with Rafe, Topper, and the rest of their little group but somehow they find a way to be right in my face.

"Enjoying the free alcohol." He lifts the cup to his lips, hiding his smile. "What are you doing here?"

I take a sip of my beer. "I came with Sarah."

He nods, eyeing me up and down. "You look gorgeous as always."

I roll my eyes at his compliment. "Thanks."

"You know," He leans in closer. "you're always cold towards us but when it comes to these pogues you're a fucking angel. Why is that?"

I sigh out loud, not really in the mood to deal with his whining. "Cause I can. " I offer him a smile before walking away, blending in with the dancing crowd.

It didn't take more than 4 cups of alcohol, to find myself dancing between a few half-naked girls, that are probably as drunk as I am. My body has a mind of its own as I swing my hips to the beat of some '00 song. I lost sight of Sarah half an hour ago when she disappeared with Topper, and I joined Kie and Pope and took a few shots before throwing myself between the sweaty bodies, pretending that the fact that JJ is still nowhere to be found does not affect me at all. He's a known player around the Obx, sleeping around, flirting his way through, breaking hearts left and right and I've had my fair share of it. But the game he's playing is a dangerous one, and I'm trying to protect myself the best way I can.

"Shots!." John B yells, throwing his hands in the air, holding a bottle of tequila in his right one. A few girls extend their cups for him to pour them some but I've probably dropped mine while dancing cause it's not between my fingers anymore.

I tap on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hit me!" I yell over the music and open my mouth wide.

"Let's go!" He yells pouring a shot straight into my mouth. The alcohol drips down my chin as I try to swallow, my eyes watering at the process.

"Another one." John B says and taps my chin waiting for me to open my mouth again and I do. All eyes are suddenly on us, everyone is cheering and yelling as I shallow my fourth shot in a row and I feel two hands grabbing me by the legs and lifting me higher. I throw my hands in the air, laughing as the people around me scream louder. My mind is somewhere else, and I let the carefree feeling and numbness that comes with alcohol overtake me. Until I open my eyes. I sober up in a second when my eyes find his. His on top of a rock, smoking with a few other people. A girl leans in towards him, her hand wrapping around him as she laughs at something Pope said but he stays unbothered, his eyes still on me as he lifts his cup my way with a nod and a smile. I nod back not knowing what to do before turning back to the girls I was dancing with. I continue moving to the music but my mind isn't letting me shake him off. Suddenly, the alcohol feels heavy in my stomach and the sound of my heartbeat is louder than the music in my ears. My hand flies to my mouth as I run out of the dancing crowd and as far away as I can from the people before dropping to my knees and vomiting in a bag full of used cups. I feel two hands reaching for my hair as all the alcohol that I consumed leaves my system.

"It's okay, I got you." I hear Rafe's voice over the music that has faded a bit due to the distance. "Here" He hands me a napkin.

"Thank you." I cough out, taking the napkin, and bringing it to my lips.

"Hold on, let me bring you some water."

I wipe my mouth and drop the napkin inside the trash bag.

"Here." He pushes a cup of water into my hand, tugging my hair behind my ear as I take a few sips of the water slowly. "Stop drinking so much Y/n, Jesus."

"I'm okay." I rise to my feet.

"Come on," His hand wraps around my waist. "let's take you home yeah?" He starts pulling me towards the other side of the beach.

"I don't think she's going anywhere with you Cameron." My head snaps to the right, hearing Rafe scoff at the sight of JJ. JJ's eyes twitch when they fall on me, his eyebrows coming together.

"I don't think you have a saying in what she does pogue." Rafe's hands drop from my body as he takes a step forward.

JJ's expression shifts in a second when he moves his eyes from me to Rafe, a smile spreading over his lips. "Oh I think I do," He takes a step forward as well. "And she's not going anywhere with you." His voice drops a little.

"I suggest you take a step back." Rafe doesn't back down.

JJ's eyes darken. "Or what?" He takes yet another step. "Last time I checked you're still nipping at her heels and following her around in case she pities you and gives you a chance."

Rafe lets out a growl, pushing JJ backwards but he just laughs mockingly, knowing he hit a nerve but that angers Rafe more.

I step between them before Rafe can make another move. "Stop acting like five-year-olds." I look at both of them, but they ignore me, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Hey," My hand touches Rafe's chest, forcing his eyes away from JJ. "go back to the party, I'll let you know when I'm ready to leave." I lie, knowing that it's the only way to make him walk away without creating a scene cause trying to make JJ drop this would be even harder. Rafe's eyes narrow, flickering back to JJ. I reach for his hand, softening my tone. "I'll find you." I nod, trying to reassure him.

He nods back, letting out a sigh. "Turn him down kindly babe." He says, knocking JJ's shoulder with his as he walks out.

JJ's eyes are fixated on me. "You'll let him know when you're ready to leave huh?" He says when Rafe's far enough.

"Maybe." I play along, shrugging my shoulders.

His tongue comes out to wet his pink lips, hands resting on his hips as he takes a step towards me. "Is that so?"

"Last time I checked I can go home with anyone I want." I cross my arms, trying not to let my gaze drop to his lips.

"We both know that I would never let that happen." His voice drops, his tone raspier.

"Why JJ?" I tilt my head upwards due to our height difference but that doesn't stop me from taking a step forward as well, only leaving a few inches between us.

His fingers wrap around my neck, catching me off guard. "Come on now princess, let's not play dumb." He smirks.

"I'm not playing dumb. Actually, I'm done playing." I wrap my hand around his wrist, pulling it away from my neck.

Something flashes over his eyes but doesn't stay for long. "Trust me, I'm done playing as well." He mumbles before cupping my jaw with both hands, not letting me escape and in a split second his lips crush into mine. My breath hitches as the taste of weed and beer coats my tongue but I'd be lying if I say that I haven't missed it. It's been a week since the last time I kissed him and since then I've tried to keep myself at a distance, knowing that the more I let this go on the more invested I become, and knowing JJ, it will not end up well If I do. He lets out a low moan as his tongue enters my mouth, colliding passionately with mine. My fingers grab his shirt for support, my body suddenly overwhelmed by the familiar knot in my stomach that begins to build.

"Fuck, I missed you baby." He breaks the kiss, allowing me to take a much-needed breath. I dare to lift my eyes, looking up at him through my eyelashes, only to find him looking hungrily down at me. His hands travel from my jaw, down to the curve of my waist and he pulls my body to his. "You kept me waiting for so long." He breathes out, resting his forehead on mine.

"JJ" My tone begging and warning at the same time. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"You can not name a single good reason for us not to." He says, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

"I can name a few."

His hands drop to my ass and in a swift move, he lifts me off the ground forcing my legs to wrap around his waist. "I'd rather hear other sound out of that pretty mouth of yours." He starts walking away from the party, keeping his hands secure under my thighs and crashing his lips to mine once again. He makes sure we're far enough from the crowd and behind plenty of trees and bushes before stopping and dropping me carefully on the sand. He breaks the kiss, straightening his body and reaching to peel off his white long-sleeve shirt.

"You look fucking amazing tonight." He doesn't break eye contact. "I was hard from the minute I saw you walk in." He leans back down, his eyes roaming over my body as if he hasn't seen it in ages.

My hands reach for the ends of my shirt, pulling it over my head. "Fuck." He dives hungrily into my naked chest. Sucking, nibbling, and biting. He squeezes my boobs between his palms, rolling his tongue over my nipples, making them harder by the second. His wet lips slide down my stomach teasingly as his fingers toy with the button of my shorts before finally unbuttoning it. He drags it down my legs, leaving me in my black panties, exposed and ready for him. Somehow I always find myself in this position as much as I'm trying to avoid it but the sight of him desperately fumbling with his belt as his eyes devour my body is one that I'll never get enough of.

I lift myself onto my knees, lowering my body so I'm facing his crotch. I pull down his shorts along with his boxers freeing his already hard member. A small moan escapes my lips at the sight, my mouth watering. His thumb and index finger reach for my jaw, tilting my head to meet his dark gaze.

"I want your eyes on me as you choke on my dick, okay princess?" He says and I'm aflame from head to toe. He takes his dick in his other hand, pumping it a few times before dragging the tip across my lips, coating them with his leaking precum. I keep my eyes locked on his wild blue ones as I take him in my mouth.

"Fuck" He curses under his breath as I twirl my tongue around the tip. I replace his hand with mine, taking him deeper, the size of him weighing on my tongue. I relax my jaw, allowing almost his whole member to enter my mouth. His hands fist my hair while his hips begin to thrust forward, lightly fucking himself in my mouth.

"You're so fucking good at this baby." He praises me. "Look at you choking on it, that's it." I force myself to breathe through my nose while saliva starts dripping from my mouth down to my chin. He fastens his pace only for a few seconds before, pulling my head sharply back by my hair, his dick dropping from my mouth as I gasp for air.

He groans out loud. "I missed this."

His words sink in as much as I try not to let them. It's always 'I missed this' and never 'I missed you.'

He connects our lips again, tasting himself while he pushes me down on my back. His fingers run over my clothed pussy, and that's enough to make my back arch, silently begging him for more. My body responds to him in ways that I can't explain or control. Just a touch and he has me already panting. He pulls my underwear to the side opening my folds with his middle finger.

"Ugh." I gasp.

"Shit baby, you're already dripping." He whispers satisfied against my lips. His mouth falls to the curve of my neck, sucking on my skin as his fingers begin to rub circles over my clit making tiny moans escape me. Unexpectedly, he slides two fingers inside me, quickly building a fast pace.

"Oh, my god." I shut my eyes, pleasure creeping into my lower belly.

"You respond to me so well princess." He kisses me, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth. His fingers pump in and out of me, making my breath shorter as the pleasure builds.

"God Jay, I'm gonna-" The words die in my throat and the flicker of his thumb on my clit sends me unexpectedly over the edge. My orgasm rushes over me like a wave, my body going numb for a few seconds, gasps and moans leaving my lips.

"That's it baby, ride it out." His pace slows down a bit before pulling his fingers out. He leaves wet kisses along my jaw, making my eyes fly open.

"I want more. " My tone begging with no embarrassment.

A grin overtakes his lips, his eyes shining under the dim light of the moon. "I want you on your hands and knees. " He demands.

My body moves on its own, and before my mind can catch up I'm on all four, my ass on display in front of him. He runs his palms over the skin before slapping sharply my right ass-cheek.

I gasp, flinching forward. "That's for flirting with Rafe."

"I wasn't flirting with-" 

Another slap.

"And that's for ignoring me for a week." He growls. I stay silent as he pulls my underwear to the side again. He strokes my pussy with the head of his dick, dragging it up and down my slit, teasing me.

"JJ please," I whine desperately.

He leans down bringing his lips beside my ear. "Say you're sorry for ignoring me."

I swallow the last bit of pride that's left in me, understanding that my need for him is too big, and knowing that his ego is hurt, I do as he says. "I'm sorry for ignoring, I'm sorry."

"You want me?" He presses, his tone dripping with enjoyment.

"Yes, I want you so bad, please." I push my ass backwards.

He lets out a low chuckle and I hear him rip open a condom, seconds later his head presses against my entrance and slides in slowly. We both let out a groan at the feeling. God, I missed this too.

"Ready?" He asks breathlessly after a few seconds.

I nod my head, allowing him to move his hips. He grabs a full fist of my hair while his other hand stays on the curve of my ass before he pulls out and slams back in.

I immediately gasp when he begins to thrust inside me building a fast and steady rhythm.

"God, you're so fucking tight." He groans. The sound of skin on skin fills the air and my breaths begin to come out short as I arch my back. His dick feels too good inside me, almost heavenly. The way he moves, the sounds he makes, I've missed everything.

"Fuck it's so good." I brokenly moan. His balls begin to hit perfectly at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to my second orgasm. His grip on my hair tightens and pants of air mixed with low growls leave his mouth. I'm struggling to keep my body up as a fucks me harder than ever before and the fire in my belly grows.

"I'm not gonna last long." He mumbles in my ear but the pleasure between my legs is too much, my muscles burn and I squeeze my eyes shut as I let my second orgasm wash over me, euphoria spreading at every inch of my body. My legs begin to shake the sensation too intense as he fucks me through the last of it. His thrusts become sloppier, his nails digging into the flesh of my ass.

He falls forward and I feel his heartbeat on my back. "Fuck, Y/n." He lets an animistic growl in my ear, his body stilling completely as he empties himself inside the condom. Drops of sweat fall from the tips of his blonde hair on my shoulder, while both he and I catch out breaths. After almost a minute he plants a kiss on my back before pulling out slowly. The feeling of emptiness creeps in, alongside with the embarrassment and the realisation of what just happened. I hear him pulling the condom out and throwing it somewhere, while I stay almost frozen. Now that everything is done, I can't find the strength to face him. I lift myself to my feet, my legs still a little weak but I ignore it reaching for my shorts and putting them back on. I keep my back to him and my head low as reach for my top. The sound of his belt lets me know that he doing the same. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. He holds up my shirt between his fingers.

"Thanks." My voice falters. I pull the shirt over my head and run my fingers through my tangled hair. I feel his eyes on me, burning at the side of my head. I build up all the courage that I can master and turn my gaze to him and it takes one second to regrade it. He stands there, fully dressed, his blonde hair a mess, looking at me with those eyes. Those big, blue eyes that I've grown so used to over the last few months, staring at me with so much softness, analysing. Suddenly, my body is fighting a wave of emotions.

"What?" I ask, my tone almost a whisper.

He clenches and unclenches his jaw, his eyes saying so much but his mouth, not a single word. "I'm taking you home." He states before turning around and walking away back towards the party. I don't fight him, I simply follow him to his bike. Both of us know exactly what's going on, I know he understands what I'm trying to do but he doesn't seem to understand why and I don't bother explaining. I know him. I know how he is, I know how he reacts. I know who he is and who I am. I keep my hands tight around his waist as we make the short way towards my house on his bike. I try to enjoy these last few moments with him. It's always stolen moments like these. On his bike, on the beach, hidden in John B's van, silently in my room, or in my dad's boat. And that's not enough.

.

.

.

.

It's been days since I last saw him. He left me home, with a small nod and a goodnight and I haven't seen him since then. Truth be told, I haven't worked at the cafe at all, claiming to my mother that I have a lot of homework, which is partly true. I've been distracting myself as much as I can with school and studying. Tonight is no different, I'm sitting comfortably in my bed working on my homework for Monday.

"That's it, I'm done with this boy." My dad's yelling interrupts me, catching my attention.

"Honey please, he's going through a rough time." My mom tries to calm him down. "Let me talk to Y/n, maybe she knows something."

"She better not, she shouldn't be hanging out with these boys in the first place." I hear a door slam. I have heard my dad this angry in a long time, but usually, it is always about the same things; either me sneaking around and breaking his house rules or something to do with the pogues. My dad loves my mom and accepts her for who she is but he doesn't get why she still wants to have ties with the south side and most importantly why she wants me to grow up knowing both sides. But what are they fighting about now? What boy?

A soft knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts. "Come in."

My mom opens the door slowly., entering my room. "Hey, honey." She closes the door behind her.

"What's going on mom? Why is dad yelling?" I ask her right away.

She lets out a sigh and approaches my bed, taking a seat. "Y/n have you talked to John B at all?"

My eyebrows twitch. "Um, no not really, why?"

She doesn't appear mad unlike the way my dad sounded a few seconds ago, instead, her face falls at my answer.  "Are you sure? Have you talked to Kiara or the other boys?"

I shake my head, her questions confusing me more. "No mum, why?"

"Apparently the keys to the boat are nowhere to be found." She finally explains.

"And you think Jonh B stole them?" I lift both my brows. "Mom, come on, I mean I would expect something like this from dad but not from you."

"No, no" My mom shakes her head, reaching for my hand. "No, honey. You know what I think of him, I care about John B, I've known him since he was a child. I wouldn't mind if he took the key and had fun on the boat with his friends for a few days but you know how your dad gets."

"It's always the pogues' fault." I roll my eyes.

"Please talk to him, " She nods. "I would hate for him to lose his job because of something like this. Just ask if he took them."

I nod back. "Fine, I will."

"Thanks, honey." She places a kiss on my forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight mom." I hold my smile until she closes the door. Why would John B take the keys to our boat? He knows that if he simply asked me or my mom we would let him borrow it. This doesn't seem like something he would do but then again, the only people that have access to the boat are me, my parents, and him. I reach for my phone and call John B but the phone rings and rings with no answer. I try a few more times, before trying Kie and Pope, but no luck. I stare at his number for a few seconds before pressing call, mentally preparing myself to listen to his voice after so long but just like the rest of them, he doesn't pick up.

"What the hell? Why is none answering?" .

.

.

I decided to go by the chateau after my morning shift at the cafe. I prepare myself and go over the things I'll say if by chance JJ's there as well but I stop in my tracks when an unfamiliar van comes into view packed outside the house. Sounds of glass breaking, things being thrown around, and doors slamming can be heard as I move closer to the house. I push myself behind a big tree, narrowing my eyes, trying to peer through the open window, when 2 men come into view. Big, muscular, and scary looking. Fear begins to spread through my body.

"You better not be in there boy!" One of them yells as they both throw themselves to a closed door, trying to open it. They kick and punch at the old wooden door as it slowly begins to crumble. Suddenly I see the window on the side of the house opening, and a body quickly forcing its way out of it. He turns around and I immediately recognise Pope's face. Kie follows shortly after with John B right behind them. They begin to run my way as I stay frozen, completely shocked by what's happening right in front of me. Pope's eyes lock with mine, his face taken over by a scared expression probably mirroring mine.

"Guys." He yells in a whispering tone and everyone's heads snap my way. JJ is the last to jump out the window, running behind his friends.

His eyes fall on me, eyes widening. "No, no, no." He mumbles as they all reach me. "No, not now." He grabs my arm just when a gunshot echoes through the area. I gasp, my body numbing with fear as JJ drags me along with them, my eyes not leaving the house as the 2 guys open the door and burst into the room that they guys came out of. JJ pulls me inside the small chicken coop closing the small door behind us. I bring my hand to cover my mouth, my fingers trembling. I look around taking in all of their scared faces. "W-what-" I try to say.

"What are you doing here?" JJ angrily whispers, pulling me by the arm to face him but I don't react.

"JJ now is not the time." Kie snaps at him, fear written all over her face as well. The chickens begin to make noise, yet nothing reaches me. "Do something. " She nods towards the chickens.

"Like what? Pet them?" Pope jokes while trying not to panic.

JJ reaches over taking the chicken in his hands and squeezing his little neck until it eventually stops breathing. I try to take deep breaths but my eyes stay locked on the house as the men get inside the car and drive off. Kiara takes my hand in her, tears wetting her cheeks.

"I think it's clear." John B says. "Come on." He steps out of the coop, Pope and Kiara following him.

JJ moves in front of me, stepping out as well. He extends his hand for me to take. My trembling fingers wrap around it, allowing him to pull me out. 

"What are you here?" He repeats. His eyes look at me still panicked, moving around my face almost fanatically. His hands come up to my face, pushing hair away.

"I.." I try to form a sentence but my mouth is dry. "I was looking f-for John B."

"God." He runs his fingers through his hair, moving around.

"I thought we were going to die." Kie breathes out, holding her hand over her chest. Pope moves to her side and pulls her into a side hug.

"What just happened?" I say still trying to catch my own breath. "Who are they? What did they want?"

John B looks at his friends, and I know that he's silently asking them if he can tell me. He walks towards me. "Hey, I'm sorry you had to see that." He pulls me to his chest.

"Are you in trouble?" I look up at him. "you know that my mom will help you with anything. Just tell me."

"Y/n-"

"You don't have to know everything." JJ says, his hands crossed in front of him, his face suddenly cold.

I move my eyes to him, confused by his tone and sudden energy shift.

"JJ.." Kiara sends him a careful glare.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Um," I mumble, my eyes still fixated on JJ. "did you take the keys to our boat?"

He closes his eyes, cursing under his breath. "Yeah," he looks at his friends again, all of them looking at me apologetically. What the hell is going on? I'm used to not being involved in pretty much anything when it comes to them, but this is not a joke.

I narrow my eyes at all of them, shaking my head. "Can anyone please explain to me what the fuck just happened?"

"Look Y/n-" Pope takes a step forward but JJ cuts him off, placing a hand on his chest.

"No, she doesn't need to know."

"What's wrong with you?" Anger overtakes my tone. He's acting like an asshole right now. "Do you realise what just happened JJ? Those guys had a gun."

"I know that Y/n." He clenches his jaw, walking back towards me. "but it doesn't involve you, so just go back to figure 8 cause last time I checked that's where you belong." He gets closer to my face and I feel my whole body stiffens at his cruel words. "Stop trying to be a pogue." 

I tighten the muscles on my face, not wanting to let the tears leave my eyes but the unexpected anger overtakes my body and my hand moves across his face, slapping him hard. His face freezes, staying to the right. He has never spoken to me like that. He has never acted this way towards me and I hate it.

"Fuck you dude." I spit, shaking my head. I turn to John B. "Give me the keys." I don't care why they took them and I don't wanna know what happened anymore, I just wanna go home.

"Y/n.." He gives an apologetic look.

"Give. me. the. keys." My tone is sharp as I open my palm in front of him.

He lets out a sigh before dropping them in my palm. I put them in my pocket, not saying a word to him, and turn around.

"Y/n, let me come with you." Kie offers.

"I'd rather not." I say getting inside my car and slamming the door shut. I pull out without waiting for any of them to try and stop me and drive off, letting the tears finally fall. Tears of fear, tears of anger, and tears of hurt. He was right; I desperately wanted to be one of them my whole life but that wasn't the reason why I asked. I don't give a shit what they were doing and how they ended up in a situation like that, but it was serious. It wasn't fun and games, those guys weren't joking around and I care about them. All of them. If they're in trouble I want to help them as much as I can. My mom would understand them and she would do anything to help cause she's a pogue. But I'm not. I'm not and they'll never see me as one. They'll never trust me enough. He'll never let me get close. I know how it is and I thought that I had accepted it but clearly I was wrong cause it hurts.

. . . .

It's been 2 days and yet I'm still on edge. I still look over my shoulder every 5 seconds, and I still flinch over any slightly loud noise. I've been zoning out constantly, my mind travelling back to that day and his words. It still hurts, the way he talked to me but it was the reality check that I needed. Maybe it's time to actually stop and move on.

I wipe the last of the tables getting ready to close the cafe. The sun is setting and I can't wait to go home and relax after a long day. I move to the counter, grabbing my stuff and making sure everything is closed and in order when I hear the 'ding' the door makes when it opens.

"I'm sorry we're closed-" I turn around coming face to face with the 2 men that broke into John B's house.

Their faces hold the same smug expression, satisfied with the clear shock that overtakes my whole body. "We're not here for coffee." One of them says, his voice raspy and low.

My feet move backwards until my back hits the front of the counter. "I-I can't help you then." I shutter.

"Oh but you can," He smirks. "you can deliver a message to John B for us."  I shake my head repeatedly, my chest heavy as I try to breathe. He grabs me by the arm, his fingertips digging painfully into my skin while the other finds my neck, choking me.

"And since words won't do it for them, maybe this will. "The other one says, nodding to his partner with a smirk. The guy releases me and before I have time to catch my breath, his hand slaps me across the face so hard that it sends me to the ground.

"Ugh." It takes me a few seconds for my sense to return, my head heavy with pain and my skin burning. He grabs me by the shirt, forcing me upwards only to bring his hand across my face again. I yell in pain, tears streaming down my face as the taste of blood fills my mouth. My eyes struggle to focus.

He stands straight, looking down at me. "P-Please stop." I beg but he stays unphased, kicking me right in the stomach. Pain spreads through my body, my knees coming to my chest as I cough violently. He kicks me again, and again, his boot finding my face at some point and I scream until there's no strength in me to make noise anymore. The tears won't stop and breathing gets harder by the second.

"Tell your friend that he better give us the compass or else he's next. "He pulls my head up by my hair causing me to whine in pain. He gives me one last evil smirk before slamming it back on the wooden floor and walking away without a second glance at my aching body, his partner following.

I sob violently at this point, trying to keep my head focused and my eyes open but they're getting heavier and heavier, the world starting to spin. I don't know how long I stayed on the floor in and out of consciousness but when I heard my name being yelled my eyes snapped open.

John B kneels by my side. "Oh my god Y/n, what happened?" He says, his voice full of panic. His hands' ghost over my body not knowing where to touch me as he scans the injuries.

I don't reply but a broken sob escapes me.

"It's okay, it's gonna be okay." He slides his hands carefully under my body, my face twitching with pain. He takes me in his arms and walks out of the cafe. "It's okay, you're safe, I got you." he murmurs against my head. He lays me down on the back seat of the twinkie before hopping in on the driver's seat. His hands move fast, his eyes wild, looking back at me every 2 seconds as he drives.

"What happened?" He whispers. "W-who did this?"

I keep my eyes close and try to control my breathing but the pain is too much. "T-those men" The words that leave my mouth are barely audible but he catches them.

His hands tighten around the wheel, before punching it. He looks back at me anger written all over his face, his eyes almost watering. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Y/n. It's all my fault."

"The compass.." I drag out, causing him to look back at me with wide eyes but everything fades again.

I feel his hands on me again. He takes me in his arms. "We're here." He whispers and I bury my face in his neck. I recognise his house immediately. He takes big steps almost running trying to hold me without causing me pain.

He reaches the house. "Guys!." he yells. "Help!"

"Oh my god, Y/n," Kie cries out rushing to us.

"What happened?" Pope tries to help John B carry me to the couch.

"Y/n." It's his voice that makes my eyes finally open and it's the look on his face when he sees me that hurts more that the pain in my body. A single sharp breath leaves his mouth before he's by my side as John B places me on the couch. I let out a small whine.

"What happened?" He whispers, dropping to his knees beside me. "What happened?!" He yells turning to John B who has his hands buried in his hair, pacing around the room. Kie appears back in the room with a first aid kit.

"Those men, the 2 men that broke in, jumped on her. " He answers.

"What?" Pope says. "Why would they do that to her? How do they even know her?"

"It's the boat, idiots." Kie angrily says passing some ice to JJ. "They saw us jumping inside it to escape them."

"Baby," JJ presses the ice to my cheek, with trembling hands. I can already feel different parts of my body brushing. His other hand comes to my head, brushing my hair back. "Baby, I'm sorry." He places his lips against my forehead. His lips tremble, and he shakes his head, eyes wide full of fear and anger. "You're gonna be okay, I'm here yeah? I'm not leaving you again." He whispers, his voice breaking.

Kie appears next to us. "Jay, let me take care of her." She touches his shoulder. "She needs help and rest."

JJ leaves one last kiss on the side of my face before getting up. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."I hear him growl before he and the boys move further into the house. Kie cleans up all my wounds and takes care of the cuts that I had on my face.

"Get some rest okay?" She smiles a sad smile at me.

"Thanks, Kie." I mumbled before drifting off.

. . . . . .

I shiver, the sudden cold air that hits my exposed skin forces my eyes open, waking me up from my slumber. The living room is dark, not a single person is here except me. I try to lift my body into a seating position, and a sharp but lighter pain spreads around my stomach and back causing me to whine.

