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featherandferns · 2 years ago

Text

F.W.B. (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader

content warning: drug use; sex (protected; oral; p in v)

word count: 9k (o god)

blurb: friends with benefits (phrase) - a friend with whom one has an occasional and casual sexual relationship; no feelings attached.

The first time it happened, it was after a kegger.

Sunset had turned dusk on the beach. There had been the vague smell of smoke from the bonfire, sticking to everyone’s clothes, and beer, liquor and marijuana. Cigarettes and cider. The Boneyard was a free for all: Kooks and Pogues and tourists alike. If you wanted to let lose, maybe have a dance and shotgun a few beers, then you could. If you want to catch-up with your friends, make the most of the summer, then you could. And if you wanted a quick hook-up, be it a fling or otherwise, you could. That was usually the way JJ leaned. It seemed tonight, you had leaned that way too. That was how you had ended up in bed with him.

Now, you balanced on one leg, leaning against his door for support, wrestling on your trainer. You were already dressed.

JJ was watching you from the bed.

“You do this a lot?”

You frowned and looked up from your foot.

“What?”

“Like, do you hook up with people a lot?”

“Why would you ask me that?” you asked, somewhere between offended and confused.

“Just making conversation,” he shrugged.

JJ leant over to grab papers and bud from his bedside table, preparing to roll. His arms flexed when he did. It was already hard to remember how they felt wrapped around you; pulling you closer, tugging you nearer.

“Making conversation by asking if I’m a whore?”

“Woah!” he laughed, meeting your gaze again, wide eyed. “I never said whore!”

“What else could you mean?” you say, going back to tying your shoelaces.

“Just wondering,” he mumbled. When you looked back over, he was concentrating on laying the bud evenly in the papers. Sighing, you stood back on two feet.

“How about you?”

JJ looked up again, brows furrowed in question.

You held back your smirk, putting on an overly sweet, gushing voice as you went, “I bet you get like so many girls, JJ. Oh my God.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, going back to his rolling. “Touché.”

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned.

It was still dark outside. The crickets and owls made a symphony of the banks. Mosquitos hovered around the lamp that was on, having snuck in through the cracked open window. There wasn’t anybody else at the place. You’d followed JJ back to what you assumed was his house about an hour and a half into the kegger. Sighing, you glanced around the room and debated whether to head straight home or go back to the kegger. People would still be hanging around: it wasn’t too late. JJ hadn’t offered for you to stay over and you hadn’t suggested it. You knew that that wasn’t how these things worked. You didn’t mind that.

“You want a hit?” JJ asked, holding up the now finished joint.

You considered him a moment. Bare torso, abs proudly on display, basking in the orange hue from the bedside lamp. Hair messy and damp with sweat from the forehead, which still held a sheen like a freshly waxed board.

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking perch on the foot of the bed.

Crossing one leg under the other, you watched as he lit up and took a long drag. Taking it from him, you did the same, the vapour gently dissipating before your eyes. The smell consumed your senses, the drug slowly taking effect, mellowing you out. Handing it back, you rested back on your arms and took in his room.

“Where’re your parents?”

“Huh?”

“How come you got the place to yourself?” you wondered, looking back to him.

“I don’t. Not really. It’s my friend John B’s place,” JJ said. “I’m just crashing here.”

“John B…John B…Why do I know that name?”

“He goes to the same school as us,” JJ told you. That was something you’d come to learn when you first started talking to him, earlier that night. Gesturing with his free hand to his hair, he added, “brown hair? Kinda long?”

A picture came to mind, of someone you vaguely remembered from one of your classes. The name seemed to match the face well. Angular face and sharp cheekbones. Tanned skin and the strange memory of a bandana, always attached to him one way or another. You nodded.

“Ah, yeah. I remember.”

“We’ve mostly been hanging out here for the summer,” JJ said, taking another hit.

“Doing what?”

“Surfing. Fishing. Odd jobs to fund the necessities.”

With the latter sentence, he smirked and held up the joint. You smiled back.

“So, I’m taking you as a live-by-the-moment sort of guy?”

“I don’t know,” JJ thought. He studied the joint a moment. “I guess I am, yeah. Like a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda guy, I reckon.”

“Ah,” you hummed. When he offered the joint, you gladly accepted, taking another hit.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you a planner?” he wondered.

You took one more hit and handed back the joint. It felt strange, how easy it was to make conversation, and light conversation at that, as if half an hour ago you weren’t as close as two people can get. You didn’t much mind, though.

“Maybe,” you said.

JJ laughed, shifting further up the headboard and messing with his hair. “You always this secretive?”

Giving a small laugh, you shrugged and sighed. “Maybe…”

“Well, I like girls with a bit of mystery,” JJ grinned suggestively.

You chuckled at that. Getting to your feet, heading to his bedroom door, you replied, “don’t get your hopes up, Maybank. I’m not much for commitment.”

“Hell, neither am I,” JJ agreed, almost joyously. He tipped his joint to you as if he were a Victorian gentleman, tipping his hat in farewell. “But I have a feeling I’m gonna see you around.”

Something about that made you pause. You raised a brow as if in challenge. “Oh, you do?”

“Mhm,” he grinned cheekily, tongue pressing against his cheek.

The way he sat, half naked, confident in his skin and his charm: there are few people who hold that sort of aura around them. Noticing this, you began to smirk, eyes narrowing in something akin to suspicion.

“You’re a player, aren’t you? I bet you’ve got hoes.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t know me like that.”

“Maybe not,” you said, walking towards him again. “But I know guys like you. Yeah, you like the chase. The feeling of getting someone to fall for you, to be weak for you. The thrill it gives.”

“You psychoanalysing me or something, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t be much to note,” you replied easily.

“Why don’t you try me on out? I know you wanna be friends,” JJ boldly said.

Licking your lips, you bit back your smile. Hands on your waist, you rocked on your feet in thought. The weed was giving your brain a nice buzz. Paired with the beer from the kegger (that had mostly worn off), it was a pleasant thrum running through your body.

You sighed, as if he’d twisted your arm and glanced around for a pen. When you found one (abandoned on the desk) you walked over to him and began to write on his forearm. He seemed taken off guard at first, before shamelessly looking down your top as you leant over him. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t like there was anything to hide now.

“You didn’t get a good enough look earlier or something?” you mumbled. You clocked his grin in your peripheral.

“If only I could take a picture. Think it’d last longer.”

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Every Goddamn night,” he smirked.

You’d be lying if that didn’t stir your stomach in the most delectable of ways. There was a reason why you’d ended up in his bed and not somebody else’s.

Finishing off the last digit, you capped the pen and placed it on his bedside table. Then, you stole the forgotten joint from his fingers and helped yourself to a drag. He watched you, mild surprise written on his face, and then full-on shock as you grabbed his jaw, fingers somewhat firm as you guided his mouth to yours. Exhaling into his mouth, messily falling into a kiss, you smiled as you felt his body go slightly slack under you.

He wasn’t the only one who liked making people feel weak.

Pulling away, you smiled down at him. His lips were still parted, wet from your spit. The image of it stirred something inside you.

“Text me, if you wanna prove me wrong,” you challenged lightly. With that, you gently patted his face, turned and left his bedroom.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it a moment as you caught up with yourself.

The smell of weed was weaker out in the hallway. It was also darker, with no moonlight flitting through any windows. Instead, wooden walls, adorned with picture frames. You took the time to passingly inspect them as you went to leave. An older man (bearded and broad) with glasses, and a woman with pale skin and dark, nearly black hair. Another of a man fishing. Several of who you could now confirm was John B, some of which JJ appeared in, alongside a brunette girl and dark-skinned boy. One photo of this consistent gang made you smile. Arms looped over one another’s shoulders, hair wet and body littered with water droplets that twinkled under the sun and camera flash like glitter. Dopey smiles on all their faces. Maybe around thirteen or fourteen. For some reason, the picture stuck around in your head as you left the house, starting your walk home.

The second time it happened, it was after midnight.

“Is this seriously a booty call text?”

JJ was leaning against the doorframe of the porch’s netted fencing. Looking down at you, as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, he glanced at your upheld phone, open on his text message. Your conversation thread was phenomenally short. Impressively short.

You up?

Who is this?

The best sex you’ve ever had.

“Knew it,” he grinned.

You frowned, befuddled. “What?”

“I’m the best sex you’ve ever had,” he sighed casually, stretching his arms out. You finally caught on and immediately rolled your eyes.

“Seriously?”

“How else would you know to come here?”

JJ’s eyes scanned your body, head to toe, then back again. You felt a zip run down your spine, but you didn’t want him to think he was winning. You wanted to hold onto your dignity for a little longer.

“There’s only one person who I’ve hooked up with who’s shameless enough to send a ‘you up’ text,” you told him, beginning up the stairs. “It was pretty easy to figure it was you.”

JJ rolled his eyes and started down the few steps to meet you halfway. Standing over you, blue eyes staring down, he gnawed on his lower lip, slowly letting his smirk shine through.

“Well, it worked. That’s good enough for me.”

His lips on yours was now somewhat familiar. You had a sense for how he kissed. Strong at first, all consuming, and then tender as if he were pulling back, easing off. Then stronger again, possessive even. It was captivating and confusing and messy. When his hands traced around your waist, lower over your ass, cupping just beneath to let his fingers sink into the skin of your thighs, just light enough to avoid bruising, you felt yourself melt into him. Arms looping around his shoulders, tethering around his neck as if threatening to strangle. Grunts and moans and heavy breathing as it all become shamelessly obscene. JJ stumbled up the stairs, tugging you with him, and eventually the two of you were on the porch. He seemed to have a vague idea of where to bring you because soon he was tumbling backwards onto a sofa, and you were being pulled down on top. You chuckled, somewhat breathless, against his lips.

