#sealed 𓂁 ☼♒︎

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter one

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): none, just angst

author's note: first chapter! i didn't expect it all to be in jj's pov lol. PLEASE read the author's note here, but i want to reiterate that this fic is canon-compliant up until season 4, ep. 5. for example, in this chapter we learn there are still a few days before the court hearing regarding the maybank property. this story will not be canon-compliant from this chapter onwards!

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JJ can feel the air in his lungs running out, and the pressure from the wind and rain around him only speeds up the process. He’ll have to stop running soon; his endurance can only last so long, but until then, he needs to run. Run away from the lighthouse that Luke is maybe still shouting from. Run away from the lies. Run away from his remaining hope for the man who raised him — if you can call it that. 

JJ’s on autopilot, not having to think about where he’ll go. He’s always known where his feet take him in these moments of desperation. The place has changed, ironically from the Chateau to the place he used to run from, but the reason has stayed the same. The people have stayed the same. Still, he can’t think straight. The pinching feeling in his chest is growing, and he knows what’s next. The pinch will get tighter until it feels like his weight has collapsed on itself, landing right on his weak heart. Usually, the pressure builds quickly. Right now, though, it’s a slow build. Those are always the worst. Sometimes, when the build is slow and sneaky, the pain doesn’t go away until the next day. 

He can’t let it stop him right now, though. Not until he’s back at the shop with the other Pogues. It’s probably not much longer before he’ll reach the boat that will take him where he wants to be, needs to be. It doesn’t ease the pressure in his chest, but it clears his mind a bit. It lets him think just a little longer about what’s next. He’ll drive it as quickly as he can and head straight to the Pogues, then tell them what happened. They’ll help him. He knows they will. 

As he steps onto the boat and starts to undock, the rain still falling steadily, he thinks of what the Pogues are probably doing right now. Wait. No, no, no. 

They’re not home, not all of them, at least. The Pogues had gone to follow the clues left behind regarding Blackbeard’s treasure, but Kiara was home. She was there alone, waiting just for him, to make sure he didn’t get in any trouble he couldn’t get out of. That should’ve been enough. Knowing Kiara would be there should’ve made his path clearer, like the break of dawn in the dark, rainy night surrounding him. Yet, it is as if his hands move without permission, turning him away from his intended path. JJ turns the boat around, buying himself time before he eventually makes it back to the surf shop. For now, he just needed to think. The solitude would do him some good, let him think about the lies Luke had just tried to sell him. JJ could handle this.

He hadn’t expected to return the next day, but whenever JJ thought he was closer to driving the boat home, he’d start to reel again. He didn’t want to go back to the Pogues at the height of his emotional turmoil, especially when what Luke said was no doubt bullshit. His friends don’t have parents who are in the running for some Parent of the Year award — well, maybe Pope— but they also don’t have Luke Maybank as a parent. Their parents could be murderers and treasure hunt junkies, but they loved their children. The worst of them still took his last breaths for his daughter. Forget loving him; Luke’s only thoughts regarding JJ were about how he could get his next crash gab. He was willing to give away his title as JJ’s dad at the first opportunity of something better. It’s embarrassing– humiliating to let them see just how unloved he is by his father. 

“JJ, where have you been?” JJ’s eyes meet Kiara’s as she stands up from where she is crouching in her garden. JJ looks away, training his gaze on the crops surrounding them. He can still remember how excited Kie was when she started the garden. She had spent an entire smoke sesh sprouting predictions about how far each crop would come within a three-year timeline. Now, he doesn’t even know if she’d be able to see the results of her hard work or if some Kooks would bulldoze the whole thing in a few weeks. JJ cringes, looking back to Kie. It’s easier to look at her than their withering dreams. 

“Long story,” He mumbles. “Where are the others?” 

“Almost here, why? What happened?” JJ suppresses his groan at her questioning. He knew his lies never got past her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try. 

“Nothing, Kie,” His insistence is met with a deadpan look. 

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It…” JJ runs his hand through his hair, jaw clenching. This is the part of the conversation he was dreading most, admitting that Luke was back and he never even told him. Somehow, the fact that Luke didn’t find it worth telling JJ he was back on the island was worse than the lies he had spun. “Doesn’t matter. It’s just my dad.” Dad. 

“Oh shit. He’s back?”

“Yep,” JJ does his best to hide how badly this affects him. Whether it’s believable or not, he doesn’t know. “He’s been holding up at Barracuda Mike’s, I guess.”

“JJ…” 

“Don’t,” JJ says, putting a hand up. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

JJ lets the silence stretch between them, debating his next words. How can he say this without sounding like he’s gone too far off the rails this time?

“He…uh…” Kie moves closer, watching her step as she approaches JJ.

“Yeah?”

“He… told me he wasn’t my real dad,” Kiara looks at JJ for a second, which feels much too long before she smirks at him.

“You wish,” It does feel like a cruel joke, but even if it’s a lie, Luke wasn’t trying to be humorous. 

“Kie, it wasn’t a joke. Like, he was being…I don’t know what he was being, but,” JJ trails off, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out the crumpled letter he has been turning over in his hands every couple of hours since he received it. 

“I got this,” JJ mumbles, waving the letter in his trembling hands. Unfolding the letter haphazardly, JJ extends it for Kiara to take. Kiara wipes her hands against her shorts again before taking the letter.

The sound of grass crunching underfoot pulls both their gazes toward an approaching figure. You step into view, your expression calm but with the slightest arch of a brow. You hold an apple in one hand, idly passing it to the other.

“What’s that?” You ask, your gaze trained on the letter Kie has yet to read. JJ reaches out and snatches the letter back from Kie’s hands, stuffing it in his pocket again.

“Nothin’,” JJ replies, his tone clipped. Your gaze lingers on JJ’s pocket as you take a bite of your apple. In response, you simply hum and let your gaze trail back to JJ’s. Looking between the two girls,  JJ searches for a way to avoid any more discussion. “You two didn’t go with the others?” He directs the question to Kiara even though he knows she stayed behind.

“Kie said she was gonna wait for you, so I decided to stay back with her. In case she needed backup,” You shrug. 

“Backup for sitting in a garden?” 

“Backup for whatever trouble you’d inevitably bring back. Guess I called that one.” You nod your head at JJ’s pocket, your tone sharp but not necessarily unkind. Still, it’s a sharp contrast to the usual warmth you show the others. JJ feels that familiar itch of irritation crawl up his spine, igniting something raw within him. It always seems to happen when you are around him lately, like you merely exist to remind him of every single one of his shortcomings. 

 “You figure out whatever was more important than helping us?” you add. 

Two years ago, JJ couldn’t have imagined he’d feel this way about you. This tension hadn’t always existed between the two of you, not until a few months ago. You had been with Cleo and their ship captain, Terrance since you were 14, which meant that you’d been with Cleo when helping John B and Sarah try to retrieve the Royal Merchant gold in the Bahamas. When it came time to decide if their alliance would shift to something more, you’d turned to Cleo for guidance. It was Cleo who decided that you two would join the Pogues from that point onwards.  

When you and Cleo had first joined them on Poguelandia, it had been a wonder how effortlessly you fit in with their unconventional family. You and JJ may not have had the same heartfelt bond that was cultivated over years of knowing one another, but you and he had shared many laughs, just the two of you. Those laughs didn’t feel like they meant much at the time, but he would find himself clinging to those memories like a lifeline– a reminder that you didn’t always look at him with such disfavor. 

JJ always thought you were funny in a way that went under the radar – a quiet, cutting kind of humor. You’d let out a sarcastic comment under your breath or give a look that had impeccable comedic timing. JJ was often the only person to catch these little moments, and in return, he’d get a small smirk. You were still funny, still fun, but it was like any time JJ was near you, you lost the ability to pretend you didn’t hate him. Your smile would disappear when he’d try to make a joke or suggest an activity for the group to do, albeit those suggestions were usually a little reckless.  He understood that he wasn’t anyone’s favorite person right now, but he didn’t understand why it seemed like you had a personal grudge against him. Now, every look you give him feels like judgment he can’t escape, and every word seems calculated to remind him of how much he’s messed up. Can’t a man make a few mistakes without being chased with metaphorical pitchforks? Jesus. 

Since Terrance’s death, you had been reeling. Your version of reeling, at least. Turning in on yourself, withdrawing from everyone else. You had seemed like a shell of the person he had come to know. At this moment, you seem to be doing better, and JJ is relieved to see it. It didn’t matter what was happening between them; if a Pogue was in pain, JJ felt it. But he isn’t relieved enough to be glad he is at the receiving end of the anger that had started to become far too familiar. 

“Yeah,” JJ rolled his eyes, turning away from you. “Something like that.” If you were going to say something, you never got the chance because just then, the Pogues are pulling in with the Twinkie. JJ looks towards Kiara, widening his eyes as if to say ‘Keep this a secret, please?” Kiara furrows her brows, clearly not receiving the message, and looks to you to see if you understand. JJ groans and looks back at you. Seeming to get the message, you snort and roll your eyes.

“Relax. I’m going,” You say before walking towards the other Pogues as they get out of the Twinkie. 

“Can we, uh…not tell them,” JJ sighs, looking back to see if the Pogues would be able to hear him from where they are gathered. “I mean, I just don’t want them to know how far Luke would actually go. You know, to get some cash.” Kiara nods, giving him a small smile.

“Another one of our little secrets?” JJ smirks, nodding in agreement. He takes one more glance behind him before stepping closer to whisper his next words.

“A secret for the streets and a secret for the sheets,” JJ winks, causing Kiara to groan at the cliche and JJ to burst out laughing. Suddenly, a blur of blonde hair speeds past JJ and Kiara, knocking JJ’s shoulder as it goes.

“What’s wrong with Sarah?” JJ asks, turning to find Pope walking closer to him.

“Rat swarm,” Pope says, a dazed look in his eyes as he follows Sarah inside. 

Rat swarm?

“The weirdest part is other people were looking for the same thing we were looking for,” Pope’s movements are animated and his voice passionate as he recalls what he and Sarah saw in the catacomb. JJ’s trying his best to push the past twenty-four hours out of his thoughts and focus on his friends, but he keeps catching himself thinking, ‘What next?’ on a never-ending loop. 

“I hate that I missed that,” He hears Kie say, but he’s not sure what she’s referring to exactly. His absentmindedness is why he takes a minute too long to respond when John B directs a question to him. 

“Where’d you ghost off to, big guy?” John B asks, his expression a mix between expectant and worried. JJ stands up from where he’s slumped against the railing, turning to look at Kiara to make sure she’s not about to give anything away. But as he turns to look at Kie, he catches you staring at him. You’ve been looking at him oddly for the past twenty minutes that you’ve all been gathered on the patio, but he figured you were just at your wit's ends with him again. Now, your expression is suddenly intensified, and you look at him like you know something. But that’s impossible. 

Looking at you, he replies, “Oh, I was, uh… just trying to help out the team. Quick cash grab. Yeah.” His voice seems a bit lost as he explains, but he shrugs and clears his throat. “But the plan fell through ‘cause it was Barracuda Mike.” 

“As much as I’d hate to hear JJ tell us that story,” He hears you cut in, not a trace of your previous insight left for anyone to see. “We need to talk about the zoning hearing. It’s in a few days.” Was your frustration real, or were you covering for him?

“Anyone got any ideas?” Cleo asks, walking to sit next to Pope. 

“Oh, yeah, let me just study up on real estate–” Pope’s quip is silenced by a single look shot at him by Cleo. “Sorry.” 

JJ hears you chuckle at that, and he smiles as he looks at you. You’re generous with your laughs as long as JJ isn’t involved, but they’re always genuine when you’re watching Cleo and Pope interact. He remembers you once told him something was healing about watching Cleo and Pope together, but he’d never gotten the chance to ask you what that meant. 

“How about we call people,” John B suggests, ever the leader. “The whole island’s pissed about what they’ve been doing. We get everybody over there, pack the house, and rally the troops.” 

“More the merrier,” JJ nods. “I could get the surf squad out there. From the beach.” 

And just like that, the Pogues are all brainstorming how they can help and who they can call. JJ hears Kiara mention something about Rafe Cameron, but he still feels a swell of hope as he thinks about all the Pogues on the island showing up to fight for the shop. He’s mistrusting of hope because of what it inevitably leads to, but he always falls for it. That low thrum seems to course through his veins and grows with each passing moment. That feeling is like the antithesis of when he feels his heart pinch. It’s better than any drugs or alcohol that he usually uses as a mask for his darkest thoughts. It also has a worse crash down to reality than both combined. 

Unfortunately, it seems he won’t be experiencing the full high of hope because as the group disperses to handle their individual tasks, the last person he’d expect to willingly talk to him is standing in front of him.

“Um, yes?” JJ tilts his head at you, who’s bouncing slightly on your feet. That’s odd. You're a very collected person, more in control of your emotions than the average person. You’re so much like Cleo in that way which makes sense considering the upbringing you’ve had. So, to see you in obvious distress about something is far from normal. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” You nod, but as JJ makes a move to sidestep you, you step backward, blocking his exit. “JJ, I made a mistake.” Okay… but why are you coming to him?

“What happened?” You lift your hand, which he didn’t notice you were holding behind your back until now, and reveal a crumpled piece of paper. A very familiar crumpled piece of paper. JJ’s hand flies to his left pocket where he thought Wes Genrette’s letter was safely tucked away. 

“How…?” 

“Are you really asking me that?” Your eyebrow arches because everyone knows you’re neck and neck with Cleo for best pickpocket. It’s almost funny, but really it’s not. JJ clenches his jaw, snatching the letter from you. He needs to leave. 

“JJ, wait,” You block his exit again, and JJ huffs, taking multiple steps away from you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was personal.”

“You didn’t know a letter I clearly did not want you to read was personal? Really?” JJ’s just grateful that no one else is at the shop right now, and he can be as pissed as he wants. “How dare you take this from me?”

“I had to make sure.” JJ doesn’t have to ask you what you mean by that. You had to make sure it wasn’t something else he’d drop on all of your heads when they were already so far under the water. 

“Huh,” JJ gives a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “You had to make sure I didn’t fuck up.” You look away, but you don’t attempt to convince him otherwise. You take a moment before straightening your posture and facing him head-on. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read it, and I should’ve trusted you enough to know what was worth sharing and what wasn’t.” He knows you mean it, that you truly are sorry. 

“Whatever,” JJ never claimed to be a mature guy. 

“Okay…” 

“Alright.” JJ waits a minute, and when he hopes the conversation is finally over, he starts to leave. But what’d he say about hope? You inevitably crash down.

“For what it’s worth,” JJ sighs, looking over his shoulder at you. “I think you should talk to him.” When JJ doesn’t respond, you clarify, “To Groff.”

JJ turns towards you, a chill running down his spine. “You do?” JJ’s compass for good ideas is in dire need of calibration, but even he feels that is obviously not a good idea.

“Yeah. You deserve to know if he’s your… or if Genrette was off base.” 

“I think we both know that he’s way off base.” JJ’s arms cross with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t suit him. “Why bother asking?” 

You purse your lips in thought like you’re debating whether to say what she’s thinking. He’s not sure what you decide because all you say before patting him on the shoulder and leaving is:

“Maybe. But whatever you decide, don’t do it alone.”

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

synopsis: the pogues are back at it again, trapped in a tangled mess of treasure hunts, secrets, and lies. but this time, it’s jj maybank at the center of it all. when he learns the shocking truth about his parentage, old wounds resurface, and he’s once again caught in a whirlwind of hurt and betrayal. but things take a darker turn when jj witnesses a murder and, under pressure, helps destroy the evidence. what he thought would be a harmless decision turns into a nightmare when the only other witness, y/n y/l/n, is dragged into the mess. with the police closing in, the pogues make a drastic decision: jj and y/n must get married to invoke spousal privilege and protect themselves. the catch? jj and y/n can’t even stand being in the same room together. now, jj has to pretend he’s madly in love with someone he’s barely spoken to in months��and who’s not too thrilled about the idea either. will they survive this chaotic sham marriage, or will it all blow up in their faces?

content warning(s): please read author's note! use of alcohol & drugs, violence, angst, somewhat canon-compliant

(masterlist)

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

bonus material

chapter four ig posts

the unofficial playlist

author's notes: hi y'all! it's been a while since i've posted my writing on this app, and i'm so nervous and excited to be posting again! a couple of notes i want to make about this story:

1) there will definitely have to be some suspension of reality for how certain situations are handled. i've done my best to plot this story in a way that actually puts thought behind every character's choices, but it's fiction at the end of the day!! i also am a romance girly through and through, so while i'll try to do the action/adventure justice, it's not my priority in this fic.

2) this story will be mostly canon-compliant, but i've decided to change the order of some s4 events to fit the story better. as the story progresses, it'll become clear what has changed. i will, however, make a note before specific chapters if i feel it is necessary. for now, this fic will be canon compliant up until season 4, ep. 5.

3) i wanted to keep the concept of jiara alive for this fic because i think it adds an interesting layer, but i've decided to change some things about the couple in this story. the timeline and how far their relationship has progressed will differ from the show, but those details will also be revealed as the story progresses.

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter five

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): mentions of vomiting

author's note: i always sit down thinking i have nothing to write and then the chapters end up this long... i'm sorry. if you're reading this, maybe you can lmk if you'd prefer the chapters be shorter (esp since it's a series)

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JJ feels as though he can still tell which patches of grass he'd stepped over when he trekked the path he is currently walking less than twenty-four hours ago. Only yesterday, he was making his way to the familiar red brick steps that would lead him to one of his most life-altering moments. JJ had always expected to be a frequent flyer at the Kildare County Courthouse, but his two most recent trips to the establishment couldn't have existed in his wildest dreams. 

Getting married at nineteen — sorry, John B— to you would have been like a weird fever dream he experienced while on a crazy trip. Being a property and store owner with his best friends? That dream he had kept buried deep inside his heart for years. From as early as twelve, JJ saw the potential in the property where they'd built Poguelandia 2.0. He spent many nights using the open water to catch something to make for his dad and or to make an escape when he needed to. He knew that land and that water like he knew the back of his hand. Building a business like the shop from the ground up had been what JJ had made his eighth-grade career fair project about. He'd completed it with a piece of printer paper he'd stolen from the school library and a red marker he'd taken from his homeroom teacher. He'd crumpled it up and thrown it away before he could turn it in when he realized all the kids had made theirs on full-sized poster boards.

It was moments like those that had made him decide early on he'd never be a business owner. Those subtle reminders that he was in a league so far behind the rest that even completing a middle school project properly wasn't possible for him. When he and the rest of the Pogues had established Poguelandia 2.0, he couldn't believe it. It was proof that twelve-year-old JJ hadn't been wrong. Forget proof of validation- it had made him happy. So happy. To belong, to have purpose. And that happiness may be snatched from his grip in an hour. 

JJ drove the Twinkie up to the courthouse, and in the time he'd spent parking it, the Pogues had already begun making their way in. Spotting Kie, he decides to try to catch up to her. Kie had been quiet all morning, and he obviously hadn't had the time to talk to her last night. If he's being honest, he isn't sure what he'd say to her if she were willing to talk. 'I'm sorry?' 'You up?' Nothing he'd say in any other situation made sense in this one. What did a guy say to the girl he was sleeping with after getting married? 

"Kie—" JJ's call is cut quiet when he notices who Kiara has just met up with in the gathering crowd. Anna Carrera embraces her daughter tight, while Mike Carrera stands with a straight face behind his wife. JJ tries to turn the other way to dodge them, but Kiara has already heard him and is waving him over. Fighting a grimace, JJ makes his way over to the trio. 

"Morning," JJ says, nodding at Mike and Anna. He should probably shake Mike's hand, but he isn't a fan of false niceties and Mike and JJ are not cordial. 

"You showed up," Mike chides, resulting in a tap to his chest from his wife, who is clearly trying to keep the peace. 

"It's a hearing concerning my property. Where else would I be?" JJ shrugs. Mike has never been a fan of Kiara hanging around the Pogues, but he definitely has a personal vendetta against JJ. It's been like that for years. Maybe he has some fatherly sixth sense that told him JJ's relationship with Kie was different from the rest, but JJ thought it was more that Mike saw him for exactly what he is — nothing good. 

"Didn't bring your wife? Not dragging her into this with you?" Mike's question might have thrown JJ off — what with being addressed as having a wife— if it didn't feel like he'd spit the word. He can't figure out why Mike, referring to you that way, claws out an even darker part of him than he usually feels come out with Kie's dad. 

"Her name's Y/N," JJ corrects, his tone low. "She's a good friend of your daughters, actually. I dropped 'em both off here just now." JJ lifts his right shoulder to give off an air of disregard for Mike's faux concern. 

"Right. Well, I hope you don't mind giving us some time with our daughter," Mike uses his hand to gently guide Kiara into the courthouse with him, and JJ waits for Kiara to stiffen up and bristle, telling her dad no. But when he looks at Kie, he doesn't see the same fire he usually does when her parents are sticking their noses in her business. The fire is still there, but instead of defiance, it is fueled by something bitter JJ can't quite place. He watches as she lets her father guide her, not waiting to see if JJ will follow. 

JJ knows he probably looks like an idiot, standing alone like he's frozen. He feels it then, that tight pull right in the center of his chest. A loop of everything wrong starts to run through his mind: Kiara's mad. Property hearing. Groff's my dad. Kooks always win. The loop won't end no matter how hard he tries to turn it off. The volume may decrease as he gets more feedback to interpret, but it'll still be there like a low thrum in the background. 

He finally picks up his feet and moves towards the courthouse, his mind only half there, as if he is floating instead of making the mindful decision to walk. As he draws near the ivory building, he sees Pope and Cleo standing by the doors, in conversation with Pope's parents. It's the person standing a few feet away from the red steps who captures his attention. 

There you are, standing all alone in the bustling crowds. His fucking wife. Your eyes keep flitting around the lawn, looking for something or likely someone. JJ ignores the tiny voice in his head that wants you to be looking for him. 

He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he can't get the image of you from last night out of his head. You in that white dress the moment he decided he liked your hair down best — loose and carefree. You when he was knelt in front of you, all the cards in your hand, still choosing him. You with the barely restrained tears that had felt like they were blurring his vision instead of yours.  And you, with that wide smile and those flushed cheeks from the summer night's heat. The way you danced, your body molding perfectly into his as he spun you closer. He had realized that somewhere between all the fun, he hadn't wanted to let go. There is possibly nothing more dangerous than feeling like he needed to touch you at this moment in time. 

JJ wills away the haunting memories of last night as he finally reaches you. You'd caught sight of him when he was a few feet away and are speaking as soon as he is in earshot. 

"You parked," You say, and JJ just smirks at you stating the obvious. He hasn't spoken to you one-on-one since you returned to your room last night. 

"That I did. You ready to head in?" You nod at JJ's question but make no effort to enter the courthouse. You bite your lip, worrying the soft skin with your teeth. JJ tries not to dwell on how badly he wants to free it for you. "What?"

"Something feels wrong, JJ."

"Yeah, no shit," JJ grumbles, though he finds comfort in being able to focus on his anger rather than whatever else he's feeling at the moment. "These fucking Kooks, man. Always in our way."

Kooks always win. Kooks always win.

You shake your head again before looking around. "I can't shake this feeling like we're forgetting something huge." 

"I think JB brought the Proof of Ownership certificate with us, but I'm sure the court has those files on hand, too," JJ says, trying to ease your worries. 

"No it's not…" You shrug, giving up on explaining this to JJ. "Never mind, I'm probably just anxious." 