I hear a groan from my left and I turn to find JJ's sleeping body laying on the floor. His closed eyes twitch before opening. It takes a few seconds for him to react but when he sees me awake his body shoots up, hands stretching towards my body.

"Y/n," He breathes. "hey."

I rub my eyes with the back of my hands. "What time is it?"

"Um," His hands fumble with his phone. "It's almost 3 am. You fell asleep"

"Hmm," I hum, lifting myself into a seating position. "My parents-"

"Kiara texted them from your phone that you're gonna stay at hers tonight." He says. "Take it easy." He touches my back softly. A sad expression overtakes his face when he sees me struggling to straighten my back.

"Y/n.." He shakes his head and I know exactly what he's going to say.

"It's okay, it's fine." I reassure him. JJ tends to hold a lot of guilt inside. He thinks that he's responsible for anything that happens. It seems like he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders when there's really no need.

"No, it's not." He shakes his hand repeatedly. "It's not. I can't stand seeing you hurt because of me. You did nothing wrong, it shouldn't have happened like this." His eyes drop to his hands that are resting on my thighs.

"It's not your fault." I place my hand on top of his.

"But it is. We stole your boat to escape, they saw that. And then I acted like a dick refusing to tell you anything in order to protect you and keep you out of it when in the end it's you who got hurt." His voice is filled with guilt and anger.

"Protect me from what?" I scoff. "What's going on Jay?"

His eyes soften at the nickname but he stays quiet.

"Why don't you trust me?" I mumble, mostly to myself.

"I do trust you." He defends.

"Just not enough right?" I smile a little.

He closes his eyes. "Y/n, you know it's not like that. You know me."

"Apparently I don't JJ." I raise my tone a little. "I mean I thought I did, I wanted to. I was patient and I was understanding. I listened to you and I was there. As much as you would let me at least." I go on, and all the words that I was holding inside come rushing out. "The JJ I know would not talk to me like that, the JJ I know would not disappear for days, the JJ I know would not keep secrets from me."

"Y/n-" He tries to interrupt me.

"No, I get it, I know my place. " I hold a hand up between us. "I know we're not together but I care JJ. " I admit looking at him dead in the eye. His face falls at my words, jaw tightening. "I liked it when you would climb through my window and we would talk for hours about all the things you guys had done that day and I liked it when I would sneak out after midnight and go on bike rides with you. I liked how we would surf together or how we would lay on my rooftop, looking at the stars talking about all the things we want in life. You were the one that was pushing me to join you in all kinds of things, you would always tell me that I was a pogue deep down." Tears threaten to spill but I try to contain them.

"You were the one that pushed me away," He point a finger towards me. "Since day one, since the first day we fucked, you never wanted me."

"JJ," I lift my hands to my hair, struggling to control my anger. "I was trying to protect myself!"

"For what?" He shoots back, his frustration building as well.

"From you!" His shoulders fall. "I wanted you, I've always wanted you but I know you." I sigh, studying his beautiful, blue eyes that are piercing mine. "I know better than to let myself fall and believe that this is more than it is." I say quietly.

He tilts his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "I tried to stay away from you because I couldn't stand to hold you and know that you aren't mine. Every time I would look at your face, I would see nothing but walls. We would have sex and then you would go back to being cold and wanting to be as far away from me as possible and I honestly get it, people like me don't deserve people like you."

I shake my head in disbelief. "How can you say that?"

"Cause it's true." He chuckles sadly. "Look at you and look at me." He motions between us.

"Stop." I close my eyes, unable to stand the way he views himself, I wish he could see how extraordinary he actually is.

"Y/n, I know." His gaze hardens. "But when John B walked through that door with you almost unconscious in his arms. Your body and face brushed and beaten," He twitches his face as if the image brushes through his mind and physically hurts him. "I lost it. My heart dropped. Nothing mattered but making sure that you were okay and holding you in my arms. The thought that something like that had happened to you," He shakes his head, reaching to take my jaw in his hands gently. "I can't fucking stand it. And I swear to you that I will search the whole island for these motherfuckers and I'll fucking kill them for laying a finger on you." He leans forward, his forehead inches away from mine.

A small smile creeps on my lips at his words, my heart warming instantly.

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day, all I wanted was to protect you and I'm sorry for disappearing on you. I'm sorry about all the lying and the secrets and I'm sorry I can't be what you need and deserve." His eyes move all over my face while his thumbs move gently over my cheekbones.

I bite my lip. "JJ, you're all I want. You're more than enough." I say with my whole heart, wanting nothing more than for him to see himself the way I do. "You're the most incredible person I know and it hurts me that don't see it."

"I don't deserve you." He whispers, his lips ghosting over mine. His breath becomes my breath.

"Shut up." I smile crushing my lips to his. It doesn't take more than a second for him to react, moving his mouth against mine, inhaling sharply as if I'm oxygen. I let out a low moan as JJ's lips started nibbling at mine, demanding entrance that I'm all too happy to grant. It's ridiculous how much I've missed him, the taste of his lips is enough to make all the pain disappear. Everything fades away as our tongues collide, teasing and testing each other. My hands travel to his hair, tugging lightly while he holds my waist carefully. I push myself forwards, sucking on his bottom lip before capturing it between my teeth. I can feel him holding back, he digs his fingers into my skin and releases a sharp breath.

"Y/n," He lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss.

My frustration builds more with each second passing, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on me. I need to feel him. "What?" I breathe out.

"Maybe.." His eyes fall to my swollen lips, his mouth opening. "Maybe we should take it slow, considering what you went through the last few hours."

I shake my head. "No, I want you." I inch forward wanting to taste him again but he doesn't let me.

"Princess, trust me I want nothing more than to throw you on the couch and fuck you senseless while you scream my name for everyone to hear." He tilts his head downwards, his words making my insides hot and causing my thighs to clench together, hoping for some relief. His eyes big and wild, hungrily staring back at mine while I let my hands explore and touch his face, brushing his hair back and down his neck. My burning desire for his touch has overtaken me completely, my stomach tightens just at the thought of all of the things we could do but I know that he's right, my body still feels beaten and heavy.

"You need to rest for tonight." He takes my jaw between his fingers.

"Will you stay with me?" I'm scared that the minute we leave each other, things will go back to how they were, and what I realised after tonight and after what happened is that I don't wanna be without him anymore. I don't want to be scared anymore cause you never know what will happen.

His face breaks into a soft smile. "Lay down."

His arms felt familiar yet foreign. Like I missed the feeling of falling asleep buried in his chest, his scent filling my senses but different like something's changed.

.

.

.

.

The book that I'm reading has been getting less and less interesting with each minute passing. Maybe it's the fact that it's 10:00 pm and I'm laying in my bed, reading on Saturday night, or the fact that he hasn't called me or even texted the whole day. It's been a few days since the incident at the cafe. After we woke up that day JJ drove me back home and explained pretty much everything, about The Royal Merchant, the compass that they found, and how it lead them to the tape recorder that Big John left for his son. I still can't believe some of the things that happened to them and what they discovered. He made me promise that I won't tell a soul, something I would have done even if he hadn't asked. I haven't seen him since, mostly cause my parents have been babying me none stop. I told them what happened at the cafe, twisted around a little the actual truth, and claimed that the 2 men tried to rob the cafe but JJ and John B showed up. I haven't gone to school or done anything in general for the past few days. I've been laying low and have recovered completely but my mind has been stuck on what JJ told me. Through the days I found myself wondering what they were doing and wishing I was with them.

A knock on my widow breaks me out of my thoughts. JJ sends me a small wave. My head snaps to my door, checking if it's closed before running to open the window. He quickly pushes his tall body through the small opening, stumbling a little in the process.

"Hi" he breathes out, standing up straight.

"Hi," I giggle "what are you doing here?" I scan him with my eyes making sure that he's okay and also taking in the sight of him that I've missed so much.

"I wanted to check up on you." He says, running his hands through his hair.

My hands are itching, wanted to reach in and touch him but I don't know if that is too much. Honestly, I don't know where we stand, all I know is that I've missed him.

His eyes move around my face while he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes catch the movement. "Come here." He mutters before reaching forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. I bury my face into the curve of his neck, my eyes closing at the feeling of his embrace.

"I missed you." He speaks so quietly that I almost didn't catch it.

I tighten my arms around his neck, silently responding. I missed him too.

"I was worried about you." I say, pulling away slightly.

"About me?" He lifts his brows playfully. "Come on have a little faith in my survival skills princess."

I slap his shoulder lightly, trying to hide my smile. "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, everyone's fine." He brushes me off. "I'll tell you everything but first.." He cups my jaw with his hands and presses his lips to mine. I let out a surprised sound that dies in my throat before moving my lips against his, responding. I feel him smile into the kiss and he opens his mouth slightly, allowing my tongue to slide inside. He hums as our tongues play with each other, letting his hands fall to my waist. He pulls my body closer to his, forcing me to my tiptoes while the kiss gets heavier. The sound of our lips and our heavy breathing fills the room.

"My parents will hear us." I breathe out.

"I don't care." He attacks my lips again, backing me slowly until the back of my knees hit my bed. He breaks the kiss and gives me a light push causing me to fall on the bed. He stares down at me with a smirk slowly dropping his hands to the bottom of his shirt and peeling it off his body. My eyes take him in, his chest and abs on full display. I bite my lip wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him. He leans down, wrapping his hands around my neck, forcing my head upwards to look at him.

"Don't look at me like that." He drawls out.

I relax my face, staring at him through my lashes. "Like what?"

He pushes me down completely, my back flat against the bed while his legs are spread on each side of my hips.

He gives me a light slap on the cheek but it's enough to make my back arch and my thighs to clench together. "Don't test me, princess, 'cause I don't give a shit about your parents being just across the hall."

My hands find the bottom of my own shirt, pulling it over my head. "I don't give a shit either."

"Fuck." He dives right into my chest, his mouth nibbling and sucking on my exposed skin. My hands go to his hair instantly, guiding him to my breasts. He wastes no time, unclipping my bra and taking one of my nipples in his mouth.

"Mhh," I moan as he circles his tongue around the hardening nub. His hands hold my hips down when I try to find some relief by grinding my hips to his. His lips travel farther down teasingly, dragging his tongue over my stomach and stopping at the top of my pajama pants. His eyes shoot up, the light and hunger in them challenging me. His fingers toy with the fabric, pulling it down slowly, not breaking eye contact while I lift my hips, allowing him to fully take it off. He straightens up, his hands fumbling with his belt with his eyes glued to my panties. His breathing hardens when I open my thighs exposing myself to him.

"You have no idea how I missed you." He groans, pulling his pants down.

I blink at him with a small smile. "How much?"

His eyes darken, looking down at my figure hard. " Let me show you." He pulls me by the thighs to the edge of the bed and kneels down right in front of my core. I inhaled sharply as he wastes no time ripping my panties off of me. His eyes beamed with hunger, taking in the sight of me. He lowers himself just a little, his hot breath fanning my bare pussy causing shivers to spread through my body. He looks up, eyes narrowing playfully using the tip of his tongue to deliver a soft flick over my clit. My legs twitch slightly, which causes him to smile.

"Stay still princess." He pins my hips down again and drags his tongue over my slit. He groans against me, the vibration shooting through me while he wastes no time diving in and moving his tongue at a faster pace. Heat explodes through my veins, my toes curling at the feeling of his wet muscle absolutely devouring me with no hesitation. He sucks and nibbles, drawing and flickering against my sensitive nerves as I whimper shamelessly underneath him. My hand shoots to his hair, head falling back and my back arching when I feel not one but two fingers slotting into my entrance.

"Oh my god, Jay." I rasp out, my palm covering my mouth.

His fingers start moving violently fast inside me, filling the room with pornographic wet sounds as the heat on my lower stomach builds embarrassingly fast. "Fuck baby, you're so wet." He groans against me before moving his thumb to cover my clit, rubbing circles in a fast motion.

His mouth attaches to my neck, taking the soft skin between his lips. "I want you to come on my fingers baby can you do that for me?" He whispers in my ear.

My body lifts off the mattress, feeling myself climbing higher and higher. "I-I'm gonna-" The words die in my throat as a giant wave of unexpected pleasure crashes over me, my eyes roll all the way back to my head, my mind going completely numb as his fingers keep up the pace allowing me to ride it out.

"That's it, baby," He mumbles against my neck. I close my eyes, still feeling the tingling sensation lingering in my belly. He pulls his fingers out, the aftermath of my orgasm dripping to his palm. He wraps his swollen lips around them, testing me while piercing me with his blue eyes.

He moans lightly. "The taste of you is incredible."

"Can I have a taste?" I nod down to his visibly hard member, that's fighting against the fabric of his boxers as he straightens his back, towering over me. My mouth watering at the thought, hands inching to fill the weight of his throbbing cock against them.

A low chuckle escapes him. "I would die to feel those pretty lips around my dick," He takes my jaw between his fingers. "But there's something I want more right now." He captures his bottom lip between his teeth, reaching to pull his boxers down. His dick shoots up free hitting his stomach, my eyes flicker to the tip, red and swollen with drops of precum coating it already. He pulls the drawer of my nightstand open, grabs a condom from the ones that he left a few weeks back, and quickly rolls it over his dick. He takes both of my wrists in his hands before I have any time to touch him and slams me back down on the bed.

He pins my hands over my head. "Your hands stay there."

I nod, trying to stop the grin of excitement that's forming on my lips. The feeling of need and frustration that only he can make me feel and that I've missed so much overtakes me as he lines his dick in my entrance. His tip brushes over my clit, opening my folds before pushing in slowly.  His forehead falls on mine and we both gasp as he fills me up entirely.

"Shit, princess." He hisses when I nod my head and give him the green light to move which he wastes no time doing. He pulls out all the way before slamming back in, filling me up again with such a powerful push that it causes me to gasp out loud. His hips find a rhythm in no time, attacking me with sharp, deep thrusts that make my breasts bounce almost painfully. His forceful movements draw all kinds of sounds out of me while everything begins to fade. My ears fill with the sound of my own heartbeat and his low moans and grunts as he pushes in and out of me, stretching me out with the size of his cock. I fight to keep my eyes open, only being able to focus on his beautiful face, that's overtaken by a mesmerizing fucked out expression. His eyebrows are drawn together, drops of sweat coating his forehead while his mouth hangs slightly open. He looks breathtaking as he fucks me senseless, reminding me with each thrust that in reality, he's all I want. His hands reach for the back of my right thigh, lifting it a little gaining access to a better angle that allows him to thrust deeper. My eyes roll back, unable to contain the pleasure that shoots from my core, my hands fly to his back, nails dining to the soft flesh, earning a deep grunt from him.

"You're doing so well baby, look at you taking my dick like a good girl." He grabs my neck with his free hands, his pace quickening making the knot in my stomach tighten. I dig my nails deeper, hands tugging his hair while both of our bodies dripping with sweat but I don't care about anything except my second orgasm that approaches.

"Are you gonna come for me again princess?" He teases me, feeling my walls tighten against him. "Tell me how good it feels, and maybe I'll let you come." He demands, tilting his head downwards and tightening his grip around my neck.

I can feel my wall throbbing, tightening painfully around his dick trying to keep him inside as heat begins to spread in my belly. "It feels so good Jay, so fucking good please baby don't stop." My dignity dissolves as tears start to form at the corners of my eyes.

"Tell me I'm the only one you want." His thrusts being to get sloppy, signalling that his own high is approaching. His eyes are wild, and everything starts to feel overwhelming.

"Y-you're the only one, I only want you." I confess, my tone desperate and begging.

He connects our foreheads again, hand dropping to my clit and with a single flick of his finger, I'm over the edge. My back arches, black spots fill my vision, and an almost euphoric feeling pulses through my veins. My brain and body are overtaken with pleasure and I keep my eyes shut as JJ's orgasm hits him just as hard.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He buries his face in the curve of my neck, letting his low groans fill my ear. I let him ride it out, ignoring the over-sensitivity that I start to feel. His body freezes for a few seconds as he releases into the condom before collapsing on top of me. I feel his heart drumming in his chest while he tries to control his breathing. I'm still in a state of bliss, ears still ringing and heart still beating fast. We stay like this for a good minute, our sweaty bodies touching and our fast breathing filling the air until he decides to lift himself off me and fall to the side.

Silence overtakes us, letting everything that just happened sink in. He pops himself on his elbow, head resting on his hand as he looks down at me with soft eyes. His hair going in every possible direction, his lips swollen and his neck covered in marks I don't remember making.

I smile at the sight of him.

"What?" His breathing is still uneven.

"You're pretty." I think out loud.

His eyes shift, lips curving upwards. "I love you, Y/n."

The raw emotion is visible as he speaks the words, causing my heart to stop for a split second. The words I desperately wanted to hear and desperately wanted to say for so long. The skin of my cheeks tingled but I say nothing, still processing what he just said.

His face breaks into a smile, unphased by my silence. "Fuck, I wanted to say that for so long." He lets out a breath of relief, pushing his hair back.

I've dreamt about this moment, never actually believing that it'll happen, thinking that just a hookup was all that I would ever be for JJ.

I stare deep into his ocean eyes. "I love you too JJ." I speak the easiest truth I've ever had to say out loud.

His smile grows more, overtaking his whole face and causing his eyes to almost close. I reach over throwing a hand around his neck and kissing him like I've never had before. We both smile into the kiss and giggles fill the air.

"I'm in love with you." He says again, against my lips.

His phone interrupts our moment before I have the chance to say it back again.

He sighs, reaching towards the floor to retrieve it from the pocket of his pants.

"What?" He picks up, keeping his eyes on me. His face drops, eyebrows coming together. "Slow down, slow down." His gaze shifts and I lift myself to a seating position, quickly throwing my shirt on. "Okay, I'm coming got it." His body almost bounces as he paces back and forth, his free hand moving fanatically until he stops right in front of me, ending the call.

His eyes light up and a challenging smile tugs at his lips.

"What?" I ask, completely lost.

"Wanna join me on a treasure hunt princess?" He grins.

"What do you mean?" My face twitches with confusion.

"John B needs me, they found something." He begins to get dressed.

"And what? You want me to join you guys?" I can't help the excitement that spreads over my face. "What do you mean?"

"The guys are waiting for us at Kie's place." He stands up straight, all dressed and ready with his hands resting on his hips. "That's the reason I came here." He bites his bottom lip, trying to contain his smile. "To get you. They guys are okay with it, especially with everything happening with Sarah and John B. " He waves his hands around.

I frown." What's going on with Sara and John B?"

He shakes his head, reaching for my waist. "I'll explain on the way. Are you in or not?"

I look into his eyes, the deepest shade of blue I've ever seen. The eyes that I've fallen so hard for and I would do anything for. The eyes that are now silently inviting me, challenging me, and making my heart beat faster. All my life I wanted nothing more than to be like them, to feel what it's like to live life their way, and even though what happened was the scariest thing I've ever experienced I can't help but give him a small nod.

His teeth make an appearance before he takes my face in his hands, planting a kiss on my lips. "Get dressed then baby, the gold is waiting." He smirks.

I smile against his lips. I guess my mom was right; the choice is pretty easy if you follow your heart.

[jjwantsme]

I Wanna Be Saved!

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

summary: in which he finally saves his favorite hoe. (part II to ‘Captain Save A Hoe’)

warnings: nsfw, lowercase intended, cussing, kiara still lowk being mean😭, slutshaming, promiscuous!reader, mentions of smut, kinda short

authors note: i love this little theory sm 🥲🥲🥲 thank yall for reading

masterlist

JJ looked zoned-out while John B went on about some stupid theory, a theory that he frankly didn’t care about. how could he care when hours earlier, his girl walked out on him?

okay, alright, she technically wasn’t his girl. but, in his mind, he was certainly her boy.

“JJ, are you even listening?” kiara looked at him with a face of annoyance.

“yeah, you were like, just straight up ignoring everything we said,” pope said in his monotone voice, only aggravating the boy in question even further

“everything is fucked, bro!” the blondie huffed, standing up off the couch as he shocked the other three teenagers. “y’all are confusing and annoying the shit out of me with this dumbass mystery thing, as if we’re in a fucking tv show! this is real life, okay?! we’re not gonna find fucking gold. listen, my favorite fucktoy walked out on me, okay, how the fuck am i supposed to pay attention?! also, i haven’t gotten high in, like, 25 hours and i’m getting withdrawals.”

the room stayed silent for a solid 6 seconds once JJ finished his stressed rant, the other teenagers looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. what the fuck was he talking about?

“uh, okay, let’s disregard the gold thing for a few minutes- what do you mean by ‘fucktoy’?” pope interrupted the silence, kiara nodding slowly in agreement to his statement.

JJ sighed and sat back on his spot on the couch, resting his forehead in his hands, “y/n, bro-“

“you fucked her?!” kiara exclaimed, her eyebrows furrowing in a mix of anger and confusion. “i literally told you that she was a bitch!”

“yo, don’t talk about her that way,” he lifted his head off his hands, “she’s actually cool, alright? i really, really like her.”

“so, then…what’s the problem?” john b shrugged slightly with raised eyebrows.

“that is the problem, dude! she’s pissed ‘cause we agreed on no actual feelings involved, but of course, i fucking folded.”

“such a bitch,” kiara mumbled, making JJ roll his eyes.

“i’m confused,” pope narrowed his eyes.

the boy groaned, “jesus, pope, how slow are you? she made me bust a couple times and now i’m ready for marriage!”

“woah-“

“look, J, you’ll get over her. there’s hundreds of hot girls on this island, you’ll be fine. now, can we please stay focused on becoming rich?” kiara spoke louder this time, cutting off pope’s shocked reaction to JJ’s explanation.

“whatever,” JJ mumbled as john b took the opportunity to plan out the next step to finding the mind-boggling gold.

they just didn’t get it.

maybe she is a hoe, JJ thought. maybe he was just another check off of the promiscuous girl’s list of dicks to suck. but, if she is a hoe, she certainly is his favorite.

y/n groaned as she woke up in another man’s bed.

after leaving JJ, she was desperate to find someone as good as him- but, she had been failing miserably.

they never made her feel as good as he did, and probably never will. JJ was different.

sex with these men was just boring. sure, they weren’t bad, but none of them were the best. it was just plain old sex. but, with JJ, it was like her pussy was made for him.

she couldn’t keep entertaining all these other boys anymore. she needed a man, she needed her man.

so, she swallowed her pride and typed up a text. ‘missing the taste of you’, she sent to him.

she was shocked when her phone dinged shortly after. ‘yeah? i’m missing the feeling of you’, he replied back to her.

yeah. that settles it. her pussy was made for him.

the teens continued their back and forth vulgar texts for the rest of the week. photographs of his dick being sent to her, voice memos of her cumming around a sex toy being sent to him.

‘i wanna see you again’, y/n said one day, and JJ would be idiotic to decline.

they agreed on a place and time. 2:00 AM in y/n’s bedroom. they clarified that there wouldn’t be much talking involved, they just wanted to feel each other’s bodies again.

he wanted to feel her juices pour onto his tongue as he pleasured her. she wanted to feel his cock stretching her out, she wanted to feel the mix of pleasure and pain.

so, there JJ was, exactly at 2:00 AM, in his favorite girl’s room.

there lips molded together in a heated makeout, his hands going down to grip her ass as they slowly moved towards the bed.

“wait, stop, wait,” JJ gasped out as he pulled away from the kiss when he felt her warm hand travel down his shorts. “we can’t do this, i’m sorry, but we can’t,”

“what? why?” she pulled her hands back as she looked at him with a face of confusion.

“because i still like you, y/n.”

her face fell as she sighed and stepped back, sitting on her bed. “yeah, i figured.” she sighed and looked down.

“look, y/n,” he situated himself in his shorts, trying his best not to focus on his raging hard-on, “i know that you have a boyfriend, but-“

“we broke up.” y/n cut him off when the words slipped from his mouth, making JJ’s heart stop.

“…what?” he breathed out, “really? wh-why?”

“i mean…sure, he was an okay boyfriend. but, he just…he just wasn’t you.”

JJ sucked in a breath at her words.

“i think i like you too, J.” she told him, just above a whisper.

“oh.” was all he could say, although in his mind he was celebrating her reciprocation.

“maybe…maybe we could go on a date or something?” she asked as she stood up again, walking towards him again.

“yeah, i…i’d like that,” he spoke quietly, cupping her face.

“i take back what i said,” he said, pecking her lips, “we can definitely do this.”

the couple spent the night making love, one round after another.

her moans were music to his ears, it felt like a reward for every good thing he’d ever done.

he’d do a thousand good things if it meant he’d get to fuck her everynight.

they stayed in each other’s arms all morning long, tracing shapes on one another’s bare skin.

“JJ?” y/n whispered into his neck as the sun shined on them through her window.

“yeah?”

“thank you for saving me.

[alimaybankkk]

gut-wrenching

summary: jj begs you to stay at his house to prevent his father from hurting him before a breakdown. when you’re there, you help him understand sympathy. the next morning, jj feels the same sympathy you described and also feels guilt.

warnings: mega mentions of abuse, jj’s shitty dad, MEGA ANGST, a bit of fluff but honestly mostly angst

pairing: jj maybank x kook!fem!reader

as you walked into his house, you regretted agreeing to jj’s protests for you to stay with him for the night. hours earlier, your blonde haired boyfriend had kissed you all over your face trying to convince you to come and sleep with him for the night, and you had eventually agreed.

“would be so nice. ‘m not allowed to come to your house no more because dad doesn’t let me. but i want to.” he’d cried, kissing your nose.

the hot tub bubbles surrounded you and you sighed. “jj, who cares what your dad says? he’s a dick. be a dick back.”

he frowned. “you don’t get it, do you, baby?”

you knit your eyebrows together, and eventually shook your head.

he sighed. “he said he’d break my nose if he heard ‘bout me being on figure eight again.”

you sighed, petting his wet hair. you felt terrible. the feeling was gut-wrenching. “you work there, though, right? at the country club?”

“yeah, i do.” he said, massaging your back. he turned on a jet and let it pound on your back. he knew it had been hurting a lot the past few days, and he’d been doing whatever he could to make you feel better. “he don’t care about me being on figure eight, to be honest. he just is mad ‘m dating the prettiest kook there is.”

you scoffed. “is that so?”

“yes, baby,” he kissed your cheek. “y’know, princess, he wanted me to rob you the other day.”

you gasped. your head felt like it was spinning. “what?”

“i didn’t—i didn’t do it, though, baby.”

“good,” you muttered. he kissed all over your face.

“he only cares that i don’t sleep your house. ‘cuz if i ain’t gonna steal, why go over at all?”

“oh. so he’s fine with you dating me?”

“yeah,” he said. he kissed your shoulder and sat up. “but he’s mad ‘cuz i didn’t rob you.”

“what?”

he chuckled. your heart dropped. you knew what he was about to say. “i haven’t been home in days, ‘cuz i know he plans to hurt me. but if you’re there, he ain’t gonna do it. gotta keep his reputation up, ‘m i right?”

your heart at the bottom of your stomach, your mouth open, and tears filling your eyes, you pulled him close into a hug and kissed the back of his head. “yes, j, you’re right.”

you felt the flutter of his adam’s apple when he let out a sob. he started crying tearless cries, holding onto your body like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “i hate it, i hate it!”

you cried with him, almost feeling the pain he felt. not almost—you did. you felt every bit of it. “i know. i know, j.”