You fingers found his hands that had come up to your waist, scratching at your skin, teasing at your t-shirt. Looping your fingers into his, interlocking them sweetly, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. Not until you took your strength to push his arms above his head, holding them down. You moved to better straddle him, feeling him against your thigh, hard through his shorts.

When he opened his eyes, he looked intoxicated and spent. Wet, swollen lips. Pink cheeked. Muscles straining as you held his arms down. You knew he had the strength to push you off, to break free from your hold, but something about the fact that he hadn’t, that he wasn’t, turned you on even more. The thought made you grind back against him, and you relished in his groan.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Leaning down again, your lips found the nape of his neck. It began with kisses. Light and sweet, like a child planting dainty pecks on flower petals. Then, you slowly, sensually, and ever so softly, dragged your teeth against the skin. You felt him inhale sharply beneath you. The way the muscle running up his neck tightened, was as if he’d clenched his jaw. You smirked. Working on a hickey or two, you let him free his hands, body almost sighing in relief as he began to touch you again. Your ass, your waist, your legs. Lasciviously coming to your chest, thumbs circling the underside of your breasts. Dragging over your nipples, sensitive through the thin cotton. You moaned against his skin, feeling yourself clench. This was good.

“You wanna take this off for me, pretty girl?”

“You want me to?” you ask back.

“Why’s everything a challenge with you, huh?”

You could hear the grin in his voice, crooning and sensual. Something right out of a fantasy. You leaned back, sitting back on his waist. As you pulled off your top, his hands came to rest on your waist, fingers skimming the skin patiently. Once off, and tossed to the side, you bit your lip as if pretending to suppress your smile, watching as he took you in. You’d once been insecure of your body, the way any girl had, but you felt unashamed to admit that after sleeping with your first boyfriend, that fear went away. They didn’t care what shape you were or what size. The poor suckers are just so glad to be in a position where a girl is willing to sleep with them, that they have no complaints.

That said, the way JJ took you in, hands carefully inching up your body as if teasing you, cupping your tits with just enough pressure to make you sigh, head starting to tilt back to the sky…You felt like the prettiest girl on the planet.

“Jesus Christ, thank God for that kegger,” he mumbled as if in a daze.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then leant down to kiss him again.

From there, no more time was wasted. His shirt joined yours, somewhere on the porch floor, and as the susurrus of the late night-early morning wind rattled the netting, making some wind chimes attached to a far tree sing-out hauntingly, you ended up on your knees on the porch floor between JJ’s parted legs.

The grin that came to JJ’s face when his brain catches up is enough to light up the night sky. But as you go to finish tugging off his boxers, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait.”

Your hands halt on the waistband, eyes flashing up in concern. He’s glancing around, bare chest rising and falling a little more than natural, out of breath from the antics. Then, he’s handing you a couch cushion that he’d somehow found. You take it slowly, confused.

“For your knees,” he explained, nodding down.

You followed his line of gaze and do as he suggested, shifting yourself so your legs were no longer on the splintering floor. It wasn’t that you’d been particularly uncomfortable before, but it certainly felt nicer. There was something weirdly sweet about it and it made you smile.

As if in thanks, you planted a kiss to JJ’s bare inner thigh. Then another, and another, closer and closer. His boxers join the pile and you take your sweet time going down on him.

On the fifth time, it was tryst.

It was a humid night. The air felt thick with moisture, as if warning of rain tomorrow, and you felt like in the chateau it was ten-fold worse. The sex in the air probably didn’t help the clammy feeling that came over you. JJ seemed to notice your discomfort because, once you were clad in your underwear again, he proposed the two of you go outside for a bit.

On the grass outside was a bench, a little old and wobbly. JJ tossed some couch cushions and blankets your way from the porch, and you barely caught them, chuckling. Once the bench was a little comfier, the two of you settled on either end. JJ pulled out a joint, as per tradition, and lit up. The two of you passed it back and forth, telling dumb jokes and proposing dumber philosophies. The conversation eventually died down, as did the craving for weed, and you stretched out your legs onto JJ’s lap, lolling your head back to look at the stars.

The weed made you feel lax and mushy, and you watched as the sky stretched on for miles. Constellations appeared from thin air, twinkles so dainty and brilliant that it put you in a trance. You vaguely registered JJ lifting your right arm, guiding your fingers to his lips. He pressed kisses against them, one by one, and then to your palm. It’s this that caught your attention; your eyes flitting down from the sky to find his already watching you. Against your leg, you feel him harden slightly under his shorts. A part of you considers teasing him about it and cracking a joke, but the thought gets pushed aside. Instead, you shift so he can climb atop. He kissed up your tummy, over your bra covered chest, up your neck, leaving a hickey. You sigh and go pliant like soft clay. Your hands seemed to find home in his hair and you gently rake your fingers through the messy blonde locks. Kisses to your jaw. Cheek. Earlobe. Lips. Then the two of you are making out. It’s different than the other times; there’s no rush to it and no definitive place it will lead to. There just is.

When you eventually broke apart, JJ rested his head on your chest. Your fingers find home in his hair once more, teasing through some nots, beginning to braid some longer strands together. For some reason, you want to ask him why he is always at John B’s house, and never his. You want a real answer. But you don’t. You know it isn’t the time and he won’t tell you. What should it matter anyway? You’re just hooking up. You preferred it that way.

Commitment wasn’t something that came easy to you. There wasn’t anybody to blame, necessarily. Your parents were fine enough and no ex had severely scarred you enough to traumatise you from another relationship. But those relationships had never lasted long. They’d been built on rocky foundations and delipidated rather easily. Maybe that was what put you off. The feeling that it didn’t matter; that it would all end anyway, with their face becoming another blur in the crowd, and their voice a laugh which could be recognised anywhere. That you’d end up alone, and you never understood why.

“What’s your favourite colour?” you asked JJ, trying to find an end to your thought spiel.

“Blue, I think,” he said against you. “Like the water. Kinda mossy blue?”

“Aquamarine?”

“That’s such a dumb word,” JJ sighed. You chuckled.

“Okay, so not aquamarine. How about turquoise?”

“Just blue,” JJ told you. “A very specific blue.”

“Okay, JJ,” you chuckled gently and began to undo one of the braids you’d made.

“What about you?”

“Green,” you say.

“What kind?”

“Forest green. Like…deep, cosy green,” you explained. JJ hummed as if he could picture the colour.

“Nice choice.”

“Why thank you.”

The two of you fell back into silence again, save for the common sounds of the banks. It’s the softest you’ve ever been with one another. Usually, the moment never strayed from sex and flirting. Sometimes the odd word passed back and forth as you got dressed or shared a joint. This was different. You liked it.

“What do you do for fun?” JJ asked.

“I box,” you reply.

“You box?”

“Mhm. I’m on the team at school. Been keeping practise up at the gym throughout the summer,” you say.

JJ shifts so he’s sitting up, and he meets your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“I dunno,” he said, chuckling a little. “I just had you pegged as a volleyball girl or some shit.”

“Like a tennis girly? With the little skirts and all?”

“You wouldn’t hear me complaining,” JJ couldn’t help but grin, laughing when you shove at his face. “Seriously, though. What kind of boxing?”

“Competitive,” you shrugged.

His eyes look pretty in the moonlight. You’d never really noticed before. It’s then that you realised you’d never properly seen him in daylight or spent time with him when it wasn’t night or dark.

“You on the team, d’you say?”

“Mhm. Second best.”

“Who’s first?”

“This bitch Samantha,” you muttered, making JJ laugh. “It’s not the best team but coach says he might be able to put me up for a scholarship or something.”

“You smart?”

You snorted. “God no. Thick as shit. But, if I can get into college on a scholarship, then it could be my ticket out of this shit hole.”

“You mean you wanna leave this paradise?” JJ joked, gesturing to the water. The falling-apart jetty and the horizon that had yet to warn of morning.

“Paradise on earth,” you mumbled the infamous tagline of the sign.

Sighing, you laid back down. JJ seemed to agree, resting on your stomach, legs tangled with yours.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you know that when you woke up, JJ’s comforting pressure wasn’t on you anymore. When you woke up, you were outside of the chateau, blinking against the morning sun, alone.

By the seventh time, it was a pattern.

It felt like you were seeing flashes of colour.

Clenching your eyes shut, your mouth was hanging open in silent, insurmountable pleasure. You hopelessly grasped around for some kind of purchase: the sheets, the headboard…You feel your hand being guided to someone’s head, and with that you knot your fingers through JJ’s hair. He groans at the pull. Blue. Somewhere inside of your empty lungs you find a moan, falling past your lips. It only spurs him on. Digging your heels into the skin of his back, just below his shoulder blades, you somehow drive him closer. Green. It’s not enough for him to be going down on you. It wouldn’t even be enough to have him in you. You need him in your veins, in your head, passing through every synapse and invading every molecule. You just need him, him, him.

Red.

When you come, it’s with a shuddering, hopeless, sigh of his name. One of his hands comes to splay across your stomach and hip bone, as if you had begun to lift off the bed and he was guiding you back down. The moans turn to whines and whimpers, lips trembling from the afterglow. Eventually, as your thoughts begin to come back to your head, you let out a small laugh, face burning hot. Lifting one hand to rub at your forehead, raking back your hair, you will your eyes open.

“Fuck,” you sigh through a chuckle.

Looking down, you see JJ falling back on his haunches, chest heaving as if he’d ran a marathon. As if he’d been the one being eaten out. The sight of him, wet lips and damp chin, a cocky grin gradually coming through, it makes you clench around nothing, driving your teeth into your lower lip. You coax him down to you by extending out your arm, smiling against the kiss, moaning quietly at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Best you’ve ever had?” he asks against your mouth, barely pulling back.

You swat his face away with a tired laugh.

Since that second night, he’d made a habit of asking you it every time. You’d made a habit in doing anything but to tell him the truth: that yes, he was. Nobody needed a JJ with an ego that big, not even you.

“You got some water or something?” you ask him quietly, flopping against the pillows.