"You sure?" JJ takes your nod for what it is– not at all assuring but a green light to proceed anyway. You both walk into the courthouse side by side, the perfect image of a united front. Pope and John B have saved you both a seat at the edge of their bench, and JJ steps back to let you slide in first. He settles beside you, his legs kicking out as he slouches against the backrest, but his attention doesn't stray from you. His gaze remains on your fingers as you wrap them around the edge of your green top, your nerves clearly needing a way to physically manifest themselves. JJ balls his hands in fists to stop himself from reaching out to hold your hand. That probably would do the opposite of consoling you. 

He fights the urge all throughout the start of the hearing. His mind's still running through his spiral, and as he fails to pay attention, the hearing plays on a loop. 

Kiara's mad. Property hearing. Groff's my dad. Kooks always win.

JJ watches as your group elects John B as their spokesperson. He listens to his speech and knows he should be choking up on emotion, but instead, all he can do is focus on his own thoughts. Eventually, the other side is speaking, and he hears something that draws his attention.

"So, what the, uh, current occupants of the land don't seem to understand is that there is an injunction to invalidate the most recent sale," JJ straightens in his seat, no longer able to play the part of uncaring. What does he mean by invalidate? "There was a pre-existing promissory note from the original owner that was in the process of being finalized when the land auction took place." JJ bristles. From the corner of his eye, he can sense the Pogue's confusion, but as he searches his mind for an answer, the pieces are coming together too quickly. The hotshot lawyer keeps speaking, but all JJ can concentrate on is 'previous owner.' Before the Pogues, it had been JJ's house. Which means the previous owner is…

"Where is the original owner? And can he validate the authenticity of this document?" the judge asks, to which Dale, the lawyer, responds affirmatively. 

"He's right here," JJ turns slowly, the appalled gasps of the crowd barely registering past the blood thumping in his ear. There he is, Luke Maybank, his father. No – not his father. The man JJ had been thrown onto, never wanted and never loved, no matter what tiny moments JJ had believed they'd shared. 

Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad.

Somewhere around him, JJ can hear words like 'son,' 'JJ's dad,' and 'fugitive.' The only clear sound comes from beside him: 'We were missing something.' None of that feedback matters, though. JJ can't focus on one thing long enough to process it. The world around him has reached a screeching halt, but his thoughts are neverending bursts of chaos. Of course Luke didn't show up to stand behind him, to support JJ in not losing the land that their fragile relationship had been tethered to. 

"JJ, why would your dad–" Kiara's voice rings through to JJ from her spot next to Pope. JJ doesn't look up as he opens his mouth to respond, but your voice cuts in to answer for him.

"He's not his fucking dad," If JJ was in a more conscious state, he might have enough energy to flinch at your words and the lethal tone you spoke them in. Instead, his head falls, and he can feel it happening. The moment right before his chest completely constricts, and his legs carry him away, running from everything happening here. JJ stands up abruptly, facing the man who ruined him. Luke's eyes find JJ's immediately, and there is probably something he can read in them if he wants to, but JJ has no interest in that. 

From a distance, he hears a familiar voice. She's shouting something about love and not being deserving of it. But it's not the right kind of feedback. He can't use it to reel himself in. 

Property hearing. Kooks always win. Property hearing. Kooks always win. Property hearing. Kooks always win.

JJ's feet carry him towards Luke, but he doesn't stop, ignoring him. He walks right past him, and with a frenzied turn of his head, he searches for anything he can grab ahold of. His fingers twist around the smooth surface of a chair and he lifts it over his head. He intends to crash the chair into a window and get some goddamn air in this room, but he never gets the chance. 

"JJ, no." It's you. You followed him? He looks up, his mind still not completely catching up with the moment, to see the rest of the Pogues crowding the front of the room. Then you. JJ scoffs at the fact that you feel the need to follow him. Always fucking babysitting him. 

JJ's arms are being restrained by the security officer who stands by the courthouse door. As he resists the man's grip, another security guard joins in. JJ can hear you telling him to stop, to not 'spin out.'

"Take him out!" You yell at an officer, and as they drag him out the doors, JJ thinks he never wants to see you again. Your self-righteousness is so apparent in your features. You always know the right thing to do, and in your mind, JJ couldn't tell his right foot from his left. 

"Let— let go of me!" JJ yells, his voice shaking with his body. "Stop!"

Eventually, the guards let go, and there you are again, your hands out in front of you in a cautious stance as if he's some animal that just escaped its cage. JJ can't see anything past red, and without Luke in front of him, you are slowly becoming his target. JJ needs to get past you and away before he does something he'd actually regret. 

JJ charges past, or at least he feels like he is charging. In reality, his movements are slow, from the delirious state he's reaching, giving you the chance to step in front of him. You reach your arms out, pushing them against his chest, and the force is strong enough to shove him to the ground and not even there at the same time. 

“Y/N.” JJ seethes. "Move."

"I won't let you do something you'll regret." JJ steps back, his hands coming up to pull at his hair. You are so frustrating. No. You are downright infuriating and he is so tired of it. You'd gotten in the way and gave him the chance to think about what he's doing. Thinking means feeling and feeling means he won't be able to stop from breaking down. 

"JJ," your voice comes out soft, as if you are trying to coddle him, and it sounds so wrong coming from you. So fake. You don't care. You can't care. Because you see him for exactly what he is. You see him like mold that ruins everything it touches, making it irreparable. Yet, he finds himself wanting to let go of his inhibitions and lean into that softness. He wants to trust it and wrap himself up in it. Your voice seems to be the right kind of feedback. He's able to focus on it and grab onto it. But he's not ready to.

Property hearing. Kooks always win.

Tears are gathering in his eyes, and he looks around quickly to see if anyone is nearby. A few stragglers have left the courthouse, and he immediately runs to the back of the building. He knows you're hot on his trail, but right now, he needs to hide from prying eyes. Everyone will be looking to see how Luke Maybank's son reacts. 

You don't say anything right away, and JJ relishes the moment of quiet. But all good things must come to an end, or so they say. 

"JJ, you don't des—"

"Screw that!" JJ's voice is loud and full of disdain. "Screw what I deserve. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to call that place his. He's… he's not fit," JJ emphasizes his point by hitting the pads of his fingers against his temple. "Don't they see that?"

The look on your face doesn't feel like pity but JJ still doesn't want to see it. You can't care. Do you care?

"No, he doesn't. I know he doesn't," you agree, and JJ shakes his head. "But he doesn't deserve you throwing your life away for him." 

"You don't get it. He's not fit," JJ's arms are being thrown in every direction as he made his point. "He's not fucking fit, and I have the receipts to prove it."

"What do you mean, JJ?" You ask with a note of hope that makes JJ's heart throb. "Is he not the actual owner? Did someone else own the property before?"

JJ sighs, a sound between a groan and a 'no' leaving his throat. "No— I… never mind." 

He watches your face fall; that light in your eyes, the one he found too rarely, disappears again. With the final bit of fight seeping from his body he slumps against the wall of the courthouse, his head falling between his crossed arms. He doesn't expect you to meet him where he is, and you don't move for a moment, but then he feels your hand against his arm. You're massaging circles into his bicep and even with the added layers of his gray shirt and blue flannel, he feels like his skin is on fire. He's still angry, it seems, because everything feels like it's on fire with you here. 

He lets you touch him still, unable to escape the heat. He doesn't lift his head or say a word, but he also doesn't move away. After a moment, he feels you rest your forehead against his shoulder. You both must look uncomfortable, the way he's curled into himself, and you are probably extending your neck far enough to reach his shoulder, but neither of you changes the position you're in. 

His mind is silent. No loop, no spiral. JJ is unsure how long the two of you sit there like that, but nothing seems to be pulling you away from him until he hears a voice from around the corner. 

"Let's check here," it's Pope's voice. When JJ lifts his head, he sees you haven't moved yours just yet. He has this lingering thought that he doesn't want Pope to find you just yet. Pope does, of course. 

JJ makes eye contact with Pope and then with Kie. The speed with which that burning sensation leaves his body is as though a bucket of ice water has been dropped over him. Kie's face gives away nothing, but her eyes tell a different story. She's upset, but right now, he can't really find it in himself to care. 

Kiara's mad. Kiara's mad. Kiara's mad.

"Guys," Pope speaks, only pausing for a second to take in the sight of you resting on JJ. You finally lift your head at his voice, pushing your body back so you aren't as close to JJ. "They're calling us in. Emptied everyone except us and Topper's team." 

"You guys go ahead," It's you who speaks up for the both of you. "We'll be right behind you." 

"Y/N, why don't you head in with Pope? I'll come with JJ," Kie's voice is void of malice, which JJ is relieved about. This whole thing is weird enough; he doesn't need Kie holding onto misplaced emotions because of your arrangement. 

"Right," You nod, standing up. You look at JJ once giving him a nod as well. No consoling smile or encouraging words to part. Just a nod like you had this one under control. Great job, comrade. 

And yet, he doesn't want you to go. He wants to stay like this for just a little while longer. He also knows he should want that with Kie. God, when had this all become so complicated? 

He turns to the curly-haired girl, who is already offering him that sympathetic smile you failed to give him, and he realizes he kind of hates it. He always hates that smile, but he loves what's associated with it. Free range to fuck up as profoundly as he wants. For once, he doesn't want that pass. He wants to believe he can be better and not need it. Laughable, truly. 

"Jayj, I'm so sorry." What else is she supposed to say, really? 'I'm sorry your dad's a piece of shit' basically sums it up. It still feels so pointless. "You deserve better family."

Alright, well now that one is definitely pointless. 

"Yeah, well, "JJ shrugs, pushing his arm out to one side. He's gotten up now and is already walking towards the front of the courthouse. "We all do." 

He knows she wants to say more, but he doesn't want to hear it right now. Kiara accepts that. He feels like there was a time she wouldn't have. She used to put him in his place, but somewhere along the way, she'd stopped. If he had to pinpoint a time, he thinks it was sometime after he'd spent his restitution money on that hot tub. She'd been so angry at first, but after seeing him all bruised up, she hadn't said anything again. She'd even argued with Pope and John B to let them keep the hot tub instead of returning it. In a way, Kie has accepted that this was JJ. He'd always be the guy who drew shit cards and kept gambling like he had a Royal Flush each round. 

"Mr. Maybank, is it?" the judge asks as JJ walks up to the front. John B pats him on the shoulder, leaving his hand there for a while. JJ only nods in response to the judge. "I trust you've calmed down enough to be part of this conversation."

JJ nods once. The judge, still displeased, continues anyway. JJ knows Luke's still in the room; he saw him as soon as he came in. He's standing between Topper Thornton and his lawyer. He must feel like he's on top of the world, sandwiched between those Kooks, and untouchable. He always sort of was for JJ. 

"As discussed during the trial, land ownership has been transferred from the original owner. Seeing as the property was auctioned off before these details were settled, the property is rightfully theirs." 

"Judge, with all due respect, that's unfair," JJ can hear the voices of every adult who ever told him life's not fair as John B speaks. "When we purchased the land, we weren't told of any such issues. To punish us for the fault of another party is wrong." 

The judge nods, not pleased with the situation either. "I agree, Mr. Routledge. However, these are not mere technicalities, and we must not treat them as such. I am sympathetic to you all, and for that, I've decided to grant you a one-week eviction notice." 

JJ scoffs and is pleased to find out he's not the only one. He looks up at you, and when you notice, you roll your eyes as if you are the only ones who can see how idiotic this judge is. 

"What about our money?" You say, your voice full of authority. You're not usually the one who speaks up in public, leaving that kind of work to Cleo, so JJ is surprised to hear you so sure of yourself. "We paid a lot of money for that property; if the auction is void, we should get that back." 

JJ hadn't thought of that. He'd been so caught up in losing this dream he hadn't thought about the fact that the money could be returned to you. That it should be. 

"I also agree with you, Ms. …" You don't fill in the space the judge leaves, instead sticking your nose up at the thought of sharing information about yourself. JJ does nothing to hide the smirk that comes out of him, subconsciously finding himself jutting his chin out to mimic you. The judge continues, but he does not looks happy about your display of rebellion. 

"The sum you paid for the property should be returned to all of you. However, because this auction was done through a third party and not by this court, the money's return could take between three to six months."

The judge lifts his hands at the outburst of the Pogues, cutting them off. "This is completely out of your control, but it is out of my control as well. I've decided that until the money from the auction has been returned, no work can be done on the old Maybank property." 

This time, the Kooks in the room react poorly to the news. JJ should be glad it's not all smooth sailing for the Kooks, but they'll still get there eventually. What's there to celebrate in that? The judge continues, going between appeasing you all and the Kooks and then going over the ground rules. 

The Pogues must leave by the following Wednesday at 12 pm. 

The Kooks may not remove any structures or begin work until the money has been returned to the Pogues. 

There will be another hearing between the two parties and the judge when the money has been returned and construction may only proceed then. 

There's more. So many rules, all of them pointless. 

JJ walks out behind all the Pogues except you. You're walking next to JJ again, with a little more space. No one speaks. 

"JJ," JJ stills at the voice of his father. He can hear it already, that tilt of apology present. JJ never could figure out if it was real. If his dad would have these moments of clarity, he could see just how cruel he was or if it was just a way to get JJ to keep coming back. 

JJ sighs, as if he'd rather be anywhere else than having this conversation, but he wants to hear the reason for the betrayal. 

"What?" JJ asks, his voice full of nonchalance that doesn't belong in this conversation. Topper and his family have already headed towards the parking lot, leaving only Luke, JJ, and the other Pogues. 

"JJ, I'm sorry," Luke starts, inching closer but stopping when JJ steps forward. When Luke's sober, he's a bit of a coward. You gotta believe me; I had no choice." 

"Could've been a man and gone to prison," JJ shrugs. "Simple as that." Luke's face is small, so different from how he looks in his fits of rage. 

"Son, please—" JJ flinches at the term. Son. He hates how much he loves it. 

Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad.

Suddenly, he doesn't want to have this conversation anymore.

"You don't deserve him," It's Kie who speaks up from somewhere behind him. "You don't deserve his love." 

JJ wants to vomit. Do they know he loves Luke? Do they not believe him when he pretends not to care? He doesn't want them to see through his act. 

"I'm talking to my son," Luke is shooting daggers at Kie, but she keeps going. 

"Don't call him that. He loves you, and you betray—"

"Kie, stop." JJ mumbles, but she doesn't. 

"You betrayed him. He's so much better than what you gave him." 

JJ's mumbling for Kiara to stop, but it's like she doesn't hear him. Or maybe he's not actually speaking out loud. He feels you then, brushing past him and walking past Kiara, who's come closer to where JJ is standing. You stride up to Luke and JJ wants to pick you up and tuck you away. He knows Luke's basically harmless when he's sober, but he still wants you nowhere near him. 

He watches as your hands grab the front of Luke's worn-out shirt, pulling him down to your level. Your voice is low as you speak, but the words still ring loudly. 

"You're a piece of shit who got in my way," Your teeth are grinding against each other. "Watch your back." You let go with a hard shove that pushes Luke farther back than someone who didn't know you would expect you to be able to accomplish. "And leave JJ and us alone, asshole."

You don't even wait to watch what Luke does, turning around and grabbing JJ's wrist to lead him to the Twinkie. You're mumbling something under your breath the whole way to the Twinkie that JJ can't understand. When you finally reach the Twinkie, you remove your hand from JJ's arm and cross them across your chest. 

"He's such a piece of shit," you whine, and JJ almost wants to laugh. One because you're telling him? And two, because you look practically childlike in your anger, and after such a devastating loss, it's almost a relief. There are no pitying comments in an attempt to soften the blow Luke landed. With JJ, certain steps need to be performed at specific temperatures. Right now, when he's cooled down, but his hand is still on the knob to start the stove, he needs to pretend that nothing is happening. And if he can't do that, he needs to pretend that what's happening isn't a problem unique to him. Somehow, you know exactly how to handle him right now. 

You're making the problem one he can share with you. He doesn't have to shoulder it alone and he doesn't have to feel like he's the only one drowning. He can use you to come up to the surface. 

"That he is," JJ whistles, then smirks as a thought strikes him. "How'd you like meeting your father-in-law?" 

You stare at him momentarily, your eyes comically wide, before you smile at him. Your smile against the backdrop of these circumstances feels like agony and he thinks he may be a masochist. 

"Think I may start calling him daddy." 

"Aye, that title's reserved for me—"

"Okay, okay," you shut him up, your arms coming up to shove at his chest lightly. You're laughing though. Your real laugh, the choking one. JJ's hands come up to catch yours, tugging you closer, and he relishes how your eyes become hooded, the only indication that his being near you does anything. Fuck, why does it do something? 

"You've got the keys," your voice is even, and you don't move away from his grip, almost making him second-guess whether he really does have any effect on you at all. "Unlock the car."

JJ reaches into his pants pocket and then the next, following with the one stitched into his flannel. He's making a show of not being able to find the keys because he knows how you'll react, and he wants that sense of normalcy. 

"JJ, I swear to God if you lost the keys," JJ quickly brandishes the keys from his flannel pocket, giving you a sideways look. You just roll your eyes and get into the back seat. You don't sit next to him when he gets in the driver's seat, and when Kie takes the passenger seat instead, he guesses that makes sense. 

The week following the town hall meeting had been painful, to say the least. It felt like everyone was tiptoeing around one another, afraid to directly address the issue and too stubborn to let go. The Pogues had tried to come up with solutions the evening they returned and the following day. Every option thrown in the middle of their circle seemed like it would be their life raft, but soon enough, they’d find a dozen holes in it. The Pogues were used to working in the gray, but this issue had them working in black and white. The problem was too entangled in legal technicalities to find a backdoor solution. 

You and the other girls are gathered in Sarah and John B’s cramped room because Sarah had said she felt too sick to get out of bed.

“What are you feeling?” You ask Sarah, whose head is resting against your thigh. She has a lethargic look painted across her features that’s making you tired. 

“Mm, don’t know,” Sarah mumbles. “Just feel tired.” 

“You must’ve caught a bug,” Kie says from where she’s sprawled out on the floor. “Just gotta rest.” 

Your hands run through Sarah’s hair to comfort her, but your mind keeps wondering what’ll happen tomorrow. No one is addressing the issue, and even though there’s been ample time to pack, no one has begun to do so either. 

“Where are we gonna go?” Your voice is hushed, afraid to be the one to bring it up. The atmosphere doesn’t shift so much as it intensifies. The threat of leaving this home is constantly looming over you all, but you’re bringing it down and covering the group with it by putting it into words. 

Cleo sighs from her corner of the bed, “We’re gonna go with Pope to his parents’.”

That much you had assumed. It was like when you arrived from Poguelandia and crashed in their living room. Your question had been more abstract. 

“Um, no,” Sarah says, and you can hear the nausea in her voice. It sounds like her words are escaping past a literal lump in her throat. “Y/N has to stay with JJ. You’ll come with John B and me.”

“Sarah, come on. It’s not that serious,” You argue. Your eyes find Kie’s, who has sat up a little and is already looking at you. You hadn’t had the conversation with her yet, and now it feels a bit pointless. You had already married JJ, so what was the point in running it by her? At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. In reality, you have built the conversation up so much that it felt like too high a wall to climb now. 

Sarah lifts her head from your lap, “It is exactly that serious. What kind of married couple splits up a week after their wedding?” You bite back your bitter reply of a ‘fake one,’ not wanting another lecture from Sarah. 

“Well, where exactly are we going? Because the Chateau doesn’t exist anymore.” Sarah’s entire expression changes. She’s biting her lip in a way that makes it seem like she’s sorry more than anxious. 

“So I went to see Rafe after he stopped by at the shop,” Sarah starts, her eyes flitting to the side. “He, uh, was talking about trying to… reconcile our family.”

You’re sure you’re staring at Sarah as if she has two heads. In what world is Rafe Cameron going to save their family?

“And you told him to shove whatever plan he was brewing up his ass, right?” Cleo asks. You hum in agreeance. 

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, if anyone knows how untrustworthy he is, it’s me. But… it makes the most sense right now.” Sarah’s picking at her cotton pajama shorts, avoiding you and Cleo’s eyes. Kiara rises from the floor and sits next to Cleo. 

“You’re planning on staying in his house… with him?” Kie’s voice is dripping with well-founded disbelief and defensible judgment. 

“I’m not doing that,” You add. 

“No, of course not,” Sarah finally looks up. “He has a one-bedroom apartment he bought to lease and said John B and I can take it.”

“And you trust that?”

“No, but I trust that he said we can call a guy to change the locks. And that he’ll finance it.” You tilt your head in semi-approval. At least she’s thought it through somewhat. Picking up on the fact that you aren’t entirely convinced, she adds, “It’s our best bet, Y/N. Where else are me, you, and Kie gonna go.”

She’s right, but knowing she’s right doesn’t make it easier to accept this is where fate has taken you. You’d never met someone as evil and, frankly, unhinged as Rafe Cameron. He’d tried to drown his sister, for crying out loud. Now, you were going to trust him to shelter you?

“So, let me get this straight,” Cleo leans forward. “We’re trusting Rafe Cameron to give you a safe space? That’s like giving a kleptomaniac the keys to your shop and asking him to watch it.” 

“What– what other choice do we have?” Sarah’s voice wavers, but she looks resolute about her choice. “I can’t just let us fall apart. Not again. I need to make this work, and if that means trusting Rafe, then so be it.”

You can’t argue with her when you hear how much this means to her. If five of you are together, that’s still better than zero. 

“Um,” You turn to look at Kie. “I’m gonna go stay with my parents.” You lock eyes with Cleo, both of you silently acknowledging how out of character this is for Kiara. Kiara’s relationship with her parents is rocky. Not in the way it was for JJ or Sarah, but her childhood home is not a place of comfort for her. She’s doing this because of you and JJ. Which makes no sense because you and he are nothing. 

“Kie, you’re coming with us,” You insist. 

“No,” Kie shakes her head. “I’m not. A one-bedroom can’t fit five people, and apparently, you’ve gotta stay with JJ. Guess the rest of us have to figure it out alone.” The bitter tone in her voice is not missed, and you’re scrambling to find something to take it away. Kiara may not be the closest to you, but she is your family. You love her like you love Sarah and Cleo. You don’t want to lose her because of a guy you don’t even like romantically.

You love them all, and they’re all slipping out of your grasp. Kiara’s bitterness, Sarah’s desperate optimism, and Cleo’s lack of contesting all leave you feeling like the ground is being taken out from under you. Then there’s JJ– residing in your mind in the form of a shadow and complicating everything. 

One moment, he’s behaving so much like the reckless boy who drives you crazy, his words biting and his actions thoughtless. He makes you want to scream, but when you least expect it, he’s pulling you in close and shielding you from the chaos — even when he’s the cause. His touch is always steady, anchoring you to this convoluted reality. That part of him — the one that seems like his rawest, most unguarded self — gives you whiplash. He’s a mess you feel you’re constantly cleaning and a safety net continually catching you. 

“Kie–” You try to get her attention. 

“Hey, Sar, I’m gonna go make you some soup. Just… call the boys back. Let’s have our last dinner.” 

You're not sure how the night had rushed by you so quickly. The dinner had been a haze of forced conversation, and the night had been full of drunken suppression. No one reminisced about their time at Poguelandia 2.0 and discussed how much they'd miss it. That might be something you'd all regret in the future, but it seemed like your last line of defense last night, to live in denial. 