“why won’t he stop?” he cried. you felt his tears coming down his face when they slid onto your back.

“jj, it’s okay. i love you so much. i’m coming over tonight, okay?? i’ll stay with you. i’ll do it. for however long you want me to.” you cried. tears slipped down your face, too.

“i love you. i love you. i love you, so much.” he sobbed. you tilted his body weight down, so you sat down together and you held him in your arms.

* now, you opened the door to jj’s house. it smelt like beer and weed. jj did both, but he never smelt like it. he was always able to clean it up and smell like some sort of tropical paradise or something.

so that way you knew it was luke. luke had contaminated jj’s air. you even heard coughing. but that wasn’t the worst thing you heard. it was definitely the loud music and the yelling. the floorboards creaked as you moved forward, praying jj wasn’t hurt.

music up to full blast, luke telling jj he was nothing but a disappointment, and jj’s cries and yells were the only thing you could hear. and so your breaths grew heavier and louder, faster and more panicked. you stepped into the hallway, watching the fight go down. you stayed quiet.

“SHUT UP!” yelled jj, his voice sounding like nothing but boyish cries. you only wanted to take him into your arms and kiss him until he felt better.

“you’re momma knew about you,” luke said, pointing his finger at jj. “if i woulda known you were gonna be like this, i woulda left with her. maybe then you would have shut your mouth in an orphanage, boy!”

luke went to swing at him, and jj sobbed. before luke could go any further, you cleared your throat.

they turned. jj’s eyes were droopy. it looked like he had no reaction. he just stared at you.

but luke chuckled and turned to you. “well, well, if it ain’t the kook princess!”

“mr. maybank,” you muttered breathlessly.

“you should be ashamed of yourself, girl,” he chuckled. jj got up quickly to protect you, but luke still hadn’t moved. “why would such a rich young lady want to date a bastard like him?”

you bit your lip. “i wouldn’t call him that, mr maybank.”

he bit the toothpick that had been in his mouth. “and why not?”

“your son, mr. maybank, is the sweetest boy i’ve ever met. i would say you raised him well but i’d be lying.”

he looked infuriated. jj shoved you out of the way so you wouldn’t get hurt, but even then luke hesitated.

“go on, now,” said luke. “i don’t wanna hear nothin from you two.”

“yes, sir,” you answered. you made sure jj was on the opposite side of luke as you followed him to his room.

jj immediately collapsed onto the foot of his bed, crying quietly. he didn’t want to anger his dad. besides, he knew that when you left he was going to hurt him anyway. he just didn’t wanna make it worse.

“j?” you said quietly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “are you okay?”

“get off of me,” he said quietly. you jerked your hand back quickly and sighed. you stood, grabbing your pillow and setting it next to the one that belonged to jj at the top of the bed.

“j, did he hit you?” you asked in a gentle voice.

he shook his head. “he was gonna. but you saved me. you stopped him. see what i mean? thank you, baby.”

you nodded, really wanting to hold him. but you didn’t want to touch him and scare him. “i didn’t do it just for you, you know?”

he looked up.

“i did it for me, too. every time i see you hurt, i feel your pain, too.”

he gave you a glare that suggested you were pushing it and you shut your mouth. when jj was vulnerable, he was ashamed of himself. he didn’t want to feel any more of the pain, so he shut down anything that might let him feel happy for sympathy.

“jj, you know i care about you, right?” you asked, placing your hand on his. you expected it to jerk away, but he only flinched slightly and sank into your touch.

“i know.”

you nodded, swallowing. “so you have to let me care about you. you need to let me hold you. you got to let me be honest with you.”

“honest, how?”

“j, if i let you get hit out there i honestly would have made him hit me, too. i promise you, jj. even my own injuries hurt less than what i feel knowing you’re hurt. can you understand that?”

he took a deep breath but finally nodded. “thank you.”

“i love you, okay?” you said, crawling closer to him. he nodded and kissed you, sighing right after.

“ ‘m sorry. it’s just, ‘m so scared that ‘m gonna be like him.” jj said. you felt your heart break.

“no,” you said. “you could never be like him. wanna know how i know that?”

he thought for a moment, then he said, “how?”

“because if you could treat someone important to you that way, you would have done it to me already.”

his frown turned into a smile. he sat up and kissed you, taking his time to lay down and cuddle with you after.

“when we have kids, i won’t do nothin’ to them. right?” he asked.

“right. i know you won’t.”

he looked you in the eyes, a glare shining like no other. “can you make sure i won’t?”

“i don’t have to.”

* the entire night had been the best feeling ever. knowing jj was safe and in your arms after waking up every hour to make sure of it relieved you like nothing before. the relief that flooded through you was so great that you almost cried, petting his hair and kissing his head for ten minutes straight before going back to bed. thankfully, he slept soundly through the night without your touch waking him.

jj was still asleep, buried deep in your chest with his arms around you when the sun shone through the windows and onto your eyelids, making them an orangish pink for you to wake up to.

you sighed of happiness, trying your best to wiggle out of bed without waking your sleeping boyfriend.

you creeped into the kitchen, hoping to find something you could cook for jj and have him wake to a good breakfast. you looked through the cabinets and the drawers, but almost everything was filled with beer.

and weed.

you sighed, knowing the beer was luke’s. you were looking through the last drawer when you heard footsteps, immediately regretting the fact that you had woke jj.

“jj, go back to sleep, i’m just gonna find something to eat for you, okay?” you asked, standing. when you stood, you saw that it was not jj, but luke. “oh, um… good morning mr. maybank?”

“i saw you going through my drawers and shit, girl, what do you want?” luke asked, coming closer.

you backed up to the counter, gripping it. “no, sir. i was just looking for something to make jj. he can get hangry if you know him. anyway, if you had other plans i can go back to bed.”

mr. maybank shook his head. “i don’t got no plans. wasn’t plannin on feedin him anyway. ‘sposed to punish him.”

“mr. maybank, sir, he has to eat. he hasn’t eaten in two days.”

“that’s his own fault. maybe he shouldn’t stay away from home for that long.”

you shook your head. “he has the right to eat. he’s starving. i heard hi stomach this morning.”

“you’re on his side?” luke asked, clenching his fists.

“no, sir, i—”

but you were punched. luke punched you over and over again, dropping you to the floor. blood sprayed on the floor and he kicked you in the gut.

you gasped for air but nothing came up. “mr..”

he stomped on your gut, punching you over and over again. there was a puddle of blood on the floor when he reached to punch your nose, but he was stopped.

jj had come in with a plastic foldable chair. “what is wrong with you??” he cried, kicking luke over and over again. first, he hit him with the chair, and then he grabbed a glass of beer from the table and poured it on top of him, smashing the glass right next to his face. he was sobbing, kicking and punching his father.

he drew his fists back, bloody and white. he cried, holding you tight. you could hardly move, but it was enough to drag jj’s foot away from luke, signaling not to fight anymore.

he cried more when he picked you up from the ground and carried you to his room. he sobbed on his bed, not only blood staining his sheets, but now also tears.

you could hardly talk, but it was enough to say, “i’m sorry, jj.”

he cried. “i know what you mean. i feel it. it’s gut-wrenching.”

“huh?”

“the—the feeling. like i feel your pain. but it feels worse.”

you nodded, just looking into his eyes with no emotion but pain. “jj, can we fix this, it… it hurts. am i going to die?”

jj broke at that, punching the wall. he hated luke so much. what kind of monster of a person would do that to someone?

he carried you to the bathroom and placed you on the counter. he lifted your shirt and gave you a tissue for your bloody nose. he disinfected your wound first and then cleaned it with water. you were not bleeding anymore, but he still had to patch you up.

there was another wound on the other side, so he copied the process and tenderly kissed it when he was done. he wet a rag in the sink and cleaned your face off, and soon you looked clean with a few cuts and a black eye, but you were no longer bleeding and you looked beautiful to him. he looked at you with eyes of nothing but love and a tear slipped from his eye. “i’m sorry. so sorry. i know i said i’d be safe here, but i didn’t think about you. well, i did, but i thought you would be safe, too. i’m moving out of here. i don’t care about my dad no more. i’m leaving and i’m moving into the chateau.”

you winced, suddenly feeling the pain once more. “move in with me. my parents love you. and i do too. i love you, jj.”

“i love you, too, pretty girl. i’ll never let this happen to you again.”

—————-——————————————————

a/n: bro. almost cried while writing this for some reason?? lots of angst.

part two here!

[baocean]

FRIENDS DON’T - JJ MAYBANK

Part 5 of my country series 😫

Summary: you weren’t exactly certain on how best friends acted around each other, but you knew it wasn’t how you and JJ did

Pairing: JJ x kook!reader

Note: it literally would not let me link the song, if you’re interested in listening as well the song is ‘Friends Don’t’ by Maddie & Tae

“No, sorry John B, I promised y/n I was gonna go to some event with her tonight.” JJ told his best friend, walking into an extra room in the chateau to look for a change of clothes.

“Dude, what the hell? You promised me we were going to the boneyard though!” John B followed him, throwing his hands up in protest.

“We’ll go another night, JB. This is more important.” JJ faced John B, giving him a apologetic look.

“You’re seriously choosing some bitchy kook event over a party with me?” John B was still putting up a fight as JJ threw his shirt off and replaced it with a white button up.

“Stop, dude.” JJ shot John B a warning look, making him back off.

You walked into the chateau at the same time, in a pretty mid thigh length white dress that made your tan skin shine.

“Y/n, that you?” JJ called out, running into the bathroom to look for a pair of khakis. He swore he left them in there.

“Yea, it’s me. Hey, John B!” You smiled at your brunette friend when he walked out of the room.

“Thanks for stealing my friend, y/n.” His lips were in a thin line, but you knew he was kidding.

“Sorry, I just needed a date.” You shrugged your shoulders, ducking your head into the room, speaking of your date.

“Couldn’t have asked Pope?” John B’s eyes narrowed and you laughed.

JJ walked out of the room, wearing a completely different outfit than you left him in two hours ago when you went to get ready yourself. You blushed.

“Hey, ready?” You asked and he nodded, the red reaching his cheeks as well. John B watched you two, mouth wide open.

JB wanted to say something to you two, you looked like middle schoolers seeing their crush at a school dance. He knew then you guys weren’t just friends.

“Let’s go.” JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him, peaking around at John B, watching him shake his head.

That night, the two of you were standing across from the table from one another, watching each others every move.

You had already gotten pulled away three different times, random friends asking you what kind of nerve you had bringing JJ to an event like this.

You didn’t care what anyone thought, JJ was being an amazing date tonight. He was your friend just as much as they were.

JJ had a glint in his eye and you were sure you had the same look. He smiled at you and your lips curved up as well, but no words were said.

JJ had been pulled away from you by Pope and you and Kie were off in a pretty blue gazebo, when two girls passed you, sneaking words to each other about your date.

Kie was still talking to you, but when you heard his name slip out of those girls lips you tried to find his blonde hair in the crowd. You felt sparks in your fingertips when you found his eyes already staring at you. He smiled, you smiled back.

“Y/n, are you still listening?” Kie asked you, putting her hand on your shoulder, you turned to her and nodded, mumbling an apology.

Two nights later, your phone was ringing at one am. You turned over and groaned, but your heart did a flip as you read JJ’s nickname in your contacts.

“J?” Was all you said when you picked up.

“Hey, did I wake you up?” His voice was low. It gave you chills.

“No, what’s up?” Your voice was a dead giveaway that you had been asleep. JJ noted what your sleepy voice sounded like.

“Just thinking about you. Wanted to say hi.” Your stomach sunk to your feet, a smile crept up on your lips.

“Hey.” You breathed out, not sure if he had even heard you.

“Can I pick you up?” He asked you. You weren’t sure what made you say yes, but you did. Your parents would quite literally kill you if you snuck out, and if they found out you snuck out to see JJ Maybank? You might as well dig your own grave. You still said yes, though.

When driving you home that night in the Twinkie, JJ made two wrong turns towards your house.

“Whoops! Looks like we’re adding another…seven minutes to our trip. Keep telling me about your story.” JJ looked over at you, giving you a smile.

You knew JJ was doing it on purpose and you were flattered by it. He would look over at you as your hair blew in the late night wind. He thought you didn’t notice, but everytime he looked over at you, your smile got a little bit bigger.

When JJ finally pulled into your driveway, the sun was almost coming up. He put the Twinkie into park and sat back into the seat, peaking over at you.

“I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you called.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking back at him.

He leaned in, but didn’t make any other mood than that. “I’m glad you picked up.”

The pogues, Sarah, and you had driven up into Nags Head to a bar that John B really liked.

You had vouched to be the designated driver that night, but JJ got completely trashed.

As the six of you were walking back to your car, JJ pulled you back from the rest of the group.

“Are you okay?” You asked him when he didn’t say anything after pulling your arm.

“I gotta tell you something.” He pushed blonde hair behind his ear.

“What’s up?” You replied, heart dropping when JJ grabbed onto your hand.

“I think I love-,” JJ was cut off by your friends calling for you two to hurry up.

When you looked back at him, he dropped your hand and shook his head, starting his drunk walk back up.

He was the last stop when dropping everyone off. JJ got out of your car and walked no more than twenty steps when you turned your car off and jumped out.

“J! What were you gonna say in Nags Head?” You asked him, still quite a few feet from him.

“Nothing. Something stupid probably, I don’t really remember.” He waved it off, kicking the dirt beneath his feet.

You stood there, keys in your hand, watching him watch you. He held a guilty look on his face. In all the years you’ve known JJ, you knew when he was lying.

“I don’t believe you. What were you going to say?” You asked him again.

“Seriously, it was nothing y/n. Goodnight.” JJ really was sobering up fast. He was probably already stone cold sober.

He knew him almost confessing his love to you tonight was easily on a top fifty list of stupidest things he’s ever done.

It wasn’t too fifteen, because JJ has done some pretty stupid shit, but it was still an easy top fifty.

He wanted to tell you but he knew you didn’t love him back. He knew your parents would never approve and that you’ve been set to marry some kook business man since you were old enough to walk. He knew you didn’t love him the same way he loved you.

“Are we friends?” Your question left him confused.

“Yes?” He answered, watching you stand there next to the hood of his car.

He stood there for a few more beats, and when he turned around to walk inside, you called out.

You knew what he was going to say just a few hours before. You knew the three words that were slipping from his lips. You mustered all your courage into three words. Three stupid, silly words that might ruin your entire friendship between the two of you. You told yourself it was worth it.

“I love you, too!”

He spun around so quick he thought he was going to fall.

“I love you, too.” You said again, only this time is was more of a whisper than a shout.

You thought his smile was brighter than any star you could have pointed up to that night.

When he took four big steps towards you, you leaned up on your tippy toes to meet him, your lips forming around his.

His hands came up to your face, leaning his forehead against yours as he gave you kiss after kiss.

“I love you.” He smiled into another kiss.

…..

[bradshawed]

sweets 🍓 — mr. jj maybank and kook!reader sneaking out to see other at the docks bc forbidden lovers 🤞

join the party!

It somehow turned angstier than I was expecting and damn I really took the whole forbidden lovers/romeo and juliet thing to town so this might not be exactly what you requested, but I hope you like it xx

You had a system with rules that were made to be followed. Your family didn’t have the stability that the Cameron’s did nor the wealth and power to control the outcome of a situation so risking your family’s reputation for a boy, nonetheless for a boy like JJ, was simply out of the question. That didn’t mean you didn’t do it anyway though…

The first time you tried to sneak out, your mum caught you..or more so she caught JJ and his infamous bike (that boy lacked any form of subtlety). It was more of a surprise that she willingly let you go, something about how she was much like you when she was younger and if you thought it was worth it, then he must be worth everything. But she didn’t let you both go without the talk and to be careful to not wake up your father. You both stumbled out of the house giggling to yourselves at JJ’s near heart attack.

As the days went on, you were both getting much better at sneaking out and following your system. It all worked perfectly until he decided he wanted you to meet his friends, that’s when the system damn near fell apart.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet them, you did, but you were also increasingly aware at the risk it would bring. You wouldn’t be able to hide that you knew them, none of you could, and that in itself brought its own set of problems. So you did what any normal teenager would do and said fuck it and met them anyway. (There was a reason JJ liked you and trust me, he was well aware of your hidden rebellious streak.)

The third time is when it all fell apart. You snuck out of your window and onto JJ’s bike, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling your head into the crook of his neck. It was ridiculous how perfectly your body fit his.

You reached your spot by the docks where you lay next to each other, a mess of limbs, sweet kisses shared between “look at the stars” and “that looks like the Chateau, there..right there, you see it?”

You’d both decided to stay to watch the sunrise before heading back and that was your first mistake.

Driving back, cheesy smiles on your faces, you departed with loving “I’ll see you later’s” and “just one more kiss, please baby” as you finally climbing into your room where your father stood with a disappointed look on his face. It was never meant to be.

You both fought for each other and you tried to get him to see reason but some things you just can’t control, and tears sliding down your face as you departed the island for the last time was one of those.

[thecameronchronicles]

Mrs Clause

TW: Smut. Language. Semi-public sex. 

SUMMARY: A specific outfit makes JJ act out during the holidays. Fic written from his POV.

WORD COUNT: 1400

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Xmas request 🎄 reader dressing up as (slutty)mrs claus for JJ as a joke but he gets really turned on

Mrs Clause

JJs POV

I hated Christmas for all the reasons she loved it. Family. Gifts. Both luxuries I never knew as the means for enjoyment. And even in her attempts to make our first Christmas together festive and joyous, all I wanted was for it to be over. Decorating the tree only reminded me of how I couldn't afford the gifts she deserved to have beneath it. It was a consistent contrast in my decision to fall for a Kook. And yet, if I was entirely honest with myself, I didn't have much of a choice. Much like the circumstances we were both born into in vast contradiction, I was destined to be indebted to get sensuality as she seemed to pity me long enough to entertain the idea of a life with me. But there had been one detail I was well aware nobody prior to me had shown her and this was that I would never take her for granted. 

"Are you ready?" She called from the bathroom door of her bedroom as she had been in wait for what felt like an eternity. Playing with the fringe of a pillow as gaudy as it was comfortable, my eyes lifted to find her in an unfair ensemble. 

"Does THIS change your mind about Christmas?" She asked as I was far too stunned to speak. Of course, she was always stunning. From the moment she awoke to the second she'd gone to sleep, moments were stolen in silent admiration. But this was something different entierly. 

"If Mrs. Clause would have looked like this when I was younger, I might have behaved more …" She pursed her lips and made the journey to stand between my thighs. My fingers were already quick to rise up her stocking clad skin as I clenched my jaw while ascending higher. The feeling of the faux fur on the edge of her costume did nothing to deter me as a thin skirt traced my knuckles. 

"I prefer it when you don't …" She spoke seductively, leaning close enough to smell that pear based perfume I loved in compassion to the coconut shampoo I often ran through her hair in the baths we shared. But in this moment now, I wanted to bend, pull, and ravage her as quickly as possible. 

"If you think that I'm above tearing this thing to shreds with my teeth-" 

"I was actually hoping you'd just fuck me in it, JJ…it's already ruined with how wet I am just thinking of what you'd do to get it off of me." But in the attempt to test if she had been bluffing, a knock came to her bedroom door and a palm wrapped around my mouth. 

"Y-yes?" She stuttered as my fingers made their way beneath the fabric. 

"You weren't joking sweetheart, you're fucking soaked for me…" I spoke as the pleasure I left behind by my touch was enough to warrant her to drop her hand. 

"What?" She asked to her mother's muffled voice. 

"No, I'm not hungry!" She shot back. "Just go without me tonight!"

"But Topper is looking forward to seeing you…" My eyes narrowed to her. 

"Oh really?"

"Shhh-" I took my hand to the back of her neck and forced a second finger to station at rest inside of her. 

"Bet he would never be able to have you make that face…" 

"Please….just wait…"

"Nuh uh, princess. You wanted to wear something like this for this very reaction." I lifted her into a spin until setting her at rest at her back. But I was quick to correct her positioning. 

"Nice girls get to lay on their backs…naughty girls go on their knees…" I groaned into her shoulder as I pulled those thin straps down in disregard before kissing that soft skin. All to incite those little moans. Ones I didn't care who heard as they were well aware I was present. Even if they wished me away, her desire to need me here was enough to ignore their damning glares and incessant need to make their daughter the future Thornton Stepford wife. 

"You're my naughty girl, aren't you, sweetheart?" I questioned with a wide grin as she turned back and nodded. 

"And usually my naughty girl shows me that on her knees, doesn't she?" She shifted to place herself this way, but my swat to her ass kept her in place as she berated me for making our exchange vocal. 

"Should have thought of that before wearing this…" I hovered behind her, my lips over her ear. 

"And you only wear this for me, understand?"

"You mean I can't wear it for Top? He'd love it, I just know it-" I took hold of her jaw and turned her to face me. I didn't care to remove the outfit from her any longer as I had planned to take my time. Instead, it appeared I had to remind her of what her teasing cost her. 

For this, I would pull the fabric of her ensemble to the side before teasing her desperate pussy with my cock. God, I lived to feel her. Nobody else ever felt like her. Nobody else took me as deep or that well. And it was enough to risk the wrath of either of her parents and even the unified Figure Eight as they tried to keep us apart. 

"Fuck-" She gasped as I smirked behind her. 

"My little Santa baby getting fucked in her cute little outfit…the same one I'm gonna make you come in so if you even think of wearing this around anyone else, they'll know I fuck you right." 

"JJ-"

"And in case that isn't enough…" I pulled her to my chest, kissing her lips until they were swollen and she was breathless, lowering to her neck and leaving marks on her skin. 

"Nobody will question it."

"They never do." She breathed with pride, never shameful to announce she was mine. At least not in public. In private, she didn't want to be heard. I guess I couldn't blame her in this instance as it would have been awkward to make eye contact to her calling me daddy as her biological one had learned how his little girl liked getting fucked just a few meters from his own room. And a part of me was thrilled by it. That same part rushing into her as she took me as well as always. 

"You're so close for me, sweetheart…" I narrated as she nodded, sweat and desperation between us.

"Please-"

"One more time, princess. Loud enough so I can hear you over how well you're taking me like this…"

She hesitated, "I know you can baby…you didn't take my cock…I know you can scream. .so fucking scream for me…"

"JJ-"

"Louder-"

"JJ!!"

Her name was sung by my own groans at war behind clenched teeth as she tensed around me. 

"I'm gonna come, princess…"

"Yes, JJ!"

"This fucking outfit is gonna wear both of us, isn't it?" 

"Yes…" She breathed one final time as I found paradise between her thighs once again. 

"You know I AM expecting you to dress up as sexy santa…" She teased as I fixed her ensemble while playing with the faux spheres left to imitate the sight of buttons. 

"I'll even sit on your lap-" She teased as I took hold of the back of her neck and rested my lips to her ear from behind. 

"You sit on my lap in this and you'll only get to come by riding my thigh-" She turned, a hand to my chest forcing me back to the edge of the bed. 

"Do you want me to tell you what I want for Christmas?" She asked with a playful batting of her lashes. 

"Oh, I already know. And you'll get well into New Years- " I asked while she began to rock into me, my thigh tightening and she rode a second high. 

Maybe I would find a way to like Christmas after all…even if this was shaping out to be anything but a silent night…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

[featherandferns]

gamble (fic)

jj maybank x fem!kook!reader | technically a sequel to risk (read here!) but can probably be read as a standalone too!

content warnings: physical v!olence; mentions of sex (fem receiving); kook assholes

word count: 22k. (get a warm drink and strap tf in)

blurb: you love JJ Maybank for who he is, but as more people find out, more secrets are uncovered, things start to feel different. Why does it suddenly feel like JJ's keeping things from you? And why does he never tell you that he loves you back?

You used to have trouble sleeping. It felt as though someone was always lurking in the background of your mind, passing through the backdrop of your dreams like an extra in a movie. Overtime, it came and went. You got used to the occasional insomnia. But after JJ, you slept soundly at night. It was such an eerie shift that you wondered if it was him. If JJ was the one that had been lingering in the back of your mind, as though the universe had saved space for him in your life before he’d even entered it. 

The Maybank name was infamous on Kildare Island. You weren’t oblivious to the reputation that was tied to it nor were you oblivious to JJ Maybank himself. He was like a comet shower: unpredictable and unavoidable. Girls were drawn to him the same way he was drawn to trouble, and you were seemingly no exception. But you admired from afar. You’d catch glimpses of him during Sunday service, back when JJ was practically forced to attend. Subtly trying to glance over your dad’s body, you’d make out his shaggy sun-bleached blonde hair, free from his usually caps, and the way that his creased dress shirt sat unnaturally on his ever-strengthening frame. Then, he vanished from the church. You think it had to do with his mother, come to think. You knew little of JJ’s family but you never took Luke for a big bible-thumping man. People no longer wanted to help JJ. No, they wanted to leave him to the fishes. He can make his own bed, they’d sigh, and he can lie in it. A twin of his father, they’d sigh. A lost cause.

You didn’t believe in that. JJ had changed the trajectory of your life. He was the sunlight beaming down on your days of grey. He was the throttle in your beat-down tin box car. He was the album that you never knew existed but never wanted to be without again. He brought colour to your bubblewrap Kook life. Blinding red and brilliant yellow and haunting blue. Adrenaline and lust and happiness. 

JJ squints his eyes open. 

“Quit it!” you scold with a smile. 

“Just wanna look at you,” he mumbles. There’s a dopey smile on his lips as his eyes close once more. You laugh quietly and roll your eyes and shake your head. You’re sat, straddled, on his lower stomach. In one hand is a tub of Clinique clay face mask, your other hand dirtied at the fingers. JJ’s hands are resting on your bare thighs, fingers rubbing mindless patterns, up and down, in hardly-there massages of the flesh. The cool, damp clay smears across his cheeks and you rub it in with the pads of your fingers. It’s a nice excuse to touch him - not that you need an excuse. The tips of your acrylic nails barely scratch the surface of his skin as you wipe the facemask under his eyes and around his temples, painting it along his cheeks and chin. There’s the faint scratch of his growing back stubble that poetically contrasts the soft peach fuzz atop of his boyish features. 

“Is it stinging?” you check. 

“No,” he hums. He sounds relaxed. He looks it, too, sunken into your bedding, head propped atop of throw pillows, a lilypad in a sea of comfort. You wipe your hands clean on an Egyptian cotton towel before leaning over and digging about in your make-up bag. You subject JJ to lip scrub, gel-cooler pads on the eyes, and even eyelash and eyebrow serum. JJ takes it all willingly. You think he secretly enjoys how doting you are of him. Enjoys the attention and the pamper and the care taken for such insignificant things. 

“For someone who washes, like, twice a week, you have incredible skin,” you murmur, a little envious. 

“Hey! I wash more than twice a week!”

“Going in the sea doesn’t count as a shower. You know that, right? It’s important to me that you know that.”

At your teasing, JJ squeezes your thighs. Not hard enough to hurt; enough to draw a giggle. A warm, damp washcloth wipes his skin clear. You treat him with toner and moisturiser and facial spray and lip balm. His eyes remain closed, blissful, as you go about the motions. He’s adorable like this. Nobody would believe you if you told them that you gave JJ Maybank a spa-like pamper treatment. This side of him was just for you. You could tell by the way it took very little convincing for him to allow you to do it. Leaning down, you plant a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Done,” you brightly announce. 