“Sure,” JJ says, getting up.

The bed shifts as he walks away. There’s the faint sound of a tap running from another room. You smile to yourself and close your eyes, sighing. The bed dipping with his weight tells you he’s back, and JJ helps you sit up, handing you the glass.

“Thanks,” you mumble before taking several long gulps. When you’re done downing the water, you look to see JJ holding out a t-shirt for you. You chuckle and take it.

“I gotta pee real quick,” you say, routine as always.

He nods and watches as you get up from the bed, pulling on the t-shirt. It’s his, of course. Says something about Kildare County on the back: proud to be from the homeland. You make the familiar route to the bathroom of the chateau. As you go, you make sure to keep the t-shirt tugged down over your modesty. You and JJ had made a habit of you leaving the bedroom in clothes after the infamous run in with John B. Whoops.

Once done, you wash your hands and brave a glance in the mirror. The sight makes you want to laugh. Hair a mess – unruly and untamed – and some leftover mascara smudged under your lower lash line. Swollen lips, rosy cheeked, the beginnings of a love bite already forming on your neck. You want to laugh as a thought comes to your mind: you look like some common whore. Running the water and digging about in the cupboards, you wet your face and hair, finding a random comb and trying to tame some of the tangles. It’s a little better.

When you leave and head back to JJ’s self-proclaimed bedroom, he’s sat atop of the sheets of the bed, rolling a joint. Now wearing boxers, he sits lent against the headboard, one leg bent and the other extended out leisurely.

Sighing, you collapse in a heap at the foot of the bed. You feel him prod at your waist and you bat him away.

“You good?”

“Mhm.”

“How good?”

“Stop.”

“I’ll just keep asking.”

“I’m not gonna tell you you’re good in bed,” you say to the ceiling. JJ snorts.

“Why not?”

“Cause.”

“Cause?”

“Cause it’ll go to your head,” you tell him. You don’t hear a rebuttal (because he knows you’re right). You turn your head so you can watch him. He lifts the paper to his lips and licks it, sealing it shut. “Sides. I feel like it goes without saying.”

“What does?” JJ asks, now searching for his lighter in the mess that is his bedside table.

“You know what.”

The blank look JJ sends you your way tells you no, he does not. Sighing, you clarify. “The fact that I keep hooking up with you. That speaks for itself.”

When the penny finally drops, JJ’s face twists into the most cocky, proud grin you’ve ever seen, and you immediately want to take it back. You tell him this with a groan, tossing your head back, but he’s laughing and basking in the indirect comment you’ve just given him. The comment that he’s pretty God damn good in bed, to have you falling back in it so many times.

“How come you never ask if you’re any good?” JJ wonders. The flick of a lighter tells you that he found one.

“Cause I know I’m good,” you simply say. “And the fact that you keep inviting me to hook up with you also speaks for itself.”

“Can’t argue with that,” JJ mumbles.

You smell the marijuana the moment he takes a drag. Sweet and crisp and only slightly overwhelming. Leaning down with a groan, you begin to lazily search around for your shorts on the floor. Eventually, somehow, you find them, and from the pocket you dig out your cigarettes. You steal the lighter JJ had used from the quilt and light up, lying on your back once more.

“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know?”

You open one eye and look at him. Exhaling out a breath of smoke, you ask, “are you seriously telling me not to smoke whilst you smoke?”

“Cigs, I mean. Gives you cancer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the government,” you mumble, taking another drag.

“I’m serious. That shit is gonna kill you.”

You sort of smiled. Opening both eyes now, you take in JJ’s expression. You felt as if you knew him well enough to read his face. Something like concern lingered behind his relaxed demeanour. Sitting up, leaning towards him, you took another drag and exhaled it in his face.

“Well, now you’re gonna die too,” you grin.

JJ wafts it away and shakes his head at you. His smile tells you that he’s not offended. “It’s a good thing you’re hot.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” you fake gasp, hand coming to your chest.

“Wait, I thought that what’s all women were good for? Are you telling me women can do more than just be hot?” JJ plays along, gaping in mock horror.

You chuckle and break the charade. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continue to smoke, as does JJ. The floor is a mess. Piles of clothes – some yours and some his – mixed with shoes and hats and abandoned pairs of swimming trunks, probably still damp as he hadn’t hung them out to dry. Scattered around the room was empty cans and bottles. An empty box of condoms in the paper bin. As they catch your eye, a question comes to you.

“Are we exclusive?”

At first you wonder if JJ even heard you, as he doesn’t reply for a while. When you look over to see if he was off in his own thoughts, he’s watching you, as if you were the one who was supposed to answer.

“I don’t know,” he says noncommittedly.

“Okay, lemme ask it another way,” you mumble, putting out your cigarette on the windowsill ash tray. “Have you slept with anyone apart from me since we started hooking up?”

JJ looks away and out the window, as if he doesn’t want to answer. His jaw clicks tighter. You frown. Things suddenly feel tense, awkward even. It never had been that way between the two of you, not even after the first time you fooled around.

“Jayj?”

“Have you?”

When he asks, he’s looking you in the eyes again. There’s a bite to his words as if he’s proposing a challenge. But you’re not shy to talk about it.

“No,” you shrug. “No point, really.”

“No point?”

“Like, you’re not…terrible,” you eventually settle on, careful to avoid boosting his ego more than you already had that night. “And it’s easy.”

“Easy?”

“Are you gonna repeat everything I say?” you wonder sardonically, quirking a brow.

“Why’re you asking me this?”

“Just wondering,” you say, becoming uncomfortable as his tone seems to harden more and more. “Thought we should know who each other’s seeing and stuff.”

“Why? We use protection, it’s not like there’s any point,” JJ practically grumbles.

“Jesus Christ, it really isn’t that deep,” you half-laugh. You start to wish you hadn’t put out your cigarette.

“It’s not like you’re special or anything.”

And okay, ouch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re good in bed. That’s it,” JJ tells you in an even tone.

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline; waiting for this cold façade to break. It doesn’t. He holds your gaze, unfaltering.

“Seriously?” you ask, voice weaker than you want it to be.

JJ doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes one last hit of his joint before putting it out. Then he’s standing up from the bed.

“It’s late,” he says, looking around his floor. He finds a t-shirt (gives it a sniff and seems to think it’s clean enough) and pulls it on. Then he’s searching again, and you watch as he digs out your clothes, holding them out to you. It takes you a moment to catch on.

“Are you serious?”

JJ shrugs. “It’s late, is all. Not like you were gonna stay over anyway.”

Any humour is gone. You knew you weren’t going to sleep over; you’d only done that once on accident. That wasn’t what offended you. It was the way JJ had gone about it, like you were some nameless chick in his bed who he needed to sneak out before his parents came home…It made you feel dirty. It made you feel used.

Snatching the clothes from him, you get up and begin to change. JJ doesn’t watch. Instead, he kicks about things on his floor in some attempt of tidying. When you’re back in your own clothes, his t-shirt now in your hand, you make a point to toss it on the bed.

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mumble, heading to his bedroom door.

“What?”

“I said fuck you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” JJ snaps, glaring at you.

Something akin to a laugh comes from your mouth, but there’s a bitterness to your tone. “When you’re man enough to talk, lemme know.”

“Get out of my room,” JJ darkly says.

You shake your head. With a scoff, you tell him, “gladly”, and then you walk out of his room. The tears don’t come until you’re outside the house, as if the sting of the wind sobers you up to the situation.

For the eighth time, it was making up.

The house party some random Pogue had thrown was in full swing. Some Kooks had caught wind, naturally, and decided to join the festivities. For the most part, it was Pogues, with the odd, innocent tourist mixed amongst the lot. JJ liked it that way. He felt like he was amongst his people; could let his guard down more.

Kiara was sat outside on a porch swing with Pope, the two seemingly in light conversation. JJ wandered over with a beer in hand and snuck up behind the dark-haired girl. He grinned to himself as he suddenly grabbed her shoulder, shouting in her ear. She let out a yelp, swatting at him as he started laughing. Pope rolled his eyes, also a little spooked, and JJ gave a half-hearted apology through his laughs. He sat between the pair on the swing, encouraging it to rock with his heels dug into the dirt.

“How many are you on?” Pope asked, nodding down to the can.

JJ shrugged. “Who cares? It’s a party.”

“So this has nothing to do with you and your lover having trouble in paradise?” Kie wondered, voice teasing.

JJ rolled his eyes and took a swig. “She’s not my ‘lover’.”

“Hook-up?”

“Bed-pal?”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Alright, alright,” JJ groaned, waving away their synonyms. “Hilarious, guys.”

“What happened with that? I thought you two were hitting it off,” Pope said soberly.

“We were, I guess,” JJ admitted. He looked out to the garden with a sigh and then took another drink. “Doesn’t matter, though. It’s done now.”

“Done?”

“The ‘best sex you’ve ever had’ is just done?” Kie checked.

“Yep,” JJ said, flashing her what he hoped was an unbothered grin. He held up his can as if in cheers. “Use them and lose them, is what I say.”

“JJ—”

“No commitment, no sha-mittment.”

“Wise words, Aristotle,” Pope mumbled.

JJ finished his can in several large gulps and crushed it beneath his grip.

“Need a refill,” he announced. He staggered to his feet, swaying when he stood. He could see Kie’s concerned gaze from his peripheral and pointed at her - just. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’ll be sure to have the ambulance on standby,” Pope assured sarcastically, watching JJ walk away. He kindly flipped them off as he went.

“Assholes,” he muttered to himself.

The world was dragging, taking too long to catch up with him, and he struggled to find the kitchen. Had someone moved it? What the hell?

When he found himself in a hallway which he hadn’t yet been in, JJ knew he was both lost and hammered. Whoops.

“JJ?”

He spun around, blinking slowly and rapidly, all at once.

It was you, stood in a sundress, worn down with a grey zipper cardigan and trainers. You frowned at him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

“How much have you had?”