You're all outside the house now, the early morning sun mocking you. The sun isn't gentle. It beats down on you but does nothing to warm you from the chill washing down your spine. The sharp light cuts you out of your thoughts of the wasted night, a cruel reminder that it's all over. Pope and Kie's parents drove up to help transfer their belongings, but they were waiting further away to give you all privacy. The yard, which you had loved for its spaciousness, feels too small. You could see Mr. Heyward leaning against his truck, trying to maintain a respectful distance from the group. Kie's dad had packed his car with her belongings and immediately sat back in the driver's seat, never wanting to interact with the rest of you. You know Pope's dad is carrying your grief with you all, but you wonder if Kiara's dad feels more smug– like he finally gets his chance to shout, 'I told you so!' You want to beg Kiara not to give up, not to go back to their house, but you don't because you think you're the last person she'll listen to. 

You're unsure how many hugs Sarah gives you, but she won't stop even though you are both going to the same place. Cleo isn't holding it together nearly as well as you thought she would. The strongest girl you know is failing at hiding the tremor in her voice, and it's throwing you off balance.

"You sure you and JJ can't just crash with us?" She asks, resting her hand on your arm. 

You shake your head. "We'd just make it harder for you guys." You can see on Cleo's face that that isn't the right thing to say, so you add, "Plus, Pope would get back pains after we force him to sleep on the floor."

Cleo gives you a shakey smile before pulling you in toward her. She hugs you tighter than ever before, and you return it tenfold. She'd been your rock since you were fourteen. You'd never spent a night more than a few rooms away from her, and now you'd be on different sides of this island, which you felt you were still learning some days. You didn't know how to survive without her guiding your way. 

"I'll call you," She whispers.

"Every day," You promise. 

When you pull away, you see JJ standing in the corner with Kie. He looks like he's trying to convince her of something, his hands waving as he speaks. Kie has that determined look on her face that you always admired. She doesn't look like she'll budge about whatever they're discussing. You don't want to stare at this private moment between them but can't tear your eyes away. Is he pleading with her? Apologizing? Only saying goodbye? 

You don't have to watch Kiara and JJ for much longer because suddenly she's stepping away from him with her hand out to halt his motions. That's the last you see of Kiara before she walks away from the slowly dispersing group. Pope and Cleo are the next to go, leaving a hole in your heart that you're not sure you'll ever fill. 

The ride to Rafe's apartment is quiet, even quieter than the ride you four had taken to the courthouse the day of your wedding. When you finally reach the building, no one announces the arrival and no one talks until you enter the apartment. It's a grand apartment, fully furnished and nicely decorated. You'd expect nothing less from a Kook property, and it makes you want to tear apart every – probably custom-made – painting on the wall. Why do they have to have everything? 

"Fucking Kooks," JJ mumbles, taking in the room. "Fucking Kooks."

"Couldn't Rafe have just bought the land? " John B. adds, and it feels like a stab to the chest. 

You can hear Pope commenting with some smart-ass comment or shockingly sassy remark, but he isn't here, and no one fills the silence. 

You don't bother unpacking your suitcase; you're so used to living out of limited storage space. Instead, you help Sarah hang her clothes while the boys go to the grocery store to get a couple of essentials. Sarah is in the restroom, and you've just finished hanging the last of John B's printed button-downs. For a Pogue, he sure did have a lot of shit.

"Oh my God!" You hear a screech from the connected restroom, startling you. You drop the shirt you just picked up from Sarah's box of clothes. 

With your heart in your throat, you approach the restroom door, "Sarah?"

"Oh my God, oh my God," Sarah continues to repeat the three words, her alarm rising each time. 

"Sarah, open up," When she doesn't reply but her panic persists, you try the knob and find the restroom is unlocked. "I'm coming in," you warn and rush in without waiting for a response. 

Sarah is bent over the sink, her left hand covering her mouth. Her right arm is hidden from your view, and she's shaking. 

"What happened?" You ask, leaning forward to find some semblance of an answer. 

Sarah doesn't say anything, but she pushes her right arm out towards you. Her lips are pursed in a thin line, her cheeks void of color. You take a moment to process what she is showing you. In her hand is a blue and white stick, and you take it from her hand to inspect it closer.

"Holy shit."

It's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test. Sarah's positive pregnancy test.

"Is this…" 

"It's real," Sarah whispers. You look up at her, and she returns your stare as if she is expecting you to explain this to her. 

"What are you going to do?" It isn't the right thing to say in this situation, but it's the first thing you can think of. 

"I don't know," Sarah's voice breaks, and her emotions flood out. "I mean, I'm nineteen. I'm living in my murderous brother's rental property because we don't even have jobs. Babies are expensive! I need a job. What will JB thi–"

"Hey, hey," you say, placing the pregnancy test on the counter and stepping toward her to cut off her rambling. Breathe, Sar. Just breathe." Her chest is heaving, and you exaggerate your breathing to model what you need from her. When she begins to calm down and matches her breath to yours, you ask, "Is this something you want?"

Sarah lets out something between an inhale and a whimper. At first, she shakes her head, but something changes when she turns to the sink, and her eyes catch on the test. Her shoulders fall, but instead of devastation, you see relief. 

"I want this so bad," She whispers. You agree with everything she said: having a baby in her situation doesn't fit, but you can't help but smile at her. "I didn't think I would, but if I am…" Her hand rests on her stomach, a streak of protectiveness you are both used to seeing from her and is entirely foreign to you. "I'd want to keep it."

Your chest swells with warmth. "Then that's what you'll do," you tell her firmly. "And we'll all be here for you. Every step of the way." You offer her a confident smile, and she returns it with a hesitant curve of her lip. 

"I'm going to have a baby," Sarah whispers again, but her smile seems impossible to contain as she says it. 

You laugh, pulling her in for a hug, "You're going to have a baby." 

Sarah tightly winds her arms around you, "I can't do this alone." 

After so many years, you want to cry for the hundredth time in the past two weeks. This beautiful girl who loves so freely is afraid no one will love her enough to endure this trial with her. Her tumultuous relationship with her family aside, your new family has been torn apart, and she's finding out there's going to be a new and very dependent member. 

"And you never will be," You promise. "This baby's got a village." 

"Baby," she squeals. Your laughter bubbles up and washes over the room, blocking out the weight of the world for this moment—this moment between two friends and their shared joy, hope, fear, love, and life.  

You'd decided you'd wait for Sarah to tell John B about the baby before you left the apartment. You had to. John B and Sarah would need privacy and space to grow their family. A one-bedroom was already too small for that task, and adding two grown adult roommates would worsen the situation. You'd already shared the bedroom with Sarah the night before when John B had insisted he'd take the couch. You couldn't keep that up. 

You didn't know where you'd go, but maybe you could take Cleo's offer to stay with her and Pope. JJ would have to bite the bullet and stay with Kie at her parents. You'd figure it out. But you didn't want to be more of a burden than you already were on your best friends. 

John B and Sarah had left the following evening to go on a walk, where Sarah would tell him the good news. You'd figured you'd use that chance to explain to JJ what was happening. 

"Hey," you announce your presence, though it seems a bit unnecessary since you are both on opposite ends of the same couch. 

JJ directs his attention away from his phone and to you, "Yeah?"

"So, I needed to tell you something," JJ must notice how serious you are because he shuts off his phone and tilts his body to face you. "It's about our living arrangement."

"You wanna stay with Cleo?" He asks. "That must be hard." 

You weren't sure if anyone else had noticed how much separation from Cleo affected you, but apparently, JJ had enough insight to assume it would. 

"No, uh, it's not that," JJ waits for you to continue. "But what I'm about to say is a secret. Like, a huge one. So no one can know."

This makes JJ's brows knit together in confusion. "Okay? What is it?" 

"Sarah's pregnant." JJ's jaw drops with humorous speed before he begins to open and shut it. He's sputtering, unable to form a thought. 

"Relax," You say, giving him a peculiar look. "You're not the father." 

"She's pregnant? John B's gonna be a dad?"

You nod, letting him process this however he needs the time to. JJ sinks back into the couch as if he is being physically hit with the news. 

"Wow," his hands run through his hair. "Parents. They're gonna be parents," JJ shakes his head, and you wish you could be in his mind at this moment. Is he being judgmental? Is he worried?

"Wait, are they?" He asks suddenly, sitting up straighter. "Does she want us to— does she need our help. Is that why you're telling me?" It takes you a moment to understand what he means. 

"No, she doesn't need us for anything like that," you assure him, a bit caught off guard by his awareness of situations like these. JJ isn't the most emotionally intelligent guy, at least you don't think so, and his awareness of other potential options is a bit of a surprise. "They're going to be parents."

"Wow, that's… amazing," He mumbles. "For them. Could not be me, but good for them." You laugh, the JJ you know poking through from behind all the maturity. 

"Yeah, agreed," JJ chuckles at your grave tone. "But that's why I wanted to talk to you."

"Right," He nods, suddenly remembering the start of this conversation. 

"We need to leave. The apartment, I mean. They'll need their space, and we can't overstay our welcome." 

"Where would we even go?" JJ rubs his hand against his clean-shaven jaw. 

"I could stay with Cleo, and you'd probably hate this, but Kie's parents—"

"What? No way," JJ leans forward again, his expression tightening. "We're not splitting up."

"We aren't?" You ask dumbly. You had expected JJ to push back on leaving the apartment. It may have had just one bedroom, but it was better than any home he'd had before. Plus, it was much better than encroaching on the Carrera's property for him. You hadn't expected him to be concerned about you two going your own ways. 

"We have to stick together." There's a certainty in his stare and an edge to his voice that has you second-guessing yourself. It pins you in place and leaves you defenseless. "Or none of this will look real." 

Oh. Right. What else would he have been concerned about?  

"I doubt Kie or Pope's parents would blow our cover," you say, keeping your voice light, hoping to conceal any disorientation. JJ gives you a pointed look, and you sheepishly correct yourself: "Maybe Mike, but we can find a way past that."

JJ sighs, not laughing at your light attempt at humor, "We're not splitting up."

"We don't have anywhere to go, though," You sigh. "Remember, you said it yourself, no one else will cover for us."

JJ's shoulders fall, and he gives you a look that makes you want to take back everything you've ever said. He looks so… fragile. You may have missed it if you weren't looking at him as closely as you are, but it's undeniably there. 

"We cover each other," he shrugs, and with those four words, he speaks so nonchalantly that he eases the weight you've felt growing on your shoulders. He sighs again, leaning back against the couch. "I know somewhere we can crash." 

You wouldn't have imagined going along with that uncomfortably vague statement a week ago, but now you had no other option. All you can do is follow JJ blindly, even though your trust in him is hanging by a fragile thread. For once in your life, you don't bother asking questions. You're too exhausted to try to piece together your next steps as diligently as usual. You'll figure it out later. 

When Sarah and John B returned, you'd tried your best to arrange a celebratory dinner for them. You'd used the ridiculously expensive glassware Rafe had stocked the apartment with – because, of course, Kooks that could afford real estate on this side of the Island couldn't buy their own plates and cups – and put a very fancy peanut butter and jelly sandwich on each plate. It was all you could do, but you made Sarah's a double-decker for what it's worth. It hadn't made you feel great that you could hear her hurling the contents of her dinner from your spot in the living room (JJ had gotten a good laugh out of that). 

It had taken a lot of convincing and even more tears for Sarah and John B to agree to let you go. They had reasonably questioned where you planned to stay, and JJ mentioned something about a Jim Buckley. The name meant nothing to you, but John B seemed to understand. John B had looked apprehensive but hadn't shut the idea down completely, which made you feel better. He'd even driven the Twinkie to drop you two off while Sarah turned in earlier than usual. You'd held her tight and whispered your promise to her again. You and JJ separating from them was only physical. Nothing could keep you away from that baby now that you knew they existed. 

When John B pulls up to what looks like a dock, you step out of the car to give him and JJ privacy. They'reTheir connection is like yours and Cleo's. You've seen how they communicate without words and how sometimes the only person who can reel JJ in is John B. Saying goodbye will be painful, even with the sweet reminder of who you're all doing this for now. 

You take the time to figure out where you are. The dock extends over a large lake, not the ocean. There'sThere are only a few man-made lakes in the OBX since most Kooks are in the market for real estate by the ocean. You notice a secluded mansion that seems like it touches the sky. In typical Kook fashion, it's humongous, but unlike most other mansions, the nearest house to it is a few miles down. 

When JJ exits the Twinkie, his eyes are misty, but you don't comment on it. Instead, you'd sidle up to his side, your entire demeanor asking him what's next. You hate this– not knowing and not being in control. You never relinquish your control unless it's to Cleo, and it took a few years before you could get to that place with her. The itch for control is catching up to you.

"Why are we at a dock? Whose house is that?"

"That would be Jim Buckley's house. Used to maintain his boat for him when I was younger." You nod, waiting for him to expand on that, but he doesn't. 

"And he's going to kindly let us stay with him?" You ask, a false sense of hope laced in your tone. You know that's not happening. 

JJ snorts, "Yeah, right. No, we're gonna crash on this fine boat of his." JJ waves his hand in front of him, towards the water. You look at the dock, and there, tied firmly to a post, is a cabin cruiser. More specifically, a Yellowfin 54. You'd dreamed of having one since you were fifteen, and after moving to the Island, you would enviously look at each one you passed. 

"We're gonna stay here?" You ask with a slight pep in your voice. You try your best to mask that little bit of excitement and focus on the issue at hand. "We can't. We'll get caught."

"Don't gotta worry about that," JJ shrugs, heading towards the boat. You follow him as he explains further. "Jim's usually flying internationally for business and the missus is usually miles away at Kelce's dad's place when that happens."

"She's cheating on him?" You gasp.

JJ waves his hand behind him, "It's fine. Jim's probably doing the same in, like, China." 

"Um, okay. I'm going to ignore how you know this, but what about maintenance. If they're never here, it must be in horrible shape."

"I used to do maintenance for them, and I know for a fact they have someone take care of it every Tuesday at ten a.m., without fail," JJ offers, and you can't lie that your nerves are calming a bit. "He uses it when he's in town, and Janet puts him in the dog house."

"And Janet is Mrs. Buckley?" You ask.

"Yes, ma'am, she is," JJ stops right in front of the boat, turning to smirk at you. "I was wondering when you'd start your interrogation."

"Shut up," you roll your eyes and sidestep him to get up onto the boat. You don't take the hand JJ's offering you; instead, you stick your hand out so he can use you as support. JJ gives you a sarcastic smile but still takes your hand. He doesn't let go as he guides you to the front of the boat. Lifting the cushion of one of the seats, he pulls out a small key.

"Jackass still keeps it here," JJ mumbled, throwing the key up before catching it in his fist. He has that dangerous look on his face, the one he gets when he's winning a risky gamble. JJ leads you to a short, narrow door on the side of the boat. Before he places the key in the lock, he pulls you in, searching your eyes. He seems like he's waiting on you. For what exactly, you're not sure, but he doesn't deter his staring. You don't have to voice your concerns. He's used to you badgering him with your distrust. 

Still, you say one thing. "JJ, someone could find us." 

"I know," he nods. His voice is quiet but steady. He's grounding you again, tethering you. He doesn't cut into your concerns. Instead, he catches them and holds them with care and understanding. "You don't have to trust this, but try to trust me," 

"Impossible, I know," he says. A small laugh bubbles past his lips, his expression genuinely amused. He steps forward then, using the hand that's still clad in yours to pull you towards him. The smile leaves his face, but his voice softens as he speaks. "But will you try? For us?"

The air around you compresses, pushing you two together until there is space for nothing except a little spark between your chests. A spark ignited by the words Us. That word hits you like a bad wave wiping you off your board. In a literal sense, you are an us, two people in this together. But it means so much more. Like, after you step into the cabin, everything will change. There won't be a you or JJ. There won't even be a you and JJ. It'll only be an Us. One unit. For better or for worse, it's Us. 

"I-I'll try," you stammer. JJ gives you a grateful smile. 

"We'll lay ground rules, make sure no one catches us," JJ promises. There really is nowhere else to go, and all you can do right now is either give this a shot or sleep on the streets. "And if we get caught, at least the jails have cots." Or that.

You hit your hand against JJ's arms, and he pulls away, laughing. He takes two small steps away from you, but the spark doesn't snap. It grows. No amount of distance can extinguish it now. 

He puts the key into the lock and opens the cabin door. You note that the door doesn't creek. He ducks his head and crouches to step inside, flicking the switch to his right. The dim light spills out around him. You follow his lead, his hand– still holding yours– pulling you through despite any lingering hesitation. 

The interior looks exactly as you remember seeing it online when you would mindlessly scroll. The "lounge" area consists of a leather couch built into the floor, a sink with a microwave over it, a fridge under it, and two doors. If your research is correct, one door will lead to a full-sized bed, and the other will lead to a restroom that makes a porta-potty seem big. You'd dreamed of having a boat like this for vacations and fishing days. You'd never wanted it to be your home. After you'd left Terrance, you hadn't wanted to return to ship life, but at least it wasn't foreign to you. You'd know how to maintain it and make it work. 

JJ strokes his thumb against the skin of your hand as he announces, "Home sweet home." 

"Home sweet home," You agree.

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[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter three

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): mentions murder (usual obx stuff), implied sexual relationship, language, use of alcohol

author's note: this one is so long, i'm so sorry hahaha. i'd love to hear y'alls honest feedback

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JJ Maybank was the last person anyone would bet on to follow instructions. So of course, he’d taken matters into his own hands when it came to figuring out if Luke had been telling the truth. After his conversation with Y/N last night, he felt himself descending that familiar downward spiral. JJ had two types of possible spirals. Usually, it felt like a blackout— like he  had no control of his actions. That’s the spiral he had when he broke the generator. He’d been reminded of all the nights he’d used that damn first aid kit to patch himself up, back when Luke still owned the house JJ could finally call home, that it had screwed him up so bad he couldn’t think. The second type of spiral, however, was way worse. It was more drawn out, a deep-seated desperation that forced him to ruminate on every word spoken to or by him. 

That’s the spiral he’d had last night in bed, a seemingly endless loop going down. He knew he fucked up, he knew he should’ve left well enough alone. He had finally gotten through to Y/N, even if only briefly, and he’d flushed it all down the drain. The way she had laughed when she accidentally shone her flashlight in his eyes, had been so unrestrained, like a bird’s song unburdened by the weight of months spent in captivity. Y/N always laughed like she was choking. Her breath would catch between the sound of her laughter, but JJ found it so endearing. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been yearning to hear that sound until last night and he wanted to be the reason for it again, even if it was at his expense. All it took for him to lose that chance, was five minutes and Y/N was avoiding him again. 

To say he was hurt by what she had said to him was barely scratching the surface. His worst, most vulnerable insecurities were somehow always thrown back at him by her. ‘You’re making it worse.’ ‘Why do you always–’ Those words had run through his head again and again and again, all night driving him crazy. Her ability to tap into his negative thoughts was exactly why he always got so irritated around her. Because if he let that bitter wall fall, it’d all be too painful. 

That irritation is exactly what had spurred him to pay no mind to Y/N’s advice and discover the answers to his questions alone. The first plan he had thought of consisted of storming to Goat Island and confronting Groff face to face. But, if he was being honest, just the idea of confronting Groff was terrifying. What if Luke had been lying? And worse, what if he hadn’t been? 

Instead of confronting Groff, JJ decided to follow a different trail – one that felt no less daunting but less revelatory: Larissa Genrette’s grave. JJ had spent his whole life roaming the island and knew each inch of the land he was raised on. He’d passed the Genrette graveyard many times before. He used to think it was odd, why so much land was dedicated to one family’s burial site, but as time passed he became more aware of what the Genrette name meant. The name had always loomed over the island, a shadow that faded into whispers. Whispered stories and half-truths from people who barely knew the Genrettes, at least not in recent years. The youth of Outer Banks loved to share the ghost story of Larissa Genrette and her lost child for their sleepovers and bonfires. A story that was so close to home, yet so out of their reality, that it didn’t bother them. 

JJ wasn’t sure why, but he felt compelled to see the grave for himself, properly. It felt like maybe he had missed some detail, some answer, during all those years that he carelessly ran past these trails. JJ was still clinging to the belief that this was all an elaborate plan by Luke, but he couldn’t stop some thoughts from crossing his mind that implied he was falling for it. Like the idea that he might be looking at the last link to his mother. Somehow, the fact that Larissa Genrette was his mother, felt like the heaviest part of all of it. He didn’t expect the gravesite to give him some grand revelation, didn’t think the ground would whisper secrets of hidden bloodlines, but it would be something. JJ always felt his sixth sense was strong when it came to people– their intentions and character. The first time he had entered the Genrette house, he had felt something was off, but not in the same way the Pogues had. They had been unnerved by the eerieness, but JJ had felt something else about Groff and Genrette. It was like he could feel the connection he had to them, like there was a string between them, loosening the closer they got. 

JJ was getting ahead of himself, he knew that. Imagining metaphysical connections and imagining what it would mean if the Genrettes were his relatives. As he neared the graveyard, the wind pushing his blond hair back, he didn’t know what came next. His feet slowed before he could get close enough to the gate that would serve as an obstacle, goosebumps erupting over his skin. 

There was someone following him.

He had felt it closer to the Surf Shop, before he had started walking this way, too afraid to ask John B for the Twinkie in fear of invoking questions. The feeling that he had a shadow had shaken off soon after, but it was back now, in full force, too close for comfort. He needed to take care of that before he could worry about finding answers to any life-changing questions. 

JJ slowed his steps, considering his options. He estimated that there was still half a mile left before he reached the gate, but the brick wall that blocked off the graveyard was already on his left. On the right, there were tall trees that he knew became more dense the further in you went. JJ started angling his body towards the right, making a show of planning his turn away from the straight path he’d taken for the last 10 minutes before he veered his body to the right completely. 

As the trees grew denser, that feeling of someone following him went in and out, like a spotty connection, but he knew whoever it was was still there. He should’ve run. He was usually so good at running in these situations, but something was stopping him. He was not sure what it was— whether it was the result of the heightened emotions he’d been dealing with for the past couple of days— but he didn’t fight it. If it was the mercenaries after Blackbeard’s treasure, so be it. 

When it felt like the mystery person was further away again, he pulled himself around a huge tree so he was hidden behind the trunk. He’d come a far way from the brick wall and his pace had quickened, causing his breathing to get slightly more erratic. He caught his breath while trying his best to not let his focus shift from sensing the other person. After what felt like hours, he heard a crunching sound. The footsteps were quiet which could have been why he couldn’t distinguish it from the sound his boots were making earlier. The footsteps neared on his left and he positioned himself for his ambush. He wished he had his old gun. Or at least a knife. 

A figure appeared in his periphery and before the figure could retreat, JJ was pushing off the tree trunk and shoving the person up against the rough bark of another. His hand clamped over their mouth while his opposite arm pressed into their chest, his muscles were taut as he held their body in place. A smaller body. And a familiar one. 

Y/N’s eyes widened but quickly returned to normal, concealing her surprise. However, the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath JJ's arm gave away her shock. Her bare skin brushed against JJ’s with every breath, leaving a buzzing sensation with every exhale. Y/N reached up to wrap her fingers around his wrist, prying away his hand from her mouth, but instead of stepping away, JJ leaned in, crowding her body with his. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” JJ's jaw clenched adding to the tensions he felt in every other part of his body. He hadn’t wanted to see her today, but especially not now. JJ’s face was so close to hers that he could feel the warmth of his own breath as he spoke. 

Y/N’s chin tilted up defiantly and her challenging gaze stoked a fire of rage in his as he heard her reply, “Following you.”

“Why?” His voice was a rasp, entwined with the strain of his frustration. The simple word was all he could get past his straining as he looked at her, not backing away for even a second. 