Sighing, JJ blinks his eyes open and sits up onto his elbows. His hands slide down from your thighs to your knees. As he wakes up his muscles and joints from their hour long break, you reach for the mirror that lies on the comforter of your bed and hold it out before him so he can see his reflection. JJ pulls a face as if impressed by the glow of his skin and you grin. 

“Feels nice, right?” 

JJ runs a finger along his jaw as if admiring your handy-work. “I’ll say,” he grins. 

His hands suddenly land on your hips and JJ tugs you down towards him. Giggling, the mirror flops back onto the plush duvet as you gladly fall into his hold. You catch yourself with a hand by his head and another on his firm upper chest. God, it’s not fair. He’s so pretty it hurts. Your lips slot against his. The combination of oils and scrubs and balms taste sweet and tangy. JJ’s greedy with his touch, his hands slinking around to your backside, palming leisurely at the flesh. Pulling apart for breath, JJ’s hooded eyes flit between your damp lips and shining eyes. A telling smirk grows on his handsome face. 

“What’d you say I give you a facial too, huh?”

“You’re gross,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes. JJ sniggers and you can’t take the distance much longer. You quiet him with your mouth. He sinks into your kisses like he sinks into your bed. It’s like a dance, the way your lips move together. The push and pull: hard then soft. It’s like he’s Jekyll and Hyde, debating how to be. Whether to savour it or take it. His fingertips tease at your skin and you sigh contently against his lips. Like a fire, it simmers to a warm burn then sparks up again with newfound kindling. You rock against him, feeling him under his shorts, trying not to smirk at the ego boost of knowing how much you affect him. It’s not like it’s one way though. Nobody had ever had you like JJ Maybank did. 

JJ’s fingers slip into your hair. It’s still damp from washing it, unstyled and untamed atop of your head. Before, you wouldn’t dream of letting someone see you so unkept, but with JJ it was different. He saw through all of that anyway. The glitz and glamour was a part of you but it didn’t make you. His lips draw away from yours and he’s breathing heavy, hot against your skin, as he chases your jaw and your neck. You sigh at the lubricious kisses against the tender skin. The toe-curling sensation of his teeth scratching the surface just-so, never enough to break, never enough to hurt. 

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against you. He inhales as if he wants you in his lungs like vapour. You pull his lips back to yours, alight once more. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

“You talk too much,” you tell him against his mouth. He sort of chuckles. 

“Like that’s ever bothered you.”

“Shush,” you hurry out, kissing him harder, deeper. His tongue lewdly brushes yours. 

Neither of you can keep your hands to yourself. Neither of you can keep still. There’s no thought safe from JJ. No desire or wish. He’s everything, all consuming, as if he’s brainwashed you. 

“Prettiest girl in Kildare County.”

“Prettiest boy in North Carolina.”

“Always gotta one up me,” JJ sniggers. 

Hands and lips and tongue and teeth. Your heart races in your chest, lungs short of air. It’s giggly and erotic and romantic and there’s nothing else in the room, in the world, than JJ and you. His fingers finally find the lace fringing of your panties and your lips smile instinctively at the promise of what would follow. You go to decorate his jawline with hickeys as if painting a Monet. The sounds he makes are your favourite. Some whining-type groan, mixed amongst sighs and heavy breathes. Incoherent praises through mumbling lips. 

“Ew!”

Like a sledgehammer to an ice sheet, the moment is shattered. You pull back with furrowed brows, staring down at a cringing JJ. 

“Ranger! Get off!”

Your head whips around to find your darling geriatric golden retriever licking the fuck out of JJ’s feet. JJ keeps trying to kick his foot away but Ranger is obsessed, following after it. You laugh. 

“Ranger, I don’t think you wanna do that. God knows the last time he washed those dogs.”

“Hey!” JJ protests at your reasonable comment. You turn back to him with a playful grin. He leans up and kisses you fleetingly on the lips. “It’s a good thing you’re hot,” he jokingly tells you. 

“Could say the same thing to you.”

“Ranger! Seriously, man!” 

You’re gently tossed off JJ’s body, tumbling into the sheets with a laugh, as JJ gets up and frees his feet from Ranger’s affection. Rolling onto your side, you smile as you watch your boyfriend fuss your dog whilst he tries his best to discipline. The bracelet you made him sits safe on his wrist: seashells and blue and white and silver beads framing the two letters JJ. It’s a sister bracelet to your own which JJ rather persistently requested you make: seashells and blue and white and silver beads framing your own initials. 

“You know,” you start to say, “I sometimes wonder if you’re with me for my dog.”

“You’re crazy.” Looking over to you, his grin is his tell. “I’m with you for your money.”

Gasping, you grab for one of the many, many throw pillows and toss it at him. JJ bats it away with a laugh. You continue your onslaught with JellyCat children and cushions and through your combined laughter, JJ crawls over to you, coaxing you onto your back, looming over you. You smile up at him. He’s pretty like this. No, he’s pretty whatever way you look at him. It’s like he’s the night sky. No matter where you are, when you are, how you view it: it’s breathtaking. 

“Hi,” you giggle. 

His blue eyes held so many layers of emotion, fragile like the casing of a bomb. They peer into your soul and you feel seen, truly seen, by him. 

“Hi.” 

His eyes glance down at your lips. This kiss is different. It’s slower and languid. He takes his time as if he’s mapping every muscle in your lips to memory. Sighing as he pulls away, you gaze up at him. The words fall out of some corner of your mind and topple out your mouth. 

“I want you to meet my parents.”

JJ’s smile flickers like a dying lightbulb. “What?”

“My parents,” you mumble, lifting a finger to stroke dotingly at the apple of his cheek. “I want you to meet them.”

“What? So you can see my execution up close?”

“JJ!”

Laughing, he rolls off you and lands by your side with a gentle thud. Rubbing at his face, he says, “babe, your parents are not gonna like me.”

“You don’t know that,” you say. He gives you a look that reads as ‘really?’ “JJ, my parents aren’t some stuck-up snobs.”

The look intensifies. 

“What? You think I’m a stuck-up snob?”

The look reaches its limit. Rolling your eyes, you gently bat at his face and he snorts. “Come on! I want you to meet them. And I know they want to meet you.”

Panic flashes across his face. “You told ‘em about me?”

“No, not fully. Just that I’m dating someone,” you say. “But the church is full of gossips so...”

“Pretty sure the bible frowns upon that,” he mumbles. 

“Well, tell that to Mrs Dulamy. But only if you want to lose a limb.”

JJ stares at the ceiling and you stare at him. You can hear Ranger at the foot of your queen-sized bed, sighing as though his life is filled with stress before he settles down to rest. You reach out and rest your hand on JJ’s chest, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt. His eyes slowly look over to you and you smile smally. 

“I just want them to meet the guy that I’m crazy about,” you quietly say. 

“You really think they’re gonna like me?” he asks you after a moment’s thought. 

“I think they know me well enough to know I wouldn’t fall in love with the wrong person,” you reassure him. “So, yeah, I think they’re gonna like you.”

JJ sighs and contemplates the offer. “When would this be?”

“Tuesday? They get back from their cruise Monday afternoon.”

“One dinner?” 

“One dinner.”

“What happens if I say no?” JJ wonders, his tone almost joking. 

The truth? You’d never force JJ to do something he didn’t want to do. You know this wasn’t his world. Family dinners and expensive parties and bible study-groups. He dipped his toes in as much as he felt comfortable when with you but you wouldn’t push him in, head first in the deep end. For now, you were more than happy to settle for the occasional pamper night and meal at the Wreck. Besides, his life was always more exciting than yours. As long as you got to keep your jewellery and make-up, you would happily be a Pogue. 

But for now, you pretend to seriously consider his question. “I won’t put out for a week.”

His mouth drops open in horror. “What?”

Shrugging, you roll onto your back. “Those are my conditions.”

“That’s blackmail!”

“No, it isn’t,” you say casually. “Blackmail is when I have something on you that I decide to hold against you.”

“Alright, well then it’s jus’ mean,” JJ replies. Giggling, you look at him. He begins to smirk. “Like you’d be able to go that long without it anyway.”

Quirking a brow, amused, you say, “you certainly think a lot of yourself.”

“I’m just goin’ off what I’ve heard,” he grins. Scrunching his eyes up, his voice goes up an octave as JJ mimics you. “Oh! Just like that, JJ! Feels so good!”

“Hey!” you laugh, lunging over and playfully attacking him. “I do not sound like that!”

“Harder, harder!”

JJ catches your wrists easily, stalling your lazy so-called hits. You shake your head, smiling down at him. 

“You look good like this,” he says. 

“You look good all the time,” you reply. 

“Damn straight, princess,” he grins, pulling you down so your lips meet his. Between kisses, he asks, “but really? What’s in it for me?”

“Apart from a nice meal?” you say. “I’ll let you take me fishing again.”

���Meh,” he shrugs. 

You look down at him with a small, sultry smile. “And I’ll let you do that thing you like.”

A grin slowly unfurls on his face. His kiss is overly hard and passionate and it makes you laugh against him, as he somehow spins the two of you so you’re on your back once more. Before JJ can do things that will make you forget your own name, he gives his answer. 

“Sold.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The musty smell of aged wood and cold stone floors somehow compliments the overpowering notes of designer perfume that exudes off the girls you sit between. They sit in their Sunday bests; hair styled to perfection without a single strand out of place, their  heads hung in prayer. The wooden pews are uncomfortable and your throat is dry from the air conditioning. Your lips move absentmindedly through the prayers that you’ve been saying for as long as you were able to form words. 

“In Jesus’s name we pray. Amen,” you say in unison with the others. Lifting your head, you watch Father Jude walk up to the ornate podium. There’s a peaceful, friendly smile on his weathered features. 

“Father Jude talks like it’s going out of fashion,” Bethany mutters. The girls snort and giggle under breath and your own lips twitch in a small smile, not necessarily disagreeing. 

“He’s kind of a DILF though, don’t you think?” Ashley whispers. You cringe. 

“Ashley, that is so gross,” Daisy sniggers. 

Bethany, Ashley and Daisy. The Bible Bitches, as JJ had lovingly deemed them. 

“And we ask, Lord, won’t you guide us to be truthful? For is it not the teachings of the bible - is it not the word of Jesus Christ himself - that we should be truthful to ourselves, not only to others?” Father Jude preaches. 

“Psst.”

You look to your left and meet Ashley’s gaze. Her eyes are doe-like but they aren’t innocent. They fit well on her love-heart shaped face. In hushed tones, she asks, “is it true that you and Maybank are, like, official now?”

You nod. An unfamiliar smile appears on her face. It prickles you like a thorn. “How do you find him?”

Brows tugging, unsure of her meaning, you shrug. “Usually at his friend’s house.”

“No, no,” she sighs. “I mean, how do you find him in bed? Is he kinda freaky with it or…”

Your temper ticks just enough for a sharp rush of adrenaline to wash through your veins. Saving you having to catch your tongue. Bethany leans over to whisper, “Ashley, are you seriously talking about sex in the church right now?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Daisy giggles, thumbing her pearl necklace. 

“What! I’m just asking the important questions!” Ashley replies, grinning like there’s some great joke at play. 

Your face contorts in disgust and disapproval. 

“Just as Ephesians says, 4:25. Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbour, for we are all members of one body.”

Her brows twitch up as she licks leisurely at her teeth. Before she speaks, you know you won’t like whatever she’ll say next. “Just trying to get a group census for her boytoy.”

“Shush!”

Startling in your seats, you all turn to meet the eyes of one of the longtime church attendees. Her elderly features are downturned in disapproval, probably much like your own. 

“Sorry, Mrs Dulamy,” Ashley whispers, turning back to the front with the others. The girls erupt in barely stifled giggles and you do your best not to roll your eyes. You don’t want to feed into unnecessary drama which would circulate for the next week. It’s easier to pretend like you enjoy their fraudulent friendship. They were the kind of kooks JJ hated. The kind that thought Pogues were bred to mow lawns and buss tables, and the kinds who would borderline emotionally abuse their boyfriends to get gifts out of them. Daisy would console you in one moment and then recount the story with fabricated fill-ins within the next. Ashley would pick and choose who was her favourite depending on who had the best social footing. You trusted Ashley as far as you could throw her. Bethany was the most bearable of the trio. You’d confide in her the most, though only bits and pieces which would do no harm if they were to make it into Figure Eight. Before, you settled for their questionable morals to have company, but now you have the Pogues and have experienced real, true friendship, and it was as if you saw the Bible bitches in a whole new light. The rose coloured glasses were off. 

Father Jude smiles lovingly at the gathering of people. “So, I ask of you all, to live life in truth, and encourage others to live truthfully too. As the Proverbs say: an honest witness tells the truth, but a false witness tells lies.”

Hums and approving nods occur across the room like an unnatural current. The girls stay quiet for the rest of the service and the conversation doesn’t pick up until after closing prayers. As the bells chime for midday and everybody rises to leave, Daisy speaks first. 

“So, my parents are out on Thursday night. I was thinking about a bible study?”

Bible study was code for girls’ night. Someone would sneak their parent’s wine and you’d all drink and bitch and occasionally glance down at your bibles. 

“I’m in,” Bethany nods. 

“Sure,” Ashley agrees. She looks over her shoulder at you and flashes you this Cheshire cat grin. “I wanna hear about Pogue boy.”

“I’ll see if I can come,” you say, shooting a not-so-subtle glare at Ashley. “My parents get back tomorrow so they might want some family time.”

It was a half-truth. You would much rather spend your time with JJ, either with or without the added company of the Pogues. The pair of you were a little attached at the hip. As Daisy and Bethany discuss the latest episode of the Bachelor, you follow the stream of people out into the streets of North Carolina. The sun beats down hard on the concrete. Fans appear to manifest out of thin air as church goers fan themselves. Your eyes search the space for JJ and you find him waiting for you across the street, looking like some James Dean heartthrob from the fifties. He leans against his red dirt bike; toned, sun kissed skin delectable under a white t-shirt. Dressed in cargo shorts and combat boots, as if his beauty wasn’t enough to have him stand out from the others. You smile at the sight of him, smitten all over again. 

“Damn. He looks good in white,” Ashley mutters. 

Despite your jealousy, she isn’t wrong. Turning to them, you say, “I’ll see you guys later” and then gladly cross the street to meet JJ. 

“Hey,” you smile. You close the gap between the two of you and loop your arms around his shoulders. Mostly for yourself but partly to remind Ashley who JJ belongs to, you push up onto your toes and press a kiss to his lips. They’re salty from the sea and grainy from the sand. He smells like aftershave and sunscreen and a hint of weed. One of his hands comes to rest on your waist. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Well, you have a promise to keep,” JJ reminds you. His fingers toy with the fabric of your dress. The length of it sits just above the knee, the neckline shy of being too revealing for a Sunday service. You garnished yourself with jewellery: earrings and layered necklaces and a thick bracelet. “You look pretty.”

Your cheeks grow warm at the easy compliment but you try to play it cool. “You helped me get dressed.”

“Think helped might be a strong word,” he grins. It was true. If anything, he hindered the process. Looking over your shoulder, he gives a slight nod. “Your pack is watching.”

Glancing over, you make out the Bible Bitches ogling with the rest of the gaggle of church attendees. Mr and Mrs Mantash stand out in their cream yellow attire, murmuring to one another, eyes trained on you and your boyfriend. Rolling your eyes as you look back to him, you change topic. “Fishing?”

“Fishing,” JJ confirms. 

You take your usual spot behind JJ on his bike. Arms looping around his waist, you tether yourself to his firm middle. You can remember the first time you rode on his bike. The adrenaline spike and the hammering heart as JJ raced the two of you down the roads. Now, it’s as second nature to you as hopping on a bus. JJ revs the engine to spite the spectators and you giggle. Then, the two of you take off down the road, away from Figure Eight and out towards the Cut. You watch the scenery zip past you as the wind creates a dull sting in your eyes. Under his shirt, you can feel JJ’s stomach tense at every dip and corner. The stifling nature of the kook bubble you’ve lived most of your life in fades with every yard and as it does, you feel as though the air gets lighter and your lungs get wider. 

The two of you park in a small lot beside a walkway. It leads down to a wooden pier that's immersed in a scenic marsh. The greenery spans across the water and expands out as far as you can see, perfectly outlining avenues of water that house gators and fish. JJ’s fishing gear is already set up. It’s a quiet spot that few know about aside from locals and it seems JJ has a good enough relationship with the regulars to trust his rig won’t get stolen. Besides, he’d probably just steal it back. His hand is clammy in your hold, the metal of his rings warm against your fingers. Then begins the dance of prepping the rods. You watch over his shoulder as he messes with hooks and lines. 

“You remember how to do this from the last time I showed you?” JJ asks you. His fingers work meticulously at the hook as he fastens it to the line and rod. You’re mesmerised by his intricacy, thoughts happily wandering towards the gutter. 

“Sort of,” you mumble, not fully present. 

“A’right,” he hums. “Pass me the bait.”

You do as he asks and retrieve a small, pink shrimp. Your mind immediately makes the connection and at your dawdling, JJ turns to look at you as you begin to giggle. Gently puppeting the shrimp, through your laughter, you imitate in a strange, high-pitched voice: “and the other thing is, my sister had a baby and I took it over after she passed away, and the baby lost all its legs and arms and now it’s just a stump but–”

Rolling his eyes, grinning, JJ takes the shrimp from you. “Such a dork.”

You laugh and wipe your fingers on his shirt, drawing another chuckle from him. 

“You watchin’, baby?” he checks. You nod and calm yourself and watch as he hooks the shrimp onto the hook. Holding the rod out to you, you take it with your free hand and wait as JJ sorts out his own rod. Soon enough, you’re guided on how to throw the line into the water. Then, your favourite part: the waiting. Rods lying against the railing of the pier, you and JJ stand side by side, your head resting on his chest. He’s vaping a dab pen and the mango-infused vapour pleasantly scents the air before the two of you. Your feet are turned in towards him like tree roots searching for safety. Birds coo and call in the distance, sweeping over the water and teasing the fish below the surface. The sky's spotless blue and bright with daylight. You feel a little guilty for breaking the serenity of the moment. 

“So…You going to finally tell me why Rafe and his gang of fairies wanted to kill you and Pope the other day?”

JJ’s breathing stutters, though you wouldn’t notice if it weren’t for your ear against his chest. “Like they need a reason to be dicks.”

“They don’t,” you hum in agreement. “But neither do you, so.”

“So?”

“They don’t pick fights for absolutely no reason.”

“Hm,” JJ says, clearly not in full agreement. 

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right? Like, I’m always going to be on your side,” you remind him quietly. JJ’s hand finds your hip easy and he squeezes. 

“I know,” he mutters. “Jus’ don’t want you thinking less of me.”

“Less of you how?”

“I don’t always make the right decisions,” JJ says, almost embarrassed. Snorting, you glance up at him. 

“Like I didn’t know that?” JJ’s bemused furrowed brows prompt you to continue. “JJ, we went to Sunday school together. I think you hold the record for being kicked out of class.”

“Fair point.”

A breeze comes and it’s a nice excuse to inch slightly closer. Rafe’s threat to you hasn’t escaped your mind. Knowing that the gang still had their aims set on yourself and JJ, and the other Pogues too, obviously didn’t thrill you. But that came with the gig. Avoiding an obnoxious asshole was a pretty small side-effect to a drug like JJ Maybank. So, to lighten the mood, stepping away from him, you plant your hands on your waist and jut your chin up. “Well, I’ll protect you if anything else happens. I’m an armed woman now.”

Raising a brow, smiling, JJ says, “you gonna protect me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod. 

“But then who’s gonna protect you?” With that, he grabs at you and tosses you over his shoulder. Screeching, giggling, smacking lightly at his back, JJ wanders over to the railing. 

“Put me down, Maybank! Put me down!”

“Can’t hear you princess!” JJ loudly remarks. “Maybe you ought’a pray for help.”

“I’ll scream!”

“Knock yourself out,” JJ smugly says. But you don’t. You just laugh and continue to natter for him to put you down and after he pretends like he might throw you in, he relents. You gaze up at him, your limbs still tethered. 

“I’ve got your back,” you say, breath now caught, laughter contained. “I trust you.”

“I know,” JJ nods. He’s visibly uneasy by your brazen honesty. You get the feeling that he’s not used to someone being so openly in love with him. So carefree in their affection. So willing to show it.

“I love you," you smile.

A smile come fights onto his face. As he dips his head and your eyes slip shut, anticipating the familiar feel of his lips on yours, he pauses. Then: “yo! Yo! You got’a bite!”

“Huh?” you ask, opening your eyes. 

“Fish on!”

You swiftly turn to your rod to see it twitching, telling of a bite. Gasping, you rush to grab at the handle and awkwardly manoeuvre your hands in the way JJ taught you. He hovers by your side, his larger hands shadowing yours. 

“You remember how I showed you right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” you mumble, brows furrowed in concentration as you try to reel in your catch. But your arms start to ache and you feel as though the line is endless. “I can’t do it, JayJ.”

“You can, you can,” he encourages. “Reel it in faster, baby.”

“I can’t!” 

“A’right, give it here.”

JJ’s hands are warm as they encase your own. You let JJ do most of the work as he pulls the fish in, and the grunts of effort beside your ear should not be as erotic as they are given the moment and your saintly Sunday start. Soon enough, the line reaches its end and a fish emerges through the water, hanging from the hook. You giggle excitedly at the sight. 

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout, baby! Woo!” JJ whoops. “Get the net, get the net!”

You scramble and do as he says, ducking under his arm. You hang the net just below the fish and help JJ guide your catch onto the pier. There, JJ tactfully removes the fish from the hook and holds it up. The grin on his face is like a schoolboy who just scored his first goal. He’s radiant like this. You smile wider, prouder. 

“Hell yeah! That’s a flounder right there baby! Hell of a boy too!” JJ gloats. Laughing, body thurming with excitement and adrenaline, you watch as JJ preps the catch for the cooler. Once everything is squared away, JJ strides over to you and captures your cheeks between his hands. His lips press to yours in a short kiss and you giggle and groan, trying to squirm out of his hold. 

“Ew, JJ, your hands are all fishy,” you carp. “S’gonna ruin my make-up.”

“Bite me,” JJ grins, kissing you again. It’s a good way to quell your complaining. Good way to derail your thoughts, too. 

Later, after John B has picked the two of you up (JJ riding the bike home), the two of you find yourselves shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen counter of the Chateau (though JJ is a good head taller than you). The pungent smell of fish makes you feel as though you’re fifty feet below the ocean’s surface. The flounder is squishy under your fingers, soggy from the cooler it had been kept in. When JJ’s knife makes a small incision by the fish’s eye, you gag and look away. 

“Oh my God, JJ, that’s so gross,” you mumble. 

He sniggers. “Jus’ nature.”

You hesitantly glance back down at the fish to see JJ make another incision with the blade. And then, the fish twitches. You shriek and JJ jumps, thankfully not slicing off any fingers in the process, cussing up a storm. 

“It’s alive!” you exclaim. 

“Barely! It’s just a reflex,” JJ loudly replies, shaking his head. One of his hands (slimy with fish guts) reaches for yours and guides your fingers back to the body. “Come on. You said you wanted to do this.”

He wasn’t wrong. You, in fact, insisted. He warned you that he didn’t think you’d like it but you hated being thought of as incapable, even if that wasn’t how he meant it. Stubbornness was a family trait. You could wear pink and talk about politics. You could plie and prepare a fish…maybe…

“Oh my God, oh my God,” you mutter, alternating between swallowing and gagging. Your acrylic nail slips under the top layer of the creature’s skin. JJ laughs, guiding your fingers as if puppetering. 

“You’re fine,” he sniggers. 

“I didn’t think it’d be so…gruesome.”

“It’s a fish.”

“It’s disgusting,” you mither. At the feel of something squishy and spongy under the tip of your finger, your hand comes flying out and you practically dance away from the fish as you squirm. “No, no, nopity, no.”

Laughing, JJ shakes his head and turns back to the fish, finishing the job. You head to the sink to clean your hands. “You kooks crack me up. Bet you think theses things come outta the water already baked and broiled, huh?”

“Har har,” you sarcastically quip, scrubbing at your hands. You study the underbeds of your nails to find fish gunk all up them. Whining, you say, “these are a fresh set of acrylics, JJ.”

“Hey - you’re the one that wanted me to have dinner with your parents,” he says with a shrug. 

Wiping your hands dry on a questionably clean dish towel, you lean your back against the counter and watch your boyfriend. “I didn’t know how much I’d have to sacrifice, clearly.”

You take the few steps towards him and wrap your arms around his middle, cradling his back against your front. You press a kiss to his shoulder blade. One of JJ’s hands lands atop of your own and squeezes softly, and it’s so sweet that you can’t even be annoyed that he just got fish slime all over your freshly washed hands. You lean against him as he continues to work on prepping the fish: the muscles of his back rippling and rolling with the movement of his arms and wrists. This close, the indescribable smell of JJ washes away that of the flounder. It somehow calms and turns you on all at once. Here, like this, you’re happy. Being with JJ was like stepping into a secret oasis, free of prying eyes and callous whispers. You knew introducing JJ to your parents was going to shift things slightly. It would set it in stone: you’d made your choice, and your choice was a Pogue. You were ready for that change but you worried that maybe JJ wasn’t. I guess only time would tell. 

The front door to the chateau creaks open and you glance over to find Kiara walking in. 

“Sup guys,” she greets. 

“Sup,” JJ replies, not bothering to turn. 

“What’re you guys doing?” she wonders, walking over. You untangle yourself from JJ and lean against the counter. 

“JJ’s showing me how to prepare a flounder.”

“You guys go fishing?”

“Yep.”

“This one caught her first fish,” JJ chimes in proudly. 

Scoffing, you shake your head as you look at Kie. “Barely. It bit my rod and JJ’s the one that pulled it in.”

“Under your supervision,” JJ adds. “Officially a fisher girl now.”

“A flounder’s a pretty decent catch, too,” Kiara praises, glancing over her friend’s shoulder. “Nice one, princess.”

Yes, it seemed the princess nickname had stuck with everyone. It didn’t bother you all that much. You were rather prissy compared to them. You hated getting dirt under your nails and would see red if there was a beer stain on your shirt. Any excuse to wear heels and often dressed in skorts or skirts. No matter how late, you had to do your full skincare regime. At first they teased and poked fun but they never insulted you. It was just part of your personality. 

“You guys eating here?”

“Actually, I should head back soon,” you say, glancing to the clock on the wall. “My parents should be home by now.”

“Dutiful daughter duties call,” JJ remarks. You poke him and grin at his squirming. One of your favourite discoveries of JJ Maybank? He was insanely ticklish. 

“We should probably head to Heyward’s soon, too,” Kiara says. “Promised we’d give them a hand with deliveries, remember?”

“Damn. I forgot 'bout.”

You take that as your cue to leave. Reaching a hand up to JJ face, you turn his head towards you and push up onto your toes. 

“See you,” you say, kissing him quick. 

“Later,” he replies. You wave politely to Kie in farewell and head to the door. Just before you pass through it, you call JJ’s name and wait for him to turn and face you. You point at him. 