“Just a couple,” JJ said, shrugging. “What’s it to you?”

“It…isn’t,” you say, looking off.

JJ suddenly panics - scared you’re going to walk away - and he finds himself grabbing for your wrist. You make a move as if you’re going to take it from his grip, but then you don’t. He aimlessly guides you into a quieter room, where the music isn’t so blaring and the chatter of others doesn’t bounce of the walls. It happens to be a bathroom.

He locks the door and spins around, immediately feeling green.

“You okay?” you tentatively ask.

JJ nods, but that only makes it worse, and in a matter of seconds he’s darting for the toilet.

There’s something so wonderfully humiliating about throwing up.

“It’s alright,” you say, rubbing his back. He feels the weight of your hand move up and down against his damp t-shirt. JJ cringes into the toilet. So. Embarrassing.

“Sorry,” he gasps, preparing for more to come.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you mumble.

He hears you shift around and notices as you sit down, back against the wall. You’ve taken your hand from his back and instead have placed it in his hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly.

“Feel better?”

“Maybe,” he sighs. You nod and lift your arm to flush the toilet.

After a few more bouts of vomit, JJ’s sure there’s nothing left. He leans his cheek against the seat of the toilet, the porcelain cold on his skin, and watches as you get up and head to the sink. You find an abandoned solo cup and rinse it out, filling it with water and offering it to him.

“Here,” you say. He drinks.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to help.”

“Sure I did. If you died, I would’ve been the last person to see you alive,” you tell him, making him laugh.

“Nice to know your heart’s in the right place.”

“You don’t sound so drunk now,” you say.

“Thanks,” he repeats, less grateful.

He sighs and sits up, leaning against the bathroom wall. The room’s spinning less. His ears aren’t rining as badly. There are the remnants of booze blurring the lines between what he wants to say and what he doesn’t.

Someone tries the door and you yell at them to leave. JJ’s never heard you yell before. It sounds unnatural.

“I’m sorry for the other night.”

His eyes shoot open.

Looking to you, wondering if he misheard, he finds you’re already watching him. You’re fiddling with your knuckles, picking at some scabbing, probably the aftermath of training. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you box. You’ve always had an edge to you but picturing you fighting someone…The thought was sexy as hell, he was unashamed to admit.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, as if worried he hadn’t heard, and he comes back to reality.

“About what?”

“About the other night. About asking if we’re exclusive. Like you even owe me that sort of explanation,” you say. “We had a good thing going. It worked for both of us, and I messed it up.”

JJ doesn’t say anything. You sigh, taking his silence as space to continue, and you look down to watch your handiwork as you go on.

“I’m not great at relationships. I mean, I don’t think I am. Every single one that I’ve been in ends up in flames, so…Not the best track record.”

JJ watches as you sigh again, tossing your head back to stare at the ceiling. Your throat is empty of love bites and it looks foreign.

“I try my best in them. Try to be the good girlfriend. Fun and unassuming and pretty and funny. Present and thoughtful. I think I’m doing a good job, and then…Boom. Another one in the shitter. Guess I’m just the common denominator.”

“Denominator?”

“I’m the common thread,” you clarify, looking to him again. You shrug. “But, all cards on the table, I felt like I didn’t have to try with you. I never felt like I was needing to put on a show or think about things as much. Maybe it was because we were only hooking up, but there was never any pressure to be the better version of me. Maybe there is no better version of me. Maybe I just…am.”

JJ stares at you for a minute and you seem to hear back what you’ve said, cause then you’re cupping your face and laughing, embarrassed.

“God, that was so cringey,” you chuckle beratingly. “I promise I’m not high.”

“It wasn’t cringey,” JJ tells you.

Your laughter dies down. You don’t make a move to remove your face from your hands, though. It’s easier for JJ that way, to tell you the truth without having you watch him. If you can lay all your cards out, then so can he. Thank God for vodka, he thinks.

“My mum and dad weren’t the best role models,” JJ admits, clearing his throat. It feels raw after throwing up. “She dipped and my dad’s…a mess. It’s a lot and I won’t bore you with it all but…I just don’t do well with relationships. I barely do well with friendships. Half the time I wonder why my friends hang around with me, and the other half I spend wondering when they’re gonna leave. When they’re gonna realise that I’m nothing special, or important.”

“JJ,” you whisper, going to lift your head. JJ panics and dumbly shoves your face back into your palms. You let out a bark of laughter, and then start nodding as if in understanding. “Okay. Go on.”

JJ takes a breath, removing his hand from your hair.

“I hook-up with people cause it’s easy and there’s no strings and all that crap, and it makes me feel good. But you’re different to the other people I’ve slept with. You’re funny and witty and would say these really nice things out of the blue. You’d do nice things, too. Like when you made me mac and cheese one time after we’d fooled around cause I said I’d been craving it for days. Nobody’s ever really done anything like that for me. I wasn’t sure how to react.”

Here it comes – crawling up his throat. The thing he was terrified to admit. The thing he was so scared to tell you, that he threw whatever thing you had going down the drain, and then apparently let you believe that it was you that steered them off the road.

“We were exclusive. I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else when I was with you.”

JJ doesn’t give you time to react or respond. The words are falling out of him now.

“I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want you to leave, and it freaked me out cause I’ve never felt like that with a girl before. All my God damn thoughts were about you, like I was brainwashed. Fuck – they still are! It’s like I wake up and think about it. Think about what you’re doing and where you are. Think about getting you off. Think about how you looked when I told you to leave. How fucking scummy that was of me.

But I got scared. I got scared when you asked me cause it meant we’d have to actually acknowledge that there was something more there, and that things would change, and that terrifies the shit out of me because when things change, it’s usually for the worst. You’d see the real me and my life and learn about all my shit, and you’ll see that I’m nothing good. And I just start thinking about when it’s gonna end. How I’m gonna mess it up, cause I always do.”

He catches his breath. The words hang heavy in the air. JJ stares at you. You still have your face in your hands.

He leans back against the wall and looks down at his fingers, twisting some of his rings. He slowly lets out a breath, pressing his eyes shut.

“Sorry. That was a lot.”

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Can I look up now?”

JJ can’t help but laugh. Looking to you, he quietly tells you, “Yes, you can look up now.”

When you do, JJ immediately spots the tears on your cheeks. His heart clenches. It’s a new feeling. Strange and unpleasant, though not for the reasons he thought it would be.

“Not everyone leaves, JJ,” you say, wiping your face.

He shrugs.

“I mean it,” you affirm. He sees when an idea comes to mind, your beautiful face lighting up. “There’s this song I like. I guess it’s spoken poetry. It’s called Sunscreen. In the song, the guy says something. He says, ‘accept that some friends will come and go, but hold on to a precious few.’”

JJ frowns, unsure where you’re heading.

“And whilst I agree that you yourself have to hold on, there’s also the other person holding on for you. Sticking their feet in and telling you that they’re not gonna leave when things get just a bit tough. I mean, I feel like you and John B have been friends for ages. One of the pictures in the chateau is of you guys really young.”

“Since the third grade,” JJ quietly says.

Smiling back, you take a breath then say, “I can’t promise you that everyone’ll stay, but I can promise you that I want to. I want to stay, with you. I want to know all the ugly things and I want you to know the ugly things about me. Nobody’s whole and nobody’s perfect, and everybody’s shit scared of opening themselves up because the moment you do, you can get hurt. But sometimes to live, I think you’ve gotta get a bit hurt. So, I want to stay, but only if you want to me to.”

JJ slowly began to smile.

He did. He wanted you to stay. He wanted you to meet his friends and to watch him surf. He wanted to have you stay over and have the balls to be there when you woke up. He wanted to see you in the morning, eating breakfast, and after sex, spent and tired. He wanted to watch you train and box, and cheer you on and kiss the bruises. He wanted to know the things you hid about yourself, and the things that made you somehow imperfect. He wanted your smile and your dumb jokes and the way you like to have the control, the way you fight him for it. He wanted the way you made him feel and the reassurance just your company brought, that somebody wanted him too.

JJ wanted you.

“I want you to stay,” he said. He swallowed and smiled, properly. “I want you to stay with me.”

Your face glowed with your smile. Crinkles by your eyes and a slight girlish giddiness as you quietly laugh down at your hands, bashful all of a sudden. Bashful like you didn’t know that his dying wish was to be baptised in your spit. Like you didn’t get off on being on top; of having him weak under your spell.

“If I hadn’t just thrown up, I’d fuck you right now, right here,” JJ says.

You bark out a laugh, tossing your head back before smiling at him. “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna toss me out on the streets after like a hooker?” you risk in a joke.

JJ rolls his eyes and tries to shove away the shame he feels for doing that. He knows it’s in the past now. Can tell by the way you bite your lip through your smile.

“Shut up.”

“Wow. Incredible come back,” you push. He laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m serious. Shut up.”

“Make me.”

The look in your eye becomes almost dark. There’s a quirk to your smile that makes his stomach clench and shrink. He gnaws on his lip. Somehow dragging his eyes from yours, he looks to the bathroom sink and cupboard. He forces himself to his feet and tugs it open, looking around for something – anything – that’ll get rid of the vomit taste stuck on his tongue. A toothbrush. Fuck yes. Maybe God doesn’t hate him after all. When you catch on to what he’s doing, you start to laugh. He quickly brushes his teeth and tongue, rinsing out his mouth.

“Seriously? Guys and their dicks, Jesus.”

“Shut up,” he gurgles, pointing at you with the brush. You laugh harder and JJ can’t help but smile. The best goddamn laugh.

Spitting out, he wipes his mouth, tosses the toothbrush to the side, grabs your hands and tugs you up to your feet. His lips are on yours in a second, clumsy and frantic, and your laughter doesn’t die off immediately. It does when he picks you up, lifting you onto the sink. You gasp against his mouth, somewhat caught off guard. Hands wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, JJ feels as you wrap his legs around his waist and tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling back. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavy. You open your eyes slowly and smile, sweet. You’re so sweet. “I missed this.”