“I told you not to do this alone.” There was no point in pretending he didn’t understand and JJ didn’t feel like he could bother with that anyway. He was so tired of her thinking she knew better than him. She couldn’t bother asking him to pass food at the dinner table, but she was always chock-full of unsolicited advice. This was his fucking family life, why did she get to decide how he handled it? 

“Yeah? And you thought what? ‘JJ’d probably appreciate me tagging along?’” JJ leaned in closer, his nose only an inch away from Y/N’s. He caught the moment her breath hitched, just as it had last night, and he was spurred on by whatever this effect he had meant. “You’re the last person I would ever ask to be with me.” 

The words were meant to cut, an eye for an eye, a harsh word for a harsh word. But if he had any impact on Y/N at all, she didn’t let it show. Within a second, her knee aggressively struck JJ’s thigh, making him pull back.

“Ouch–” Suddenly, JJ’s back was against the tree Y/N had been pressed against. Y/N didn’t have him strapped against the tree with her arms, but the closeness of her body to his was enough to keep him in place. Her left leg was planted between his and her hip was making contact with his upper thigh. JJ blamed the heat he felt at her touch on his anger. Reaching up, her hand cupped his face, her fingers pressing into both sides of his jaw, as she tilted his head down. 

“Trust me JJ, no one wants to be here less than I do.” Y/N’s voice was void of malice, sounding neutral and completely matter-of-fact. “But you can’t do this alone.” 

He knew what she meant. She meant that if he handled this alone, the rest of them would have to pick up the pieces of his eventual fallout. He knew that and still, the part of him he tried so hard to suppress read a different meaning. You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll take care of you. If he’s honest with himself, he didn’t want to carry this alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for help. Pogues didn’t get help. They just had to deal with their shit and that’s a lesson JJ had learned much too early, so why bother. That desperate part of him that wanted someone’s help took over and selfishly accepted whatever she would offer. 

“Whatever. Just stay out of my way.” It was the best JJ could offer, his anger still right at the surface, fighting against his need for help. Y/N stepped back, her hand sweeping over her backside to clean off any dirt. 

“It’s easier to pick up behind someone than in front of them,” She chided. Clenching his fist, JJ turned away, beginning to retrace his steps. He’d wasted fifteen minutes all for it to be Y/N. The two of them walked in silence, not bothering with fake niceties. JJ had too much on his mind.

Y/N tried to focus on the sound of her low-top sneakers pressing against leaves and branches instead of the silence that was enveloping her and JJ. The irony wasn’t lost on her. The boy she had done her best to avoid recently, was now causing herself to second-guess her actions. Y/N never second-guessed herself. She could never afford it. Ever since she joined Terrance, her life relied on her ability to make the right choice with speed and confidence. If she had second-guessed herself for even a second, it could have given some dangerous people a chance to attack. 

It was that quality that made it so difficult for her to think twice before she spoke to JJ the way she did. She never felt like she had enough time to make mistakes and when JJ made a mistake, she felt that same crippling anxiety that whatever happened would be life-changing. Y/N hadn’t adjusted to her life in the Outer Banks. For her, it didn’t matter that there were laws and authority figures who would protect her– or at least were assigned to protect her. Y/N sometimes thought she’d always view the world as her against everything else. Well,  Cleo and her against everything else, but it didn’t seem like Cleo was having the same struggle with adjusting. Y/N knew she could be mean, but she really really didn’t want to lose this life. 

After walking for what felt like forever, a black gate came into view. A black gate that, from what Y/N could tell, led to the Genrette family’s burial plot. She hadn’t asked JJ where they were headed, her head clouded by how close they’d been in the forest and the verbal spat they’d had. This isn’t what she’d expected. 

“JJ–” 

“Just stay here by the gate while I go in.” JJ’s voice was less stiff, his frustration seeming to have decreased, but he still had that dejected air around him. 

“Where – why are we here?” Y/N asked and when JJ didn’t reply she added, “I thought you’d be talking to Groff.”  JJ kept his eyes trained to the side, refusing to look at Y/N. 

JJ chuckled sarcastically. “Bet you’re feeling silly now.” Y/N pursed her lips but refrained from responding. This wasn’t the time to pick a fight with JJ and she should have thought of that before. At least now, she’d try to be her version of supportive.

“Okay,” Y/N said, starting to move towards the gate again. When they reached the gate, Y/N spoke up again. “I’ll wait for you here.” 

Wordlessly, JJ stepped towards the gate, preparing to climb over the barrier. As JJ grabbed onto a rail for support, the gate pushed in with a creek. What… Looking at where She had assumed a lock would be keeping him out, Y/N saw the gate had been opened. Someone else was here. 

“Someone’s here,” JJ echoed her thoughts. 

“Should we come back?” JJ shook his head and she could see the determination in his eyes. He was going to do this. 

“I… I need to do this.” JJ whispered. She understood. She truly did. So she just nodded, reaching up to place her hand against his arm. 

“I know.” She hoped he could hear the sincerity and that he understood she did support him in this. He deserved to know the truth about who he was. “I’m right here” JJ gave her a long look, not making any move to go past the gate. “I won’t leave.”

With that, JJ gave her a nod and finally passed the threshold. Y/N couldn’t stop the nagging voice in her mind that kept repeating this was a bad idea. She needed to push past her issues with JJ and support him in this. Good terms or not, they were both Pogues and Pogues took care of each other. 

Y/N had planned on waiting patiently for JJ. She had told herself she would give him ten whole minutes before trying to find him in the cemetery to check if he was okay. Yet, within five minutes she heard the sound of someone coming towards the gate. The sound wasn’t from JJ’s workboots. The only place she could find to hide was in the trees, but there weren’t many and she wasn’t sure if she’d be caught. Maybe if she stood far enough away from the gate, whoever was about to leave the cemetery wouldn’t look her way. It was a game of luck and Y/N hated those.

Still, she rushed towards the trees and tried her best to stay hidden. Peering over the edge of the tree trunk, she caught the moment the person left the gates. Groff.  She had never liked the feeling she got around Groff. Meeting him had reminded her a lot of her Uncle, which meant it made her skin crawl. Holding her breath, she watched Groff leave the cemetery and turn towards where she was hidden.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Somehow, some stroke of fate led him to walk straight past the trees, his focus on some object in his hands. Y/N let out a sigh of relief and waited for JJ to come back out. He must have talked to Groff.

But no one followed, even as Groff became a speck in the distance. That eerie feeling returned and Y/N ran towards the gate. It seemed Groff wasn’t the forgetful type because he had made sure to lock the gate. Why would he lock JJ in? Y/N needed to get in.

Taking multiple steps away from the gate, Y/N ran towards the iron gate. Gripping onto the metal bars, she used the momentum from her sprint to lift herself. Her shoes hit a narrow horizontal bar and she used it to push off and swing one leg over the top of the gate. She had to be mindful of where she placed her leg, making sure to avoid the pointed tops. Once both her legs were over the top, she used the same bar as a step to climb down and land safely on the other side. Y/N didn’t take a second to catch her breath, rushing to find JJ. He wasn’t around any of the graves, but there was what appeared to be a tomb. A crowbar had been stuck between the handles to keep someone from getting out. To keep JJ from getting out.  

“JJ!” Y/N called, walking closer to the tomb. She pulled the crowbar out. As she went to pull the door open, JJ was already tumbling out. “JJ, what happened?”

The blond boy remained silent, his lips in a thin, colorless line. Y/N’s eyes swept over him, taking note of how his usually tanned skin had turned pale. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost and considering her where she was, she wasn’t sure how far from the truth that was. 

“JJ, hey,” Y/N’s hand came up this arm just like earlier, but this time JJ shot back. The hazy look in his eyes was replaced with a frenzied one, his hand coming up to his hair to tug as he spoke.

“Groff,” Is all JJ said. “Groff.”

“I saw him. Why’d he lock you in there? JJ, something is–”

“Where?” Suddenly, JJ’s voice stilled. His demeanor was still panicked, but his voice came out clear. “Where did he go?” 

JJ didn’t wait for Y/N to stop hesitating, running out the gate. Y/N followed quickly watching him take the path towards their home, the same path Groff had taken. She wanted to stop him and get him to speak to her, but JJ was sprinting and she was struggling to keep up. She’s not sure how long they ran, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. They’d reached the edge of the forest and she knew that after a few more minutes they’d be hitting a road that was usually empty. 

JJ stopped suddenly, bending over to hold his knees. Y/N didn’t take this as a chance to ask questions because it seemed JJ had started to calm down. His breathing was slowing down and some of the color on his face was returning. Whatever happened between him and Groff had very clearly not gone well and she didn’t want to pull that out of him. She needed to meet him where he was. 

“I’m gonna take the long way home,” JJ said, standing up to his full height. Y/N didn’t argue. They could take the long way home. 

“Alright.” Without any more words, Y/N followed JJ as he exited the clearing of the forests towards the road. Just as she had felt everything returning to normal, it all came crashing down again. Everything felt like it happened in milliseconds. 

Groff was on top of someone.

 Then JJ was charging towards them and pushing Groff off the other person.

Groff struggled under JJ while Y/N took in the third body.

The third dead body. Lightner, Terrance’s killer. The third body belonged to the mercenary that had held Cleo hostage and killed Terrance. And, now he was dead. 

Y/N didn’t have time to dwell on what that meant, because JJ was still in a tussle with Groff. She saw JJ’s head flick to the side, his gaze zeroing in on something: A knife. That must’ve been what Groff had used to cause the gaping wound Y/N could see on the mercenary. JJ flung himself off Groff and took hold of the knife, pointing it towards Groff. Not moving his eyes or his aim from Groff, JJ walked backward until he stood in front of Y/N. He had to sidestep step the body. 

“Don’t come closer,” JJ warned, his body effectively blocking Y/N from being able to determine what Groff was doing. Y/N moved to the side just enough to get a view, but not enough to make JJ’s efforts to protect her go in vain. She watched as Groff raised his hands in surrender and an appeasing smile made its way to the older man’s face. 

“JJ,” He chuckled. “Look, I don’t want trouble. He,” Groff pointed to the lifeless body on the ground. “He attacked me. I was defending myself.” JJ stayed silent, his body rigid, on alert.

“You have to believe me, son,” Groff’s words triggered something in JJ because suddenly he was leaning forward and shouting. 

“Shut up!” JJ yelled, before slowing down, his voice returning to its usual cadence. “Just shut up.”

Groff’s hands rose again, pushing them forward in a way of apologizing for overstepping. He waited another moment before trying again, “Nothing bad has to happen. Just… just get rid of the knife. He was a bad man. You know he was,” Groff said, his tone calm, like the kind a father would use to sing his child a lullaby. “He tried to kill you, your friends. He was doing the same to me, JJ. Let’s just throw the knife. Leave him.”

Groff was right, he was a bad man. The only thing stopping Y/N from agreeing to run was that she was sure Groff was a much worse man. 

“JJ, don’t listen to him,” Y/N drew JJ’s attention over his shoulder. “We can’t throw the knife away. It’s evidence.” Y/N saw JJ’s eyes close for just a second, his eyebrows furrowed in tension. 

“It’s okay,” Groff said, his voice sickeningly sweet. “It’s just us three. We can trust each other.” 

“He’s lying, JJ. We need to leave.” Y/N tried again. Groff stayed silent this time and when she looked at him she was shocked by how sincere he seemed. There was something about his eyes, something he could manipulate. He seemed so genuine like he was the good guy, but a good guy wouldn’t have locked JJ in a tomb. 

“Why should I believe you?” JJ was speaking to Groff with the knife still firmly pointed at him. “You just locked me in a fucking cemetery.” Thank God, JJ wasn’t falling for this. 

“That– that was to protect you,” Groff urged, using his hands emphatically. “I knew these guys were on my tail, I didn’t want you caught up in this. I was gonna come back for you, JJ.” 

Y/N stood out from behind JJ to see exactly where his head was at. She couldn’t decipher what he was thinking or whether Groff’s words were having any effect on him at all. 

“Why?”

Groff tilted his head at JJ in confusion, but clarity spread over his features quickly, “I want to protect you,” He said, walking closer to JJ, suddenly unafraid of the knife pointed at him. “Because you’re my son. My boy.” 

“JJ, please, he’s just–” Y/N didn’t have time to finish the persuasion. JJ pulled out the brown and silver lighter she knew he always kept on him and lit the wooden end of Groff’s knife. The fire caught quickly and JJ let the knife fall to the floor. As the wooden part of the knife began to turn to ash, JJ used the toe of his boot to put out the fire. As soon as the fire was out, Groff was approaching JJ with open arms and a smug smile on his face. 

“JJ, son–” JJ’s arm came out to push Groff away from him, a look of rage Y/N had never seen on him before. 

“Leave.” Groff stepped back from JJ with a hurt expression on his face.

“JJ–”

“I said leave. Go before I change my mind,” JJ warned. Then, so Groff wouldn’t call his bluff, he added “I’m not afraid to go to prison.” Groff’s expression thinned, but he nodded. It took him some time but he began to walk away. 

“One more thing,” JJ shouted. “Stay away from me and my friends.” Y/N saw the way Groff’s shoulders fell before he turned away and followed JJ’s orders. Y/N looked around at the empty roads. They needed to get out before someone else came.  

JJ was on the same page, it seemed because he grabbed her hand and began running into the woods. Taking the shortcut JJ had forsaken earlier, he didn’t stop or speak to Y/N until they were safely back on the Maybank property– their property. JJ tugged Y/N’s hand, stepping closer to her. He didn’t say a word, just watched her as they stood right by the chartering shack. Y/N couldn’t get her thoughts straight. Groff had murdered a man. They’d covered it for him. But that man wasn’t exactly innocent and Y/N couldn’t get that thought out of her head.  

“He killed Terrance.” JJ’s eyebrows furrowed before a look of realization passed his face. “Terrance’s killer is dead.”

JJ moved closer, his hand coming up to cup Y/N’s cheek. He’d never done that before and Y/N had a fleeting thought that maybe she’d have liked it if the circumstances were different. 

“It’s over okay?” JJ murmured. His hand was still against her skin, but he didn’t make any move to take it away. “All of it. The treasure, Groff– we’re done. I’m…” Y/N waited, letting JJ gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry.” Y/N’s hand wrapped around JJ’s wrist, clinging to his promise. She just wanted to be done. 

“It’s over,” Y/N repeated, the most she could offer in return for his apology. For once, she wasn’t angry with JJ. Maybe it was because the body was Lightner’s or maybe it was because he seemed to understand the gravity of this situation, but she wasn’t angry. She just wanted to forget this and move on. JJ nodded, before taking his hand away, and Y/N missed the warmth immediately.

“Y/N! Y/N wake up!” Cleo’s voice was barely noticeable as Y/N clung to the last bits of her sleep. Sleep had been fleeting, her grasp slipping every time she got close, last night. Her body had felt heavy like the weight of JJ’s decisions had somehow seeped into her bones. Destroying the evidence had been a horrible decision, to say the least, but it was done now. 

“Cleo, what?” Y/N grumbled, turning the other way to ignore her unwanted alarm. That’s when she heard it: A familiar voice coming from the living room. It was Shoupe’s voice. Y/N shot up in bed. Cleo’s expression was stern, not betraying a hint of worry, but Y/N knew her much too well to fall for that. 

“Do you think he knows about Terrance?” Cleo asked. Y/N was already getting out of bed, running her hands through her hair. Y/N knew that wasn’t the case, but if she said anything, Cleo would know something was wrong. She could read Y/N as well as Y/N could read her. 

Y/N took a quick look at herself in the mirror. Allowing herself enough time for only one deep breath in and out, Y/N left the bedroom. The door of her bedroom, well more like her storage closet, led straight into the living room. Shoupe on the couch, Sarah and John B sat with rigid posture in front of him on pull-out chairs. Her arrival had drawn the attention of the other three and just as she came in, so did JJ from the front door. They had only a second to make eye contact before Shoupe was speaking.

“Ah, Good Morning,” Shoupe gave Y/N an easy-going smile that did nothing to make her feel at ease. Shoupe looked up towards her literal partner in crime and gave him a nod. “JJ.”

“Morning, Shoupe,” Nothing about JJ seemed like he could have any inclination as to why Shoupe was here. Y/N did her best to follow his lead. “Didn’t bring any donuts, but…” JJ made a show of looking down at his almost empty water bottle. “I could give you a sip.” 

Shoupe’s smile turned into a sarcastic one as he shook his head. “I’ll pass. Just wanted to ask y’all a couple of questions.”

JJ’s eyebrow shot up, curiously. “What about?” 

“Nothing of worry. I was just asking these guys where they were yesterday. Say around 4 p.m.?” 

JJ gave him a questioning look, walking further into the room. “Why would that be of interest to you?” Y/N suppressed a groan. Why was he being difficult?

“Look,” Shoupe sighed, standing up from the couch. “I don’t want trouble. Sarah and John B. answered my questions. Why don’t you just cooperate for once.” Oh. Of course, it would have been more of a giveaway if JJ hadn’t been asking questions. 

“That’s all fine, but don’t I get to know why I’m being questioned?” JJ waited as Shoupe looked at him, an unsure look on the cop’s face. Finally, Shoupe began speaking. 

“A body was found on a back road and we’re just trying to make sure all our bases are covered,” Y/N went still. She’d been quiet this whole time, but now she was scared she wouldn’t be able to speak even if she was asked to. The cops knew about the body, but how did Shoupe know one of them was involved? He doesn’t know, Y/N reminded herself, it’s just a theory. 

“And we’re a base because?” JJ continued his act of oblivious defiance. “Don’t know about the rest, but Y/N and I were together around… what time did you say?” JJ’s voice seemed muffled over the blood pumping in Y/N’s ear. 

“Four.”

“Yeah, I was with Y/N. Here, at the shop,” JJ offered. “We were trying to fix the charter shack's generator. Y/N kind of fried the thing.” With that, all eyes were on Y/N. It was her turn to make JJ’s lies believable enough for them to get past this. 

“I didn’t fry it,” Y/N argued, rolling her eyes before focusing on Shoupe. “But, yeah, I was with JJ working on the generator. You can stop by the shack if you want. You’ll get to witness JJ’s handy work firsthand.”

Shoupe nodded his head before it slowly turned into a shake, “No, that’s alright. We think the guy got into something with the Genrettes. I know y’all have been heading to Goat Island a bit more so I thought I’d check in. Thanks for your cooperation,” Shoupe shot JJ a pointed look, before heading out the front door.

“Explain,” Cleo said, her accent coming out thicker like it always did when she was going big sister mode with Y/N. They were only a year apart but she had always treated Y/N like she was her little sister rather than a friend.  

Y/N bit her lip and sighed, “Call Pope and Kie, we need to talk.”

“So you tampered with evidence and left a body in the middle of a road?”

“You know, for someone so smart, you ask an awful lot of dumb questions, Pope,” John B quipped at Pope’s recap. Y/N and JJ had spent the last fifteen minutes catching the Pogues up to speed. On everything: Genrette’s letter, finding Groff at the grave, the confession JJ received, and JJ burning the knife. Turns out, Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had all been questioned before Y/N had woken up, each having an alibi and someone to attest to it. For Kie, it was her mom who had asked her to meet for lunch somewhere. Pope and Cleo had been together at his parent’s place.

“JJ, why did you tell Shoupe we were together?” As soon as Shoupe had left, Y/N had been reviewing every word of the interaction. She was trying to find any part that could have gotten them caught, but Shoupe had been surprisingly willing to listen and the conversation had been much shorter than anticipated. 

“Cause we were?” JJ was sat on the floor, his back against the couch, as he looked up at Y/N.

“Now we’re each other’s alibis and no one can back us up to say we weren’t near the crime scene,” Y/N was trying extremely hard to not lose her patience. Yes, this was JJ’s fault, but she knew it wasn’t black and white. None of the messes they found themselves in ever were. 

JJ was quiet for a while before he looked away. “No one else could have been our alibi.” He probably hadn’t meant for it to hurt, but God did it. He was right. The only people who could have covered for JJ and Y/N were in this room. This was the only family they had.

“What do we do now?” Sarah piped from next to Y/N on the couch. 

“Nothing. The only people who were there were Y/N and me. There are no cameras. We’re fine.” JJ’s nonchalance was met with a slap against the back of his head from Cleo.

“Ouch?”

“You’re forgetting Groff, idiot.”

“Okay,” Kiara cut off any possibility of a fight between JJ and Cleo with a question of her own. “What happens if they do tie this to the two of them? Or, more likely, if Groff tries to pin this on them?” The entire room was silent as they considered this. It almost felt like no one had considered where Groff fell into all this. 

“He wouldn’t—” JJ sounded exasperated by this conversation, but it was obvious to everyone that this was so much deeper for him. “Groff doesn’t get anything from trying to pin this on us.”

“Um, except maybe innocence,” Pope chipped in his usual wise guy way that he couldn’t help sometimes, but Y/N knew he didn’t mean any harm by it. She watched JJ with a steady gaze as he simply shrugged and looked away. This was going to be such a long conversation if someone didn’t take the lead. Y/N looked over to John B with a desperate plea on her face that she hoped he’d understand. Luckily, he did. 

“Alright look,” John B said, getting up from his seat on the couch. He moved to the edge of the room so that he could be seen by everyone. “What we need is a backup plan if this comes back to Y/N and JJ.”

“They could get married.”

Y/N was surprised everyone’s heads didn’t roll off with how quickly they turned to look at Pope. 

“What?” 

“What?”

Y/N and Kiara looked at each other briefly after their simultaneous outbursts before looking back at Pope. He was sat lazily against the other side of the couch, opposite to JJ, mischief in his eyes. 

“What? Spousal privilege and all that,” Pope chuckled. 

“Cleo, wack him in the head,” Y/N fussed. “This is no time for jokes.” Pope lifted his hands in a surrender gesture, but the smirk never left his face.

“Okay, well, any other ideas?” John B waited a minute, letting the silence settle in until it felt as if it could be infinite, before sighing and placing his hands on his hips. “We stay low. JJ, don’t make contact with Groff. At least for now. And we’ll take a backseat on the treasure-hunting stuff.” 

Y/N watched as the Pogues immediately began protesting in various ways. The treasure was their last chance of making it out. JJ was the only person aside from John B and herself that was quiet. He had promised her there would be no more treasure hunting, but she hadn’t taken him seriously. JJ was always the last to back down from any fight, but especially one like this. 

John B lifted his hand to silence the others, “There’s been too much death surrounding us. This thing…it seems bigger than us.” He offered when no one looked convinced, “Just until the Ligthner thing blows over. Then we can try and see if it’s worth finding.” 

“So no wedding?” 

“Shut up, Pope.”

The ban on wedding talk didn’t last long in Poguelandia 2.0, because by six p.m. Y/N had been called into the station for more questioning. JJ had been going stir-crazy waiting for her to come home since she’d left with Pope as her driver two hours ago. Pope had been sporadically updating the group chat, but it did little to quell how his stomach kept lurching. He hoped this wouldn’t catch up to the two of them, even though all points were pointing to it. 

The group had come out to sit on the patio, unable to bear sitting inside while they waited for Pope and Y/N to return. The sun was beginning to set and JJ had to keep absentmindedly swatting bugs away, but he barely registered anything around him. In the past 24 hours, he’d seen things he had never imagined and he never should have. And it just kept getting worse. 

“JJ, can I just ask,” John B spoke up, breaking the silence that had set amongst the five remaining pogues. “What were you thinking?” JJ looked up at John B with a deadpan look. 

“You tell me, 'cause I’m not the only one to turn a blind eye to my father killing someone,” He gave John B a pointed look and then turned the look to the others. “Or try to cover up a murder, for that matter.” 