“Tomorrow. What time?”

“Six.”

“On the dot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses, waving a hand, turning back to the fish. You look at Kiara and she grins. 

“I’ll make sure he gets there on time.”

“Hey!”

“Thank you,” you smile, satisfied. With that, you make your way home. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You pace the hallway of your house. Your eyes glance to the clock that hangs on the wall, crowded by framed pictures of yourself and your family. He’s late. Ten minutes late. Sighing, nervously twiddling your fingers, you glance from the front door, to the sitting room door (where your mom is lounging), to the office (where your dad is thankfully occupied by a business call). You knew your boyfriend wasn’t very timely, but surely tonight he would know the gravity of it. The importance of it. 

“Come on, JJ,” you mumble, glancing to the front door once more as if manifesting for it to knock. 

Ranger slowly trundles into the hallway, his tail wagging slowly, half-asleep. He rubs against your leg asking for pets and, as if sensing your anxiety, gives a sympathetic whine. Scratching as his head, you sigh. 

“I know, boy. He’ll be here.”

As if on cue, the door cracks open. JJ eases it open and steps in cautiously, and your head lolls back as you exhale in relief. 

“Finally!” you say to the ceiling, eyes slipping shut. Walking over to him, you press the door shut and grab his wrist, tugging him behind you through the house. “I thought you knew I was serious when I said you needed to be on time, JJ. This is a big deal, alright? You’re lucky my dad has been on a call for the past ten minutes!”

At his silence, you take pause at the bottom of the staircase and look at him. 

Your mouth parts in horror at the sight. 

“Oh my God,” you breathe. 

His lip is cracked, the half-heeled, ruby red cut from his last scuff up broken, now accompanied by a second fresh wound. His face is discoloured. Cheeks a muddy brown and plumish purple, with bruising on his cheekbone encircling a cut. There’s another impressive bruise by his brow, and a third near his mouth. His eyes are what sadden you the most. The hollow, gaping impression of them, as if he’s retreated somewhere inside of himself, the brightness snuffed out. His teeth and clenched and jaw tight. You immediately feel guilty for chewing him out. 

“Oh my God, JJ. What happened?” you ask, reaching a hand up to cup at his face, as if needing to confirm he isn’t some kind of apparition. He bats your hand away dismissively. 

“It’s nothin’, a’right? Let’s get this fuckin’ thing over with, yeah?”

You frown, keeping your hands to yourself. “JJ. Don’t be like that.”

“Like what? I’m here, ain’t I?”

Sighing, shaking your head, you take his hand in yours and guide him up the stairs and to your bedroom. Ranger sneaks in before you close the door. He lingers by JJ’s legs as JJ takes a seat on the edge of your bed. It seems Ranger calms him, nuzzling his head into JJ’s palm, demanding affection. Leaning against your door, folding your arms across your chest, you study JJ a moment. He’s shaken up but trying to hide it. It reminds you of how he was after Rafe and his gang jumped him. You wonder if that’s who is responsible for these injuries, too. There’s some anger that lingers, hovering around him like a smoke, not yet to dissipate, and it worries you for the gravity of the night. 

“We don’t have to do this tonight, if you don’t want to,” you say gently. 

He shakes his head immediately, eyes trained on Ranger’s panting face. “It’s a’right. I’ve been through worse.”

“Funnily enough that isn’t particularly reassuring, JJ,” you sigh. “I’m sorry for tearing into you like that. If I’d have known–”

“--I just wanna forget about it, a’right?” JJ says, almost snapping but not. He looks at you and nods, and tries a smile that looks queasy. “I know how important this night is for you. I don’t wanna use this as a get out.”

“It isn’t, though,” you say, crossing the room to him. Ranger makes space for you to stand in front of JJ, and he rests his head against your stomach. Your hands rub reassuringly at his upper back. “I want you to meet them when you’re ready for it, y’know?”

“I know,” he says against your dress. “You look pretty by the way.”

Rolling your eyes, smiling, you say, “thanks, JayJ.”

“I'm sorry. I wanna meet them,” he says. Pulling away, he looks up at you and gives a sheepish smile. “You got some sorta magic potion that can fix me up.”

Grinning, as if you’re a nineties movie character who has just been granted the permission to give a makeover, you eagerly nod. JJ chuckles at how you rush for your make-up bag. Taking a spot beside him on the bed, you use every trick in the book to help cover up JJ’s wounds, careful not to be too brutal in your craft. 

“Don’t tell John B about this,” JJ mumbles as you blend out the concealer. 

“God forbid a man wears make-up,” you sarcastically murmur back. 

“I’ve got a reputation to keep, y’know?”

“Mhm. Think you lost that reputation when you started dating a kook,” you giggle. 

He grins. “Nah. Just made me even more of a staple, really.”

Rolling your eyes, amused, you say, “be quiet so I can finish this off. We’re already late for dinner.”

“You want me to get changed?” he asks. “You’re dressed up all nice.”

“I’m always dressed up all nice,” you tell him. It’s true: you’re wearing a new dress that you got in the sale from Miu Miu; your hair styled to the nines; the brightest, bestest jewellery you own; and, of course, JJ’s bracelet. JJ sits in his usual attire: a graphic t-shirt that reps one of Kildare’s many local establishments, a pair of shorts that are kissed with dust and seasalt, and his combat boots. 

“You want me to, though?”

“No,” you say. “I want them to meet JJ. Not JJ.” 

At the pompous accent you put on the pronunciation of his name, JJ laughs and nods, and bows his head almost bashfully, as if holding your eyesight is too intimidating for a moment. 

“We should probably go and face the music,” you quietly tell him. 

Taking a deep breath, JJ nods and juts his chin up. “How’d I look?”

“Handsome as ever,” you smile. Careful not to hurt his wounds or rub at your work, you pinch his chin in your hand and guide his lips to yours for a quick kiss. 

“Promise me this won’t change anything between us?” JJ whispers. 

“I promise,” you reassure him. 

Nodding, JJ gets to his feet with a grunt and encases your hand with his own. Ranger perks up at the sudden spike in energy, eagerly guiding the way to your door, then down the stairs and into the hall. As you pass the doorway into the sitting room, you feel JJ free his hand from your hold. 

Your mother and father sit like something from a Victorian portrait. They’re in an armchair each, on either side of the fireplace, a haunting orange glow illuminating the sides of their profiles. Your mother is drinking coffee from a fancy glass-mug; her hair hung in such perfect, symmetrical ringlets around her face, it’s as if she slept with coca cola bottles in them. Your father is the picture of success: dressed in a Gucci suit, not a wrinkle or crease in sight, his grey hair stark but not unflattering. They’re not making it easy to be unintimidated by them. 

“Darling!” your mom croons. She beckons the two of you over. “We were wondering where you two got to!”

“Sorry, mom,” you smile, crossing the room to her. She presses a kiss against each of your cheeks. Then, she ushers JJ near. 

“Yeah, sorry, Mrs T,” he says, clearing his throat. “I, uh, got caught up at work.”

“Well, there’s worse things in life than a boy who knows the importance of work,” your dad says. 

Your mom smiles dotingly at JJ, extending out a hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, JJ.”

“You too, Mrs T,” he says, shaking her hand. 

“Oh, don’t call me that! Mrs T was my heinous mother. I’m Pam,” she light-heartedly tells him. 

“Well, alright, ma’am,” JJ nods. He turns to your dad next, who feels the need to rise from his seat as if Jesus Christ himself has demanded him to. A hand is thrust out like a bayonet. 

“Pleasure, JJ. Good to put a face to the boy who caught our daughter’s eye,” he says. JJ takes his hand and gives a firm shake, and you’re weirdly proud of how well he’s holding up. He must be terrified. You know how much he hates Kooks. Feels stifled when he’s around too many of them; judged and belittled, despite their charity and kindness. You can’t ever empathise, but you can certainly sympathise. “Call me Patrick.”

“Well, I think it’s time for some dinner, how about it?” your mom says. 

“Oh, I think that’s a wonderful idea, darling,” your dad agrees. They lead the way out of the room to the dining room, and you linger back with JJ. 

“You okay?” you check. 

“Could definitely do with a drink after this,” JJ only half-jokes, nervously smiling at you. 

You smile. “You’re doing amazing. They already like you.”

“Don’t give me false hope. Now come on,” JJ says, following after your parents. 

The table is set as though it’s Christmas dinner, or perhaps even the last supper. Impressive candles stand in even more impressive candle holders, and the runner is pure satin. The fancy china is out alongside the fancy wine glasses. JJ takes the seat beside you, opposite your father, and yourself opposite your mother. 

“Wine, JJ?” your dad asks, pouring himself a glass. 

“Oh, no thanks, sir. I’m seventeen,” JJ politely says. You have to hide your smile behind your own glass of water, taking a sip to walk down the humour. JJ drank like a fish. 

“Good man,” your dad says, winking at him. Another test passed. 

The door opens and the chef brings through the loaded plates. He places them in front of everybody one by one. 

“We’ve been told steak is your favourite,” your mother says to JJ. 

He glances at you, slightly surprised, then recovers and smiles. You’ve never seen his spine so straight before. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. Um - I mean, thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiles. You look down at your plate. Medium-rare steak, of the finest cut, smothered in peppercorn sauce and accompanied by steamed vegetables and homemade garlic butter. It smells delectable, mouth-wateringly attractive in its layout. Hands are interlocked, grace is said, and then everybody begins to eat. In the corner of your eye, you see JJ wince as the cut on his lip stretches too wide. 

“So, JJ. You say you have a job?”

“Uh, yes sir,” JJ says. “Usually odd jobs but I have a pretty steady gig at the golf club, which is nice. I busboy there.”

“Honest work, that is,” your dad says, tipping his glass in approval at him. “Honest and good work. I think it’s important people learn the importance of working, don’t you darling?” 

“Oh, absolutely, darling,” your mom agrees. 

You see JJ stiffen in your peripheral and instinctively your hand reaches for his leg, hidden under the table. You squeeze his knee reassuringly. They don’t realise how tone deaf they sound. How backhanded it is to say such a thing whilst eating a dinner that cost at least sixty dollars, dressed in nothing but designer threads. 

“Our little pumpkin tells us you’re pretty good with your hands though,” your mother says oh-so-innocently. 

Your face feels hot as a boiling kettle and your eyes shoot down to your plate. You can imagine JJ’s smirk perfectly: the picture of coy and cocky. 

“Oh, really? Little pumpkin, said that, huh?” JJ says. 

“Oh yes,” your mom says, blind as a bat to the innuendo. “She says you’re good with all sorts of mechanical mumbo-jumbo.”

“I’m pretty good with it, yeah. My dad taught me everything I know. He’s the better one at fixing up motors and stuff like that,” JJ says, his voice taking on a weird sort of edge, the thought of his father brings up a strange myriad of emotions. 

“Your father, eh? That’s, uh, Luke, isn’t it?” your dad says, swirling his wine. 

“Yes, sir,” JJ eventually says. 

“Ah. I went to school with him, back in the day. He always had a knack for getting caught up in the wrong sort of thing,” your dad absentmindedly says. 

“Dad,” you lowly say, shooting him a look. He seems to remember himself. Clears his throat and shakes his head. 

“I apologise, JJ. I didn’t mean to offend,” your dad says. 

“Not at all sir,” JJ replies, but it’s stifled, like the lid on a shaken bottle of fizzy pop. Desperate for a hand, you look to your mom. She brightens up and chimes in. 

“Oh! The midsummer’s ball is right around the corner! I imagine it’s been all hands on deck at work, getting things ready for it, hm?” 

“Oh, you better believe it,” JJ chuckles, nodding. Then, your mom makes a noise like an elephant trying its first toot of its horn. It alarms everyone, catches their attention. 

“Darling! I just had the most splendid idea!” your mom bursts out. Your head shoots up, mouth full of half chewed food. “You should take JJ along with you as your date!”

You chew and chew. Swallowing, glancing at JJ, you nervously laugh. “Oh, um, I don’t know if it’s really his kind of thing, mom.”

“Come now! Some nice food and nice music. An excuse to get all dressed up. What’s not to like?”

Dressed up? She clearly doesn’t read JJ very well, sat in his well-worn t-shirt, hair an enticing mess (cap begrudgingly abandoned). Just to put the matter to rest, you oblige, placing a hand on JJ’s leg as you do in hopes he’ll track the secret message of, ‘don’t worry - you don’t have to!’

“Maybe, mom. Maybe we will,” you say. 

The rest of the dinner passes with little hitch. If anything, it’s almost mundane. Your mother tells embarrassing stories that have you cringing and JJ laughing; your father recalls anecdotes from the office that are only mildly boring. JJ even starts to share some of his own tales. A car he helped to fix up, which prompts your dad to tell him about his classic car collection - offering JJ a tour some day, and even a drive around, which certainly appeals to your boyfriend. Another story about you, from when you went cliff jumping. Your parents are visibly taken aback. They can’t seem to imagine you hurling yourself off a cliff, down and down into water. Your mother even says something like ‘good grief’ when JJ recounts the tale. 

“Will you be staying for dinner, JJ?” your mom asks as you all depart from the living room, full and fed. 

“Uh, I should get going,” JJ says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Got people to see and things to do, y’know?”

“Busy, busy,” your mom beams. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down. The make-up has started to fade, teasing at the bruise that’s likely only worsening on his handsome face. 

“Well, it’s been wonderful to meet you, JJ,” your mom says, meaning every word. 

“Likewise,” he says. “Y’all have a lovely home. And thank you also, for the dinner. It was fuc– Uh…It was freaking amazing.”

“You keep that good head on your shoulders,” your dad tells him, sticking out his hand once more, though this time far less threateningly. “And take good care of our daughter. She’s pretty taken by you.”

“Dad,” you grumble, embarrassed. 

“I will sir. I’ll keep her safe, I swear,” JJ assures, shaking his hand. The four of you stand a moment before you speak. 

“I’m gonna walk JJ out.”

With that, the two of you make for the front door, leaving your parents in the sitting room with their bids of good will and safe journeys home. He’s a stride or so ahead as you pass the hall. His toned back enticingly sways under his shirt. The two of you linger on the doorstep, outside the closed front door. The summer evening air is muggy and morish. JJ retrieves his vape and takes a hit or two to calm any persisting nerves from the dinner. 

“How you feelin’?”

“Like I just survived a mugging,” JJ says, making you laugh. He seems to like your laugh. He starts to smile. 

“They liked you.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, certain. “My dad especially.”

“Your dad’s scary as fuck.”

“He is not!”

Shrugging, disagreeing, JJ takes another drag of his vape. He looks down at you then, smiling to himself, sleepy. “You sneaking out to the chateau later?”

“You want me too?”

“Is that even a question?” he asks, quirking a brow. Grinning, playful, you reply: 

“Well, a girl likes to feel wanted.”

Shaking his head, amused, perhaps even smitten, JJ leans against the wall of the cove of the entryway. He watches you for a moment. 

“You gonna tell me who banged you up like that, then?” you broach, eyeing his just concealed injuries. They’re more obvious, gleaming through, in the doorway light’s fluorescent. 

“Why? You gonna go vigilante on ‘em?” JJ smirks. 

Rolling your eyes, you say, “don’t kid, JJ. I don’t like seeing you all black and blue.”

“Well, knowing me, you’re gonna have to get used to it, little pumpkin.”

“Oh good. That’s catching on,” you mumble. Laughing, JJ clears the gaping gap between the two of you with two shuffles of the feet. 

“It’s a cute nickname.”

“It is not becoming your new nickname for me.”

“Mm. We’ll see,” he says. He dips his head and kisses your lips, and it tastes like salt from the dinner in the most divine way. “Come to the chateau tonight, yeah?”

“Okay,” you murmur against his mouth, never being good at saying no to him. Another kiss, too short and too fleeting for your liking, and JJ steps away. Then, the matter comes back to you. You grab at his hand and stop him in place. “What my mom said, about the midsummer’s ball - you really don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I mean, of course it’d be nice if we went together, but I know that isn’t really your scene so…”

JJ winces, not quite torn but off put in disappointing you in some kind of way. Maybe your smile is reassurance enough for him to be honest. “I just can’t handle being around that many kooks, y’know? And the penguin suits and the blind ignorance? It’s just–”

“--I get it,” you assure, nodding, smiling. “It’s tone deaf.”

“People on the Cut still don’t have power from Aggie,” JJ says, “meanwhile Figure Eight are wasting their power on fairy lights. No offence.”

You shrug. You like midsummers: you weren’t going to lie about it. The dresses and the costumes; the community and the music; the sneaking drinks and the gossip that sparked. Most of kook life was lonely and insufferable but the party felt rather fun, most years. You imagine JJ would be delectable in a suit. His muscled-up arms brimming under a white dress shirt; legs hugged in the black iron-pressed trousers; hair combed and quiffed, still swooping over his forehead…But he wasn’t a ken doll. No, he was G.I. Joe. You weren’t going to wrangle him into a suit to play dress up and parade him around something that would only make him feel like he’s lost at sea. Besides, there was something magical, almost, in the way he was with you, out of the eyes of others, or in front of the Pogues - worry free of judgement. You liked that JJ, not the one that looked like he practised sitting with a ruler and waited for a misstep in conversation to casually degrade his entire family and upbringing. 

“That’s okay, JayJ,” you soothe. “You’ll just have to make peace with the fact that I’ll be looking fine as hell in front of those dumbass kook boys.”

“You already look fine as hell, every Goddamn day,” JJ chuckles. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, his voice dipping as he says, “and those dumbass kooks will know who to answer to if they forget who you belong to, huh?”

A thrill trickles down your spine. Giddy, you bite back your smile as JJ pulls away. There’s a knowing look on his face, as if he could hear the effect his words had on you. You hang onto his hand for as long as possible as he slowly backs away, down the front door steps. You give him a small wave farewell as he wanders over to his bike, and as he starts down your drive, you step back into your house. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ’s skin is warm against your cheek. Your body shifts up and down with the steadying rise and fall of his chest. You’re both clammy, probably more so being cuddled together under the tousled sheets, and his skin smells of sweat and sex and seasalt. A finger toys with the shark tooth necklace that rests just shy of his heart. The mattress is uncomfortable so you prefer JJ's stomach. You can feel every spring pushing through the thin material and you contemplate buying him a mattress topper, sneaking it on when he's out surfing or working. But you know he'd tell the difference: know it'd upset him in a way that would come out as frustration. 'Charity'.

One of JJ's hands leisurely rubs at your bare thigh and whilst the action itself isn’t necessarily erotic, it keeps a gentle humming buzz through your bones like someone keeping an engine running in a car out front. 

“How many girls have you been with?” you wonder. 

JJ barks out a laugh. “Why'd you ask?"

“Just curious,” you say, glancing up at him with a cheeky smile. “I wanna know how I rank.”

He peers down at you through half hooded eyes. “Dumbass question. You know where you rank.”

“At the bottom, right?” you joke, raising your brows. 

Laughing, he shakes his head and gazes up at the ceiling. His hand squeezes at the flesh of your leg, somehow lovingly, somehow telling you, 'no, not at the bottom'. 

“Just gimme a ballpark figure.”

“C’mon!” JJ laughs. “You know I ain’t gonna do that. This is one of those traps you girls set to catch guys like me out.”

“No it isn't! I just want to know, I swear! May God be my witness.”

His laugh tells you that he’s not going to fess up anytime soon. Smirking, aware fully of your teasing, you say, “well, at least tell me if I’m the only Kook you’ve been with.”

“Baby–” He cuts himself off with another chuckle, but the way he looks at you this time gives you room for answer. Your mouth parts in an aghast smile, giggling as you point at his face. 

“I knew it! You’ve slept with another Kook before me!”

“Oh my God,” he says, shaking his head, amused, not denying. 

“Who was it!? Maybe I know them,” you ponder, curious. 

“Nobody special,” he tells you. “Nobody as special as you, anyway.”

“Aw. You passed the test,” you kid, pressing a kiss to his lips.

One of his hands captures the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair like fingers into bread dough, and he deepens the kiss. Licks lazily at your lips, his tongue brushing against yours. He tastes like the joint he was smoking when you made it to the Chateau (successfully sneaking out of your house), and the flavour maps itself into your memories so it will forever be tethered to the name JJ Maybank. Insatiable in bed, as if his hunger is contagious, your cunt throbs at the implication of JJ’s wandering hands. You part your legs just enough to let him slip a finger through your wet folds, stimulated and sticky from the last round. Lips parting from his, your head rests on his collarbone as he pushes through your already used hole. Soft moans slip through your lips like the susurrus of the wind. JJ kisses at your ear, nibbling at your earlobe, kitten-licking the helix. The sweet gentleness to his kisses juxtapose the way his fingers fuck into you. 

“So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he murmurs in his crooning, southern accent. “So fuckin’ wet for me, huh?”

“Just for you,” you dumbly breathe against his skin. Your body rocks against his hand instinctively, chasing the pleasure that has your vision going mushy. The metal of his rings against your swollen walls, just cool enough to push the buttons of your stimulation just right. His fingers curl and brush against you and it hits that spot that has you gasping out, practically humping his hand. It’s crazy that your man could make you feel this way. 

“That’s it, baby. Gimme one more, yeah, baby? Gonna gimme one more?”

“M’close,” you whimper. He doesn’t relent. Keeps his fingers pumping in and out, the lewd sounds feeling as though they echo in your head. You push out the thoughts of sin and blasphemy from your mind, recalling JJ’s own words when you confided in him about your worries of wronging the Lord. If he ain’t want you to feel good like this, he wouldn’t have given the human body the right. Instead, you choose JJ as your alter. 

A new pace sets in, merciless as he pounds his digits into you. Your eyes are sealed shut, noises that feel foreign falling into the abyss of the room. Praises drive you on, fed into your ear in a voice as sweet and thick as Tennessee Whiskey. 

“That’s it, baby. Be a good little girl and come for me, huh? Come on, I know you’re close.”

You clench around his fingers with a gasping whine. Feel yourself leak out pleasure, dribbling down your thighs, drunk on the dopamine. He softens his rhythm. Kisses pleasantly at your ear and neck, whispering sweet nothings in the way your fellow church goers mumble out their prayers. And as you feel yourself return to your body, a smile grows on your face. You were lovestruck: it had gone straight to your head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rolling slopes and green of the country club are perfectly trimmed; not a single blade out of sync. The smell of cut grass, recently hydrated from the hurricane the other week, seeps naturally into the aroma of the party. Liquor and juice mixers; fried clams; flowery fumes from the decorations. Amongst that is the perfumes and colognes of the guests, your own probably only adding to the fragrance of the Midsummer’s party. Wooden beams form rectangular archways, organised on the lawn, with wisteria and baby’s breath and lavender twirled around it, dangling down like something from a fairytale illustration. You glance around the gathering and search for familiar faces. There’s the Bible Biches, gathered with their parents. You spot Pope with his father at the food pop-up. Kiara’s talking to him. You like to think they’re your friends too - not just JJ’s - but something in the way they stand and talk, it seems personal and private. You decide not to pry. 

“You look beautiful, little pumpkin,” your mom tells you, catching your attention. You smile at her and let her fiddle with your hair, correcting some strands. “It’s a shame JJ couldn’t come.”

“I know. He’s busy though. Had to work,” you lie. 

“Well, I think it’s good that the boy knows priorities. Working is the world,” your dad nods. Your teeth grit. You know he means well when he says things like that, but working for JJ is synonymous with living. He didn’t have a choice. Still, you wish there was some truth to your words. JJ didn’t want to come to Midsummer’s but he never told you what he’d be doing instead. You feel the gap of his presence beside you and wonder if maybe you’re too joined at the hip. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” you say to them. They nod and catch eyes with the Mantashs, and you part from them. As you venture to the bar, you wedge yourself between people. 

“It’s just downright disrespectful,” a woman says. You glance curiously to your right and recognise Topper’s mother. “I mean, sinking someone’s property. It’s disrespectful.”

“It’s illegal, is what it is,” another woman agrees. Kelce’s mother. Their headdresses are ridiculous and over-the-top. 

“It isn’t surprising though. Those Maybank people are trouble with a capital T,” another woman remarks. That has your attention. You dip your head and listen in. 

“Still. Strange that he’d sink your boat without rhyme or reason,” Kelce’s mom says. 

“Like those delinquents need a rhyme or reason to cause chaos. That John B beat your son black and blue the other day, and then the Maybank kid had the nerve to pull a gun!”

“Well, I’m just glad we pressed charges. They arrested the Maybank kid just the other day, thank God. He owes us a restitution,” Topper’s mom gloats. “It’s about time they learn some consequences.”

You suddenly feel very, very sick. Your mouth is so full of saliva that a drink seems frivolous. You step away from the bar as if you’re already tipsy. The words arrested and restitution rattle around your head like a ping pong ball. JJ was arrested? When? She said only the other day, so it can’t have been that long ago. Why wouldn’t be tell you? Why didn’t he call you? You could have bailed him out; helped him cover the restitution. Is that why he was beaten when he came to your house the other day? Did the cops do that? No, no, they wouldn’t. Surely? Maybe Topper, again? But if Jj was arrested, that would be revenge enough, surely? The bombardment of questions doesn’t help the nausea so you step outside. Beneath the worry and the confusion is a sting of betrayal. He lied to you. Right to your face, several times. Hell, even last night, tangled in bed with him at the Chateau, he had the gall to look you in the face and omit all of it. You grip the railing of the porch and look out across the way. Kie and Pope are still talking. Do they know about all of this? You wonder about going over to ask but maybe they’re not supposed to tell, or maybe they don’t know themselves and you spark more drama. 

“You alright, pumpkin?” your mother asks, wandering over to you. You plaster on the smile you wear for dance recitals. 

“Mhm. Just a little stuffy in there, is all,” you say. More questions troop through your head. Does your mother know about this? Your father? You imagine not, given their earlier remarks about JJ. But will they? This town is small and this community is full of gossips. They liked JJ enough at dinner last night but you imagine that to change if they hear he was arrested for destruction of property. What did Topper’s mother say? ‘Sinking’? It must have been a boat that he sunk. You can’t imagine your dad to be willing to show his classic cars to a known convict. Your spiralling thoughts are interrupted by applause, and your head turns like everybody else’s to watch the Cameron family stroll through the doorway and onto the porch. The guests of honour. Rose is in a hot pink dress with a headdress that could poke somebody’s eye out. Sarah follows behind in a darling satin gown. You envy her hair and flower crown. Beside her is Rafe and your blood immediately turns cold. His baby blue suit does little to quell his intimidation. You’re gonna regret this, you know that? Better keep a fucking eye out, princess. JJ’s absence - despite his secrecy and lies - has never felt so gaping.

The night twinkles on as the daylight dwindles. In the far distant, amongst the clouds are streaks of pink and orange and tangerine. The rest of the world is cast in a dusk-like blue. It’s so beautiful you can almost begin to relax. Almost. Kiara is with her parents and Pope with his father, and you feel as though you’ve been spending your night avoiding people. You nurse a glass of ginger ale and watch people under the warm glow of the fairy lights, dancing to the music of the live band. You wish JJ were here. He was a good dancer, when you got him going. 

“Hey! There you are!” Bethany giggles, rushing over to you. She grabs your hands in hers as Daisy and Ashley follow behind her. “Why are you all on your own?”