“Damn right you did,” you smirk.

There you are.

As you start making out again, there’s something deeper at play. His hands move to your thighs, working up your sundress, and your fingers tug at his hair in the most delicious way. He groans against you. He’s hard and desperate and horny and still somehow a little tipsy. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything about this is just…

“You gonna eat me out or what?”

The words, whispered right down his ear…JJ’s surprised he doesn’t come on the spot. Somehow, he finds his control, enough so to reply, “didn’t anybody teach you manners, princess?”

When you kiss, it’s teeth and tongue, and dirty and messy, and fucking delectable. JJ begins down your neck, over your chest, finding enough space on your collar bone to suck a love bite. It was driving him crazy, seeing your skin unmarked. You shrug off your cardigan and lean back a little, hands scrambling to not slip on the damp sink’s porcelain. You watch him as he makes his way to his knees, shoving up your skirt, and lift yourself off the edge of the sink enough for him to slide your panties down your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him in a pant.

JJ’s eyes glance up to meet yours. Sees the way your teeth are sunk into your lower lip, a small smile adorning your flushed face. The beginnings of a love bite forming already. It’s the feeling of one of your feet digging into his shoulder blade, urging him to you, that spurs him on.

He takes his time eating you out. Savours the moans and bathes in your whimpers. The sinful sweetness of you on his tongue. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs, trying to find some self-control. They’ll probably bruise. It’s a nice thought. It’s ephemeral, over too soon; you come with a near-silent moan, ankles locking around him, holding him against you. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“JJ,” you sigh, sounding desperate. He feels you shift and falls back on his haunches, wiping at his face. Licking his lips. Closing his eyes, he tries to level himself. He has to make it last, at least just a little longer.

The feeling of your hand prying at his shirt has him coming back to reality. JJ looks up at you, panting a little, and smiles lazily at the fucked-out look on your face. He helps you pull him to his feet, kissing you the moment he’s standing above you, smirking as he hears you moan from your own taste. You’re fucking filthy. And it’s only for him. The thought makes him desperate to fuck you.

It seems your mind is on the same track because your fingers start fumbling with his short’s zipper. He pulls away to help you tug them off, dragging his boxers with them.

“You got anything?” you ask, voice no more than a breath.

JJ scrambles through his thoughts and nods, shoving a hand through his damp hair and grabbing for his wallet; digging about with shaking hands, retrieving a condom. You take it from him and open it - giggling in a way that’s too sweet for the salaciousness of the moment - and put it on him, rubbing for longer than you need to. Somehow, he forces your hand from him.

“Can’t do that or I’m not gonna last,” he breathlessly chuckles before pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your arms loop back around his neck, tongue slipping into his mouth, and JJ’s hands slip under your legs and pull you to sit on the very edge of the sink.

The moment he sinks into you, both of you sigh against one another, body’s singing as if in reverence. The sex is rough and rushed and rapturous. Your head rests on his shoulder and your moans fall straight into his ear, as if coming straight from God’s mouth.

And once again, it’s all over too soon. You finish first, JJ soon after, gasping against your shoulder, damp and clammy with sweat. As he fucks you both through it, slowly coming to a stop, your fingers thread gently through his hair, rubbing soothingly at his scalp. He rests in you for a while. The two of you slowly catch your breath, arms tangled around one another, a head on the other’s shoulder.

You’re the first to move, and you do so only enough to kiss him. Tender now. Almost loving. JJ sighs into it, stroking your back gently. The thought of having you near again…It’s almost like he has air back in his lungs. It’s a strange feeling, a bizarre and new one, but JJ’s no longer scared of it like he was before. How can he be when you’re right there with him?

Breaking apart, your foreheads rest against one another, and JJ braves opening his eyes. You’re already looking at him. The two of you smile at the same time, and you begin to laugh.

“Not bad, huh?”

JJ grins.

“Best you’ve ever had?”

“Oh shut up.”

2K notes · View notes

readingismyhappyplacee · 2 years ago

Text

JJ Put that Gun Away.

Summary: Summertime is full of fishing, fooling around and Keggers. NOT guns and stealing. What could go wrong? (Fanfic for OBX S1: Ep.1).

JJ Maybank x Reader Fanfic

Warnings: Use and mention of guns, swearing, mentions of drowning.

ALL RIGHTS to Josh and Jonas Pate and Shannon Burke for characters, plot and dialogue, etc. In some cases, scenes and dialouge altered to fit my own ideas.

Y/N could hear the hooting and hollering of her friends from a mile away. The familiar brown Volkswagen van deemed “The Twinkie” howling along with the sound of their voices could be heard as it rounded the corner at the end of the street. Y/N smiled as she could see JJ’s head poking out of the side door, looking right at her.

“You’re going to have to jump in while it’s moving M’Lady! This vessel stops for no one!” JJ yelled at the girl in a funny voice. “Just bend your knees!”

“Uhh, actually JJ, this is our next stop. Did you forget she brought the drinks?” John B’s voice could be heard as the van screeched to a halt in front of her.

“Right.”

JJ and John B hopped out to grab the cooler full of drinks and food Y/N so kindly put together for todays venture. They loaded it into the already stuffed van. Y/N hopped in afterwards.

Soon enough the trio arrived at John B’s place. Unfortunately about nine months ago, John B’s father was lost at sea looking for a shipwreck and presumed dead shortly after. His mother and uncle are in other states, not even close to coming to the Cut. He’s been living by himself ever since and refuses to believe his father is dead until he finds his body. So now, the Château, as it’s called, is the base of operations. Free reign to do whatever a Pogue wants, whenever they want.

JJ on the other hand, doesn’t have much luck either. The blonde has an abusive dad and no other family to support him. He’s finding it hard to get by with a minimum wage job and daddy issues. It’s amazing how tough he is, but Y/N understands that he has to be to get through day by day. The girl helps out when she can by offering her cleaning services, picking up the many beer cans and cigarettes in the house when Jake isn’t there and offering as much food to the boys as she can without her parents finding out. Luckily though, they all have each other and that’s the best thing they could ask for.

Down at the dock, the boys load the cooler onto the boat and JJ offers Y/N a hand stepping in.

“M’Lady.” He bows, taking off his hat and putting it back on again.

A blush dances across her face, though it is unbeknownst to JJ, so she laughs to hide the truth of her feelings towards the boy. It was a rule the group had. No Pogue on Pogue macking. No matter how strong the feelings were. If it was true love or even soulmates, it was strictly forbidden. And even if it wasn’t a rule, she had no chance. JJ was hooking up with a new girl at every party and Kegger hosted lately. It was like he couldn’t get enough. So when he was flirty like that, there was no genuine meaning behind it. It was just JJ being JJ.

Hurricane Agatha had just blown over the Outer Banks, rocking the south side to shambles. As the three friends set off, more and more damage could be seen along the shoreline. Boats, docks, houses, fences - you name it. Every hurricane made the Cut look better yesterday.

The boat approached the marina which was jostling with people on clean-up duty. At least it was bright and sunny today to put people in better moods than before.

“Hi, Miss Amy, you guys make it through?” John B waves at a woman and her husband.

“We’re still here!” She replied back.

JJ wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

“She totally looked at me,” He said.

“Pfft. As if JJ. She wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole.” Y/N scoffed.��JJ feigned hurt.

“Ouch! Watch yourself Y/N, or I’m pushing you in!”

The mess Agatha made was unimaginable. As if reading her thoughts JJ whistled out loud, “Agatha what did you do?”

Pope, another member of the group could be seen filling a bucket with water at the end of his dock. He got stuck with clean-up too. Pope was the smartest of them all. The kid had a full ride scholarship to one of the state’s most prestigious schools. It was unknown why he chose to hang out with such a group of troubled teenagers. He was always so cautious and tense, like his dad was watching. I mean, Heyward was always watching.

“Well, look who we have here.” John B mimics a radio. “We have a mandatory safety meeting, over.”

Pope stops what he’s doing, looking annoyed. John B slows the boat down.

“I can’t. My pop’s got me on lockdown.”

“You’re dad’s a pussy, over.” That time it was JJ.

“Oh, I heard that one you little bastard!”

Heyward. Pope’s father. Not the most approving of his son’s friends but he does his best to understand. Thankfully, Y/N’s parents are good friends with his family. “Hey Y/N, keeping these idiots in line?”

“I try to. It only works if they listen.” She smiles.

“We need your son.” John B interrupts.

“Yeah. And island rules: Day after a hurricane is a free day.” JJ adds.

“Now who in the hell made that up, son?”

“Uhhh… The pentagon I think? We have security clearance. I have a card.”

“Do you really think I’m stupid. Do they think i’m stupid?” Heyward looks at his son.

“I’ll do it tomorrow dad, I promise. I’ll help clean tomorrow.” Pope and his dad bicker back and forth and he slowly creeps towards the boat. Once Pope’s feet hit the deck John B accelerates forward.

“I promise i’ll do it tomorrow!”

“We’ll bring him back in one piece!” Y/N yells back.

All that could be heard is the cursing of Heyward and the gentle splash of the water against the boat towards the neck stop, Kiara. Kiara was Y/N’s best friend. Though she was born a Kook, she was a Pogue more than anything. Rich parents, fancy house and all the nicest clothes. She had all the best things. If she wasn’t with the friend group, she was out saving turtles or promoting some paper-straw activist type things online. Y/N was jealous that she seemed to always catch the attention of boys her age. Maybe she was prettier? More outgoing and funnier? Y/N thought she was enough to fit in, but sometimes it felt like Kie was always in the spotlight, for every boy. She didn’t dare tell her this of course, nothing good would come out of it. They are supposed to be best friends.