Everyone stared at him for a long moment, before nodding and mumbling some version of acceptance. JJ shook his head, letting his mind wander back to the day before. Seeing the man who was supposedly his father murder someone wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was seeing the corpse of his mother and her resting place in ruin. 

He couldn’t get that image out of his head. His mother. He’d never known her, never known she was anyone to him, and the first time he saw her – at an age where he’d remember forever– it had been in the most haunting way. He’d wanted to throw up every time he remembered the sight, but he couldn’t stop reminding himself of it. JJ reached his fingers in his pocket trying to find the letter from Genrette–  which had ironically become a comforting item. He felt nothing but the cotton lining of his pocket. Sitting up straighter, he checked his other pocket and found the same. There was no way he’d lost it, he’d kept the letter with him since he’d received it. 

Just as JJ was beginning to stand from his seat, noticing he’d drawn Kie’s attention with his movements, he heard the Twinkie pull onto the property. Soon, Pope and Y/N exited the Volkswagen, their expressions somber. JJ stilled, waiting with bated breath as they stepped onto the porch. Y/N wordlessly slid the white banister and let her head fall against her knees. 

“What? What happened?” JJ asked, moving to crouch down next to her. When she didn’t respond, just releasing a muffled groan, JJ turned to look at Pope. “What did Shoupe say?” 

“According to Y/N, he has some sort of evidence,” Pope took a seat in front of their porch bench, letting his head fall against Cleo’s thigh. “That could tie y’all to the scene.”

JJ’s eyebrows furrowed as he processed what Pope was saying. Just as John B got out the words to ask what evidence they were referring to, JJ realized what had happened. 

“Oh shit,” JJ thought aloud. He was still crouched beside Y/N, who was looking up now to see what JJ was cursing at. He just looked at her waiting for her to confirm his worst suspicions. 

“The letter?” Y/N’s confirmation came in the form of a question, checking to see if JJ had already put that together. When his head fell, he knew she’d gotten her answer. “You knew?” Her voice was so accusatory, so full of unreleased venom that it made his head spin. 

“No, yes– wait, ugh no,” JJ stood up to pace the porch and clear his thoughts. “I just realized a minute ago, that I’d lost it.” JJ wasn’t looking at Y/N as he explained himself. “It must have fallen out of my pocket.”

“Can someone fill us in,” Sarah, who was leaning against the opposite banister from Y/N, asked. “What letter?”

JJ filled in the rest of the Pogues about the letter from Genrette and him having the letter on him. He promised that he hadn’t known it had fallen out until just then and this time he looked at Y/N as he did. She just looked exhausted. Cleo, who had slipped inside without JJ noticing, gave her a water bottle and she didn’t speak until she’d chugged the entire thing. 

“Shoupe asked if I knew anything about it. About the letter,” Y/N finally spoke. “I told him no. He wanted me to confirm where I’d been, so I told him here. With JJ. Asshole tried to say I wouldn’t be in trouble if my answer changed,” Y/N added with a scoff. JJ felt himself soften at that. She’d covered for him and it seemed she’d done it without a second thought. 

“Was that it?” JJ said, instead of expressing any gratitude. Y/N shook her head.

“He basically asked how the letter could’ve been on the road if you hadn’t been. So…” Y/N pursed her lips, looking away from everyone. JJ felt his heart start to beat faster. This must have been when she admitted the truth: That this was all his fault. 

“So?” Pope asked, clearly not having heard this part of the debrief.

“I… told him Groff came by here.”

No one said anything and no one moved. 

“You did what?!” John B was the first to express the shared sentiment.

“I told him Groff came by!” Y/N doubled down, her voice more confident. “He wasn’t letting the idea go that I would know this about JJ, something about all of us not being able to keep our social securities a secret from each other. So I told him I knew he thought Groff could be his dad, but didn’t know about the letter. 

“I told him Groff came by when I was manning the register and said JJ had called him over, JJ and him went to have a private conversation, and when he came back all JJ said was that Groff being his dad was fake news. I kind of suggested that maybe Groff took the letter back without outright suggesting it.”

JJ looked at Y/N, always careful Y/N. Y/N wasn’t careful in an innocent way. It was more…calculated. She took risks she knew had a higher probability of ending in her favor and never ones that would deter her from her end goal, whatever that may be. He couldn’t believe she’d lied to the cops in such a risky way.

“Y/N, that’s crazy,” Kie said. “What if they find out you’re lying? They could ask Groff.”

“I didn’t know what to do, Kie,” Y/N’s head was in her hands now. “I know, it was stupid.”

“Not completely,” John B offered. “Technically, it’s still you and JJ’s words against Groffs. That’s got to count for something. JJ nodded. 

“I just… can’t get what Kie said out of my mind. Groff could easily take us down with him. What if this shit goes to court?”

“He’ll be gone before that,” JJ cut Y/N’s line of questioning off before she could go further. “He told me he’s headed to Morrocco. At the cemetery. Said he had everything: the map, how to read it.” 

“Why would he tell you all that? He didn’t even admit you were his son until it was convenient.” JJ tried not to let Y/N’s words sting. 

“He was trying to make me sound crazy like I was plotting to take the crown somehow by posing as his lost son. He kept saying it was ‘too late for anyone to take what was his’. I don’t know,” JJ shrugged. He avoided the pitiful gazes of his friends by looking out at the now night sky. 

“I guess that’s something. But it still doesn’t get rid of the what if. This is a murder case, so if JJ and Y/N are linked to it, they’ll go to court. We all know KCPD doesn’t have a great track record of putting the real murderer in jail.” How Sarah could speak about her family trauma so nonchalantly, JJ would never know. “We can’t let Y/N perjure herself if they find out JJ tampered with evidence.” 

The Pogues let themselves sit in what Sarah said, trying to find any solution. JJ was never the problem solver, but right now he couldn’t even come up with one of his bizarre ideas. Well, except–

“Guys, I know I was joking before, but…” Pope gave Y/N and JJ a sheepish look, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. There was an absence of even a trace of humor on his face.

“No way,” Y/N argued. “That’s crazy. We can’t get married.”

“Yeah, what?” JJ agreed, even though he’d been thinking the same. He didn’t actually think that would be an option. 

“Y/N…”

“Cleo, there’s no way you think that’s reasonable.” Y/N and Cleo often did this thing where they’d communicate with only their eyes. JJ’s not sure if they actually knew what the other was saying or if they just filled the gaps with assumptions, but whichever it was it had Y/N storming inside the house. 

“Y’all aren’t serious right?” JJ asked, but he had a feeling he didn’t want to hear the answer. 

“Spousal privilege, JJ. If Groff tries to bring you two to court, the only witnesses to his story are you two. If they can’t force you to testify against each other in court, then he has no leg to stand on.” JJ hated that Pope’s silver tongue. He could make almost anything sound like it was right. 

“It makes sense,” John B added. JJ looked to Sarah who was nodding, but giving Kiara a sad look. 

“Us getting married is not being left to a group vote.” 

JJ turned to look at Kiara and felt his face flush. He hadn’t had a full conversation with her since he’d told her about the letter, but in his defense, he’d been a bit tied up. He’s not sure if it was completely intentional, since whatever he and Kie had wasn’t acknowledged in the group, but Pope, Sarah, and John B all went inside. 

Kie avoided JJ’s stare, as she sat on the bench picking at imaginary cuticles. JJ walked over to her slowly, not feeling deserving of talking to her now, after he’d been so shut off. Still, he had to say something. 

“Kie,” His voice was soft as he sat down on the bench. 

“They’re talking crazy right? Marriage.” Kiara asked, letting her brown eyes meet his blue ones. “You’re nineteen.” 

JJ and Kiara had a complicated relationship. For the longest time, JJ had a crush on Kiara. All the boys had at some point, most of those points overlapping. She was a pretty girl and for a while the only girl who hung out with them. It was impossible not to have a crush. But as they got older, JJ was able to look past that, and see Kiara for who she truly was. To him, she held the same place as John B and Pope did in his life, just with the bonus of being hot. Nothing ever came of that childhood crush and JJ didn’t think of Kiara in any way other than a friendly one for many years. Until they’d started working on Poguelandia 2.0.

Maybe it was because they were surrounded by couples, but the air between them had changed, and it wasn’t just on his end this time. When JJ would flirt, Kie would flirt back. When he’d sit a little closer than necessary on the couch, she’d close the gap. He’s not sure when or how, but it hadn’t taken them long to take that give-and-take into the bedroom. He couldn’t say that’s all they were– friends with benefits– because of course that wasn’t all they were. They’d been best friends before everything and you couldn’t sleep with your best friend and not let feeling get involved. But neither of them ever tried to define their relationship and JJ didn’t know if they ever would. Sometimes he would think of it as a situationship that would fizzle out, but then he’d feel guilty because this was Kie. He loved her. He knew he did, but was he confusing platonic love with romantic? And if he wasn’t, if he did romantically love Kie, did she even feel the same? They never talked about those thoughts though and the other Pogues never gave their fire the air it needed to grow– except one time, over a beer, John B had echoed JJ’s thoughts and let it slip that he thought that their arrangement would end eventually. Regardless, she still deserved for him to address her role in all of this. 

“They’re definitely talking crazy, but…” He lacked the conviction he knew she needed to hear. JJ watched Kie’s nose scrunch, in the way it always did when she had something to say but wouldn’t let herself. “What? Say it.” Kie’s nose scrunch disappeared and she gave JJ a small smile. 

“I just…” Kie’s scrunch returned, but she pushed through. “I know we’re not exactly exclusive. But I just thought we were more than…”

“We are,” JJ insisted, his hand reaching out to take hers. “Of course, we’re more than that.” Kie squeezed his hand once, but her smile was half-hearted.  

“Are you seriously going to go along with this?”

“Y/N would never agree,” JJ said to ease her worries, but really to ease his own.

“If she did, though?” Kie’s hold on JJ’s had tightened and it felt like her hand was wrapped around his heart. He let his mind run through that possibility, deciding what he’d do.

“It’s my fault she’s in this situation.” That’s all that JJ could offer Kiara. Because in truth that’s all he knew. No matter what plan of action the Pogues took, his priority was making sure Y/N came out of this unscathed. He couldn’t live with himself if one of his friend’s lives got ruined because of him. 

Kiara took her hand away from his and he felt the lack of it more than the touch itself. “If you do, we couldn’t keep doing…whatever we’re doing.”

“It wouldn’t be a real marriage, Kie,” JJ argued, but he felt gross as he said it. It wasn’t a real marriage, but he couldn’t expect Kie to stick around and wait for all of this to blow over.

“It would just make everything weird,” Kiara voiced JJ’s thoughts. JJ didn’t get a chance to offer any more to this conversation, because John B was yelling his name from inside. Sighing, JJ got up and waited for Kie to stand before they headed inside the house. 

“What?” JJ asked, taking in the Pogues, who had now assembled in the living room. Y/N stood in the corner, her arms crossed across her chest and a look of defeat on her face. Y/N never looked defeated. 

John B clapped his hands with a shit-eating grin on his face, “I’m gonna be your best man, right? Not Pope?” 

What? 

“I’m not walking down the aisle with you,” Cleo shot at John B.

“There’s no aisle,” Sarah reminded. “It’s at the courthouse.” JJ felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. 

“What’s at the courthouse?” He shouldn’t have asked. He already knew. 

“Your wedding, of course.” JJ wanted to wipe that smile off Pope’s face with his fist. 

taglist: @theater-bitch @ayy1234567 @tpwkyarely @lovesanimals0000 @B3rryb3t @mvaldez7821 @ummmmokaynotme @velyssaraptor

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter six

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): references to abuse (luke)

author's note: i don't really love how this chapter came out, but it was needed to keep the story progressing :/ on a happier note, i've been getting more fun asks about sealed and i got one that i loved smmmm. i basically made an unofficial playlist for this series, if you wanna read that post

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To you, the lapping of waves against the hull of the boat is like the rock of a cradle for a nursing child. You had spent a large chunk of your formative years on ships where nautical turbulence was the norm. You can still remember those first few months when you’d joined Terrance’s crew, thinking there would never come a time you would accept it, let alone find comfort in it. 

It comforts you now, too. The surrounding water has much less impact, considering you’re floating over a lake, not an ocean– waves replaced by ripples– but you can still feel that subtle shift in movement when you focus on it. You’re focusing on it now, trying to pass the time while you're cooped up in the cabin bedroom. 

One ground rule you and JJ set was that during the day, you’d either stay on the boat or off until sunset to avoid getting caught. It has been a week since the night he brought you here, and your recent status of being unemployed has made your lack of a schedule painfully obvious. You spend most of your hours texting Cleo, but her responses come slow since she’s been taking shifts at Heyward’s shop. 

You’ve been awake for over an hour but haven’t left the bedroom in fear of running into JJ. After the two of you had unpacked your backpacks that first night, the air between you had changed. The awkward energy between you was palpable as you tried to learn how to exist in each other’s space. With the limited square footage and your fractured relationship, you worry that any misstep could end with you stepping on his toes. You know it’s no way to live– hiding in the bedroom and wasting your morning– but it’s comfortable. 

You sigh as you get up, accepting your fate and preparing to face it. After you’ve made your bed and brushed your teeth in the detached restroom, you take a few more steps and enter the lounge area. JJ’s there, lying face-down on the leather couch, and while you can’t believe he’s knocked out at half past noon, you also feel an immense amount of pity wash over you. He’s curled into himself– trying to make himself smaller to fit on the narrow cushion that curves around a table– but his legs are still too long to fit. His arm is bent under his head as a makeshift pillow. You don’t need to imagine how wildly uncomfortable he must be. 

Trying to be quiet, you reach for an apple and a knife, which Sarah had kindly dropped off along with a few other essentials. You can tell the knife is from the set Rafe keeps in the apartment, but you appreciate it the same. Cringing at the taps of the knife against the counter, you try your best to complete the task more quietly. You slow your actions, but it’s to no avail because you hear a groaning sound behind you after a moment. 

“Mmm,” Placing the knife on the black granite, you turn to see JJ stretching, his face set in a displeased expression. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” you reply, returning your attention to the apple. “You sleep alright?”

“Uh,” You can tell from the sound of shuffling and his voice he’s coming closer. “Yeah, slept good.” You know he’s lying. There’s no way a man of his height and build could sleep comfortably on what is essentially a glorified rock. You let him lie.

JJ clears his throat, indicating that you should make space before he reaches his arm out in front of you to grab one of the two glasses in the corner. The limited counter space makes his hip rub against yours as he moves, the warmth of his touch bleeding into you. He flicks the sink faucet, filling his cup with water– downing it in two gulps. He goes to fill the glass again, and you’re about to snap at him to let you finish cutting your apple when he extends the glass out towards you. 

“Drink up,” He instructs, his tone casual. You pause, looking up at him to see what he’s getting at, but his expression is so neutral you can’t make heads or tails of it. You take the glass from his hands while he remains silent. Without any gloating or taunting, he heads to the restroom. 

You drop the knife on the counter too harshly, your fingers curling tightly around the glass. It’s irrational how deep those simple words bury themselves under your skin. You can’t be mad at him for being in your shared space. You can’t be mad at him for using the cups you share. Yet, you are.  

“Drink up,” you mimic in a much higher pitch than JJ had spoken. You down the water in quick gulps, not registering the sound of the restroom door opening and closing. 

“That supposed to be me?” The only reason you don’t jump at JJ’s voice is years of practice hiding your surprise. You remain silent, turning back to face your half-cut apples. You feel him then, inching closer. The minimal space highlights how close he really is with each step he takes. When his fingers pull at your forearm, you don’t respond, making him apply just a little more pressure to get you to face him.

He towers over you, his face mere inches from yours and an ever-growing smirk coloring his lips. “You know,” he starts, and his drawled words crawl further under your skin. “For someone who hates being told what to do,” his eyes shift to the blue glass for only a second before returning to yours. “You sure took that water without a fight.” 

You’re holding your breath as he reaches past you to grab a slice of the apple, chewing on it slowly as he studies you. His bites twist around a smirk as his blue eyes study something intently. 

“Interesting,” He hums, reaching for another slice and stepping back. That does it. That single, seemingly innocent word infuriates you because what could he possibly be putting together that you aren’t? 

JJ sits on the lounge couch, resting his arms against the table as he swipes through his phone. An empty table. Because there’s no money to put food on it. Just like that, you find your jackpot. 

“You need to get a job,” You all but bark at him. JJ looks up from his device, his brows furrowing. You walk closer to him, abandoning your breakfast, and cross your arms across your chest. “Waking up in the afternoon and sitting on your phone isn’t going to keep us out of any more trouble.”

JJ just watches you quietly as if he’s deciding how serious you are. His expression shifts, and then a despondent sigh escapes between his lips. You watch as he shakes his head, casting his eyes down at the table, making you both more angry and want to hide. 

“Did you hear me?” You ask.

“I heard you just fine,” JJ’s voice is as sharp as yours, but he doesn’t raise it. “What job have you got, again?”

“I’ve been looking for one,” You tell him. You have. You’ve been calling numbers on listings in the paper– like this is the 1900s– for jobs you may be a good fit for, but the paper you’ve been using is a little outdated, and every job you’ve called for has been filled. “You’re not even trying.” 

“Who said I’m not trying?” There’s an unreadable look in JJ’s eyes. He gets up, walks through the cabin door, and leaves you alone. You’re fuming at his audacity to leave you in the middle of what you’d consider a conversation when he returns, his fist tightly wound around a paper. He drops it on the table and leaves again. This time, you wait a few minutes, and when he doesn’t return, you lean over the table to look at what he’s left there. 

JJ closes his eyes and lets himself slip back in time. He’s sixteen again. The HMS Pogue is rocking gently, the air thick with salt and laughter. He sees Kie sitting at the boat's bow, teasing Pope about his meager alcohol intake in the name of a history test. Pope reminds her – as he always does – that he plans to make it out of this town. John B is sitting behind JJ at the wheel. His mind’s only half on the task at hand, a palm resting lazily against the wheel, too focused on finding the perfect opportunity to add his own quips to Kie and Pope’s argument. The argument has branched into a tangent about whether college is necessary, and Kie calls Pope classist while Pope argues he can’t be because he’s the working class. 

JJ’s lying smack dab in the middle of it all, his head propped against the edge of the boat, rolling a blunt between his fingers. The sun’s harsh against his skin, and he doesn’t have sunscreen on, but he likes to think his skin has grown accustomed to the UV rays the island offers at this time of year. He can hear birds in the background, their choice of music today since Pope forgot the speaker he got for Christmas four years ago. 

JJ isn’t thinking about the problems waiting for him on land. The chaos of home and the weight of never having enough are forgotten on this sacred vessel. He knows his life outside the HMS Pogue is waiting patiently for him to return and deal with reality, but he’s not worried about that. His biggest concern is whether Kie will agree to bake them some special brownies since her parents have a fancy ass oven (‘the bigger the oven, the bigger the batch, Kie!’). 

In his mind’s eye, nothing happens next. They become frozen like this – sixteen, careless, clueless, even after everything they’ve already seen. They don’t move forward. They don’t break.

JJ didn’t used to think he was happy. He was always searching for the key to that emotion, thinking it was locked away with a shitload of money. He’d been so eager to find the gold and leave that life behind, but he guesses what they say is true– hindsight really is 20/20. Because he’d already been the closest to happiness he was ever going to get and hadn’t even realized it.

Sarah and Cleo aren’t in his mental image. He doesn’t mean for it to be that way. The sentimental part of him he usually tucks away around the others likes to think that you’d all have found your way to each other somehow. 

You aren’t there either. You’re here. Behind the door that he’s slumped against to remain hidden from wandering eyes. When he opens his blue eyes, it’s dizzying that the surroundings all look the same as the fond memory, but the people aren’t there. 

Those times of never going a day without seeing each other are gone. Somehow, he’s gotten lucky and stretched that lifestyle a few years longer than most childhood friends. College didn’t tear them apart like he used to hold his breath for. Neither did getting his ass thrown in jail. 

Nothing was keeping you guys apart. It’s a choice. Sarah and John B are choosing to prioritize the start of their family. Pope is prioritizing polishing his now muddied resume for a chance at college admissions. Cleo is prioritizing learning the ropes of running a business from Heyward. Kie is (suddenly) prioritizing her relationship with her parents. 

You’re the only one who doesn’t have something that takes precedence over JJ. The remaining piece of the puzzle that’s been undone. The problem is, you can’t stand to be around him. He hasn’t missed how you run off to the bedroom each time you’re in the lounge together or how you hold your breath when he passes by you closely, an inevitable byproduct of the size of your “home.”

 He thought you were making progress, starting to get along after the months-long drought your friendship endured. You were laughing at his jokes again, trusting him with secrets. Trusting him with the boat. The boat was huge. It was the first time JJ felt you’d put aside his mistakes and were willing to move forward. Now, it all felt like a trick of the light, and with one step to the left, the illusion vanished. He should be used to it; people not wanting to stick around. 

His entire life has been about people not wanting to stick around. Luke, Groff. God, he really should be the poster child for Daddy Issues. 

He figures he should be grateful Groff didn’t stick around this time either, but his absence does nothing to put his worries to rest. JJ hadn’t seen Groff around, and he’d heard through Sarah that Groff had apparently been a part of some pyramid scheme Rafe fell victim to and skipped town. If that intel is correct, Groff must be furthering his search for the crown, which means he’d be distracted from returning for JJ. JJ doesn’t know if Groff will come back after finding the crown, but Groff has to know the police found the body, so maybe that means he’ll never come back to the Outer Banks. JJ — maybe for the first time in his life — really hopes Groff will be one of the people who doesn’t come back. The further away Groff stays from the island, the further away the stench of Lightner's body will be from you. And him. 

Throughout his life, JJ has tended to compare himself to Luke. He was so entranced by the concept of nature vs. nurture. He’d thought Luke was his blood, half his DNA. At the end of every internal debate, he’d come to the conclusion that it didn’t matter whether nature outweighed nurture in making a person who they were or not because all he’d ever known was Luke. If Luke’s blood was in his veins and Luke’s hand was the one that raised him, he had no choice but to turn into his father eventually. 

That all is changing now. Luke’s genetics hadn’t played any part in creating him, but he had raised him — raised maybe wasn’t how most would describe it, but it was Luke all the same. So, now, what won? Nature or Nurture? Was he Groff, or was he Luke? Was he both? 

Was his future going to be him constantly jumping between being a drunk and a con artist? Maybe he and Groff aren’t all that different. He’d known he was lying that day on the back road. JJ noticed how Groff talked faster when he told JJ he had locked JJ in to protect his son. He’d helped Groff anyway. Did that make him just as bad? 

 JJ, at sixteen, had been willing to go to any length to get any treasure they could. He’d been at the forefront of it all, leading the Pogues into this nightmare. He’d convinced Pope to abandon his academic dreams, which JJ knew were his only chance at stability. He’d let Kiara’s already contentious relationship with her parents worsen instead of letting them figure out their way over the bump of teenagehood. He’d let John B lose his father again. That rapacity seemed just as strong in Groff. 

Could JJ ever kill for money? He hadn’t thought he could. He’d tried being that man. The one who totes around guns and threatens dangerous men. In the end, he couldn’t follow through. But maybe there’d been a teenage version of Groff who hadn’t been able to follow through either. Then, somewhere along the way, maybe Groff had placed his finger against the trigger and finally pulled it. That could be JJ one day. 