“Just not feeling it tonight,” you mumble, smiling smally. 

“Well, that’s silly,” Daisy says, hiccuping. You quirk a brow. She’s been on the sauce. “You should come dance with us!”

“And have some of this. It’ll perk you right up,” Ashley says with a coy smile, holding her glass out. You take it and have a sip. The taste of vodka hits your nose like cough medicine. You wince as you swallow, laughing as you hand it back. 

“Jesus! What the hell did you put in that?”

“Just that good stuff,” she grins. She was intolerable at times, but had her perks. Taking your now spare hand, she sways your arm. “Bethany and Daisy are right. Come have fun with us.”

Your eyes dart to Pope - busy at work with his dad - then at Kiara - hovering around her parents, almost sulking. You’d lost track of Rafe and his gang, but being enveloped with friends made you less of a target, you supposed. Besides, you could do with a pick-me-up after being blindsided by JJ’s apparent arrest. With that thought, you happily let the girls drag you out onto the ‘dance floor’. You sway to the music, hips moving to the beat, and laugh with the others as you take turns busting moves. Ashley passes around her drink and you’re happy to indulge, giggling at Daisy’s squiffy nature, and finally the night starts to brighten. 

Come on and hold me. Just like you told me, the singer belts. 

Bethany takes your hand and twirls you under her, the two of you laughing. Your dress swirls around your feet, the fabric moving like liquid, and you correct your flower crown that’s perched dainty on your head like a halo. Then, in your peripheral, you see a familiar silhouette. You slow your dancing, your brows tug together, and your eyes fall onto JJ. He’s dressed in a white button-up, covered by a waistcoat and bowtie. It doesn’t look ugly on him but it certainly is foreign. His hair is as untamed as always; face still healing from the mysterious bruises. The bracelet that you gave him is on his wrist and for some reason - maybe because of the alcohol - this infuriates you. Why is he here? To appease the girls and save their suspicion, you pretend to continue to dance, keeping a watch on where JJ goes. He approaches Sarah Cameron. Taps her on the shoulder, presses his finger to his lips at her confusion, dances whilst conspicuously handing her a folded note. Why the hell is he here? Jealousy trickles into the infuriation and confusion. You think back to last night, how he’s slept with another kook before you. Was it Sarah? No, surely not. 

Then, you spot him. In his baby blue suit, Rafe strides over to JJ. Your boyfriend turns to come face to face with him, backed by his posse. Your body stills with panic. You try to eavesdrop into their conversation but it’s impossible over the girls’ chatter and the music. Every noise starts to deafen like cicada buzz. Rafe has his hands on JJ’s arms, holding him in place, as Kelce talks to them. You think to the arrest, to Topper’s mom, to the outdoor movie altercation. JJ manages to break apart and backs away, and your body instinctively follows like a magnetic pull as he takes off running into the building. Your hands grab at your dress to lift it from the floor as you hurry after them. Inside, you see JJ in the far distance race through the building, shadowed by Rafe as his gaggle. When they filter into the men’s facilities, your panic peaks. Standing dumbly in the centre of the room, you look around and think of what to do. What to do? Do you get Kie? Pope? Your dad or mom? No, no, they’ll ask too many questions. Think! 

A security man hovers in the corner like a CIA agent, dressed in a black suit and tie. Yes! You rush over to him. “Sir! Sir! I need your help!”

“What’s wrong, miss?” he asks, brows tugging together.

“I need your help, please,” you jabber. You grab at his wrist and drag him after you, ignoring his mass of questions. “Somebody’s in danger!”

There’s a commotion behind the door of the men’s changing room. You follow behind the security guard as he strides in. You look around his arm to find JJ in a headlock by Kelce, Rafe looming in his face. Your breath catches in your throat. The security guard flickers the light of the room and they suddenly become aware that they’re not alone. From their distraction, JJ is able to shuck himself free. Kelce lends a hand chivalrously, shoving him away. 

“Gentlemen! Is there a problem?” the security guard asks, sauntering into the room. You stand just to his side in clear view, arms folded over your chest in a way that you hope looks intimidating, despite the anxiety that overrides every emotion in your body. 

“Oh. Pardon me, officer. No, there’s not an issue,” JJ chatters, still panting. “I just– actually, yes. No, there is an issue.” He runs a hand through his hair and his eyes finally catch yours. That betrayal chips hard at your resolve when you lay your eyes on him, face to face. Maybe it reads through your gaze because he’s quick to look away. “Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right? Blatant disrespect for private property.”

“Yeah,” Rafe nods, scratching oh-so-casually at his ear. 

“I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir,” JJ tells the security guard. You can feel the guard’s temperament changing and your concern shifts for the millionth time that night. What the hell? JJ was the one getting beaten up? How is that fair? “But these young gentlemen…”

“Don’t touch my shit,” Kelce snaps, batting JJ’s hand away from his bowtie. 

“...uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do, escort me out of here,” JJ says, raising his hands as if to be placed in handcuffs. The security guard wastes no time in walking over, grabbing harshly at his wrist and dragging JJ. You want to protest but can’t seem to find the words. Your eyes survey the scene once more and Rafe catches your eye. A smirk shadows his menacing face. JJ glances after them as he’s pulled away. “All right. Fix that tie, son. You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun.”

“Tell your little girlfriend there that she looks pretty hot for a Pogue,” Rafe quips. Your stomach churns in disgust at the comment. JJ breaks free with that, a newfound anger overcoming him, and he strides over to break even. You dart forward with the security guard, trying to hold him back, and Kelce comes between them too, though with far less innocent intentions. Finally, JJ begins to leave. You follow after them, gnawing your lip in anxiety, and spare one last glance at the room of Kooks. Rafe catches your eye and winks. You quickly look away. 

“Hey! Be gentle with him!” you say to the security guard as he practically manhandles JJ through the room. Your boyfriend is rattled, high on adrenaline, and only seems to lean into chaos now. “Hey!”

“Look– Look, man, I can walk by myself. I got legs. Can you see that, brother?” 

“Come on.”

Outside, people look and leer. You follow after them both, protesting at the security guard, your worries melding into JJ’s taunts and complaints, all of which fall on deaf ears. JJ then swipes a drink from Mr Dunleavy which doesn’t help his situation, and you glance worriedly at the gathering of people who are watching everything unfold like a daytime drama. You wonder if your parents are watching too. 

“It’s okay, everybody! Do not panic!” JJ announces loudly to the room, raising his hands in mock surrender. You take pause on the stairs, watching it unfold, aware that you’re past the point of being able to help. “...Let’s hear it for them! Rose! Looking like Lady Liberty! It’s good to see you again.”

You think back to the other day, fishing on the dock, before you knew all that you know now. I don’t always make the right decisions. You feel as though you’re getting a first person demonstration of an example. This side of JJ is new to you. It’s hard to decipher how you feel. It’s like trying a new food for the first time; trying to worm your way through the flavours and textures, and coming to an impasse. 

“Let go of him!” Your head darts over to Kiara. “You can’t boot him! I invited him here.”

You don’t know what’s true anymore. Did she invite him? Didn’t you invite him also? But then why did he sneak over to Sarah? Your head hurts and it isn’t from the vodka. JJ takes advantage of the destruction and shoves the security guard away, with a hasty apology. He points at Kiara then. Talks as if you don’t even exist. 

“Hey! Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie,” he says. “Pope, you as well, all right?”

You watch it all unfold, invitation-less, and it feels isolating and dismissive. You stand like a ghost on the stairs and watch the Pogues gather together at the outskirts of the party. JJ doesn’t even spare you a glance as Kie runs over to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as he takes her in his arms, spinning her around. Jealousy rears its ugly head yet again. They take off into the darkness, laughing and hollering, and you stand, forgotten and forlorn. And JJ doesn’t even spare you a glance. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ranger’s tail wags as you walk. He’s got a barely-there tug on the leash, guiding the way on your mid-morning walk through Kildare. It’s glorious today; the sun glad to shine after the storm last night. You wish you were more awake to enjoy it but after Midsummer’s, you barely got any rest. At first it was the mass of questions from the Bible Bitches. What was that? Why was he here? Why didn’t you go with them? Next, from your parents. Just created a scene. I wonder what the fuss was about. I thought you said he was at work. Finally, your own. The worst part? You had answers for nobody, including yourself. JJ hadn’t texted or called. The service was still dodgy after the hurricane so it wasn’t entirely his fault. Still, it didn’t sit well with you. None of this did. It felt the more time passed, the more you were left on the outside, looking through a window that was being concealed, one blind at a time. 

Ranger suddenly takes a diversion that has you frowning. You try and tug him back onto your main course but he’s insistent, leading the way down towards The Wreck. Well, you could do with a lemonade. You relent and let him do his thing. The Wreck is closed but you can hear voices from inside. You catch some phrases like 'Royal Merchant' and 'sweater vest', and before you can contemplate going in, JJ comes out. He’s in a muscle tee, showing off his muscular and slim frame. It’s not fair for him to look good when you’re mad at him. He seems surprised to see you there just as much as you are him. 

“Hey,” he says. “What’re you doing here?”

“Ranger must’ve heard you,” you say, nodding down to your joyful pup. As JJ approaches, his tail starts like a propeller, swinging back and forth. JJ fusses him and murmurs loving compliments at Ranger, and eventually looks up at you. You quirk a brow. 

“Is this about last night?”

“What’d you mean? Oh! You mean how you randomly showed up to Midsummer’s, gave Sarah Cameron - of all people - a secret note, got chased by Rafe and his gang, saved by me, made a huge scene and ran off without even saying thank you or goodbye?”

JJ cringes, caught in a corner. “...Maybe.”

“Talk. Now,” you say, unimpressed. 

Sighing, he stands tall and runs a hand through his hair. He glances back to The Wreck. “It’s complicated, okay? It’s a long story and I don’t wanna bore you with it.”

“I’m not bored,” you flatly reply. 

JJ walks over to you and grabs your hand. You’re unwilling to meet his gaze, desperate to stay disgruntled. He kisses you and you try to dip out of reach, but he just opts to kiss your cheek after. “I’m sorry, okay? I should have thanked you for saving me.”

“Damn right you should have,” you mumble. You finally relent and look up at him. He’s playing the part well: remorseful and abashed. It feels a little pathetic when you admit, quietly, “I didn’t like being left out, JJ. I felt so embarrassed just stood there watching you all.”

JJ nods, dipping his gaze. “I didn’t think of that. I should’ve said something to you. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“What was the meeting at Rixon’s even about?” you ask, narrowing your eyes slightly. “And why did you give a note to Sarah?”

“Oh, you spying on me now or something?” JJ jokes, a playful glimmer on his face. When you fail to be amused, he sighs and knocks it off. “Look, it’s not really my business. It’s a Pogue thing, okay? I promise it isn’t anything that you gotta worry about.”

That doesn’t make you feel much better. It’s like applying a bandage to a bruise. JJ seems to sense this. His finger hooks at your chin and guides your face up to meet his. The kiss he plants against you is like an apology rewritten. You feel your anger melt away the longer he kisses, and you want to smack yourself for being so easy to appease. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you don’t need to worry. It might just be a silly thing. But silly things feel hard to believe when things like ‘arrest’ linger in the background. It’s a slippery slope from a prank to a crime. 

“There’s nothing goin’ on with me and Sarah Cameron, a’right? You’re the only girl I’m mackin’ on, I promise you that,” JJ reassures you. You’re grateful for that. The image of him hugging Kiara still has you a little green on the edges but you’ll chase that monster away on your own. Like he told you from day one: he didn’t want Kie. He wanted you. 

The moment is short lived though. JJ pulls away, takes a step back, and you realise he was leaving to go somewhere. The wounds are healing well on his face, so at least that’s a relief. You want to ask about the boat, and the arrest, and press about the meeting at Rixon’s cove, but he’s already backing away before you can. 

“I gotta go, baby. But I’ll see you soon, a’right?”

“Wait, where’re you going?” you wonder, disappointed. “I thought we could spend the day together.”

“Uh…I gotta go to work, y’know?” JJ says. It’s his tone that has you taking suspicion. 

“To work?”

“Mhm. Duty calls and all that,” he says in his upbeat, energetic way. “I’ll see you later though, baby!”

“Wait, wait,” you blurt, rushing over to him, Ranger in tow. He does as you ask, if anything looking mildly concerned. Once in front of him, you push onto your toes and press a fleeting kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

You open your eyes to meet his. They’re a little wide; his lips parted, damp from your barely-there spit. The corner of his mouth twitches, maybe with a smile, maybe not. Clearing his throat, JJ nods, smiles tightly down at you, and then he reaches down to scruff Ranger’s neck in farewell. You watch him walk away, rounding the corner, taking off down the road in a hurry. 

He didn’t say it back.

Ranger barks again then whines, and he looks up at you. 

“I know, boy,” you mumble. “Something doesn’t feel right to me, either.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hello!? It’s your turn,” Daisy sing-songs. 

You blink yourself into the room and look blankly at her. “Huh?”

“It’s your turn to read,” she says, nodding down to the bible in your hands. It was Bible Study with the Bible Bitches, hosted at Ashley’s house for a change. They were indulging in the blood of Christ (red wine that they’d snuck out of Bethany’s parent’s cellar) but you decided to steer clear. There were enough emotions lining your mind that alcohol would only pull out of you. The four of you were sitting on her plush, pink duvet, cosy in her canopy bed. Music played from her speaker and a candle burned on the bedside table. You look down at the open page of your book and nod. 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” you mumble. Tucking your hair behind your ears, your eyes focus on the dancing words. “The Lord himself goes before you and he will be with you…Uh…”

“Everything okay?” Bethany asks at your lack of presence. 

Sighing, you close your book and hang your head. “Just hard to think, is all.”

“Is this about JJ?” Daisy wonders. You glance at her and your lack of answer seems answer enough. She nods and purses her lips. 

“What’s new? Boys are liars. We knew this,” Bethany says, unimpressed by his actions from Midsummers, no doubt. 

“Especially JJ,” Ashley snorts. You look at her. There’s something irritating in her glee, as if she’s glad he lied to you. 

“Look, you guys don’t know him like I do, alright,” you say, jumping to his defence. He might be acting a little shifty right now but that didn’t mean you loved him any less. Ashley quirks a brow. 

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” you say, tone steady like stone. “He’s been through a lot, okay?”

“That might be true but he still sunk Topper’s boat,” Bethany says. 

“Topper’s a douchebag,” you remind them, “they were probably getting even for something Topper started.”

“Still. Getting even to me is like egging a house, not sinking a twenty-thousand dollar boat,” Daisy tells you. You look down at the comforter, agreeing if only slightly. It certainly doesn’t help to deescalate a situation, by sinking a boat. 

“What makes you think we don’t know him like you do?” Ashley randomly asks. You frown at her. 

“Because you don’t.”

“But what makes you say that?”

“You don’t see the kind of JJ I see,” you impatiently reply. You knew JJ inside and out. You knew his fears and his anxieties; his insecurities and his ego; his pet peeves and his pleasure. Except, did you? Did you know that he sunk Topper’s boat? That he pulled a gun on Topper at a kegger? That he was arrested for both? That he was going to sneak into Midsummers? That he was going to hand a note to Sarah Cameron?

It’s as if Ashley can see these questions run through your mind like a teleprompter. That same smirk teases at her lips. It reminds you of a change in wind, warning of a storm. 

“He did tell you about us, right?” she says, quirking a brow. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you mutter, unamused. 

“Well, I just want to check. Since you know him in a way nobody else does, I’m guessing that means you know everything about him, right?”

“Of course,” you immediately reply. 

Her ruby red lips grin unscrupulously. Her head cocks like a cat, askew to the left. When she speaks, her tone is innocent, as if she’s telling you the weather or relaying an order for a table. 

“Well then, you know that we slept together, right?”

The air in your lungs gets stuck. You feel as though you could start choking from it. Everything else fades away: the hazy music, Bethany, Daisy. It goes mute and fuzzy like you’ve hit your head. Ashley’s figure becomes hyper focused. The flawlessness of her skin, the immaculate placement of every strand of her hair, the recalcitrant personality that she hid so well under prayer and pretty bows. She was everything you weren't. And as if you’re on a hideous psychedelic trip, your mind conjures haunting images that flash through your thoughts like a high speed slideshow. JJ’s lips on Ashley’s. His hands on her body, the way they laid on yours. His mouth pressed close to her ear, mumbling the intimate things that he said to you. The things you thought were only for you. It blinds you. Consumes you. Something about it all, something about the way that you didn’t know, had no idea, feels like betrayal. 

Ashley slowly lets her smile transform into something mocking concern. “Wait…Did you not know?”

You swallow the bile that churns in the back of your throat. It burns as it runs down into your body and it’s as if it sets your body aflame with anger. A strange sort of anger. A quiet, secret anger. Your jaw tenses. 

“I’m done with this conversation,” you tell Ashley. You get up from the bed and stride out the room. There’s murmurs between the girls as you leave. What the hell, Ashley? What? She deserved to know. Someone is coming after you as you walk down the landing. 

“Wait, wait,” Bethany says, hurrying over. You wave her away. 

“I’m leaving,” you say, starting down the stairs. You feel like you’re floating. Like your soul is grappling to stay inside of your body, maintain some autonomy. 

“She didn’t mean anything by it–”

“Oh my God!” you snap. You laugh, unable to hold it back, far from amused. You spin on the step and glare up at her. “You can’t seriously believe that!”

“She was just doing what she thought was right,” Bethany fumbles. You hold her gaze for a long, long moment. The silence drips down the walls. Shaking your head, you take a tense inhale through your nose. Do not speak ill of others. 

“I need to talk to JJ,” you lowly say. Bethany doesn’t follow after you, then. You make your way down the stairs and out the door. The air is uninviting. If anything, it’s muggier than inside, soothed by the AC. The humidity feels like sweaty hands grabbing at your throat, choking you. The world is off its axis. The July evening air does little to alleviate the flurry of emotions racing through you. They’re all hitting at once, mixing into a confusing mess, as you struggle to process Ashley’s words. What they mean. What you feel. What you should do. The sickness sits. You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at your text message thread with JJ. Read the last one he sent.

Have fun tonight bby

Had JJ called her that, when his dick was buried inside of her? Had he whispered it into her ear as he fucked her in the very bed you were just sat on? Or was it the Chateau’s bed? The one that you contemplated buying a mattress comforter for so he could get better sleep at night? Did she know what it felt like to have every spring scratch at her spine as he rammed into her, over and over? The sickness swirls in your stomach. 

You need to talk to him. 

He must be at the chateau. Where else? He said he was hanging with the Pogues tonight. You don’t know what to believe anymore, and that is maybe what hurts the most. You climb into your car. The drive flashes by as your mind flicks through haunting mental images. An abhorrent collage of JJ and Ashley tangled together, intermingled with memories of you and JJ, giggling, gasping, grinning. The chateau’s driveway is pitch black, as is the house and the yard. You park your car and sit, and try your best to piece together the fragments of feelings and thoughts. The yard is empty, as is the pier, and after walking the house, nobody is home. You sit on the porch steps. You wait as though you’re a phantom, a strange echo of the Midsummer’s party. You wait and wait. The thoughts flatten into nothing, become apathetic to the pandemonium of emotions, and you only focus on the sound of the water and wind. You wait and wait. 

The Twinkie turns up the driveway. You can hear the Pogues. They’re loud in their chatter as it bounces off the interior of the van. You don’t bother turning your head. You feel like you can’t. JJ’s voice floats above the others and it sparks the mental images again. 

JJ’s mouth on Ashley’s tits. 

They clamber out of the van. They sound happy, elated even, and you wonder what that feeling is like. It feels so alien now. So far away. They’re talking over one another. Their voices get louder as they approach. 

“Hey!” Kiara says, happy, spotting you. “What’re you doing here?”

Your head turns and your eyes fall on JJ. He’s in cargo shorts, a black long-sleeve, and a slate-grey blue t-shirt over the top. A bandana sits around his neck. His hair is dishevelled in a way that hints at trouble. In this lens, he almost looks like a different person. He almost looks like the JJ Maybank everyone talks about. The lady killer, the delinquent, the liar. He is a liar. He lied to you.

“Hey,” he says, smile wavering when he notices you. “What, uh…What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

He glances at his friends then back at you. Licking his lips, nodding, he takes another step over. “Alright, yeah, we were just gonna–”

“Alone, JJ,” you say sternly. “We need to talk alone. Now.”

The Pogue’s excitement simmers down and they share looks. You know how you look, how you sound, but you don’t care. JJ clears his throat and nods. He looks at John B (who is head to toe in dirt and mud, and you don’t have the energy to wonder why let alone to ask) and an unspoken conversation seems to unfold, and John B recommends to the others that they should go hang on the pier. 

Ashley’s mouth around JJ’s dick. 

As they make their way over to the water, you rise to your feet and venture inside. You’re suddenly restless, desperate for a thing to do. JJ isn’t ever far behind. He flicks on the lamp as you mindlessly wander to the kitchen. You fill a glass with water and chug about half of it. You stare at the window, unable to make out anything through the reflections of light against dark. Instead, you watch JJ hover nervously in the room. He’s fiddling his fingers together, rocking slightly on the heel and ball of his feet. Taking a slow, steadying breath, you place the glass down on the counter and turn to face him. Head hung, eyes slipping closed, you find your voice. 

“I’m gonna ask you this once,” you say, “and I need you to be completely honest with me, okay?”

JJ’s quiet for a moment. Then, “okay.”

You take another breath, hoping to ease the nauseous but only making it worse. Raising your head, opening your eyes, you meet JJ’s gaze. 

“Did you sleep with Ashley?”

JJ’s brows twitch. “What?”

“Just answer the question, JJ, please,” you reply. 

But JJ shakes his head, defensive. “Why the fuck would you ask me that?”

“You said you’d answer–”

“--No, no,” he says, taking a few steps towards you. He points accusingly. “Why the fuck would you ask me something like that?”

“Why can’t you just answer the question?” you sharply ask. 

“Because it’s none of your fucking business,” JJ snaps. 

Your lips part, eyes widening, genuinely taken by surprise. You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You have no right to ask me something like that,” JJ snarls, eyes narrowed as if you’re the one at fault. 

“I have every right to ask you something like that,” you argue. “I’m your girlfriend, JJ. I’m entitled to know that.”

“Entitled? Entitled? Jesus - you’re fucking entitled to everything, you kooks," JJ sarcastically derides.

It stings. Salt in a wound. He isn’t the one that gets to be angry right now. That’s not fair. You stare at him, lips parted, and despite the stray bullet, you can’t help but keep focus. Shaking your head, you hopelessly say, “why can’t you just answer the question, JJ?” 

He lets out a tense exhale. He turns away from you, paces the length of the room. Takes his cap off. Messes with his hair the way you like to. Stands, back to you, hands on his hips, for a long, long, minute. Another sigh fills the quiet and yet somehow, this one feels different. Your heart cracks. 

“It was before we met.”

“How long before?”

“I don’t know–”

“Yes, you do,” you interrupt. “How long before, JJ?”

“Jesus, I don’t–” He snaps, spinning back around, but then he stops himself. Meets your eyes. Realises something, perhaps. Sighing, shaking his head, hanging it, he says, “maybe a week. Two, maybe.”

A week. 

One week. 

Your eyes slip shut as that same, awful, agonising pain slices you in half. Cuts every neuron, every nerve, every cell. The tissue and muscle tear apart from one another and the pain finds solace in your heart. 

One week. 

Lips grimacing in an ugly frown, the tears finally fall freely. 

JJ’s steps echo as he crosses the room to you. His hands try and hold yours but you wriggle them free, shaking your head. A sob slips past your salt-slicken lips and you try to stifle it with your hand. 

JJ’s fingers inside of Ashley.

“Baby, please just…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you blubber. When you look into his eyes, the pain just worsens. More sobs come and you gasp for air. “Why didn’t you tell me that, JJ?”

“I didn’t think there was any need to! I…” He scrambles for reasons, explanations, but there are none. 

You cry and cry. You’re not even sure what is causing the hurt. All you know is that whatever it is, it hurts so fucking bad. 

Your hands cup over your mouth and you shake your head, trying to steady your breaths but to not avail. Slipping past him, needing some room, you begin to pace the room now. 

“It was before we met, Y/N,” JJ tells you. 

“That’s not the point, JJ,” you say, wiping your cheeks. 

“Not the point? It’s entirely the point,” he argues. His defensiveness has come back, always quick to shield and deflect. JJ was raised in a house of arguments: it was his way. “I didn’t know you then.”

“But you did after,” you counter. “You did after and you never told me.”

“Because why would I?” he shouts. Catching himself, he visibly tries to calm himself. Tone normal, he repeats, “why would I? I figured my past didn’t matter.”

“But that’s the problem, JJ,” you loudly say. “You always just assume things and you don’t tell me anything. Ever. I feel like I’m always the last one to find out.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“The Royal Merchant, JJ!”

“Oh my…”

“The arrest! The boat! Everything! What? You think I didn’t know? That I wouldn’t find out? You were arrested, JJ! You should have told me!”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he shouts. 

“I don’t need protecting!” you screech. 

The words hang in the air. You hate hearing your voice like that. Shaking your head, you rub tiredly at your forehead, unbothered by your already ruined makeup. 

What a fucking mess. 

“I knew this was going to happen,” JJ mumbles. 

You frown. Looking to him, you ask, “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“This. All of this. It’s too much for you,” JJ says. He gestures between the two of you. “We’re too different. I knew you’d get tired of it and you’d find a way to–”

“Oh!” you exclaim, quick to catch on. “Oh! I get it! This is about me being a kook again, isn’t it?”

“Don’t say it like that!” JJ argues. 

“Like what?”

“Like it doesn’t matter when you know it does!”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “I can’t believe we’re having this fight again.”

“We’re too different, okay? We keep trying to act like it doesn’t matter but it does.”

“It doesn’t matter, JJ, unless you make it matter,” you disagree. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” JJ laughs humourlessly. 

“You don’t tell me anything that happens in your life: you didn’t tell me about the boat, about the treasure hunt, about the arrest. I mean, did it cross your mind that I could have helped you? Bailed you out?”

“See! That! That right there!” JJ’s finger points as if singling you out in a courtroom for a jury. “I’m not your fucking pet project.”

“Pet project?” you gape, bewildered. 

“I don’t need your charity. I don’t need your fancy meals and your fancy parents and your fancy dumbass parties.”

“Oh, you’re so right,” you say sardonically. “I’m so sorry that I made you eat a five-fucking-star meal when you met my perfectly polite parents. I mean, how wicked of me! The horror!”

“You don’t get it,” JJ mutters, shaking his head. 

“You know what I don’t get, JJ? I don’t get how you can leave me out of so much. I don’t get how you sleep with one of my friends and not even tell me!”

“She’s not even your friend!” JJ laughs. “What? Do you want me to invent a time machine or something? Go back in time before I met you and not sleep with anybody? I didn’t know you yet! And I’m sorry that it happened, and I’m sorry that it hurts, and I’m sorry that I can’t take it back, but I can’t change my past, a’right?”

“I don’t care that you slept with her, JJ!” You snap. “I care that you didn’t fucking tell me!”