Kiara walked down the ramp. JJ greeted her in an Irish accent. He also held her hand as she got in. Y/N tried her best to conceal her face so she looked into her lap.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kiara greeted, forcing Y/N to look up.

“Hey, Kie, how you holding up?”

“Oh ya know, hurricane lockdown things.” They both laughed. That was another reason she couldn’t hate her. She always greeted her first and made her feel included in every conversation. She couldn’t hate her even if she tried.

John B picked up the speed of the boat as they headed out into the marsh. They cracked open some beer and for what seemed like the thousandth time, JJ tried out his “party trick.”

“JJ, you know it never works.”

“Ah! You’re getting beer in my hair!”

Suddenly the boat came to a halt, sending JJ flying off the bow and into the water. Kiara and John B are sent to the deck from their seats.Y/N is halfway off the bow clinging for dear life after just standing up to get JJ to come down. Pope’s abdomen slams against the steering wheel. Groans from each teen are let out respectively.

“Jesus Pope.” Kiara blurts out what everyone is thinking.

JJ resurfaces with a loud gasp for air.

“I think my heels touched my head.” He moaned.

Y/N groans again sitting up and clutching her chest.

“Aw man that’s definitely gonna bruise.”

“I hit a sandbar. The channel changed. Sorry guys.” Pope felt bad. He steps up onto the bow to get a better look at where to navigate. His expression turns to shock.

“Guys! I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Yeah right!”

“No, no. For real, I’m not kidding.”

JJ swims over to get a better look while the rest of the gang almost tip the boat, looking in the direction of where Pope was pointing.

“Shit let’s go!”

Y/N peels off her jean shorts and tank top before diving into the water to join JJ. The rest follow suit. With one huge breath, Y/N submerged herself underwater with the rest of her friends. Even in the murkiness of the water, an unmistakable outline of a Grady White is seen. Whoever’s boat this was they are probably looking for it, that is, if they’re even still alive. Y/N swims inside, a powerful swimmer and certified diver, she looks for any signs of who this boat belongs to. Nothing.

The friends resurface. Gasping for air but in obvious excitement about the discovery.

“That’s a Grady White!” JJ exclaims. “A new one of those is like five hundred grand. Easy.”

They all laugh, climbing back onto the boat.

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge!”

John B suddenly remembers.

“You surfed the surge?” Y/N and Kiara ask together. “Jinx.”

“That’s my boy! Pogue style!” JJ high fives his best friend.

“Seriously John B that’s dangerous! “ Y/N exclaims. “What the heck!”

“Wait, guys, do we know whose boat that is?”

“I tried to get a good look, but it’s too deep.” Y/N said. “Give me the anchor.”

John B rummages through a compartment in the deck, handing Y/N the anchor.

“Payback !” JJ screams, pushing the girl into the water.

She shrieks as she plummets into the water.

“JJ that wasn’t nice!” Kiara scolds.

“Hey, she asked for it earlier.” He shrugs it off.

Y/N swims the path towards the boat, attempting to get a better look at anything more than she already saw. She spots a key dangling from a pole near the steering wheel, but struggles to get it unhooked.

Meanwhile, the four friends stand worried. “She’s been down there a while man, should I go get her? JJ asks.

“Nah she’s got this. Believe in her.”

JJ frowned, worry evident on his face. Pope noticed.

“You like her!”

“What- no! I don’t like anyone, especially not her! Remember rule number one?”

“Liar!”

“I’ve been waiting for someone to bring that up! Finally!” Kiara chimed.

“We’re just friends okay guys? Nothing more. Now shut up.”

“Jeez JJ you’re blushing so hard it looks like you have a sunburn!” John B teased.

“I said shut up!”

JJ couldn’t be more thankful Y/N was underwater right now, even if she may be drowning. It’s true he may have a bit of a crush on her, but he knew the rules. Instead, he uses other girls as distractions from the fact.

The sound of the topic-of-conversation girl breaking the surface brought JJ back to real life.

“I found a key!” She managed to say between breaths.

JJ and his friends breath sighs of relief. No CPR was needed. He went to the edge of the boat, effortlessly pulling her up towards him. She lost her balance slightly but he grabbed her waist to steady her. The action did not go unnoticed by the rest. JJ quickly jumped backwards like he stepped in a fire. Y/N shot him a puzzled glance but said nothing.

“I think it’s a motel key.” She said, drying herself off with a towel.

“Great. A damn key. “ JJ scowled. He was hoping for anything worth some cash.

“Guys I think we should report this to the coast guard, maybe get a finders fee?” Kiara pointed out.

“Yeah, then we don’t have to work all summer.”

The crew headed back into town to go report the wreck. The sun was beginning to set ever so slowly and the warm glow illuminated Y/N’s face as she stared off into the horizon.

“What’s on your mind, sunshine?” JJ sat next to her for the first time after his awkward moment.

Y/N was surprised he called her a nickname she’s never heard of.

“I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I think it suits you.”

“Thanks JJ.”

The girl avoided the question, not wanting to tell him he was the one on her mind all of the time. She waited in the HMS Pogue while the others attempted to talk to someone about finding the sunken boat. With the recent hurricane and the damage it created, many people were lined up with complaints. Her friends came back quickly with another plan.

“The motel? Are you crazy?” Pope said.

“I call lookout.” Y/N said.

“Me and JJ will check it out.” John B suggested.

When the group arrived at the motel, it appeared very run down, and not just by the hurricane.

“This isn’t exactly 5 stars.”

“Yeah, it looks like a place someone with a Grady White would get killed.” Pope shuddered.

JJ and John B jumped to shore. Not wanting to draw attention to the rest do the group, the trio left pretended to be hanging out and talking.

“Be careful.” Kiara spoke softly to John B.

Last Y/N heard was something about a mattress.

“Be sooooooo careful John B.” JJ teased as they searched for the matching room number.

“Ever since she heard you were on exile she’s told you to be careful. Oh, give me that John D already. Why don’t you hop on that man?”

John B scoffed.

“You know the rules. No Pogue on Pogue macking. And don’t get me started on you and Y/N.”

“I don’t like her I told you this already.”

“Like hell you don’t dude. You’re always looking at her.”

JJ glared at his best friend. He licked his lips.

“Okay, c’mon man of course I’m looking at her, she’s hot. Can we forget about the rules?”

John B stopped in front of room 229 and stayed silent, fumbling with the keys.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You need help. Like, serious help.”

“Still a yes! Housekeeping!” JJ said in a high-pitched voice. With no response, the boys entered the room.

Down below, the trio on the boat were having a similar conversation.

“Do you have a thing for John B?” Y/N asked her best friend.

Pope looked away from the motel to look at Kiara’s facial expression, amused by Y/N’s blunt question. Kiara rolled her eyes and stood up.

“I don’t. I’m just worried about him. The whole foster thing must really suck.”

“And you’re not just worried about him in a different way?” Y/N suggested, grinning.

“Oh my god stop it! I don’t! And how about JJ, everyone knows-“

“Guys, cops! Cops!” Pope interrupted.

In the small parking lot full of debris, the sheriff’s pickup truck could be seen pulling in and stopping. Y/N groaned.

“Why does my dad have to ruin everything!”

Deputy Shoupe and Deputy Plumb exit the car and talk with a man nearby. They start pointing to the second level of the motel, exactly where JJ and John B were.

“We have to warn them.” Kiara said. She jumps off the boat and books it to the side of the motel. Pope and Y/N exchange glances before following, trying not to be seen by Y/N’s police officer father. Staring up at the window, the stress begins to set in.

“Okay stand back.” Pope said, picking up a rock. He looked up at the window and threw it. The rock barely made it halfway up before gravity brought it back down again.

“Didn’t you ever play baseball?” Kiara pegged.

Y/N laughed.

“I was on the math team!” He whisper-yelled back.

Kiara also tried to throw a rock but missed. She tried it again and it made a loud ‘tink’ sound against the glass. Y/N picked up one and it did the same. JJ and John B’s faces could be seen through the blinds almost instantly.

“Cops! There’s Cops! Cops!” The friends on the ground simultaneously whispered and pointed at the entrance to the room. The boys could be seen scrambling in the room. The three friends sprinted to the boat, ready to leave at any second.

“Should we peel?” Kiara asked.

“No! Never leave a Pogue behind.” Pope said.

“Guys look! They’re on the awning!” Y/N pointed.

JJ and John B were in fact on the small ledge of the awning on either sides of the window. Their positions looking very uncomfortable. JJ laughed silently while John B used his pointer finger to tell the rest of the group to be quiet.

The boys were up there for a while until suddenly something fell out of JJ’s pocket, hit the awning and fell to the ground a few feet down. John B visibly cringed. The blinds to the window retracted and Shoupe’s figure looked outside. Pope, Y/N and Kiara quickly attempted to look away and act like they weren’t involved.

“This is gonna be tough to explain later.” Y/N sighed.

Theslamming of a door caught their attention as the officers began to leave. Shoupe handed a duffel bag to the other officer. Before leaving, Shoupe came towards the boat. Y/N glanced at her friends’ position at the window, then back at her dad before he noticed her staring.

“Hey, sweet pea, what are y’all doing here?” He looked between the three of them.

“Uhhh.. Hey Dad I didn’t see you here!”

“My aunt was visiting and staying here. We just came to check on her. We were just about to leave.” Pope interjected.

“Yeah, Dad. We wanted to make sure she was okay. What are you doing here?”

“Ah, someone reported missing. Just like after every hurricane. Doing my part to make sure there’s no dead bodies around.” He chuckled like what he said was normal. It was obvious where Y/N’s bluntness came from. Y/N awkwardly laughed, hoping to speed this conversation up.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nah. Just an empty motel room.”

“Cool.”

“I have to go. See you later honey. Stay out of trouble kids!” Shoupe saluted and walked back to the truck. JJ and John B made their way down after a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear.

“Holy shit, man. That was crazy!” JJ exclaimed., jumping into the boat with John B on his tail. Pope pulled away from shore and back out towards the exit.