Would life on The Cut, always in trouble and always full of want, turn him into a murderer. Could JJ kill his wife for money? JJ had pieced it together by now. The fact that Larissa Genrette’s death wasn’t the tragic but faultless result of a bad storm. His mother had been murdered. By his father. JJ used to wonder what his mom was like – the girlfriend Luke claimed skipped town when it got too much to take care of him. Now, the truth was settling into his bones, weighing him down more than ever. She hadn’t gotten tired of caring for him. She hadn’t looked at his face one last time and decided she’d had enough. 

She was taken from him by the man who was supposed to love him and love her but loved money more. JJ felt sick every time he thought of it, every time he imagined his mother’s decaying body in that tomb. Had she been in love with Groff? JJ has never been in love but wonders if he will someday be. Would he hurt that woman like Groff hurt his mother? 

A shiver runs up his spine as he realizes that you are his wife despite the unusual circumstances that have brought him to this point. It’s a borrowed title, not his to keep for you, but his for now. He doesn’t think he could put money above you. He’d promised you he was done with the treasure. After three years of being led by his thirst for more, he finally put down the glass, and it was in your name. In part, it’s because the reality of how dangerous this was was catching up to him, even if it was a few years too late. But mostly, it’s because that day, after he’d burned the knife, he’d been moved by the look on your face. Never in the past two years had he seen you so… rattled, helpless. Destroying the weapon Groff used had brought something out or maybe suppressed something in you, and you’d been turning to him for comfort. He can’t explain what it is that’s put a deep-seated desire to grant you that comfort, but he finds himself letting it take over. He let that need to protect you take him to the metaphorical altar, and he let it cause a rift between him and his best friend since kindergarten. 

Even now, when he’s having one of those rare moments where his anger is justified, he wants to go back in and keep the job search going. He wants to put your mind at ease. Be the kind of man who protects, provides, and does all the other domestic bullshit he knows he’s not cut out for. It terrifies him how easily he could slip into this part – the part of a doting husband – if he let himself. 

Realistically, he knows you both need jobs. He’s been trying to land something, but his reputation on the island’s never been too good, and the past few years have only made that worse. Every call he makes is met with the line being cut before he can say his last name or hesitant apologies – the latter are few and far between. He hasn’t even been able to lock down lawn-mowing gigs. Embarrassingly, he’d called the one listing searching for a dog walker and had also been rejected for that. It didn’t look like he could find a job, and he didn’t know how to tell you. 

Sighing, JJ takes out his phone from its spot in his back pocket to check the time. He’d been out here for an hour and a half without realizing it. He decides it’s time to bite the bullet and stands — careful not to stand to his full height in case anyone passes by the dock. When he enters through the door, he doesn’t expect you to still be sitting in the lounge area. But there you are — sitting on the rounded couch, your finger trailing down the page of the paper he’d left for you to find. You’re holding your phone in your right hand — an old iPhone 7 Kiara had lying around and had given you to use when you’d moved here. 

When he closes the door behind him, you flick your head up. Your eyes greet him with a flood of questions and something softer that he can’t place. 

JJ lifts his hands. “I was just outside the door. No one saw.” 

He watches your face fall a bit and wants to make his tone a little less irritated, but he’s always had a hard time not wearing his heart on his sleeve. Whatever he feels, always makes itself known. 

“Okay,” you reply quietly. You avert your gaze from JJ and return to the list in front of you. You don't say anything else, and JJ decides he should go wash up — anything to avoid being in this cage of awkward tension with you. 

Just as he’s turning, he hears you speak again, “JJ?”

JJ waits wordlessly for you to continue. 

“Do you want to go through these listings with me?” It’s not an apology. It’s not even an acknowledgment. It’s your emotionally suppressed version of an olive branch, though, and he wants to take it. If you’re stuck in this living arrangement for the unforeseeable future, you’ll have to be able to get along, or it’s going to be hell. 

JJ sits across from you, the table between you feeling like a safety net for potential fallout. You push the paper between you as you say, “I called the first five, and they’ve already been filled. Isn’t it weird that people actually respond to these listings?” 

JJ shrugs, knitting his brows together. “Not really. Pogues kinda survive off these things.”

“Oh,” you mumble. “Well, that explains why I’ve had no luck.” 

You and JJ start splitting up the listings, alternating between who takes each one unless you find one that seems like a perfect fit for the other. The process leaves you both in silence longer, only the occasional sound of the paper being pushed between you. But you break the stillness when you find an opening for a private surf instructor. 

You scoot around the couch, closing the space between JJ and you until your arm presses into his. You speak with your hands moving in a flurry, excitement seeping into your voice. 

“This is perfect for you,” You say, nudging your knee against his and tapping a spot on the paper. Your voice holds a note of confidence in him that almost makes him believe it, too. Almost. 

JJ hasn’t mentioned that he’s gone through almost the entire list and got turned away from this position the second they heard his name.

JJ doesn’t want to burst your bubble and watch your expression change if he tells you now. He’s worried it’ll only prove to you that JJ is poisonous and his reputation has not been left unscathed. Before he can explain why that position may not be the best fit, you’re already dialing the number and putting the phone on speaker. When the voice rings through the opposite end of the line, you look at him expectantly, waiting for him to introduce himself. You jostle his shoulder when he doesn’t say anything before giving him a funny look and speaking on his behalf. 

“Hi! My name is Y/N, and I was calling for your ad in the paper. The one for the private surfing instructor? Is it still open?”

He watches as you wait with bated breath like this one might be the one that sticks. Your anticipation makes his chest feel tight. He’d told you once, in passing, that he used to win free surfing competitions the OBX hosted when he was a kid. It was the only thing the Kooks who knew him ever gave him credit for. It never made them care about the boy behind the borrowed and battered board, but the brief applause he’d received made him feel like he was on top of the world. It’s why he still loved to surf as often as he could. It was one of the few things he knew he was good at. He was a great surfer, if not the greatest on the island. That just wasn’t enough right now.

“Ah, yes. Yes, it is. Are you interested?” The voice on the other end of the line belongs to a woman JJ’s never met but apparently knows him far too well. “My son Eric's in a bit of a phase but refuses to attend group lessons. If you’re willing, we can arrange a meeting and discuss everything.” 

“I am interested!” You remark and then correct, “Well, not for me. I have a friend who would be perfect for the job. You may have heard of him. JJ May—” 

“Absolutely not.” 

You pull the phone back from you, looking up at him with a confused pout that he tries not to pay too much attention to amid this chaos. “JJ Maybank? He’s a really great surfer. Won multiple competitions—”

“I already told your friend I will not give him this position. If he tries to reach me again, I will call the police.” With that, the line cuts, and you look up at him, your eyes full of confusion and a hint of something like remorse. JJ can’t look at you, so he turns back to the paper and clears his throat. He’s dialing another number, not sure exactly what it’s for, when your hand rests against his, pushing the phone out of the way. 

“How many of these people have you already called?” You ask. JJ considers lying and claiming the woman has no idea what she’s talking about, but he knows he’s lost any footing to make it believable. 

“Um,” JJ clears his throat again, shrugging. “All of them except the last three.” 

You’re quiet, then. He keeps his eyes trained on the table, still too ashamed to meet your eye. He wonders if you’ll be pissed he made you waste all this time. 

“Gross, why would you willingly talk to those assholes again?” JJ’s head snaps up, and your face is morphed into a comical expression of disgust. 

“Need a job,” JJ shrugs, not ready to test the waters of humor you seem to be threading, just in case he says the wrong thing. 

You nod then, “Not with people like that.” 

JJ’s never heard that before. As Pogues, there’s no being picky. There’s no sticking up for yourself. He’s always been taught to keep his head down and do as he’s told. He’s horrible at it, but that’s the advice he’s always been given. You’re the last person he’d expect to go against that type of thinking. Not only because you’re a Pogue like him but because you place survival above everything else. It’s like the mode you're permanently set to. There’s no place for pride and principles when a person’s just trying to get to the next day. 

“What choice do we have?” JJ lets his head fall back against the stiff leather of the couch, getting reminders of how uncomfortably he’s slept the past couple of nights. You mirror his actions, resting your head against the unforgiving surface only to pull your head back up with a wince. That makes JJ smile.  

“What’d you wanna be when you were younger?” You catch JJ off guard with your question. His fingers, which had been idly tapping against the table, still as he raises a brow at you. You’re waiting for an answer, your attention entirely on him, and he takes a moment to consider his reply. 

“Not really sure, if I’m honest. Never really had the chance to dream like that,” JJ tells you.

“Oh, come on,” You push, not buying his answer. You tilt your head as if that’ll do something to make him reconsider. “Every kid has dreams.”

There’s an earnestness in your eyes that reaches out towards JJ and squeezes his heart. He’s never admitted this to anyone, not flat out, but he finds himself wanting to tell you. “The shop, I guess. Since I was twelve. I used to sketch out pictures of how it would look in my textbooks and everything.” 

Your eyes gloss over, a film of sorrow that he knows matches his own, replacing the playful glint in your eyes. It still doesn’t feel real that you’ve lost the land. He watches as you reach out, and he squeezes it when you take hold of his hand. Despite any animosity, this pain is yours to share. 

“It was one hell of a dream.”

“Yeah,” JJ nods, shooting you a sad smile. “It was.”

A moment passes with the two of you sitting just like that, gazing at each other. Then, JJ asks, “What about you? What’s your dream?”

You look down, your lips bashfully turning up at the sides as if embarrassed by your answer. “I wanted to be a CEO.”

JJ lets out a laugh before he can stop himself, and your smile mirrors his, though you add an unimpressed roll of your eyes. “I’m being serious!”

“Oh, I’m sure. Making money off bossing people around? Checks out,” You scoff, but don’t deny it, and JJ knows you couldn’t even if you tried. “What kind of company would you run? I can’t see you in, like, fashion.”

You scoff again, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you say,  “Cause that’s the only thing girls can be in charge of?” 

“I don’t know. What else do little girls dream of?” 

“Oil and gas.” JJ stills at that, his mouth falling agape slightly. 

“What? Oil and gas? That’s some Kook shit if I’ve ever heard it. How’d you land on that?” JJ’s too caught up in how unlikely your answer is to catch when your expression shifts back to serious, but he sees the moment you try to pretend it didn’t happen. You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“Family business,” You say. JJ stills then, not exactly understanding what to make of your words. Family business, as in your family’s business? The one JJ knew nothing about. If your family was in an industry like that, that would make you… not the kind of Pogue he’d thought. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, breaking the silence he’s letting stretch over you two.

JJ shakes his head, “Like what?”

“Like, I’m not who you thought I was.” Your voice is more melancholic than JJ has ever heard, more than he ever thought it could be. You’ve never opened up about your past with JJ, not anything before you met Cleo. Your stories revolved strictly around that time, and he hadn’t even considered what came before that. It’s hard not to let it catch him off guard, but he doesn’t want to lose this moment to learn more about you. To learn you. 

“I, uh, it's just surprising, is all,” JJ clarifies. Then, in an effort to keep you talking, he asks, “Your parents were in oil and gas?”

“Y-yeah,” You hesitate, your fingers fussing with the edge of your shirt, a nervous habit JJ’s picked up on. “My dad’s side. It was a generational thing. My great grandfather, I think.” You chuckle, though it’s entirely humorless. “I used to say I’d be the first girl to take over the company.”

“How…” JJ wants to ask you how someone goes from that to this. How’d you end up with Terrance? Why didn’t you take over the company? But you're begging with your eyes for him not to finish that question, and he doesn’t want to see that forlorn look any longer. Instead, he settles on, “I can’t believe you’re a Kook.”

You give a half-hearted laugh. JJ searches his mind for anything else he can say, but he’s drawing a blank. The best he can come up with is, “So, like, were you the country club kind of Kook?”

You sigh and bite your lip. “Worse. So much worse.”

JJ shifts towards you, leaning in and genuinely interested in what you have to say. “Give it to me. I can handle it.” 

“I…” You give him a side eye that makes him want to laugh in this moment of faux seriousness. “I was in training to be the next season’s most sought-after debutant.” 

JJ blinks slowly, then lets out a disbelieving laugh, and you shove your shoulder against his. “No way. You?” Without thinking, he throws his arm out and rests it against the cushioned seat behind you. He’s still laughing at your displeasure as he says, “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine it. I mean, I’ve seen you punch grown men. I can’t line that up with dresses and tiaras.” 

Your laugh is soft, but JJ catches the way your eyes flicker like you’re shuffling through those memories. He’s watching you, trying to find the puzzle pieces he’s been missing. He always thought that if he had a life like that – full of money and stability – he’d never know what worrying meant. But you had that, and now you’re sitting here, sharing this cramped space with him. Something had to have gone horribly wrong for you to give up a life like that and end up here. 

“So, tell me, what were you like then? Did you actually enjoy that stuff?” JJ asks.

“Mmm, some of it. I liked wearing the dresses. Thought they made me look like a princess.” Your nose crinkles, like you feel silly admitting it. JJ had never seen you in a dress until the day of the wedding. Your style isn’t exactly edgy – mostly just plain, cropped shirts and well-fitted jeans – but it also didn’t scream hyper-feminine in a way JJ associated dresses with. “The other stuff… It's complicated.”

“How so?” JJ ventures to ask. He’s not sure you’ll answer with how evasive you’re being, but he still tries. 

“I guess,” You stop for a moment, and he can see you analyzing every possible choice of words before you speak them. Then you shake your head and say, “The dresses could get itchy sometimes.”

You’re deflecting, using humor to throw him off the scent of what you want to say. You’re not as okay as you’re trying to present yourself to be in this moment, but he won’t push. He won’t make you relive something you’ve clearly tried so hard to forget. For now, he’ll give you a little piece of him that he’s scared to let go of. A piece of honesty that he’s trying to bury. 

“You know, uh,” JJ starts, his fingers tapping against the cushion. “I’ve been thinking about it recently. What my life would’ve been like if I'd grown up a Genrette. Or, Groff, I guess.” 

You tilt your head as you say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” JJ nods. “Like, would I have met John B? I can’t imagine my life not being defined by him. It’s always kind of been like before him and after him.” 

“Wow,” you say, breathlessly. “That’s like really fucking beautiful, JJ.” 

JJ gives you a lopsided grin because he knows it sounds dramatic, but it’s also what he truly feels. Before John B, JJ was a seven-year-old left to his own devices too often for them to be considered safe. After John B, safety still wasn’t a facet of his life, but at least he wasn’t wandering alone. 

“I kind of feel that way about Cleo,” you offer. “I know what was before her, but after that, everything’s defined by her. I would’ve never followed Sarah and John B if she hadn’t decided it was best for us.”

“How can you find it in yourself to trust her so much?” 

You lean the side of your head against the cushion, but JJ hasn’t moved his arm, so you’re resting against him. You don’t move your head away, and JJ doesn’t move his arm away. JJ’s feet are firm against the boat floor, but his torso is twisted towards you. Sometime in the midst of this conversation, you’ve brought your legs up and tucked them beneath you, making your knees brush against his upper thighs. The two of you are so close to each other, wholly invested in what the other has to say, as the baton of vulnerability passes from one to the other. 

“Easy. I realized one day that her choices never ended badly for us. I trust her because she doesn’t give me the chance not to.”

JJ swallows thickly, his hand, which was resting against the cushion, now brushing against the top of your hair. He’s unsure where he gets the audacity, but he doesn’t take away his touch. 

“That’s kind of a high bar,” he says, trying to keep his vulnerability at bay and away from his voice. “Only trusting someone who gets it right every time.” 

“It’s the best I can do. I can’t afford to make mistakes.” 

There’s a thread of hope that JJ didn’t realize he had left that frays at that moment. Any chance of you ever learning to trust him seems to go out the small rectangular window above the lounge table. As long as JJ is precisely who he’s always been, you’ll never be able to trust him. 

Even with this reminder, he doesn’t find it in himself to want to pull back and put some distance between you. Instead, he stays right there, his fingers still deftly playing with the hair at the crown of your head. 

You shake your head, making your hair tickle JJ’s palm. “It’s not about getting it right every time.”

“No?” JJ asks. 

You shake your head again. “It’s about knowing that the mistakes won't ruin everything. That we’ll still be here after. Together.”

Your voice breaks at the last word, and JJ feels the crack extend into his heart. He doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or if you’re so caught up in being honest that you don’t realize, but you explain exactly why you haven’t been able to tolerate JJ. Until the property hearing, all of this felt like his fault. Bidding all that money at the auction and then betting the rest at the enduro? It was exactly what had proven to you that he didn’t deserve your trust. 

But you’re still together. Even if it’s just you two on this boat, it’s still a part of your family that hasn’t been taken away from you yet. He might be the last one you want. Maybe you don’t want him at all. But he could be the one to bring the rest of the pieces together. He doesn’t know what he can do, but he decides at this moment that he’ll figure it out and do whatever it takes. 

“Look, I—” JJ’s attempt at making you a promise he thinks you need to hear is cut short by the melodic ring of your phone. Your heads snap to the phone that lies forgotten on the table. You're getting a FaceTime call, Cleo’s name written in bold text across the top. 

As you pick up your phone, JJ expects you to get up and take the call in your room like you have every other day this week. Instead, you shift your body to face the table and pick up the call, but don’t move from your spot next to him. You swipe the answer button to the right, pushing the phone back so you’re both in the frame, and Cleo pops up on the screen. 

Cleo is lying her head against a red shirt he recognizes as Pope’s, and when she registers that JJ's there, too, she pulls back the screen so Pope is visible. 

“Woah-ho-ho,” Cleo sings. “Rudeboy, what’s up, man?” 

Despite the tense moment that JJ is still coming off of, he smiles at the nickname Cleo gave him. He’ll admit he kind of loves it. 

“Nothin’ much,” JJ replies. “What’s up with y’all?” 

“Just chillin’,” Pope adds, resting his head atop Cleo’s. “Didn’t think we’d catch you both in the same room.” 

You scoff next to him. “We live together. Why would we not be in the same room?”

Pope just hums and says,  “Y’all look cozy.” 

A warm flush of embarrassment creeps up JJ’s neck as he registers Pope’s words and your position. JJ badly wants to reach through the screen and slap the smirk off Pope's face. He considers moving his arm from behind you but then decides against it. Instead, he relaxes further into the seat, relishing how you press further into his touch just the slightest bit. It’s not enough for Pope and Cleo to notice through the camera, but he notices how your skin pushes further into his palm. 

“We were looking through job listings,” You tell them. 

“Hm, sounds boring,” Cleo says. 

“But necessary.”

“And necessary.”

You and Pope laugh at your synchronized speech. JJ’s head falls back with a dramatic sigh. 

“Great,” He groans. “Now, I’m stuck with two Popes.”

“How's the boat been?” Pope asks, his tone a little more serious.

“It’s been… manageable,” You say, looking up at JJ. “I’m glad we found it.”

 JJ easily understands the real meaning of your words. It’s your way of saying thank you. He gives you a gentle smile, and you return it with a subtler one. 

“Ooo, Kiara is pissed, by the way,” Cleo’s quip catches JJ’s attention pulling it away from you. He gathers she’s said something she isn’t supposed to by the way Pope quietly whispers ‘babe’ through the side of his mouth.  “What, it’s true!”

JJ doesn’t have to ask what she’s referring to because he already knows. You, on the other hand, likely have no clue why Kie’s upset. 

“At me? Why? What happened?” You ask, and JJ feels at fault yet again for something going wrong in your life. 

“Oh…” Cleo trails off. “Cause JJ said he didn’t want to stay on the boat? When she suggested it for the two of them?”  Cleo has always been a bit too blunt, but right now it’s really bothering JJ. 

“Huh?” You ask, but your attention is trained on JJ. “She wanted to come with us?”

“Uh, not exactly,” JJ mumbles, side-eyeing Pope and Cleo on the video call. “ That’s not what happened.” 

“Alright, well, I’m exhausted.” Pope is clearly finding an excuse to leave because it’s only five in the evening, but JJ lets it go, bidding the couple goodbye. Once the line clicks, JJ gets up from the couch, suddenly wanting to move his legs. 

“JJ?”

“Hm,” He hums.

“Why’s Kiara mad?” 

JJ sighs because he genuinely does not want to hash this out with you or anyone for that matter. Kiara’s anger – whether justified or not – has been something he’s been trying to ignore for the past week. He pushed it to the further corner of his mind, and it was easy until now. Everyone was so busy settling into their new places that he hadn’t seen her since the day she’d walked away from him. She’d suggested something he couldn’t bring himself to do, and his inability to follow through had severed something between them. Whatever existed between them, he felt it snap and morph into something much uglier at that moment outside their old house.  

“She…” JJ huffs out a breath of annoyance. At what he’s not sure. Himself, maybe.  “She suggested that we come to this boat. Like, just me and her. Before we found out about Sarah.” 

Your brows furrow as you consider this. “Like, instead of you going to Sarah’s?”

“Yeah.” JJ stops his pacing – the three-step shuffle he's been doing because the walls of this boat are so damn close. “She said it’d be… simpler.”

“Ah.”

“But I said no because… I don't know,” JJ lies.

 He told Kie that day, in the shadow of their old house, that he didn’t want to come back to this boat. The boat wasn’t just a way he made a quick buck when he was younger, but it’s where he’d seek refuge when things got especially bad with Luke. When the drunken insults were too much to swallow or the beatings seemed endless, he’d run away and seek shelter here. It was where he’d hide when the Chateau wasn’t an option—when Big John and John B were out of town or when the damage was so bad he couldn’t let anyone see him. Kie knew about it because sometimes, her or John B would find him here after he went AWOL for a couple days. 

But when he’d found out Sarah was pregnant, this was the first place he thought of. He thought he’d put the days of hiding out in this boat behind him, but for you he didn’t think twice about returning to this haunted cabin. 

“Ah,” You murmur again. You stand up but lean against the table, maintaining the distance he’s put between you two. “She can still come.”

JJ just looks at you in disbelief at your impossible suggestion. The boat is hard to manage between the two of you; adding a third person would be unmanageable.

“I can take the couch–”

“Y/N.”

“And you guys can–”

“There’s no–”

“Take the room. Then, when we start working–”

After you've thrown enough nonsense out, JJ crosses the space between you in one swift step, takes hold of your hands, and pulls you towards him. The sudden motion throws you off balance, and your eyes widen in surprise.

“Would you shut up?” Your look of shock from his abruptness changes to an indignant expression.

“Excuse me–”

“Kie’s not coming to stay with us,” JJ says firmly, unwilling to go down this line of thinking with you. 

“I don’t want to come between you both,” You say, your eyes shifting away from him awkwardly. It’s a conversation you both haven’t had yet. One he's been actively avoiding like he usually does with most challenging stuff. JJ’s not sure what he’d say if you did. He doesn’t exactly know where he stands with Kie or where he wants to stand with her, so he wouldn’t know where to begin explaining the situation to you. “She’s my friend.” 

“She’s my friend, too, " he concurs. "But our space isn’t big enough, and right now, I need to keep my focus on you.” 

The second the words leave his mouth, JJ wants to take them back. This isn't the first time he's expressed that he has your back in all of this, but this time it feels different. Heavier and bigger in a way than he's ready for. He can't describe the tug in his chest when he's looking at you like this - eyes tilted up at him in wait. It's different from the panicked knot he gets when spiraling, which usually makes him unravel. This tug feels like a call to action. And it's telling him to not let anything bad happen to you anymore.   

JJ knows he should say something to make his words seem like they mean less, but his brain short-circuits. For some reason, he doesn't feel as afraid as he should about wanting to be the one who keeps you safe. 

"Okay," you say, sparing him from finding the right words. 