Again, another quiet. In arguments like these, it’s like navigating rapids. A lazy river tumbles into a violent rapid, and voices raise and things are said in desperation for clarity that could never result from such, as if throwing a life ring blindly into the waves. Your cheeks are uncomfortably tacky and sticky from your tears. Your nose is clogged and sniffly and the lump in your throat lingers. Your chest heaves, throat dry, from the shouting. JJ’s hair is sticking every which was from his restless pulling. Then skin inside his mouth is probably ripped to shreds from his anxiously gnawing. And here, stood opposite him, the two of you illuminated in the barely-there lamplight that desperately tries to expand across the room, you know you love JJ. Nothing could change that. 

Have you dug yourselves in too deep?

Shaking your head for the millionth time, you brush your fingers through your hair. 

“You never say it, y’know?”

“What?”

“You never tell me you love me,” you quietly say. 

JJ shakes his head. “Of course I do.”

“But you don’t say it,” you emphasise, meeting his gaze. “I mean…Are you ever going to be able to let go of me being a kook?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” JJ admits in a sad, defeated sigh. 

You let out your own. Sniffing, you glance away from him, eyes fixating on some random aspect of the room. Your fingers rub your lips restlessly. It was all too much, too fast, too quick. 

“Maybe we rushed into this too fast,” you mumble. “Maybe…Maybe we just need some space to think. Not a break or a break-up, or anything like that. Just some time and space.”

JJ sniffs. He clears his throat. “Maybe you’re right.”

Sighing, suddenly tired, you glance at your boyfriend. His hands grip the edge of the counter that he leans against; the muscles in his arms taught and flexed. Head hung, eyes trained on the floor, his teeth gnawing on his lower lip. He’s so fucking pretty it’s unfair, especially when the two of you are in a fight. Crossing the room to him, unable to help yourself, you wrap your arms around his middle in an embrace. He doesn’t hesitate to return it. His face buries in your hair, inhaling deeply, and you do the same to his shirt. You’ll miss this. The feel of him and the comfort. The smell and the warmth. The two of you stand like that, intertwined, neither wanting to break it. 

“I really do, y’know,” JJ mumbles at one point. “Love you, I mean.”

“I know,” you say quietly into his chest. “I love you too.”

Gently easing apart, inevitably drifting like fault lines, you look up at him with a pained, smiling expression. “Just…what if that isn’t enough?”

JJ swallows. He bobs his head as if contemplating something, like you spoke to something inside of him. “Yeah, well. I guess that’s always the problem, ain’t it?”

Before you can try to think of what that might mean, let alone ask, JJ’s pulling away completely. He grabs his cap and his keys as he walks to the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he shucks his head in the direction of the van. 

“Come on. It’s late, I’ll drive you home.”

You nod and comply, following him out the chateau and into the truck. You keep your distance again but now for entirely new reasons. You don’t talk. Somewhere in the journey JJ’s hand reaches across the bench-like seat and finds your hand, and you interlace your fingers, squeezing reassuringly. You don’t let go until you’re getting out of the truck. JJ leans against the driver’s door and you walk around to meet him. You stand in front of him and linger. Neither of you want to leave. 

“How, uh, long is this space-thing gonna last, then?” JJ wonders. 

You shrug. “I don’t know. I guess as long as we need to make a decision, really.”

“A decision about us?” JJ checks. 

You shrug again. “I guess.”

Nodding slowly, JJ licks his teeth. You raise a hand to his face, your fingers gently resting on his warm cheeks. The peach fuzz of his hair tickles your skin. It’s like your nerves are hyper aware of him now that you have to leave. A small smile blesses JJ’s face and you mirror it. Pushing up onto your toes, JJ dips his head, and the two of you share a kiss. It’s slow and abiding, sensual and bittersweet as your tongues only just brush against one another. Breaking apart, you purse your lips and try not to cry again. Arms coiling around yourself in a hug, you awkwardly take a few steps backwards, away from JJ. You wonder if you should say something but JJ seems to understand your struggle, and he gives a reassuring yet queasy smile and nod farewell. You take in the sight of him and sink it deep into your memory - slate grey t-shirt; black long sleeve underneath; cargo shorts; combat boots; dirty blonde hair; swollen, damp lips; dreamy eyes; shark tooth necklace; your friendship bracelet around his wrist; silver rings - before you turn away, walk up to your door, and never look back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There’s a gentle knock on your bedroom door. You don’t bother moving from your spot in bed, buried under your comforter, amongst throw pillows and jelly cats. You hadn’t washed your pillow yet and it still smelt like JJ. You were slightly angry at yourself for how attached to it you were, how scared you were for the smell to fade. The doorknob twists and your mom slowly walks in. She sits on the far side of the bed, your back facing her. 

“Are you going to join me and your father for dinner, little pumpkin?” she softly asks. 

“I’m not really hungry, mom,” you hum into your pillow. Your voice is croaky from want of use. Her hand sweetly lays on your head. Her fingers stroke lovingly at your hair and you press your eyes shut to ward off the tears it elicits. 

“I know we’re not always home much,” your mom says. “But you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

“I know mom,” you whisper. Then, you force yourself to roll over and face her. The sympathy on her face is so blatant that it makes you cry, and that only makes it worse. 

“Oh, pumpkin,” she murmurs. She pulls your bedsheets up and climbs in, kicking off her slippers. You crawl into her warm company and let her cradle you like you’re eight years old all over again. Vague memories fizzle into thought of how she used to hold you like after a bad dance recital or a failed piano exam. She smells of Channel and Chardonnay as you nuzzle against her sweater. “I know it must hurt.”

“He lied to me, mom,” you cry quietly. “I love him so much and he lied to me.”

“I know, darling, I know,” she soothes. The two of you stay like that for a while as you cry. It feels cathartic, letting it all out. Eventually, you pull away. You wipe at your blotchy face and sniffle loudly, and it’s so comical it makes you both laugh. Your mom shifts to sit up against the mass of pillows and you do the same, laying against her. She continues petting at your hair. “What exactly happened, darling?”

“A lot,” you say quietly. “He’s a good guy, mom. He really is. He just doesn’t always make the best decisions.”

“Mm. Like the boat?” Your head darts up and you meet her gaze. A knowing smile comes to light. “What? You think I didn’t know? Us mothers know everything, darling.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Of course I’m mad! He sunk someone’s darn boat!” The way she says it has you both laughing, yours still wet and soggy. “But your father and I did a good job raising you to know that you know a good person from a bad one. And JJ is a good person.”

“He is,” you sniff, agreeing. 

“Your father was right. We went to school with his father - it was before the academy was even built, back then. There was only the one school. We know his dad well enough to know that your boyfriend wasn’t given an easy life. When you grow up like that, it makes it harder to make the right call every time. It doesn’t excuse it - and I certainly don’t want you to go sinking boats with him - but it does explain. And the Lord told us to give grace, did he not?”

“He did,” you hum. “He just gets angry sometimes. Not at me, but just at the world, I suppose. And I can’t really blame him.” Your mind ventures back to the security guard; how quickly he turned from a hero to a villain, just because of who JJ was. 

“But I’m guessing that isn’t the reason why you’re so upset, hm?” she gently presses. 

You don’t particularly want to divulge your sex life to your parents, nor JJ’s for that matter. You don’t imagine them to believe you were a virgin - they weren’t those type of Christians - but admitting this aloud wasn’t on your bucket list. “He used to date this girl who I know, and he kept it from me. And it wasn’t just that. He keeps me out of a lot of things, mom. Like the boat, and the arrest, and some other stuff, too.”

“Ah,” she says. “I see.”

You sink against her and want to hide in the labels of her sweater forever. It feels safe here, in your cocooned bedroom. Not as safe as being with JJ, wrapped in his arms, but safe enough. 

“Did you know that I used to date Ward Cameron.” You bark out a laugh, taken aback, and look up at your mom. She’s smiling, nodding, as if to say, yes, it’s true. “Your father didn’t know, though. He found an old love letter from him in the attic from way back when and nearly saw red. I’ve never seen him so upset, if I’m honest. I suppose he’s like your boy in that way - just gets really mad, when really it’s just pain. The thing is, I never told him because I figured, ‘what did it matter?’ I loved your father and Ward was just a skeleton from my past. Sometimes we don’t always make the right calls in things out of trying to protect the ones we love. I’m sure JJ didn’t mean to keep it from you in a hurtful way, darling. He probably just didn’t want you to know because he knew it would upset you.”

“It only upset me because I didn’t know,” you grumble. She quirks a brow. Your mother knew you better than anyone else. Because she was right. Underneath that - the lie and deception - was the truth. You were jealous. You hated the thought of someone having been with JJ in that way. All the other girls were just faceless figments, as hypothetical as Schrodinger's cat. But Ashley - Ashley you knew. Ashley made it real. Real that JJ had a history, and that his history didn’t include you. Sighing, you bow your head. 

“Your father managed to look past it after a few days. We sometimes joke about it now, at things like Midsummer’s, and it’s just a little blip. People aren’t perfect, darling. You’re not and JJ isn’t. We have to give ourselves and others grace to make mistakes.”

You cuddle against her and let your eyes slip shut. She strokes at your hair the way she might pet Ranger’s fur. The tiredness creeps in and takes over silently, like day turning to night, and you finally get some sleep since the argument with JJ.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

BBBRRRINNNGGGG. BBBRRRINNNGGGG. 

You startle awake, shooting up in bed like you’ve been electrocuted. It’s one of those feelings when you don’t remember where you are or when you fell asleep. As you rub at your eyes and let them focus on your surroundings, illuminated by the soft glow of your bedside lamp through the darkness, you remember. You’re in your bed, in your room. Your mom must have left you to sleep after you nodded off, finally at some semblance of peace to get some rest. The sleep you fell into was dreamless and well-needed. 

BBBRRRINNNGGGG. 

Blindly reaching for your vibrating phone, you squint at the bright screen and make out Kie’s contact picture and name. You swipe to answer. 

“Hello?” you mumble, half-asleep. 

“Hey! Can you hear me okay?”

“Yeah,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes again. “What time is it?”

“I don’t remember. Like ten, maybe? Eleven?”

“Hmngh.”

“Are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sleepily reply. 

“I think you need to come over,” Kiara says. Something about her tone has you awake like a shot of espresso. You push the covers down off you. 

“Is everything okay?”

She sighs and that does little to ease your worries. “Look, I know you and JJ are in a bit of a fight-thing right now - I don’t know, maybe that’s why he’s acting the way he is, at least partially but–”

“Kie? What’s going on?” you interrupt. 

“I just…” She sighs again, then finally says, “I just think JJ really needs you right now.”

“I’m on my way,” you reply, hanging up. You climb out of bed and don’t bother getting dressed past pulling on a sweatshirt. The clothes on your body are three days old; you changed once since the conversation with JJ. A pair of mac and cheese stained sweatpants and an old tank top. Ranger wakes as you make your way down the stairs and you decide to let him join. It’s disorientating as you sneak out the house into darkness, considering that you fell asleep in the daylight. The two of you load into your car and you’re leaving your house in record time. In the rearview mirror you check your hair and cuss, trying to smooth it down. Your skin is makeup free and body empty of jewellery, save from the bracelet that twins JJ’s. It makes you feel somewhat naked. As if he heard the whole conversation, Ranger whines from the passenger seat. You murmur reassurances and pet his head as you drive down the deserted roads. The Chateau beams into sight from your headlights. But there’s something else. Some other light, bright and illuminating, from the yard that wasn’t there before. You park your car and climb out, Ranger quick to follow, and walk into the yard. Your eyes widen as they land on a hot tub. 

“What…the…fuck?”

“Oh, thank God,” Kiara exhales in relief, appearing in the doorway of the porch. She rushes down to you and wraps you in a hug, and you’re happy to return it. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to get involved in whatever it is going on with you and JJ, and I never really know if we’re friends or just circumstance friends but–”

“Kie! It’s fine, it’s fine,” you interrupt with a small laugh, a tad concerned. You pull apart, hands on her shoulders, to meet her gaze. Your smile melts with unease, eyes heavy with worry. “What’s going on? Is JJ okay?”

She sighs and shakes her head. She takes a step away from you and rubs at her head. “He got in a fight with his dad. Some stuff went down after you two had your…talk. I don’t know…It might just be better to ask him.”

You purse your lips and nod slowly, contemplatively. 

“He’s inside,” Kiara tells you. With that, you make your way up the porch stops. At the front door, you falter and stop. Would he even want to see you? Was this somehow breaking the rules of your ‘non-break’; not giving him the space he needs to think and function away from you? You recount the past three days of your side of the non-break. How you’ve spent them hiding in your bed, crying at the oddest moments, feeling the lack of JJ’s company like you lost a limb. Ranger rubs at your leg, whining, and you decide to trust your gut. If he wants you to leave, all he has to do is say, but you’re certain Kiara wouldn’t call for just any old thing. 

The spare bedroom door is shut. Ranger whines and whines and scratches at the door. Your hands wrap around the handle and you take a steady breath in. The rickety handle creaks as you slowly push it open, the hinges protesting loudly. One of your hands leans down to grab at Ranger’s collar to keep him by your heel. On the bed is JJ, slumped as he sits, his back to the door. 

“Kie, I told you to jus’ leave me alone, a’right? I’m fine,” he mumbles. His voice is thick like he’s been crying. You swallow. 

“It’s not Kiara,” you quietly confess. JJ whips around. His lips part and eyes gape and he stares at you as you stand awkwardly in the doorway. You probably look just as much of a mess; days-old clothing, unruly hair, make-up free and irritated skin. Funnily enough, a diet of purely Reese’s Pieces is not the best for keeping spots and blemishes at bay. 

“What are you doing here?” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Kiara called me,” you reply, shrugging as you add, “she’s worried about you and thought I should come over.”

“Oh, uh, right.”

His head slumps and he stares at the blanket atop of his bed. You purse your lips and feel the awkwardness and unease consume your entire body. Contemplating leaving, you glance behind you, into the silent hallway. But then Ranger somehow manages to slip from your hold. He races over to JJ like a rescue dog in the mountains, clambering onto the bed, ambushing JJ. He laughs at the onslaught of slobbery kisses, letting Ranger imitate a lap dog. His fingers scratch into the coarse fun on Ranger’s neck and he chuckles. 

“I missed you too, boy,” he murmurs. You smile at the sight. JJ glances over at you. 

“I figured you might need a puppy-pick-me-up. He missed you like crazy.” You then take a shaky breath as you go on to admit, “we both did.”

A look flashes across JJ’s face then. His smile lessens as if in thought, and he nods. “I missed you too.”

“I can leave if you want me to leave,” you tell him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“No,” JJ blurts, quick like a cat running from a loud bang. “No, don’t…don’t leave. Please.”

You nod. You’d stay forever if he asked you to. You’re not sure there’s many things JJ could ask of you that you’d protest to. Closing the door behind you, you wander over to the bed and sit sort of opposite to him, on the side nearest the door. Ranger settles half laid in JJ’s lap, appeased now that he’s in the company of perhaps his favourite person in the world. Your eyes survey JJ’s face for new injuries and am relieved to find none. The old have healed completely now too, thank God. That’s a relief at least. He’s unharmed. Or so you thought.

“Do you, uh…Do you remember when we went fishing, just last week? I don’t know, it feels like a lifetime ago now but…” you cut yourself off nervously with a laugh. JJ nods vaguely. “D’you remember what I said to you?”

“That you’re an armed woman, now?” JJ wonders, quirking a brow, that cute, playful smile trying to break out. 

You laugh quietly, shortly, and dip your head for a moment. “Not just that though. D’you remember that I told you that you can always tell me anything, and that I’m always gonna be on your side?” 

JJ nods again. 

“It’s kinda ironic cause I think that’s when you started putting up these walls,” you say. Another small breath in and then you continue, “and I don’t blame you for it, JJ. In fact, I think I understand it.”

His brows tug together, unclear, and you’re not sure you’ve ever known him to be this quiet before. 

“I can’t relate to you, JJ. I have my own struggles with silly, trivial kind of things but I don’t know real struggle. Not like you do. So, I don’t blame you. Why would you let a rich, stook-up Kook into that?”

“I ain’t mean it like–”

“--No, no, I’m not mad. I’m not saying that to be all ‘woe is me’ or whatever. I mean it. Like…I get it,” you interrupt, fighting to hold his eyesight. “It just hurts, y’know? Cause the thing is, I love you. I love you no matter what. No matter the ‘bad decisions’ and the stupid choices, like the Midsummer’s fiasco or whatever. But I can’t love you, JJ, if I don’t know you. If I don’t know these things about you. I don’t like being left on the outside. It makes me feel like I don’t matter to you, and I don’t know if I can take that feeling, y’know?”

JJ licks his lips nervously and clears his throat. He nods, glances around the room, uncomfortable by your candidness. You got the feeling he didn’t come from a place where conversations like these were encouraged or common. As if to reassure, your hand finds his on the blanket and you softly envelope it with your warmth. He stares at that small gesture for a long while. 

“I just don’t want you to think less of me,” JJ confesses quietly. “I’m a scumbag, a’right? I make dumbass choices and get myself into dumbass situations and I’m not good for you.”

“Yes, you are, JJ. You’re a good person.”

“No, I ain’t,” he quickly dismisses, meeting your gaze once more. And he means that. It hurts you so bad because he means it. “I ain’t a good person.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re a good person to me, okay? I don’t care about all that other noise–”

“--Well, you should, alright?” JJ snaps, losing his tether. His hand slips from your comfort to flail out into the air in a wild gesture. “I mean, Jesus! I just fuckin’ robbed a drug dealer and blew the money on a hottub, for Christ’s sake - and you’re sitting here telling me I’m a good person?”

You look down with that. JJ catches his anger and sighs, shakes his head, disappointed. “I’m sorry, I just…This is what I mean. I can’t let you get that close to me.”

“I get it,” you mutter. “You don’t love me, JJ, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.”

“No, hey - what? I never said I don’t love you.”

“You never tell me you do,” you whisper, eyes stinging with tears yet again. You look at him and offer him a shaky smile. “I don’t want to force someone to be with me, JJ.”

“I don’t want you to tie yourself to me,” JJ out-right states. As if surprised by his own truthfulness, he’s spurred on. “I don’t want you to say you’re okay with these things now and then look around in three months time or whatever, and realise just what a fuck-up you’re with.”

“I’m never gonna think that,” you tell him. “I’m never gonna think you’re a fuck-up.”

JJ looks unsure of whether to believe you or not. Your hand finds his again, the other landing on his thigh. “I mean it, JJ. I’m in love with you. I don’t care what batshit, crazy stuff you get yourself involved in, as long as I’m in it too. I’m in, okay? All of it. I’m in.”

JJ shakes his head slowly. But he’s easing up, coaxing open like a conker from its spiky shell. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling sweetly. “But I’m your baby.” 

He smiles at that. 

“So, will you tell me? All of it? Please,” you request. And he does. It’s hard at first, like he’s forcing the words out syllable by syllable, but then it gets easier. The stories. The reasons. The motives. It starts with the hurricane - hurricane Agatha - and then with the white boat that they found. That’s where he got that gun - the same gun that you used to save him from Rafe and Topper - and you distantly recall his story. Then bits and pieces continue to crop up surrounding the Royal Merchant: the compass, the package…Then comes the grocery run and the jump on Pope, and the revenge. How Pope sank the boat, not JJ. That’s when the scruff up happened at the outdoor theatre, with you wielding the gun and saving their asses. Soon after came the arrest, originally intended for Pope but JJ gladly taking the fall. The pictures in the interrogation room of those men, bludgeoned and killed with a fishing spear before being left for shark bait. How JJ was terrified of that happening to John B and, more importantly, to you.

So he started to shut you out of it. Wanted to keep you at arms length. Safe. Unaware. You couldn't get wrapped up in the Royal Merchant madness if you knew nothing about it.

"Cause I have to keep you safe," JJ mumbles, gazing into your eyes. "You're the most important thing in the world t'me, y'know? If something happened to you...and it was because of me..."

His voice trails off as if he can't bare the thought. Your heart swells. He returns to the story. To how his dad beat him when he came to pick him up, and that’s why he was black-and-blue when he came to your house for dinner with your parents. God, if only you knew. After, with Midsummers, with John B dating Sarah Cameron (hence the secret note) and the meet-up at Rixon’s surrounding the Royal Merchant and the gold. How you weren’t invited because above everything else, JJ had to keep you safe. Then, they found it. They actually found the gold, under the Crain house, and they were going to be rich. Stinking, fucking, stupid rich. That brought them to today.

“So we melt the gold down,” JJ recounts, petting Ranger’s sleeping head. “And go to this pawn shop, a’right, way up town in like dodge-ville. I’m the one who’s gotta pawn this hunk of crap ‘cause I’m the best at bullshitting, so I go in and spin this whole yarn about my dementia-crazed mom or some shit. The pawn broker sends us out to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, and we get jumped by this random guy with a gun. He held it to our heads and made us give up the gold, but John B got the upper hand, right? You following? And I lost my shit, okay? Like things just felt…With you and the whole ‘break that isn’t a break’ thing, and the gun…I lost me shit, and I wanted to get even. An eye for an eye and all that crap - I mean, you know, you’ve read the bible. So we go to his shitty ass trailer and I steal the twenty-K that I owe for that boat Pope sank. But the others weren’t, uh…they weren’t super cool with that, so I went off alone, a’right? Cause I don’t need anybody but me, yeah? And I go to my dad and give him the money to settle up with the cops. But…But he don’t wanna do that. So this whole…thing starts and…”

JJ loses his momentum. His lower lip starts to tremble and this infuriates him. Huffing, he presses his hand over his mouth. You frown, worried, brows so closely knit they might as well be one. A shuddering breath that’s so deeply unfamiliar to hear in JJ lets slip. A tear trickles tellingly down his cheek. 

“Oh, JJ,” you murmur. 

“I nearly fuckin’ killed him,” JJ gasps. More tears fall. He stares you down as he repeats, “I nearly fuckin’ killed him, baby. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take it–”

You throw your arms around his shoulders and pull his shivering body into you. JJ rests his head on your shoulder, burying his face in your collarbone, and he sobs. Your own eyes well at the feeling of his pain leaking onto you, and you press your nose against the collar of his shirt, breathing in the only smell that can bring you calm. Your own personal brand of nicotine. His arms raise to cradle your back, holding you close just as you do him, and you let him cry. With every tear, it’s as though another brick has been pulled free from the walls he’s been building in the past two short weeks.  

Even when the headfirst sadness has passed, you hold him. It’s safe here, in this corner of the world, once again lapped in moonbeams and darkness. 

“I do love you,” JJ says against your skin. His breath is warm as it fans across the flesh. “It’s jus’...my family, we didn’t do the whole talking thing. I’m not used to really tellin’ anybody anything, let alone how I feel. It’s easy enough saying it to my friends but with you, like that…It scares the crap outta me.”

“Why?” you breathe, pulling back to be able to meet his gaze. Your head shakes as you gently say, “why is it so hard when I say it to you all the time? You know I’m never gonna turn you away or shoot you down for saying it.”

“I don't’ know,” JJ admits. “I don’t know, I guess I just have this thing that tells me I shouldn’t eve tell anybody.”

“In case you ever wanna take it back?” you wonder. 

JJ swallows thickly like taking medicine, and he shakes his head. His eyes look so sad you could weep as he admits, “No. In case you ever want me to.”

Lips parting, something clicks in your head. You think about the past two weeks. How your parents welcomed JJ into their house with open arms, whereas JJ is lucky if he can stay in his for a week without a blow-up. How you lean into your mom for comfort, whereas JJ can only find that in the bottom of a bottle. You’d only ever been met with love and grace and forgiveness. JJ? He knew betrayal and abandonment and disdain. You said you understood before, the first time he told you that he loved you, way back after the fight at the outdoor movie, but you didn’t. Not until now. 

You feel yourself begin to smile. Your eyes lose their squint like the light’s eased up, and your body feels lighter from the epiphany. Now. Now you know everything about JJ. 

“JJ. You took me from my world of grey and gave me colours that I’ve never seen before. The kind of colours I can’t see with anyone else. I’m never going to stop loving you, just for that,” you profess. 

JJ’s eyes gaze into yours, The universe sighs. Time smiles. Like spring, there’s suddenly change. His lips find yours like a migrating bird returning home, and you feel as though you can finally breathe right for the first time in three days. Your fingers slip into his hair, combing through the strands, and JJ’s palms and fingers caress across your figure, as if tracing your body back into his mind. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips. “I love you.”

There’s still some things, some tangles to smooth out, so you’re both walking the same map in the same way, but those can wait. It can all wait. Because, right now, for maybe the first time, you finally see JJ for who he really is. And as the two of you kiss, you realise that this was all it ever had to be. It was never that complicated, never that layered, because all that mattered was JJ. Wonderfully, recklessly-imperfect, Pogue through-and-through JJ. 

read the alternative ending to gamble here!

[celianity]

we go down together - jj.m.

After being abandoned by JJ in a jail cell, you are not really on speaking terms. The chaos becomes perfect when three uninvited guests crash your little beach party.

disclaimer: just tapping back into writing - might turn this into a little story project (if anyone's interested)

warnings: slight swearing, fighting, mentions of underaged drinking, english not being my first language

His eyes are more unfathomable than the depths of the ocean as he watches me across the campfire. The flames draw sharp shadows on his face, and I avert my gaze, afraid to cut myself on its edges.

It wouldn't be the first time I've stained my hands with blood trying to resist his almost magnetic pull. But by now I have become a serious opponent myself.

The hand on my lower back increases its pressure, pulling me closer to the side of the tourist whose name I'm going to scream tonight with such conviction that JJ’s ears will bleed even on the opposite side of town.

Am I getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game? Yes. Will I conciliatory hold out my hand and admit defeat? Of course not.

The beer in my red plastic cup is stale, warmed slightly by the fire and the still-comfortable temperatures, just right to make the fingers wandering along my hip more bearable. JJ gulps and brings his own cup to his lips to mask the disgusted tug around his mouth.

I know all too well how that sight can burn into your retinas, how cruelly it can keep you awake at night while you ruffle your hair and curse yourself for your own stubbornness.

Rough fingertips against the bare skin of my thigh bring me back to the present and I find myself wishing they belonged to someone else. The conversations of my friends crash over me like a mighty wave, their laughter carried away by the wind along with the music playing quietly in the background. A strand of hair flies across my eyes, veiling the scenery around me for a split second, before it’s carefully being tucked behind my ear by the boy next to me.

Kiara's gaze is razor sharp, slashing my ribcage open with a clean cut down the middle, baring the scars on my heart. Under her scrutiny, I feel weirdly naked. Not the kind I would prefer under any other circumstances.

I give her a carefree smile and turn back to my companion, whom I met on the beach while surfing this afternoon.

I didn't tell Kie about the last fight between JJ and me for fear she might finally be forced to choose a side. That it most likely wouldn't be mine makes the corners of my eyes sting suspiciously.

Each rash word is just another mark on JJ and mine's score. Gentle touches, breathless sweet nothings, secret revelations, nullified by accusations that etched our throats with every syllable. A lame maneuver to hide the real depth of our feelings.

As if JJ didn't relive each of the fears in my head through the stories, I used to tell him late at night. As if I didn't anchor each ounce of his guilty feelings inside the pit of my stomach to relieve him of this burden at least a little.