“Why did he lie about taken things from the room?” Y/N asked. No one was sure.

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asked the boys, changing the subject.

“Did we find anything?” JJ repeated. He pulled out a stack of money and a gun. The biggest grin was on his face. Y/N moved away from him.

“Are you insane?” She yelled.

“I’m going to lose my scholarship.” Pope moaned.

“It’s better than the cops having it!” JJ reasoned.

“No it’s not, dude! Anyone else that’s not you is better.”

JJ grabbed Pope and put the barrel to his mouth in a “shush” motion. Pope pushed him off.

“I’m living a nightmare.”

The group found their way back to the marina. As they were offloading there was a commotion with another large boat. Paramedics and the police were surrounding a man that looked to be dead. A dead body. As they were wheeling the body away from the boat, a woman ran frantically towards it.

“Scooter! Scooter!” She yelled. She clung to the man, caressing his face and assessing his condition. She broke down into tears. It was Lana Grubbs.

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked her friends.

“That’s Scooter Grubbs.” A random girl next to them chimed in. “He was out during the storm. Check out this pic I got. Dead body.” She bragged. She pulled out her phone and began to show a close up picture of the man being wheeled away in front of them. Y/N shuddered. Was that who her dad was looking for?

“What type of boat did he have?” JJ asked the girl.

“Somehow that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady White.”

The friends glanced between each other silently. Y/N looked at JJ and found that he was already looking at her. She gave him a look asking for more information but he just shrugged.

“Everyone’s out looking for it.” She added.

Back at the Chateau, Pope was telling everyone to keep their mouths shut about the situation. His panicked look on his face was enough to let everyone know he was terrified.

“We all have complete and total amnesia, okay?”

“For once I agree with you Pope. Deny, deny, deny.” JJ said.

“We can’t keep that money,” Kiara said. “It’s bad karma.”

“She’s right you know, it doesn’t belong to us. It belongs to Lana Grubbs,” Y/N added.

“Not everyone can afford unlimited data plans, ladies.” They rolled their eyes.

“Look, JJ I’ll help you out a little more this week if we just return the money.” Y/N’s tone softened, trying to reason with the blonde. He looked at her, silently adoring how she worried about him.

“Let’s go dark.” Pope said.

“If it means I get to keep the money, I’m in.”

John B finally spoke up.

“I don’t agree.” He said. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that buys individual cigarettes. Shit, one time I saw him begging for change in front of the Save-a-lot because he needed gas! This guy has never had more than forty bucks in his pocket and all of a sudden he’s got a Grady White? Just saying.”

“I need a break from you guys.” Pope moaned, standing up to walk to the dock.

“Look, Pope, how does a guy like Scooter get a Grady White?”

“Prostitution?”

“Square groupers bro. Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance, they don’t do that stuff during a hurricane.” John B reasoned. “What does that mean, JJ?”

“They were straight smugglin’.” He grinned.

“I’m guessing there’s a crap ton of contraband on that boat.” Y/N added.

“Okay so if there was that kind of stuff on board, and it belongs to someone, they’re going to come looking for it, right? So taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“You’re right.” JJ said. “But stupid things have good outcomes all the time. All we need to do is find a way to get into that cargo hold of that wreck and then lay low.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Pope asked.

“Kegger?” Kiara proposed.

Y/N had went over to Kiara’s house to steal an outfit for the night.

“Red or pink?” She asked Kiara.

“Red. JJ won’t stop staring at you if you don’t.”

“C’mon Kie, stop teasing. You and me both know he doesn’t like me like that. Look at all the women he hooks up with. You don’t see me on the list.”

“Fine! Don’t listen to me! But open your eyes girl!”

Y/N was mad that Kie was playing with her feelings. She knew that JJ would never think of her like that. Was she not telling her something?

“I’m a police officer’s daughter Kie, no guy wants to talk to me.”

Within an hour, the group had gathered all the materials for the Kegger and met at the Boneyard. Y/N spotted JJ up ahead. His blonde hair unmistakably glistening in the sunset glow. She wondered if he would talk to her tonight or take off with another new girl. Once down to the sand, the keg was set up and ready to go. John B started filling up cups of beer for everyone. Soon, a crowd started to form. The boneyard was a mix of three crowds, the Pogues, the Kooks and the Tourons. The Tourons are just kids here on vacation with their families for the summer. As the night progressed, Y/N found her place with a group of Pogues she knows from school. The group was laughing around a fire, retelling a story about how a teacher was caught making out with a student after class. The principal found them and he was fired right away. The kid only got a 3 day suspension. Y/N felt someone sit next to her. She looked to her left. A boy around her age with curly brown hair and a lanky stature smiled at her. A Touron.

“Hi. I’m Dean.” He greeted. “I’m not from here and you look pretty friendly enough to talk to.”

This made Y/N laugh.

“Why thank you. I’m Y/N. Welcome to the island.”

She shook hands with the boy jokingly. She could feel the effects of the alcohol she was drinking starting to flow through her body.

“Another beer?” Someone with a keg asked.

Y/N accepted the beer with a grateful smile then turned back to Dean.

“So, new guy, where you from?”

“San Fran. I’m a long way from home.” He smiled. “My moms friend recommended it here, but too bad there was a hurricane. Cut our holiday in half. We head back in a few days.”

“Ah, big city guy. I could tell, you all have the same vibe.” She teased.

“Hey! I’m officially offended.”

She laughed. “Sorry about Agatha though, really, she was a real pain in the ass.” The two continued to talk about random things. Y/N thought that he was a nice boy to talk to, but he wasn’t JJ.

“See, those are my best friends over there.” She pointed out Kiara and John B. Then a little ways over at Pope. She couldn’t find JJ. “We do everything together.” Y/N was five drinks in. Maybe six. She lost count. Not once did this boy try to make a move on her. At first she was thankful because it is always awkward trying to tell them no, but at the same time her heart sunk because it’s always been that way. There was no way he knew she was the daughter of a cop. He doesn’t live here.

“So, Y/N do you have a boyfr-“ Dean’s sentence was cut off when Y/N suddenly stood up to the the sound of JJ’s voice. He sounded like he was in an argument.

“You’re so funny man!” She heard him yell.

Over to the right of where she sat she could see Sarah Cameron and her no-good boyfriend Topper, along with the rest of her friends. JJ did not look happy. None of them did.

“Sorry. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to check up on my friends. They seem a little drunk.”

As she approached the commotion, Topper called them “dirty Pogues.” That term set John B off. He forcefully shoved Topper backwards, causing him to stumble. Topper looked shocked and then lunged forward and threw a punch so hard at John B’s face that it looked like it would knock his teeth out. John B fell against the sand, unable to stand up.

“Babe! Babe!” Sarah attempted to stop her boyfriend from causing any harm, but it was no use,Topper hated Pogues. Topper continued to kick John B until he reached the edge of the water.

“Hey John B, don’t make me do what happened to your old man, all right?”

The crowd around began to chant for them to fight.

“Stop!” Y/N screamed at them, rushing in. JJ held her back, shaking his head no. If it wasn’t for the situation it would’ve felt like a hug.

“Guys stop!” Kiara hissed at Topper and John B.

John B mustered up enough to stand again and used his momentum to tackle Topper into the shallow tide. Both attackers now soaked from the cool water.

“Let him go John B!” Pope yelled.

They continued to throw punches at the others abdomen and back. John B was able to land a few good hits.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” JJ cheered.

Topper and John B continued to trade hits. Unfortunately, Topper was able to gain the upper hand and slam John B into the water face first. He then got on top of him.

Sarah and Kiara began to scream. JJ had never looked so frightened in his life for his best friend.

“JJ do something!” Y/N screamed at him. JJ looked torn. He ran towards Topper and John B and pulled out the gun.

“No JJ!” Y/N called after him, terrified.

JJ rested it on the crown of Toppers head after he cocked it.

“Yeah, you know what that is. Let him go.”

The crowd of people started screaming and dispersed ridiculously fast after spotting the gun.

“JJ put the gun down!” Y/N tried again.

“Okay, okay we’re good man!” The anxiety in Topper’s voice was evident. He rose with his hands in the air.

“Everyone listen up! Get the hell off my side of the island!” JJ screamed at the top of his lungs. He rose the gun in the air and shot it twice to prove that he was in control. Sarah and Topper ran off. Y/N covered her ears. She was terrified of guns after her mother was shot on duty when she was a thirteen. Y/N had never been told the full story but the tale left it’s mark. Mrs. Shoupe has since retired from being a police officer and chose to write books instead. A very drastic career change.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled at her. “Let’s leave!”

Dean was standing alone in the middle of the sand. He had waited for her to make sure she was okay, not knowing that JJ was her friend since she couldn’t find him when she was pointing them all out earlier.

“Who the fuck are you!” JJ pointed the gun at Dean. Dean put his hands in the air to show his surrender.

“Woah, woah man! I come in peace! Please!”

“JJ stop!” Y/N screamed.

“I said, who the fuck are you?!”

“I’m just here visiting the island! My name is Dean!”

JJ looked at Y/N, but put the gun down, finger still on the trigger. Dean visibly sighed of relief.

“How do you know him?”

“I-I met him earlier at the fire. JJ you’re scaring me with that please you know I hate them.” In the heat of the moment, JJ has totally forgotten your fear of guns. His demeanour changed completely. He put the gun back in his pocket and threw his hands on his forehead in frustration. Y/N huffed at his behaviour. She saw a different side of JJ tonight. One that she was not used to. He scared her and their friends and she just needed to go home. It’s been a long night. She looked her friends in the eye.

“Get some sleep guys, and make sure John B is alive.” She gestured to the boy who was halfway in the water. She gave on last glance to JJ before turning back up the trail with Dean right behind her. She burst into tears. Her crying heard by JJ as he watched her figure until she disappeared into the darkness. Y/N had hoped he would have at least apologized.