"Okay." He repeats. He's not sure exactly what you're agreeing on. That Kie can't come? Or the fact that he needs you in his line of sight? But he knows he'll have to have that dreadful conversation with Kie soon. After that he'll have to figure out why when you step away from him, taking your touch with you, it feels wrong. 

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[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter four

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): references to mommy issues (reader), references to loss of a parent (reader), angst

author's note: i'm so so sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. it ended up being a bit harder than i expected. thank you for your patience! just a little warning i will be changing the pov in this series to 2nd person (working on fixing the other parts).

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When the Pogues were dividing the Maybank Property, you didn’t get closet space. Your room was an extra storage closet with just enough room to fit a twin bed, a mirror you’d mounted on the wall, and a small nightstand with two drawers. When you first arrived at the Outer Banks, after El Dorado, you had nothing except literally the clothes on your back, so you didn’t see the point in arguing for more space. Since the OBX has become your home, you’ve gotten more things– usually, having to ask Cleo to put some of your clothing in her and Pope’s closet– but not enough because you can’t find anything white right now. Not even jeans. Sarah had insisted that if you didn’t wear white, the whole thing would seem rushed– more rushed than it already seemed– and that every part of this production had to appear genuine. 

You’re still trying to figure out how Cleo convinced you to get married. When you left all the Pogues on the porch last night, there was no way you were going to marry JJ. It wasn’t just about JJ. Your unstable upbringing jaded your view on many things, and love was probably one of them. You didn’t doubt that love was real, and the last two years had taught you that it existed in abundance. But love was temporary, with a shelf life that only lasted until one party found something more important to stick their heart to. You haven’t given it much thought, to be honest, what you think of love now that you’ve found this version of a home. It seems contradictory to concern yourself with something as fleeting as love when you’ve finally stopped defining your life by trying to survive day-to-day. Instead, you’ve focused on the other relationships in your life. For the first time, in maybe ever, you have friends, plural. Loyal and lively friends. You also have adults who care about you without expecting something in return. You can show up at the Heywards’ door at an ungodly hour, and they won’t blink an eye. 

While you haven’t thought about love since settling down, you know exactly how you feel about marriage. 

Marriage isn’t just soft-spoken promises of I love you and forever; it is a transaction, a business deal and a power struggle made to look pretty with red ribbons of romance and confident vows of companionship. You had seen it yourself, watched as the winning smiles of the person you loved most had only ever been disarming grins all along. Marriage hadn’t stopped your mother from betraying your family, nor had it shielded you from pain. No, it had been the weapon your mother used to get exactly what she’d always wanted, even more than her daughter. It didn’t matter if the union is built on love because marriage is the issue's root. The legal entanglement makes people greedy, leaving their spouses a casualty of the games.

You don’t know how you feel about love, but you know that marriage is a trap you never expected to find yourself in. Yet, here you are, about to fall off the precipice of the very thing you fear. You are going to permit another person to pull you into this game by signing off on a dotted line. And you weren’t even in love. 

You find a beige skirt buried deep in a drawer of your nightstand and figure it’s close enough to white. You begin looking for a shirt when you hear a short knock followed by the door opening. Sarah walks in with her hair wrapped in a green towel, holding something in her hands. 

“You know,” You say, plopping down on your bed, relieved for this break from looking for an outfit. “Usually, people wait for a response when they knock.”

Sarah smiles, sitting on the bed and bumping her shoulder against yours. “Force of habit. I always used to barge into Wheezie’s.” Sarah’s expression is some mix of fondness and longing that makes you want to squeeze the girl who has become like a sister to you. Instead, you just slip your hand into Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze. If you stop to acknowledge every unfair thing life dealt all of you, you would never get anything done. Sarah nods at your other hand, where the beige skirt is balled in a fist. “No luck finding anything white?”

You shake your head with a groan. “No. It’s fine. Beige is close enough.”

“It is so not fine,” Sarah’s exasperation is completely unnecessary in your opinion, but you let her continue. “If we want to make all this believable, every detail counts. A girl marrying the love of her life would care that beige is not white.”

You give Sarah a sarcastic smile. “What about girls marrying a friend they can sometimes tolerate?” Sarah’s smile matches yours, but a line forms between her brows. 

“Hey, why are you stressing?” You reach up to smooth out the divot. “I’m the one getting married.” 

“No, it’s not that,” Sarah lets her denial sit between you two, not immediately offering any explanation. Her lips purse sideways, her brows furrowing further, a telltale sign that she is having difficulty keeping something to herself. Just as you expect, Sarah breaks without any additional pushing from you. “It’s just that… why are you so hard on JJ?”

“Are you seriously asking me that, Sar?” You roll your eyes, getting up from the bed. You walk towards your nightstand, training your focus on folding the useless skirt and putting it back in the bottom drawer. 

“Yeah, actually,” Sarah’s voice is serious, a tone she seldom uses. Unleashing her hair from the towel, Sarah throws it at your nightstand. “I am.” 

It only takes a minute for the skirt to be put neatly away, leaving you nothing to avoid Sarah and this conversation. You turn to face Sarah, whose eyebrows were now raised instead of furrowed. 

“Sarah, it’s like you guys forget everything he’s done.”

“Of course we haven’t forgotten, but we forgave him. That’s what friends do.” 

“You can’t forgive someone who hasn’t apologized,” You argue.

Sarah shakes her head, her eyes shifting to the ceiling as if she is in deep thought. “JJ…” Sarah trails off again, seemingly unable to explain herself. “He’s not good with words—”

You cut Sarah off with a scoff and cross your arms across your chest. “JJ is amazing with his words. He can get himself out of anything.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Sarah’s tone, while it remains serious, doesn’t match yours. She remains calm as she continues. “I used to get annoyed too, you know? When I first started dating John B, we were all so caught up in the Denmark treasure, but after a while, I noticed the same things you do. He was always getting caught up in some shit he’d start, and all of us somehow ended up stuck with him in whatever web he’d spun.” 

JJ and Sarah resemble siblings in more than appearances; they often fight just like you assume normal siblings would. Fights over things like the rules of a board game or stolen leftovers usually end at the beginning of wrestling matches, that John B has to stop by physically removing Sarah from the room. However, you have yet to see Sarah genuinely upset with JJ. The Pogues never really fight, so Sarah’s lack of anger isn’t out of the ordinary, but you could never picture a time when Sarah had felt differently about him. It could be how Sarah compensates for the loss of her siblings, but despite only being a few months older than JJ, she smothers him with the sisterly love Cleo gives you. 

“Yeah,” Sarah chuckles, reading the disbelief on your features. “But then there was this day after my dad died…the first time,” Sarah cringes as she says it, and you try your best to keep your face neutral because what were your lives? Sarah’s voice changes, looking down at her hands as she continues. “His death had put JB and me in a weird place. I needed him to understand my grief, but to him, the man who’d taken his father from him was dead. At that point, I was sort of still just his girlfriend. Kie and I had just started talking about our history. JJ and Pope had no loyalty to me.

“But JJ snuck onto Tannyhill just to see if I was okay. Brought some flowers he’d picked from our yard and everything. He hated Ward almost as much as John B, but he still showed up for me. I remember Rafe almost caught him cause JJ had tripped the security alarm, and I had to convince him it must’ve been a fluke. That’s who he is. He makes mistakes, just like us, but he shows up. Sometimes more than the rest of us.” 

You don’t know what to say in response. JJ supporting Sarah is sweet, but it isn’t unexpected. You know how fiercely he shows up for the Pogues, and you undoubtedly admire that about him. It doesn’t change the fact that he is impulsive, and it seems like his impulsivity is reaching a point of no return. 

“Sarah, It’s not that I don’t know JJ’s a good guy. I do,” You sit down next to the blonde. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re still getting caught in the web.”

“People make mistakes, Y/N/N. The rest of us have, and you’ve always forgiven us. What’s so different about JJ’s mistakes?” You don’t need to think of your answer. 

“This is all I have.” 

“The shop?” Sarah asks. 

You shake your head, the nape of your neck heating up as the cost of being vulnerable. “You. The Pogues.” You will yourself not to let your voice shake. To you, every wrong decision JJ makes threatens the Pogues’ chances of staying together. This family that has somehow fallen into your lap— a gift after years of misfortune— seems to be hanging by a thread recently. 

Sarah’s expression softens, and you could laugh at the speed with which your friend’s eyes fill with tears. With all her cheek and confidence, Sarah is still the softest person you know. 

“Then you and JJ are more alike than you think,” Sarah says simply. She quickly brushes the tears that have fallen and clears her throat. “Sorry. I didn’t come in here to berate you. I came to bring you this.” Sarah reaches back on the bed, where she’d dropped the black bag she’d walked in with. It’s a garment bag. Sarah stands from the bed and unzips the bag in her hands. 

“I stole this one of the times I snuck into Tannyhill… is it called stealing if it’s literally yours?” Sarah’s usual cheer appears to have returned, and no trace of your earlier conversation is left. “Anyway, it’ll definitely do the trick.” 

Sarah carefully pulls a mess of white fabric from her bag. The dress, in true Sarah Cameron fashion, is gorgeous. It has a drop-waist silhouette that will hug the body perfectly before flaring into a soft skirt. The skirt is covered by a delicate, thin layer of netting that compliments the suggestive top half with a whimsical touch. The outline of flowers are scattered across the skirt, only enhancing the graceful look. Instead of sleeves, the dress is held together by thin, dainty straps, and the dress will likely end a little above your ankles, making it the perfect blend of romantic and laid-back.  

Simply put, the dress is beautiful. 

“You stole this? When the hell were you going to need--” You stop speaking as you are hit with the obvious. Sarah's reason for initially buying this dress doesn’t matter, because it’s glaringly obvious why she deemed it necessary to take and bring back to your house. “No way. I’m not wearing this.”

“Why not? It’s the perfect elopement dress,” Sarah whines, holding it against your frame. 

You push the dress away from your body. “Yeah, for you. It’s your elopement dress.”

“John B. and I are already married,” Sarah shrugs. 

“Sarah.” 

Sarah rolls her eyes. “Fine, yes, I stole this to wear when JB and I get legally married, but it’s fine! I’ll buy another dress when that time comes. This was originally gonna be my midsummer’s backup. It’s nothing fancy.”

“This is your backup?”  You ask, only receiving a shrug from Sarah. “Sar, why would you give me this for a sham wedding? It’s such a waste.”

“I don’t feel like it would be,” Sarah responds. Cryptic…

“And why not?”

“Does it matter? Look, you have nothing else to wear, and we have to leave in an hour,” Sarah huffs. “Just think of me as your fairy godmother and accept the miracle.” 

“Sar—” Just as you are going to protest another time, the door opens again. Cleo walks in, a bag of chips in one hand. 

“You ready yet,” Cleo mumbles around the chips she is chewing. After taking in your appearance, she sighs and swallows before speaking again. “Why are you not ready yet?” 

“Cause there’s still an hour.” Why are they all acting like this is a real wedding? It doesn’t matter how you look as long as you sign the damn papers. “I was about to change.” You look over at Sarah, who has a knowing smile on her face, and you groan. “Give me that.” 

“Careful!” Sarah chastises as you grab the dress out of her hands. Walking towards the door, you open it with a tilt of your head to indicate the other two should get out. 

“Since when do you care about privacy when you change?” Cleo asks, slumping against your bed.

“Just give me a minute.” When she realizes you are being serious, she makes eye contact with Sarah and finally gets up to leave. Once the other two girls have left, you sit on the bed, your bedding a bit crumpled from all the movement it has just endured. This is it. After you put on this dress, you will sign off the rights to your life. You know that logically, you have until you sign the dotted line, but putting on this dress is like putting up a white flag and admitting that you surrender to this convoluted plan and being tied to JJ indefinitely.  

You let your shorts and crop top fall to the floor, replacing the clothing on your body with the dress. Looking in the mounted mirror on your wall, you can only see your reflection from the chest up. It gives you that familiar itch to curl into yourself. You look so much like your mother like this. In a fancy dress, your hair still pulled up from when you’d tied it back. It was so poised and elegant, a look you desperately wanted to pull off as a kid but wanted nothing to do with now. Yet, even with all the comparisons you can draw between yourself and your mother, you can’t deny it makes you feel pretty. Even just the top half of the dress fits you so well, and it makes you nostalgic for a time when pretty dresses were your only worry. 

Taking just a minute longer before you let Cleo and Sarah back in, you pull your hair down. Your hair spills over your shoulders, softening your features and making you look younger. You aren’t ready to look that much like your mother. 

Sarah had insisted on getting you fully ready for today’s events. You were no stranger to makeup but usually you stuck to mascara and concealer. Sarah had pulled out all the stops. While keeping your base relatively simple, she’d added blush, lipstick, and even eyeliner to “give the full effect.” She had even pulled your hair back up into a bun, and as much as you wanted to fight against it, you figured avoiding the mirror would be easier than arguing.

The Pogues had created a plan for the entire day to try to convince the residents of Kildare that the nuptials between you and JJ were as true as the sky was blue. John B and Sarah would accompany you and JJ to the courthouse to handle your ruse's legal and most crucial component, while the rest of the Pogues would set up a “surprise” reception in the Heywards’ backyard. The reception had been Pope’s idea because, according to him, his parents were too close to JJ and you to not need the extra convincing that this whole thing was real. You had doubts that Pope was just finding ways to make this more entertaining for himself. 

Once Sarah and Cleo had finished helping you get ready, you’d decided to stop by the charter shack. JJ was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found, and you had some time to kill before heading to the courthouse. Initially, you’d wanted to find Kie. Whatever connection Kie and JJ had wasn’t lost on you, and you’d been overthinking your very much overdue conversation since last night. Even though you didn’t feel like you were wronging Kiara, since from what you’d gathered, JJ and Kie weren’t anything serious, it still felt like you owed her some form of acknowledgment. When you’d asked Cleo if she’d seen Kiara, she had let you know that Kiara had gone to her parent’s house a bit earlier, making it impossible for you to have that conversation. 

Instead, you figure you’ll take the time to be alone. It’s what you always do when you can’t process your emotions. Is it the healthiest coping mechanism? No. But at least you know you do it. The shack is the closest you can get to quiet in a house with six other roommates, so you’re headed that way. As you climb the familiar footsteps, you think of the last time you’d been here. It had only been two days, but that night with JJ feels like a lifetime ago. You’d somehow compartmentalized discovering Ligthner’s body, becoming an accessory to a crime, and being questioned by the police in a way that anything before it all felt like a distant memory. 

“That’ll be 3.99,” JJ’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you stand by the shack's open door. JJ stands behind the register in his usual uniform of cargo shorts and a graphic tee. He reaches out his hand to a middle-aged man, not noticing that you are standing there to witness his interaction. 

JJ divies up the change before sticking out his hand to offer it to the patron, “Here you are, sir–” At that moment, JJ looks to his side, immediately doing a double take when he sees you. He falters, missing the customer’s hand entirely and spilling the change against the counter and the floor. The polite smile that JJ had worked to perfect slips off his face, his lips parting and his eyes clouding over. You can’t decipher the storm brewing in his eyes, but it sends a flutter through your belly as you meet his stare. The movement of the customer scramming to pick up the dropped change, which JJ had dealt in a comical amount of coins, catches your attention, but when you look back at JJ, he is still looking at you. With a heat that seems to burn right through you straight to your spine. 

“JJ,” you whisper, drawing his eyes from where they had been trailing down your figure and back to your face. You shift your head towards the man crouched to gather the fallen change. JJ seems to finally return from wherever his mind had ended up and quickly rounds the corner. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” JJ says, crouching to help. “That was an accident,” He apologizes again as he hands the last of the change back to its rightful owner. 

“Don’t worry,” the man winks. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He gives you a knowing look that makes you flush as he passes and leaves the shack. If he only knew. 

“Hey,” JJ mumbles, the heat in his eyes subdued. “You’re ready?

“We’re supposed to leave in twenty minutes,” you reply. “Sarah was getting restless. I think she just sees this as an opportunity to play dress-up.”

JJ chuckles, moving closer to you. “Yeah, I think John B’s choosing which one of his button-ups I’m gonna wear right now.” JJ’s eyes begin to trail back down your body, his tracking slow and that cloudy look returning to his eyes.“You look…” 

You try your best to ignore how his throat bobs when he swallows, unable to fill the gap in his words. The pooling nerves in your stomach spread, moving dangerously low. That feeling isn’t good– not now, not with him.

“Like a bride?” You try to joke, but it comes out breathy and wrong. 

JJ attempts to laugh, but it is more like a sharp exhale. Suddenly, his hand reaches behind your head, gripping the elastic band holding your hair in place. In a swift movement, he pulls your hair free of its constraints, and it falls in waves over your shoulders.  

“Better,” He whispers, and you feel an unfamiliar ache in your chest. Whatever peculiar reaction JJ is having to seeing you in a white dress needs to be stopped. 

Clearing your throat, you speak up. “You think this’ll fool everyone?”

That does the trick because JJ chuckles before pulling his arm back. “Between this and the three-act play Sarah’s putting on for the Island, we should be in the clear.” You laugh, agreeing with him. 

“What are you doing out here anyway? I figured we’d keep the shop closed today,” You ask, grabbing a Snickers bar from a shelf. 

JJ snatches the Snickers bar from your hands, ignoring your protests. “I figured I’d keep the shop open for a bit. You were right before about us needing the business.” You don’t say anything; you watch as JJ tears into the chocolate bar. Eventually, he passes the bar back to you with a shit-eating grin. 

Narrowing your eyes, you take the bar back. Then, you tore a piece of Snickers off and plop it in your mouth. After a few minutes, neither you nor JJ move to leave, and you speak up again. “Are you ready for this?”

JJ laughs humorlessly, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You rub your lips together, unsure how much you want to give away what is running through your head. JJ is the only other person who can relate to you, but being vulnerable is never easy. JJ’s expression changes, his eyes softening.  

“I’m scared, too,” JJ says. You want to argue, convince him that you aren’t scared. You want to make him think that you are angry and annoyed and displeased beyond belief because admitting you are scared means admitting there is something with enough power to take you down. You stay silent. You can’t bring yourself to lie to him, but instead, you feel yourself move closer to him. You don’t say anything, just let your invasion of his space speak for itself. JJ continues for you.

“I’m worried that all of this’ll be for nothing. We’ll get caught, and it’ll just make the inevitable worse.” Too lost in understanding the look in his eyes, you don’t notice JJ reaching out until his hand catches ahold of yours. For the fiftieth time in three days, JJ touches you like you’re his, his thumb stroking your fingers, and it’s getting harder not to let it make you dizzy. The whole marriage thing must really be going to your head because you can’t help but feel like the weight of his thumb keeps returning to your ring finger. “But I promise you, I’m going to make sure I don’t let it touch you. Any of this.” 

 “I don’t want it to touch you either.” 

You aren’t sure if you meant it, and you are even less sure what compels you to say it. JJ gives you a slight smile that does nothing to ease your newfound worries, “You don’t worry about me, okay? I’m gonna get you out of this safe.” 

You want to argue with him and tell him that he needs to make it out safely, too, but a distant yell interrupts your train of thought before you can reply. 

“JJ, COME DOWN! I GOT YOUR CLOTHES!” 

JJ pulls back, his sad, self-deprecating smile disappearing. “I’ll see you at the finish line, I guess.” He sticks out his hand, his smile changing to the mischievous one that always looks best on him. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s do this,” You smile, reaching out to shake his hand. “But after you take a shower.” 

You aren’t very superstitious, but today you want to be. Your dad had been extremely superstitious, always telling you to beware of black cats and search extra hard for four-leaf clovers. Today, you want to believe that things like a lucky number or knocking on wood can fix up a promising future for you. The weather is pristine – the sun bright and pleasant in the company of a light breeze. The weather is the textbook definition of a perfect day. If it had been your actual wedding day, you would probably have considered yourself unbelievably lucky. 

You want to cling to that belief as John B, Sarah, and JJ walk to the courthouse doors. This is it, the metaphorical calm before the storm. Sarah squeezes your hand tight as you reach the courthouse. You had taken hold of her hand in the Twinkie and hadn’t let go since. 

“This is it,” John B says, wiping his hands against his pants. 

JJ tilts his head, offering a brief nod, “Yup.”

“Do you guys have rings?” Sarah asks, and you want to groan. She is taking this entirely too seriously, and it does nothing to calm your nerves. 

“Sarah, we’re nineteen-year-old Pogues. I highly doubt anyone expects us to have rings,” JJ said, and you hadn’t ever been this thankful for him… ever. 

Sarah rolls her eyes, offering you one more squeeze of her hand before letting go. She walks up the five steps of the courthouse building and opens the door for the rest of the group. You and JJ follow John B. and Sarah’s lead as they talk to a few people to see where they should go. John B had called as soon as the courthouse’s office had opened in the morning, but it seems a bit pointless since there aren’t many people around. That helps with your nerves a little. Not having an audience will make some of this easier. 

JJ, unlike earlier, is the picture of ease. He had put on a pair of John B’s khakis and a pale blue button-down, looking so unlike himself. His messy blond hair, not a trace of gel visible, is the only thing that reminds you that you are about to marry JJ Maybank. He leans against the counter in front of the plexiglass like it’s the counter back at the shop and speaks to the clerk as if he is an old family friend. He handles giving the clerk all the information required, only turning to you for your license – which you’d thankfully gotten a couple of years ago. He is so… JJ about the whole thing. Playing the part so well, as if it’s just another one of your schemes. Eventually, the clerk passes a stack of papers through the opening at the bottom of the glass and speaks into his mic. 

“Once you’re ready, we’ll need your signatures on each page, and then you’ll sign this.” He passes a yellow file folder with a paper sticking through the gap. “And that’s it. You’ll be officially married.”

Your fingers shake as you reached forward to pick up the yellow folder. The portion of the paper sticking out says ‘marriage license’ in beautiful, cursive font. You are surprised you aren’t numb to the nerves twisting around your stomach by this point. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” the clerk says, turning away to his computer. You look up at JJ and then behind him at Sarah.  

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” Sarah assures you, but it doesn’t help. Her words can’t dissuade the nagging voice in your head saying that you are signing up for your life to become a game. 

“Hey,” JJ turns to look at Sarah and John B before grabbing the papers from the counter and your hand. He leads you both to a brown bench at the edge of the room, sitting you down. He takes a moment to look around him before crouching in front of you. “I know this is hard, but…” 

“We have to.” You fill in. JJ shakes his head immediately. 

“No, we don’t. Somehow, this crazy idea makes sense, but that doesn’t mean we have to. If you say no, then we’ll figure out another way. No one will be mad, and none of this will be your fault.” 

“You wouldn’t be mad?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t. You’re doing me a favor.” You look at JJ, knelt before you, a hand placed next to your thigh. He is utterly at your mercy and still giving you an out. No pressure, no fallout. Looking at him, you know what you have to do. 

“No, I’ll do it.” JJ looks at you as if to ask, “Are ​​you sure?” You nod in reply. “Give me a pen.” 

JJ stands up, sitting down next to you. He pulls out a pen from his pocket, and you want to joke about how domesticated the fact that he’s switched out his lighter for a pen is, but all you can bring yourself to do is swallow down the deep breaths of air you are taking in. JJ flipped through each sheet in the stapled stack of papers, signing one line before passing the pen to you and repeating. He signs, then you sign. He signs, then you sign. You focus on that pattern through all six sheets, and the flow was only disrupted when JJ waves John B and Sarah over to sign on the witness sections. When JJ finally pulls out the marriage license from its folder, you though you would have reacted less to it. It was just another four lines, but you still feel its weight as JJ prepares to sign it. You don’t move your eyes from JJ’s calloused hand– focusing on how his hand moves as he glides the pen over the paper, the sound of the pen clicking when he is done, the sharp crinkle of the paper as he holds it out for you. You try to focus on anything that would distract you from the actual act of signing the papers. 