The familiar outline of his clenched jaw almost makes me forget why we're at loggerheads. My fingers twitch and I claw them into the hem of my dress. He's not getting off the hook so easily this time, no matter how much I miss the weight of his arms around my waist when lying in my bed.

The idea of sinking Topper's boat may have been my doing, but the finer points of the exercise came from JJ's imagination.

I suppress a shudder at the memory of the musty dampness of the puny jail cell where I spent last night. Alone, mind you. That traitorous asshole tucked tail when the going got tough and Shoupe showed up at the chateau’s door. And yet, with each passing minute, I find it harder to keep stoking my rage.

I swallow hard and sway the half-empty plastic cup in my hand before emptying it.

In a household with unstable foundations, news of an arrest is like an all-consuming earthquake that leaves no survivors. Not to mention the sizable bail, which for my parents was more onerous bureaucracy than serious problem. A metaphorical slap on the wrist and they turned back to more interesting things.

I endured my friends’ taunts this morning with a gracefully raised chin and indulgent laughter, because I have solid ground under my feet while JJ balances on a tightrope.

Still, his betrayal hurts more than I care to admit.

Before my mind starts spinning again, I focus on the banter between John B and Pope, who are about to use absurd comparisons to fight out who would stay alive longer in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

A winner can no longer be declared, because at that moment three shadowy figures approach from one side of the beach. Their quick steps sink into the sand, making their strides look rather stodgily. This impression fades relatively quickly when I identify the figure in the middle as Rafe.

“Hey, ex-con,” he calls out, the echo of his voice reverberating in my bones. Topper and Kelce flank him on either side, as if clinging to their mom’s skirt.

The realization makes me laugh in surprise and I quickly slap my hand over my mouth. John B gives me an alarmed look before stepping around the campfire to face our uninvited guests.

JJ lowers his cup to the ground and rises as well, arms folded defensively in front of his chest. I can almost feel the tension in his shoulders and unintentionally take a step toward him until cold fingers snake around my wrist to hold me back.

A broad back slides into my field of vision and my patience snaps. Roughly, I yank my wrist free and circle the fireplace, stopping next to John B, ready to face the inevitable melee with my head held high. Somewhere behind me I hear JJ’s knuckles crack.

“Have they now robbed you of the last vestige of your already deficient manners?” Rafe taunts and the hostile undertone in his voice makes me shudder. “So, a little refresher of the natural hierarchy should be just right, don't you think? It’s always tit for tat.”

“Since when do you let Mommy fight your battles, Top?” I ask challengingly, studiously ignoring Rafe. “We’re even, you dickheads. You had your fun with Pope, and in return we had ours with the Malibu. You should have heard her heartbreaking screams as she sank.” My choice of words hit the mark.

Rafe marches directly toward me with sweeping strides and I brace myself for his outburst of volcanic proportions, already seeing myself covered in ash kneeling amid the lava-covered landscape. He should really learn to get his temper under control. My jibes would be far less fun if they were met with an impenetrable countenance.

He has almost reached me when a blond shadow tackles him to the ground, causing sand to spurt up in all directions.

For a second of shock, we are all frozen before Kiara’s shouts and Pope’s groans tear the night apart. Topper has knocked the latter to all fours with a well-aimed punch to the stomach. Kie lunges for Kelce’s back, who gets a hold of John B’s shirt collar at that moment.

It's a chaotic mess of flailing limbs and strained groans.

And I stand at the edge of the scenery, squinting at the fast moving body shapes dimly lit by the fire like a fish out of water.

My tourist companion secretly sneaks away behind my back, but I couldn’t care less.

Taking a deep breath, I snap out of my stupor and grab Rafe’s lunging arm around the bicep before it can smash down on JJ’s face like a sledgehammer. The momentum of his movement makes me stumble, and I claw my fingers harder into his heated skin.

He whirls around, an animalistic glint in his eyes, ready to get back at me even though we’re not on direct war terms with each other. Shining blood wets his split lip, forming a thin trickle down his chin.

A spark of fear settles in the pit of my stomach. But he's not the only one willing to take a slap in the face for his friend.

“Don't even think about it", JJ presses through clenched teeth, kicking Rafe’s legs out from under him. He collapses like a blown up building and JJ manages to put him in a relentless headlock. “We’re even, you bastard.”

Finally, he pushes Rafe off of him as the latter's complexion turns an unhealthy dark red in the fire’s glow. Rafe lands on his stomach, unable to soften the fall with his hands, growling faintly.

My warning catches in my throat as JJ turns to face me, gifting Rafe with a moment of inattention for his next attack.

JJ’s fingertips slip from my outstretched palm.

Rafe pins him to the ground with both knees, fingers curled into claws around his neck, squeezing relentlessly, while JJ wriggles under his weight to get free again.

Feverishly, my eyes search for a way out, but the others are too busy trying to prevent various body parts from being broken. Pope and John B keep Kelce and Topper at bay, while Kie tries in vain to settle the fights.

That’s when I spot JJ’s backpack leaning against a log by the campfire and rush toward it, desperately hoping to find the gun inside that he rarely leaves the house without lately. He has an unfortunate habit of not having it at hand in dicey situations.

Half blinded by my rising panic, I rummage through the contents of the bag, gracing the coldness of his motorcycle keys and a bag of weed before my fingers close around the handle of the gun.

Two shots rip through the night, interrupting the melee for a few seconds. Steadying my hand with the other, I aim the barrel at Topper's sweaty face, wandering further over Kelce until I reach Rafe.

“The next shot is a hit.” I warn, taking a few steps forward to reinforce my words.

Breathing heavily, JJ shoves Rafe off of him and struggles to his feet. My friends slowly drag themselves behind me until Kooks and Pogues are facing each other, waiting with baited breath. Kie has an arm wrapped around Pope’s waist in support. John B, panting slightly, brushes his tousled curls from his forehead.

“You heard her.” Kiara snaps. “I wouldn't tempt fate if I were you.”

Rafe spits disdainfully at our feet before shooing his entourage in the opposite direction with a nod of his head. Apparently, a spark of his sanity has managed to save itself from JJ’s blows.

“Holy shit.” Pope moans, slipping from Kiara's grasp to slump against a tree trunk, his face contorted in pain.

“Now would you please put that away?” JJ asks, hesitantly closing a blood crusted hand around the barrel of the gun.

I glare at him. My heart is pounding, adrenaline flooding my veins, and for a split second I'm afraid my finger might slip on the trigger. I release my tense grip and drop the gun to the ground in front of him.

“Careful, Maybank. I may have just saved your ass, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten about my little jail holiday.”

His gaze becomes veiled again and it’s like sitting in this damn cell anew, hands clasping the bars, waiting to be released. But this time I turn around and throw away the key.

For now, I don’t crave the sweet taste of freedom.

[hazelsmirrorball]

Holidate

pairings: JJ Maybank x Kook! Reader summary: Y/n lies to her parents to make them accept her boyfriend, JJ.  warnings: angst, toxic relationship, fight (not physical) English isn’t my main language so sorry for any mistakes. a/n:   HI! i'm back and I wanted to say I’m sorry for being mia. I was busy with college and planning galentines with my friends. Since I didn’t upload for several days I will be making up for it by uploading more than one imagine to catch up. So hope you guys enjoy this sad imagine!!

previous imagine Cupids Fourteen Love Stories Masterlist

JJ tugged around the fancy tie he was wearing trying to make it stop suffocating him. He hated this, he hated this fancy suit and he hated this damn party. He looked around taking in his surroundings knowing that if it were another occasion and he was asked to a party like this he would’ve said no. He wasn’t like this, he didn’t like fancy drinks, fancy outfits and fancy occasions. JJ preferred unprepared parties, a week old dirty outfit and cheap beer but when Y/n came into his life he knew he had to change.

JJ had met Y/n through Kie and quite honestly he didn’t know how to explain how they ended together but they just did. Y/n was a kook, her family was one of the richest families in figure 8. So when Y/n had asked JJ if he wanted to be her date for her parents' famous Valentines day party he agreed quickly. They had been dating for a year and never had Y/n mention her parents and JJ didn’t want to pry since he didn’t want to talk about his parents either.

At first JJ was all down to meet Y/n’s parents but when John B had told him things he had heard about the family he could feel his body tense and his nerves start to build up. It wasn’t a secret that the L/n’s were pretentious douchebags, JJ knew it but he had  pushed those thoughts away. Hearing John B was his wake up call but instead of staying home and acting sick like his best friend suggested he let himself get dragged by his girlfriend to the party.

When Y/n started entering her driveway JJ stood there in awe taking in the enormous house and all the expensive cars surrounding it.

“Promise me you won’t leave me alone” JJ said nervously biting the sides of his thumb while he saw big groups of people dressed all up entering the house. Y/n quickly slapped his hand away and looked at him with a smile.

“Everything is going to be okay JJ, I promise you I won’t leave your side” Y/n said while leaning in to kiss his lips. JJ could feel all his nerves ease down and it quickly stopped when the couple stepped out of the car a group of people approached them and that's when all hell broke loose. Kooks started approaching left and right pushing them away from each other but from JJ eyes Y/n could even care less. Her voice changed something that she rarely did with him. After a few minutes of them talking to Y/n she quickly disappeared from his eyesight.  

And that’s JJ had ended up standing in a corner holding a tray of snacks while munching on them quietly, patiently waiting for his girlfriend to appear so he could excuse himself and leave, but by the looks of it she wouldn’t care if he left or stayed. It had been two hours and he hadn’t seen his girlfriend anywhere.

“Young man, you must be JJ Maybank, am I correct?”

JJ slowly turned around looking towards the person asking for his name. None here was going to give him a second thought in this party, let alone know his name. That’s when his heart stopped,there they were Mr. and Miss. L/n asking for his name while Y/n is nowhere to be found. JJ quickly settles the appetizers down, cleaning his hands on his pants while stretching his hand to shake her dad’s hand.  

“Yes! That would be sir” JJ responded, quickly swallowing the food and sending him a smile. Y/n’s mom sent him an approving look while leaning towards him and kissing both of his cheeks.

“Oh, It’s an honor to finally meet you. Our Y/n has talked wonders about you” Y/n’s mom responded while taking a sip of her drink elegantly. Y/n’s dad nodded and looked down at the boy.

“The honor is mine. I’m so glad I can finally meet you. Y/n always talk about how great you guys are” JJ said lying with ease.

“Well may just say that you're quite handsome. Don’t know how Y/n scored a guy like you” her mom responded inspecting his every move. JJ nervously smiled but kept his composure.

“A man finally worthy of her attention. You have a great future ahead of you boy, Y/n has told me all about the things you're thinking about when you finish highschool. If I can give you a little advice, I studied at Stanford so I truly believed that’s the place to go and if you do, maybe you can even join our business”  her dad responded making JJ furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Excuse me?” JJ asked, looking between the two trying to understand if he heard anything wrong.

“ D/N, stop scaring the poor boy! He doesn’t need your business advice. His dad is a great businessman. He has to have perfect help. He doesn’t need your business to look at what he’s wearing. ” Her mom responded pointing down at his suit. JJ quickly looked down at the outfit remembering when Y/n had given him this suit as an early valentine's day gift so he could wear it here.

“I’m not following,” JJ asked, still not getting what was happening.

“No need to be humble, son. Y/n has told us about all the business your family has out of the states. I’m finally glad she started dating someone worthy and willingly wanting to stay in business. I was starting to get scared when she started hanging out with low lives at the beach” Her dad responded, making JJ finally get what was happening. He tried to calm himself by sticking his nails against his fingers.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” JJ asked as calmly as possible, not even waiting for a response he walked towards the exit locking eyes with his girlfriend before walking out the door. Before he could start his way towards his house he felt a hand hold his arm making him turn around.

“Where are you going? The party is just starting” Y/n asked, pouting at him. JJ pushed her hand away and angrily glared at her.

“Well. I’m glad you’re having fun but for me the party kinda ended so I just want to go home”

“Since when are you  such a buzzkill?” Y/n asked, annoyed at his behavior. JJ scoffed and shook his head while loosening his tie.

“Since my girlfriend left me alone in a party of people I don’t know after she promised me she wouldn’t leave. Oh and also I had a lovely conversation with your parents” He said quite loudly.

“Oh” Y/n said, her face falling.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say to your boyfriend, the business man?” He said while laughing sarcastically.

“What do you want me to tell you, JJ? That I’m sorry? That’s what you want to hear '' Y/n responded loudly getting face to face with JJ.

“Well, a person with human decency would say they were sorry. That would be the least they could do after telling all those lies about their partner  to their parents” He responded the same way.

“You should be thanking me because I made your life actually interesting” Y/n responded quickly regretting it after seeing JJ’s face.

“Yeah, you’re actually right. You did make my life interesting. But it wasn’t the fancy clothes, the lies and the gift. It was the genuine connection and moments we had together that made my life actually interesting. All of this, it’s not me and you know it. So I’ll do you and your parents a favor. I’ll leave you with the businessman of your dreams and listen to the words John B told me, leave before you get your heart broken” JJ slipped off the expensive blazer and handed it to her. JJ started walking towards his house not looking back at Y/n breaking down on the floor while holding t6he blazer. Great way to spend valentines day.

requests are open, xoxo.

[MASTERLIST]

[blitzosblog]

JJ Maybank

Oh Romeo: Today is your and JJ's wedding day 🥰

[oneday-i-will-fight-luke17]

Does anybody know good Comfort stories I could really use them right now.

Like seriously

The Last of us x Joel miller

Outer banks Rafe and jj etc

Stranger things steve and Eddie

The boys

[cameronsprincess]

timezone boost 🩷

reader being a spoiled “good girl” kook who doesn’t give rafe the time of day with his reputation and treats jj like shit when he does work around her house for her dad. at least until jj’s snap story updates with her getting fucked from behind, the hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise having that unmistakable signet ring on it and jj’s moans being heard from behind the camera as his cum starts to land on her tear stained face 😌

OH. this has been rotting since the end of july and i’m sooo sorry, i hope you see this sweet nonnie🥺🩷

CW: smut! 18+ only! threesome, jj posts it on his snap story, piv sex, male receiving oral, facial, praise and degrading. rafe ‘n jj are kinda fucked up for this but oh well.

requests | deadly duo masterlist

You’d always been known as the “good girl” on the island. You never got into any trouble, you steered clear of parties, and you definitely didn’t hang out with people who were constantly getting themselves into some shit.

Rafe Cameron was nothing if not persistent, he’d always tried to hit you up, asking what you were doing, wanting you to hang out with him, but you never gave him the time of day, why would you? He was not a good guy, and everyone knew it.

The same goes for JJ Maybank, the well known, most attractive Pogue on the island. You saw him a lot, seeing as your father had hired him to do work around your house a lot. JJ was also quite persistent, always trying to make you crack, bend your own rules, but your walls you’d spent years building up had you treating him like the no-good Pogue he was.

You treated both men pretty unfairly, at least, that’s what the public saw. No one knew that you were secretly a filthy slut behind closed doors for both the Kook and Pogue kings of Kildare Island.

“That’s it, baby, takin’ Rafe’s cock so fuckin’ good aren’t you? That tight little cunt loves to be pounded from behind doesn’t she?”

JJ’s words have your pussy clenching tightly around Rafe’s thick length, pulling a low groan from him. Your bloodshot eyes look up, finding JJ’s ocean-blues, his phone’s camera pointed right down at you.

Wanting to give JJ something good to watch later, you push your head down further, taking his entire length down your throat, eyes never leaving his. JJ groans, his free hand making its way to the back of your head, fingers tightly gripping at the messy, tangled locks. He holds your head down, forcing you to suck in breaths through your nose the best you can.

He slightly tilts his phone up, capturing only Rafe’s toned abdomen and the way his hands were tightly gripping at your hips. His fingers dig into your skin so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises later, but you’re too fucked out to care. You loved that they were your dirty little secret, loved the way they took turns fucking your throat, pussy and even sometimes your ass. They knew you had a reputation to uphold though, and they didn’t seem to mind the way you treated them in public, so long as they could fuck you like this whenever they wanted, you could do as you pleased in front of everyone else.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy feels so goddamn good, gripping my cock like she was fuckin’ made f’me.” Rafe rasps, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

JJ releases your head, allowing you to pull off of him and suck in a much needed breath of air. More tears slip past your lower lashes, making JJ breathe out a dark laugh.

“God, you look so fuckin’ pathetic, cryin’ like a fuckin’ baby while Rafe fucks that sweet cunt and I take this sweet mouth. Go on, suck my cock, princess, it’s aching for you.”

Rafe grunts, his fingers digging into your hips harder as he uses them to pull you back onto his cock, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts.

You lower your head, tongue darting out and softly swirling around the swollen, leaking head of JJ’s cock. He groans, lowering his phone back down to capture you sucking him off again.

“Eyes on the camera, baby. Don’t wanna miss a second of your facial expressions while my cock is down your throat and Rafe fucks you from the back.”

You quickly obey, forcing your eyes to look up and into the camera of JJ’s phone. You begin bobbing your head up and down his length, sucking and licking every last inch of him until you feel his cock pulse inside your mouth.

Rafe groans, slamming his hips forward one final time before his warm, sticky load is filling your pussy. “Fuuuuuck, baby, gonna have you leaking my cum for the rest of the day.” Rafe groans, holding onto your hips as he holds your ass flush against his groin as he rides out his high.

JJ isn’t too far behind Rafe, quickly pulling himself from your mouth and jerking his cock. A low, raspy groan fills the air as his cock twitches, his warm, sticky cum landing on your face and tits. JJ slowly removes his hand from his softening dick, his phone coming down and right in your face as he records the little facial he gave you.

“That’s it, baby. Gotta show everyone whose fucking girl you are, don’t we?”

In your euphoric, fucked out haze, you don’t catch JJ’s words… You just softly nod your head, saying “Yeah… Your girl.”

He and Rafe share a look, laughing lightly between one another before they both remove themselves from your bed, quickly dressing and helping clean you up. JJ tucks you into your bed after they have you completely cleaned up, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and whispering, “Maybe this’ll teach you to be nicer to us in public, baby.”

[baocean]

SPRINGSTEEN - JJ MAYBANK

First of my country songs series, listen to the song!!! (Give country a chance, I’m begging you)

Summary: Seventeen years old or twenty-seven, it didn’t matter, you still loved JJ Maybank.

Warnings: none!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x touron!reader JJ Maybank x kook!reader

It had been almost ten years since you last saw him. You could still remember like it was yesterday, though. You were freshly seventeen and were spending the summer on the Banks with your family.

The first time he saw you was when he was passing your beach house in the Twinkie, along with his other friends. John B called a hello out the window and JJ turned his head to watch you play with your little cousins in the front yard until he couldn’t see you anymore.

You were stuck in his head like a piece of bubblegum. Sort of like the one you were popping in your mouth when he first drove by. He memorized the way you looked, the way your white top made your tan skin shine, how your cut off jeans made his fingers tingle. The Ray-bands that were stuck in your messy hair, fresh from the ocean. You were wearing flip flops and still, JJ couldn’t get enough.

He made up stupid reasons to take the Twinkie, drive it across town and down your street, hoping to get another glance at you.

When he did, he pulled onto the side of the road. You were getting out of your car, an iced coffee in one hand and a bouquet of flowers from the supermarket in the other. He thought you looked like a dream.

“Are you new?” He called out the window, swallowing the nerves. He felt like he was talking to a celebrity. Something told him he wouldn’t be as nervous to talk to an actual celeb as he was calling out for you.

“I’m here for the summer. Who are you?” You replied.

“JJ. Would you go to a party with me tonight?”

“Are you going to murder me after, JJ?”

The cute blonde sticking his head out of the Volkswagen Touran was grinning ear to ear at your response. He shook his head, then you smiled, too. You shrugged your shoulders and agreed.

“I’ll pick you up at seven. You’ll be here?” He yelled, smacking his head against the door, it made a loud sound from the metal of his rings.

“I’ll be here. See you tonight.” You smiled and turned to walk up the stairs to the front door.

Fourteen days later, you were pretty sure you had fallen in love. For the first time, you were feeling something like you could jump off a cliff and no matter what or where, JJ would be at the bottom to catch you. Maybe you were just being a silly teenager, but you were certain that’s what love felt like.

JJ would take you to the old shipyard and find a container to sit on and watch the ships sail out onto the ocean or take you to his friend Kiara’s restaurant where you would sit and talk as a date until Mr. Carrera forced you guys out.

At the end of everyday, he’d take his sweet time driving you home, taking the far way around the island. He’d make you so late your parents would be angry every time you got home. You didn’t care, neither did he.

“Don’t go.” You whined one night. Sitting in the Twinkie, in your driveway. It was the third week of summer, it was a hot and sticky night, the ac was blowing your hair in a way that made JJ think you looked like an angel. He gave you a sickly, sweet smile that made you want him to kiss you. You had only known JJ for three weeks but when he kissed you, it felt like it had been years. He kissed you so sweet, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you over to sit closer to him. It was the best kiss of your life.

At twenty-seven, you still thought about him like the last time you saw him was the day before. You wondered if now, at twenty-seven, JJ would think about you too when he would hear a song from Bruce Springsteen. That summer, at eighteen, JJ was obsessed with him and Snoop Dog, saying he wanted to smoke like Snoop and sing like Bruce. He certainly smoked enough to run with Snoop Dog but you used to laugh and cover your ears when he sung along to the radio.

You were back in the Banks, in the same house on the same street, almost ten years later. The same family you were with the last time were there, except your father. When he died six months ago, he made you promise to start a tradition of making good use out the the house he paid an expensive mortgage for. So there you were, with the same cousins you used to play with in the front yard, now the same age as you were the last time.

When you saw him, he was driving by in a beat up, black Jeep. You were unloading things from your white BMW, the one you had been dreaming of buying since you graduated college from Clemson. He hit the breaks so hard the hodgepodge of items on his passenger seat went flying. You dropped your bags back into the backseat.

You almost couldn’t believe it was him. He was so handsome, the same blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, just all grown up. He let his arm hang out the side of his car as you walked over. You caught sight of your name, tattooed into his wrist. It had faded since you last saw it. He had gotten it a few weeks before you left that summer. You could remember the god awful look your mother gave you when she saw your name, tattooed on the pogue boys wrist as he shook her hand for the first time. You also remembered you didn’t care what she thought, all you could think about is that when he got it, you were holding his hand and he was telling you how much he loved you.

“Is that you, JJ Maybank?” You wrapped your fingers around the door handle and pulled it open, not thinking about what you were doing. You had guessed you just wanted to see him, all of him.

He smiled and it’s like you were sent back into time, the first time he smiled at you, in the same driveway. He nodded, stepping out the car that was still running. JJ needed to see you too, without a stupid door in the way. He wanted to see what ten years did to you.

He grew taller. Even at seventeen when sleeping at the Chateau, he would complain about not being able to rest because of his growing pains. He used to pull you into his body and tell you to kiss it better.

JJ thought you were even more beautiful than you were at seventeen. At eighteen, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. At twenty-eight, he knew you were the most beautiful woman there was.

That night, he took you out to The Wreck, where Mr. Carrera greeted you, telling you all about Kiara’s successes in Australia. ‘Born in the USA’ played over the speakers in the restaurant. JJ sang along to the lyrics.

“You haven’t gotten any better at singing.” You laughed over the Bruce Springsteen song.

“Yea, I quit smoking too. So there goes both my dreams.” He shook his head, looking up at you through his blonde hair.

“What’s your dream now?” You head your head in your hands, watching him think. His eyebrows furrowed anytime he thought hard about something. You learned that about him early on.

“Move out of my apartment, I’m barely there anyway. Get a nice house on the water and surf a ton. Open up my own surfboard company. Probably marry you, too.”

He took you by surprise. You found yourself thinking the same thing, though. Time didn’t seem to matter when it came to you and JJ.

That summer, you spent any free time with JJ. When he bought the small warehouse to start his business, you were there when he signed the lease. The first surfboard he made was for you. When you got sick as a dog for a week, he was there. You learned how good JJ was at making chicken noodle soup.

Three years later, on the other side of town, the nicer side of town, JJ and you walked along the beach. Your house was just a few hundred feet down. It was a dark blue, with a wrap around pouch and had a hammock you laid in when the sun was setting.

Your boyfriend’s business took off, he was shipping surfboards across the world daily, with lots of orders waiting for him. Your career in marketing was taking off well.

He proposed to you three years after twenty-seven. On the beach your dark blue house rested on. With a ring he saved up his entire life for.

At seventeen, you thought that summer would be the last time you saw JJ. At thirty, you wanted to laugh and tell her she was a silly teenager. You wanted to tell her that her cliff jumping love was real, and it lasted.

…….

[amandabbbbb]

summary: rafe who protects maybank!reader from luke bc jj is too busy finding gold to protect his sister

tw: parental abuse, mention of drugs, rafes sweet but kinda demanding

word count: 526

you covered a shift working at the wreck because kie could never be bothered to take a shift at her dad’s restaurant, too busy running around the island trying to find whatever gold bullshit that john b has got your brother’s friends and him hung up on. you call jj, overwhelmed from the morning of dealing with your father luke’s fit of rage.

“are you gonna be home tonight? dad just bought a bunch of drugs from barry’s and i don’t want to be alone. i’m scared.”

“sis, you know i love ya, but do you want our lives to get better or not? i’m tryna get us out of this hell, alright? so just stay in your room and don’t come out. love ya, bye.”

he hung up before you could squeeze in another cry for help. just as your salty tears fall, rafe cameron motions you over to give him his bill. you wipe your tears away and give him the fakest smile. he orders you to sit in the opposite empty chair.

“are you alright, sweetheart? i heard that. you know, i know your dad’s a druggie dick. i’ve seen him at barry’s. I gotta get you out of that house. i see your bruises. you know all that makeup doesn’t cover it.” he grabs your arm and rolls up your sleeve, showing your bruise from your father. you, flustered, pull away as his tone was demanding.

before you could even respond, kie’s words ring in your ears: “rafe cameron wouldn’t be caught dead eating here, especially alone. he usually spends his time at the country club. to a kook like him, the wreck is a dump. but ever since you started working there, he always sits at the same table almost every day, staring at you your whole shift, and if you aren’t his waitress, he makes a huge fuss. he’s so sweet to you, always.”

“rafe, really, i’m alright. don’t worry about me.”

“stay at mine tonight, y/n. i’ll take care of you.” he sets 1000 dollars down on the table. he usually gives you a 100 or 200 dollar tip but never this much. you barely know rafe.

“rafe, no. i can’t take this. i don’t even know… uh, uh, rafe, i can’t.”

“stop mumbling and take it. your dad spends all his money on drugs and your brother’s too goddamn worried about god knows what to even be home to take care of you. so i’m going to man up and protect you, okay? so shut up.”

that night after your shift, you stay at rafe’s house. he lets you stay in sarah’s room since the camerons are away. for the first time in ages, you finally relax, safe from your abusive father. you fall asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the stress. rafe makes sure you’re comfortable, checking on you throughout the night. when you wake up in the morning, you find a note and breakfast waiting for you. the note reads:

“good morning, sweetheart. had to run some errands. i know we’re very different but i know what you’re going through. stay as long as you need. you’re safe here. - rafe.”