After last night Y/N woke up feeling anxious and upset. The image of JJ holding a gun haunted her memory. She knew it wouldn’t just go away. She remembered Dean walking her home and asked for her number before he left to go back to his hotel. She politely declined saying a mere ‘it’s complicated.’ He understood and said he was glad she was safe. He gave her his just in case she changed her mind. A text on her phone rung softly on the bedside table. She picked it up and a short text from Kiara read:

‘Hey I know after last night you don’t want to see JJ, but we need someone that knows how to dive. We’re searching that boat today and you’re the only one that knows how to properly dive and has the equipment. You in?’

‘Will he promise to get rid of the gun?’

‘No promises :(‘

Y/N groaned in her bed. Typical JJ. A knock on her door perked her up. Her father walks in, wearing his uniform.

“Hey sweet pea, I know sometimes it’s hard to be a dad and a police officer at the same time, but I know there was a gun used last night at that party. Do you know who had possession of it?”

Y/N froze in a silent panic. She couldn’t throw JJ under the bus like that, even if guns scared her. He would never forgive her and she would most likely never see him again.

“Uhh, no I was over on the other side of the fire. When the crowd of people started running saying that there was a gun I ran too. You know I hate them.” She tried her best to sound convincing. Sometimes her father was intimidating. He gave her a raised eyebrow.

“You sure? It sounded like it was one of your Pogue friends.”

“No they were all with me around that time.”

He hummed, definitely not satisfied with her answer.

“Well, the Sheriff already told me she knew who it was but didn’t give me his name. I figured you’d know who it was.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Now, I don’t think the island is safe right now, so I need you to make smart decisions. No parties, no boats, no beaches and no hanging out with your little Pogue friends for a while. I don’t think they are very good influences.”

“Dad you can’t do that!” Y/N cried. “They’re my friends! I don’t care about the parties but that’s just not fair!”

“It’s what’s best. A man was found dead yesterday and I don’t need you being the next. The marsh is closed until we can find that sunken boat and any clues leading toward the investigation. I better see you here when I get back.”

And with that, Victor Shoupe was out the door without a final glance towards his daughter. His heavy footsteps heard as he descended the stairs.

“You could have at least closed the door!” Y/N got up with a huff, slamming it hard enough to prove she was upset. He was right about one thing, having a police officer father was hard. She raced back to her phone, tapping on Kiara’s contact.

‘Bad news. Dads got me on lockdown saying it isn’t safe right now. He said the marsh was closed so if we’re doing this it’s gotta be fast. Gotta sneak around my mom to get the gear.’

Luckily, Y/N’s mom was locked away in her study, like usual. It was one room she was never allowed into no matter the circumstance. She had caught glimpses at it, but not long enough to make out what she does in there. Sometimes she would walk by and hear her aggravated sighs and hear frantic typing on her laptop. She figured it was just her working on a new novel and writer’s block. Everything about that room was a secret to her. Even her father rarely entered. Y/N changed into her bikini and jean shorts before sneaking down the stairs after she heard her father leave and the pickup truck pull out of the driveway. Avoiding the study, she ducked out the back door to avoid being seen through the window at the front of the house. The diving gear was kept in their small shed in the backyard. Half of the memorabilia, toys and tools in here hadn’t seen the light of day in years. With her parents so focused on their careers they never surfed or gardened since she could remember. After her mother was shot, life had never been the same. It seemed like her dad was trying to prove that he has what it takes to become Sheriff one day and that her mother had to prove to the world that she is interesting enough to buy her books. Why was there anything to prove? None of her books made bestselling titles except for her autobiography of her life as a detective, wife and mother. She wrote mystery novels now. How fitting.

The shed was unlocked. After locating the box of diving gear, she double checked that there was a mask and an oxygen tank before lifting it off the shelf and sneaking around the house again. She hopped in her car, thankfully parked on the street before making her way to the Chateau, not ready to see JJ.

The boat ride out to the wreck was silent. The tension between Y/N and JJ could be felt from everyone around them. As John B came to a stop, Y/N brought out her gear, getting ready to hop in. John B threw out an anchor.

“Fuck. This tank is a quarter full. I guess it really has been that long. I don’t even know if this is safe.” Y/N said, displaying her thoughts out loud.

“Great, I love it when a plan comes together.” Pope said sarcastically.

“It should only be... “ She looked down at the boat below. “25 minutes if that boat is 30 feet down. I just have to mark a safety stop.”

With that she took a ribbon from the gear box and her shorts off and plummeted into the water.

“That was hot.” JJ blurted.

The friends rolled their eyes. Y/N resurfaced and jumped back into the boat.

“Okay I tagged about ten feet down the anchor line. It’s where I’ll do my safety stop.”

For the first time since last night, JJ spoke to Y/N.

“Okay, when you’re down there, you’re going to look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing the key from JJ. She was still waiting on that apology.

“See ya in a few!”

She placed the mask over her face, saluted to her friends and jumped into the water. The water in the marsh was murky, but the outline of the boat was evident amidst the cloudiness.

Above water, the sound of police siren whooped through the air.

“Oh shit it’s Y/N’s dad!”

“Just act frickin’ natural!”

“Evening, officers.”

“Evening.” Shoupe said in an assertive tone. He threw Pope a line to tie the boats together. The other cop from the motel raid was with him.

“How you kids doin’? You know the marsh is closed?” He asked.

“No.”

“No, wow.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Why- why was it closed?”

The friends tried to act as normal as possible. Their attempts feeble.

“We’re conducting a search out here. Boat went down. Seen anything?”

A collective round of ‘no’s’ came from the group. Shoupe didn’t seem terribly convinced. JJ suddenly remembered that Y/N was down there, using more and more oxygen by the minute. He prayed she wouldn’t pop out of the water anytime soon. Another situation with bad timing. The others seemed to realize too, attempting to hide their agitation from the officers. Shoupe noticed this.

“I’m going to uh, check your little boat out.”

“You wanna check, uh check her out, yeah.” John B stuttered.

“Thank you.”

Shoupe made his way into the boat. He glanced at each of the teenagers faces.

“You got any more of these?” He asked, holding up a life jacket.

“Yeah, yeah. There’s more in the hold.”

Kiara stood up so he could look under the seat.

JJ pulled out three more life jackets.

“Yeah, here you go.” He said.

Shoupe nodded sternly. He looked out onto the water, suspicious. He made his way to the bow of the boat.

“Be careful. You don’t want to slip.” Pope commented. Shoupe placed his sunglasses on, scanning the water for anything out of the ordinary. The sunset made it hard to search, creating a glare of colour on the surface.

“All right.” He concluded. “Beautiful day.”

“Sure is, sir.”

“Let us know if you see anything on your way out.”

“Will do.” Replied JJ and Pope.

“We’ll be gone soon sir.”

“Yes you will.”

Shoupe got back into his boat and drove away. When he was out of sight, the group rushed to the side, worried for the girl who was underwater.

“She’s definitely out of air.” Pope said.

“There she is!” JJ yelled.

“Oh god! Jesus Christ!”

Y/N gasped for air loudly and desperately. She pulled the mask off and swam towards the boat.

“How’d it go down there?” John B asked. “Did you find anything?”

Unable to speak properly, Y/N tossed a black bag she scavenged onto the deck near JJ’s feet. He grabbed it immediately.

“Hell yeah!” He said.

Y/N climbed the ladder, still short of breath.

“Yeah, you’re dad was here, but we took care of him.” Pope told her. Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.

“Gotta, get back, before he does.” She said between breaths. She sat down tiredly.

Kiara suddenly shifted.

“Hey, guys? Bogey at two o’clock.”

“What?”

A white boat was approaching the Pogues fast. Two men were on board. No one recognized it.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know but let’s not stick around to find out. JJ get the bowline.” John B instructed. JJ tried to pull the anchor up as fast as he could.

“Guys don’t wait up for me!” He yelled.

“Let’s go!” Kiara added.

The boat did not slow down. John B started up the boat and headed into the marsh. The mysterious boat and its occupants turned to follow them.

“They’re following us!”

Y/N turned around at the same time the passenger began to pull out a gun. Her eyes widened.

“Gun! They’ve got a gun!” She alerted her friends before ducking down to avoid the line of fire. The first shot was sent out, narrowly missing John B who was intent on driving the boat as fast as he could. The rest of the gang lowered to the deck. JJ instinctively covered Y/N as best he could, shielding her from any potential bullets. He remembered her fear of guns this time.

“John B, get down!” He yelled at his best friend.

The perpetrator opened fire a second time. The boat was gaining on them.

“Oh my god we’re gonna die!” Pope yelled. A third shot rung out.

“Shit! Pope, move!” Kiara said, standing up to reach the net at the back of the boat. Another bullet flew by.

“Kie get down!”

Kiara ignored John B’s plea and threw the net behind the boat. A loud noise could be heard as it wrapped within the prop of the boat behind them. It slowed to a stop. Angry shouts of the two men could be heard as another shot flew after them. The Pogues drove to safety.

Back at the Chateau, John B grabbed the mystery bag and plopped it onto the dock. Y/N was still shaken up by the recent events, opting to be silent. JJ helped her off the boat in her shaken state.

“What do you think is in it?”

“Gotta be money right?”

“Can we please just open the bag!” Pope ushered. “You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

John B opened the bag to take out another bag. He opened the drawstrings to reveal a metal cylinder. Y/N watched with eager eyes behind JJ. She hoped her efforts weren’t for nothing.

John B unscrewed the end of the cylinder and dipped it upside down into his hand. A compass fell into his palm. He froze.

“Oh, great job everyone! We found a compass.” Pope stated sarcastically. JJ looked disappointed.

“Sorry Y/N, looks like you almost drowned for a stupid compass that’s not worth anything.”

Y/N frowned while John B laughed.

“This was my father’s.”

Any feedback appreciated. :) Let me know if I should continue! <3

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