“Wow,” John B whistles. “You guys are married.” 

You look up at him, JJ, and the signed papers in front of you. JJ’s face is paler than usual, but there is no indication of what he is thinking. You try to smile at Sarah, but you can feel it comes out more like a grimace. 

“Alright, you two,” John B says, as the Twinkie near Pope’s parent’s place. “This is when it all matters.”

You want to laugh. It didn’t matter when you were manipulating the government? 

“Everyone here needs to believe that you two are surprised by this party, but more than that, they need to believe that you’re in love,” You roll your eyes. He doesn’t have to spell it out so much. “That means you need to go full Jarah.”

“Excuse me?” You ask. “What’s a Jarah?”

“Oh God, JB,” JJ groans, his head falling back against the seat cushion. “That’s cringe even for you.” You glance at John B’s smug grin and Sarah’s love-struck gaze, and you groan. 

“Is that y’alls couple's name?” You ask. 

“The kids call it a ship name,” John B shrugs. 

“You’re so unbelievably lame,” You nod at JJ’s words, your posture mirroring his as you rest your head against the seat. 

“Maybe, but I’m also serious. You need to look like a newly wedded couple, which means lots of PDA.” 

You look at JJ, who seems just as displeased as you feel. JJ has been quiet since you got in the car, and there is no sign of the boy who’d talked you through the hardest decision of your life.

“So when we get to the backyard, be holding hands and biggggg smiles. Got it?” You regret any time you’d privately praised John B’s leadership skills. JJ is the first to exit the car, closing the door once all of you have gotten out and following behind the group. When you reached the fence of Pope’s childhood home, JJ’s entire demeanor shifts. His shoulder raise, a small smile paints his lips, and you swear his cheeks somehow turned redder. He places his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it. 

You walk hand in hand through the makeshift fence Heyward must’ve built years ago, the sound of music and the smell of barbecue filling your senses. As people begin to come into view, your jaw drops. Except it isn’t an act because you are in genuine shock. You’d assumed the party would consist of  Pope’s parents, maybe Kie’s, and a couple of JJ’s acquaintances from high school. What you hadn’t expected was for what seemed like the entirety of The Cut to be populating Heyward’s backyard. From JJ’s expression, he also didn’t expect to see this many people. 

The crowd erupts in cheers, chants of the couple’s names being heard from various corners. You feel JJ’s hand tighten around yours, but when you look at him, he seems to melt into the noise. His lips round into a cheer and settle into a wide grin as he takes in the crowd. In this crowd, JJ is in his element. With the attention, noise, and chaos, he can guide you through the rest of the evening and you can have the chance of getting out of this without being caught. You follow JJ’s lead, smiling brightly, and feel relieved when Cleo came to give you a big hug. 

“Who knew you were such a great actress,” You mumblw to Cleo, who is holding onto you with a death grip.

“The hug’s not because I’m happy for you,” Cleo whispers back. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. But it’s all going to be okay.” When she pulls back, you don’t have the time to sit in that moment with Cleo because all your friends follow her lead.  

“JJ,” You and JJ look up to see all six feet something of Mr. Heyward standing in front of you and you immediately feel your palms dampen. This interaction will possibly be the hardest one to sell. 

“Heyward,” JJ lets go of your hand and throws his palm out to shake the hand of someone you know has played the part of a father to him. You wonder if lying to Heyward might be one of the more challenging parts for JJ, but if it is, he doesn’t let it show and instead plays the part he has to effortlessly. “Thanks for all of this,” He makes a show of taking in his surroundings and letting out a low whistle. “It means a lot.” 

Heyward’s expression is painfully untrusting, and you wish you could wither away when he turns to look at you. Over the past two years, as Pope and Cleo’s relationship transitioned from platonic to damn near a married couple, you had frequented the Heywards’ house almost as much as Cleo. When you’d returned from Poguelandia, Heyward had housed you without a second thought, and ever since then, he’d treated you like his own. Lying to him feels worse than a betrayal, even if you’re sure he would understand the situation. Well, maybe not the entire situation. 

“Sure was surprised when I heard Pope tell me this was happening,” Heyward says. The glare he would give you kids whenever he knew something was amiss, boring into you. 

You must look like a fish out of water with your mouth opening and closing, searching for an adequate response. Luckily, JJ speaks up for both of you. His arm rounds across your shoulders as he draws you closer to him. 

“I know it’s hard to believe., but when you know, you know, right?” 

Heyward hums, his arms crossing across his chest and then uncrossing again. Pointing his finger, he says, “You know, I’m just not sure how I didn’t see this happening, is all.”

JJ leans in towards you, making a show of failing to whisper, “I’m sure he doesn’t see a lot of things nowadays–”

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh, lil shit,” With that, Heyward is back to his usual level of annoyance with JJ, and you can breathe a little easier. “Y/N, you got anything to say?”

You clear your throat, “It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m really happy.”

You don’t look at JJ as you say it and know you needed to, but lying has never been your strong suit. When you and Cleo were still with Terrance, you usually worked in the shadows while Cleo set up the distractions in the spotlight. It was easier for you that way. This whole wedding sham had made the two of you switch roles, and you didn’t have enough time to prepare. 

“I don’t know what whirlwind you’ve found yourself in now, but I’m sure I don’t need to teach you that marriage is no joke.” If only Heyward knew how deeply familiar you were with the fact that marriage was anything but humorous. “Be smart. And you,” Heyward looks back at JJ, his features stern. “Be good to her. Or Cleo and I won’t leave a body to be found.”

You finally laugh at that, and in a moment of feeling genuinely carefree, you wrap your arm around JJ’s torso. You wouldn’t have even noticed you did it if JJ hadn’t brushed the bare skin of your shoulder and drawn your attention to just how close you are. Despite your unusual affection, neither of you moves from your entanglement. As you move around the party, meeting acquaintances and a couple of JJ’s cousins, you think you could’ve sold the whole thing with how close you two are. You doubt you were Sarah and John B’s level of affectionate, but even if JJ had been the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be the kind of person to have that much of a public display anyway. 

The sun will begin setting soon, and as you look around the backyard, you feel nostalgia for something you have never had. Weddings were one of those things so many girls grew up dreaming about, spending hours thinking up the dress of their dreams and how they’d decorate their venue. You never had the chance to think of those things, but looking around you, you think maybe this is precisely what you would’ve asked for. The decorations are as simple as they could be. Cleo and Pope have strung some fairy lights– probably Kie’s– through a few trees and from the roof's ledge. It’s cook-out style for food– grills being manned by dads and barbecue being served fresh to each person. Music is playing in the background, but it wasn’t a perfectly curated playlist of love songs. From what you’ve heard since you walked in, it was probably just the playlist Pope usually put on when he got speaker control during hangouts. It is the most Pogue, life on The Cut-esque wedding, but it is more than enough for you. For a minute, you close your eyes and pretend this is a party being hosted for any other reason, sending a fuzzy feeling from your heart throughout your body. It is all you’ve ever wanted. To be loved, to belong. It doesn’t matter how you got here, but you had.  

The upbeat tempo of a Kendrick song is replaced by the much slower tempo of an unsettlingly familiar song. The opening notes of Can’t Help Falling In Love ring through the settling crowd, the blend of the piano and electric guitar muffling Heyward’s voice as he calls you and JJ to the center of the yard. You barely process the awkward look JJ shoots you, too distracted by the churning feeling in your stomach, returning more vigorous than it had all day. You hate this song. There are too many memories of watching your parents dance around the kitchen while Elvis played in the background. You used to watch them in awe of the love they shared, the way your father would melt into your mother’s arms. It was almost like the song had created a self-fulfilling prophecy about how your parents' relationship would play out. A love that had felt as sure as the flow of the river to the sea had taken your father’s life. It had taken your life. 

JJ’s hand leads you to the clearing all the onlookers have created as he mumbles about having no choice. You look around, all these people who would never know what you are thinking. You are thinking about this life that you dreamed of a couple of years ago and many years before, you wouldn’t have understood. That girl watching her parents in the kitchen wouldn’t have understood any of this, and your heart breaks for her in a way that it never has before. It is making it difficult to push past the pounding in your ears and the bile rising in your throat. JJ’s free hand comes to rest on your waist, and when your eyes met, he gives you a tense smile. 

Your right hand rests on his shoulder, mindlessly mirroring how you’ve seen your parents do this a hundred times. JJ, you soon find out, isn’t much of a dancer. His steps are clumsy, either too wide or too short. He tries to lead your movements, picking up on how you’ve gone rigid, but he lacks just as much fluidity. You know what the crowd is expecting. They want to see magic, the tender moments between two young people looking forward to every joyful second of their intertwined lives. The way you and JJ are moving is the polar opposite– the stiff movement highlighting how out of sync you two truly are. JJ’s movements are harsh and rushed, and you are grateful that he has switched out his workboots for a pair of John B’s Converse because, in a span of two minutes, he’s stepped on your toes three times. 

“Shit– sorry,” JJ mumbles, his covered foot landing on your toes a fourth time, effectively making you wince. He is so focused on his missteps that he likely isn’t noticing the judgemental side glances you are receiving from the crowd, but you do. Something about the combination of your embarrassment and the painful memories of your youth has your eyes welling with tears. You don’t cry. Not just in front of others, but never. It’s like your tears had dried up all those years ago, but now, with this stupid, stupid song playing, you can’t stop them. 

“Swear I’m not usually–” JJ stops his defense when he looks at you, his eyes widening. The tears haven’t fallen, but it is probably evident with how close JJ is to you. JJ looks around, snapping his head in various directions until he finally finds whatever or whoever he is looking for. He twists his pointer finger in a circular motion twice, and you notice Pope quickly shuffling with his phone. The music doesn’t change immediately, and JJ keeps his hands firmly against you, but he slows his swaying. Instead, he holds you still and pulls you into his body. It’s like he is trying to shield you from everything outside the two of you, and you take refuge in his arms without a second thought. He whispers against your temple, “I got you.” 

The haunting melody of Can’t Help Falling In Love is finally replaced with the rhythmic, upbeat tune of My Girl by The Temptations. JJ, firmly pressed against you, pulls back quickly and lets out an unrestrained “WOO!” He snaps in tune with the music, his movements much more liquid than earlier. The weight of the earlier song still feels like it is being pressed against you, but the energy of this song is entirely different, and it seems to infect JJ. He has a cheeky grin and looks just like the charming-to-a-fault boy you know despite the clothes that don’t belong to him and the rare bursts of softness you’ve witnessed today. 

“I’ve got sunshine,” He sins along with Ron Tyson, and if it had been any other artist, you might have thought he was giving them a run for their money. His voice is smoother than you would’ve expected. He doesn’t have the voice of a trained vocalist, but his North Carolina accent mixed with the natural timbre of his voice makes for something captivating. The smile he’d brought to your face grows as he steps towards you, his shoulder moving in time with the song. 

“I guess you say,” He continues, his eyebrows raised with intention as he looks at you. Your laughter bubbles over, already knowing where he is headed with this. “What can make me feel this way?” 

You make a show of annoyance with his antics, but as he takes your hand and spins you around three times– once for each time Tyson sings ‘my girl’-- your delight is unfeigned. After the third spin, JJ crosses your arms in front of you, hauling your back against his chest. You peer up at him over your shoulder, your noses brushing, and his grin is like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. 

The crowd has begun to join you on the makeshift stage, but you are too caught up in the song and how much fun you are having with JJ to care. These are the moments you remember from Poguelandia, which feel like a lifetime ago now— the carefree feeling JJ brought to your life that you had desperately needed then. 

JJ’s antics only get more humorous when the song's instrumental part begins to play. He uses the opportunity to do his infamous two-step, shooting you a cocky smirk and throwing his arms out at either side of him, inviting competition. 

“That all you got?” You ask, and JJ made a show of stepping back and offering you the floor. You aren’t sure what you are doing, but you take the space and let your hips move in tune with the music. The song isn’t seductive by any means, but it is groovy, and you felt confident in how your body moves with it. From the impressed look on JJ’s face, he seems to agree, and you giggle as he inces closer slowly, wrapping a loose arm around your waist. 

As the song reaches its final verse, John B and Sarah have made their way over to you. JJ and John B look at each other, tilting their heads in unison and pointing at each other. Suddenly, JJ is spinning you over, and John B takes ahold of your hand. John B is a much worse singer than JJ, but your laughter isn’t deterred for even a moment as he leads you through the rest of the dance. You make eye contact with Sarah, who shoots you a wink and lovingly rolls her eyes when JJ spins her. John B follows suit by turning you in towards him, whispering in your ear. 

“That had to sell it.” 

taglist: @theater-bitch @ayy1234567 @tpwkyarely @loves animals0000 @B3rryb3t @mvaldez7821 @ummmmokaynotme @velyssaraptor @chloemaybank @sandaltoesocks @thexplosivegirl @rudypankowisbae @marleymarleymarleymarley @snowtargaryen @awurtzx06 @yumwhy @rudypankowisbae @kanpaeki

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter two

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): mentions of blood (finger cut), mansplaining 🤢, angst

author's note: second chapter! sort of a filler chapter while we see a glimpse into jj and reader's relationship. the plot picks up the next chapter. also thank you so much to the lovely people who already joined the taglist, i hope i don't disappoint <3

join the taglist | series masterlist

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“Come on, you piece of crap,” Y/N mumbled, falling back on her hands and giving her knees the relief she needed from squatting for the past fifteen minutes. She groaned as she removed the flashlight lodged between her teeth. The generator for the charter shack had shut down in the afternoon but with all the Pogue’s campaigning to get people to show up to the impending courthouse hearing, the shop had been closed and no one bothered fixing it. 

Y/N looked out to the water, staring at the moon as it hung low over the water. She hadn’t wanted to come out here to fix the generator, much preferring the comfort of the hammock she had been lying in, but she doubted anyone else was thinking about it. If she didn’t get this thing working tonight, the lights would be shot for the early-morning charters, and JJ would never let anyone hear the end of just how much business they were losing – even though he could’ve been out here trying to fix the problem.  

As much as Y/N wanted to try to repair the generator with a begrudged attitude, she knew she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit JJ was partly why she was out here so late. She didn’t hate JJ Maybank, not by a long shot. Y/N believed hatred should only be reserved for people with dark hearts, full of evil and malice. JJ was not only far from that level of rotten but also a good guy. In her heart of hearts, she knew he was probably one of the best guys on this island. But knowing someone wasn’t a bad person didn’t mean you had to like them all the time. 

And God had she spent the last few months severely disliking him. She just wasn’t the type of girl who could exercise enough patience when someone like JJ ran amok. John B had told her a few times that JJ had a rough go at life and sometimes that made him act irrationally, impulsively. But hadn’t they all? It wasn’t even a question– she knew they all had been dealt some shitty cards. She never understood the way the Pogues would let him off with an exasperated expression or a few angry words when they’d all seen hard times. They had lost all the money they’d gotten from the El Dorado gold over stupid decisions and she felt like she couldn’t even be mad about it. 

Sure, there was a rare beauty in what they’d created due to the aftermath of those decisions. She hadn’t felt the sense of belonging she got when she was with the Pogues in this eclectic home they’d built since she was thirteen. She’d known other types of love, like the love she received from Terrance, but it wasn’t like this, like the love only a family could give you. Terrance had taken care of her and Cleo in ways a father should have, but that didn’t change the fact that he was their captain. She answered to him and had to follow his every order, no matter how she felt about it. That kind of dynamic couldn’t produce unconditional love, even if she knew a deep kind of love still existed. With the Pogues, she knew it wasn’t like that. She’d gotten through the tests of loyalty they never explicitly told her she was taking and that gave her a permanent spot on their DIY family tree. But why did that love have to mean they stayed broke forever?

So, yeah, she couldn’t always stand JJ and his quirks, sue her. Yet, here she was, on a late night, the only light around her from the moon and the flashlight she held, trying to make sure JJ could do something that made him happy tomorrow. She could admit, probably only to herself, that she cared enough about him to want that. Since she’d stolen Genrette’s letter from JJ, her stomach had twisted every time she thought about it. JJ’s tense family relationships, or lack thereof, weren’t a secret, though Y/N didn’t know the extent of how bad it could get. To think that he now had to deal with the possibility that everything he had known was a lie and that everything he had endured growing up hadn’t been written for him made her feel sick. The one thing she could cling to on nights when her mind seemed to play a constant loop of her worst childhood memories was that she knew where she came from. She knew her name and she knew what that meant, even if her name was all she had left to show for that part of herself. JJ might not even have that. 

At some point, Y/N had found herself closing her eyes as she listened to the distant slap of waves against the pilings and occasional creak of the shack. There wasn’t much Y/N could do for JJ, nor was there much she wanted to do for him, but she guessed it wouldn’t hurt to repair some dingy generator. It’s not like she didn’t have experience doing these kinds of jobs.

Sighing, Y/N stuck the tiny flashlight she’d brought back between her teeth and resumed her crouching in front of the black and yellow box. The beam of her flashlight shook slightly as she spoke her next steps aloud, trying to find where she kept going wrong. Y/N wasn’t a patient person, though, and as more time went on she felt the same frustration creep up. Her movements began to grow quicker with every passing second, trying anything and everything that could work. In her franticness, her fingers slipped, grazing a sharp edge, and she hissed pulling it back to examine her finger. Sucking in a breath, she rolled her eyes at the cut on her finger. Somehow she’d managed to cut herself deep enough that she’d need to wipe off the blood and find a bandaid. Just as she was going to get up, she heard the sound of familiar footsteps padding against the deck. Y/N could recognize the sound of  JJ’s workboots anywhere. There was a time she used to look forward to that sound, though she’d never let anyone know. That was before the blond-haired boy had shattered her trust. 

“What are you doing out here?” JJ asked, not waiting for her to turn around and acknowledge him. With one last glance at her finger, Y/N moved to look at JJ. From the light of the moon, she could see he was wearing a muscle tank and some shorts, his hair tussled in every which way indicating he’d likely been sleeping before this.

“Fixing the generator,” Y/N said, flicking her flashlight to the box behind her. “It shot out earlier today.” She turned the flashlight back towards JJ, causing him to flinch from her shining the light directly in his eyes.

“Jesus, don’t blind me,” JJ covered his eyes with his forearm, waiting until Y/N moved the light and mumbled a ‘sorry.’ He moved closer to where Y/N was standing to try to get a better look at the generator behind her. “I didn’t realize the generator was acting up.”  

That was odd. JJ always noticed when something was wrong around the store, especially if it could influence his chartering. He must have been really out of it today if he hadn’t noticed something as big as the generator being out. 

“Yeah,” Y/N said, deciding against pointing out how worrisome it was that JJ hadn’t noticed. “But it doesn’t look like the piece of shit can be fixed. I’ve checked everything that could be wrong.” 

“Did you check the fuel levels?” JJ asked, sticking his hand out for Y/N to pass him the flashlight. 

“First thing I did.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N let him have the object. No point in stopping the inevitable.  

“What about the oil levels? Or the air filters. Maybe they’re blocked.”

“Nope, checked both those things.”

“Alright let me just check the wiring. It cou–”

“Already did that,” Y/N’s voice was a bit louder now, forcing JJ to snap his head up. “And I have a cut to prove it. Now is there any more advice you want to mansplain before I leave?” Y/N’s arms crossed across her chest, not trying to hide just how irritated she was with JJ. When did she ever?

JJ blinked, his mouth opening and closing. He shook his head, looking down. The slight tilt of his head was her only indication in the low lighting that he looked ashamed. He kind of looked like a scolded child. She hated that she found it cute. 

“No, ‘m sorry,” JJ muttered, moving away from the generator and stopping directly before Y/N. “Here, let me see.” 

Before she could try to stop him, JJ flashed the light to where Y/N’s hand now rested uncrossed. Comparing both her hands, he reached for the one that was bleeding, before mumbling a curse under his breath. JJ’s touch was gentle as he tilted her hand to assess the damage. JJ’s thumb grazed the back of her hand in a steady pattern. Y/N wasn’t sure if he noticed the way his touch lingered or if it was just an unconscious reflex, but the moment his thumb skimmed across her skin, she felt a rush of warmth spread through her, settling deep in her chest. Her breath caught and she couldn’t figure out why such a simple action was suddenly making her so aware of him. 

“Got yourself bad,” JJ said, his voice coming out in a whisper as if any increase in volume would shatter this moment around them. She wasn’t sure why, but Y/N didn’t want to be the one to shatter it either.

“I-it’s nothing,” She assured him, the level of her voice matching his. “Just a cut.”

“Yeah, but you’ll still need to clean it.” JJ’s hand lingered on Y/N’s for a moment longer, before stepping back and giving the girl some much-needed space. “I’ve got a first aid kit, one sec.” 

“The first aid kits we bought are in the house, not here,” Y/N reminded him, her voice returning to its regular cadence, when he stepped towards the door of the shack. “Remember?”

“I keep one here,” JJ explained, stepping through the doorway that led to the tiny store. A moment later he returned with what looked like a blue and white first aid kit. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the box in JJ’s hands. The Pogues had bought a bundle of two first aid kits when they had opened the store because Pope insisted that it was important to keep one on hand. But those kits had been red and white, so when had JJ bought this? Or why? It seemed kind of a waste.

Without saying a word, JJ sat himself down on the steps that lead up to the deck and motioned for Y/N to join him. 

“JJ, I can clean the cut. You don’t have to worry about it,” Y/N assured him, not moving towards the stairs.

“There ain’t much light, otherwise I wouldn’t insist,” JJ called back, shifting through the supplies in the box. “I know you’re tougher than a little cut. I just want to help.” There was something in his tone that told her it might be more than a want. “I won’t screw it up, don’t worry.”

Y/N suppressed a sigh, letting her head fall while he couldn’t see. Maybe she was too harsh on him. She didn’t want him to feel so dejected around her, she just expected more from him. Hesitating for only a minute longer, she moved to sit next to him on the rickety staircase. Wordlessly, she positioned herself so her knees were turned towards JJ, her bare skin brushing against the fabric of his shorts. She waited as JJ pulled out the necessary materials and took the flashlight from him when he held it out to her.  A moment later, JJ looked up at her, making her breath catch again.

The shadows softened the sharp edges of his face, hiding most of him from her view, but the faint moonlight caught just enough – the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, and the faint outline of his lips. The limited light didn’t do much to illuminate his features, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken. The way his eyes, even in the dark, seemed to fill the gap of silence between them, was unnerving. The shadows seemed to lean into him, framing his face like a half-finished sketch that was the most captivating piece of art she’d ever seen. JJ was handsome in every light, but there was something enchanting about him in the moonlight.  

“I’m gonna need your hand,” JJ spoke, breaking Y/N out of her trance. 

“What?” Y/N asked, too dazed to cringe at how dense she must’ve sounded. She watched JJ’s lips stretch into a smirk and again, even in the dark she could see that teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Your hand? You know, to clean the cut?” JJ broke eye contact with Y/N to look at her hand, which was tucked away at her side. With JJ’s eyes concealed from her, Y/N snapped out of her thoughts and looked down at her hand too. 

“Oh, right.” Y/N extended her arm, so her hand hovered above the first aid kit in JJ’s lap, silently berating herself for her lapse in focus. She thought JJ would definitely be letting that go to his head, but instead of taking this moment to embarrass Y/N, JJ simply took her hand in his grasp.

“Flash the light this way,” He said, his voice only slightly teasing. “Perfect.” He worked in silence, letting go of her hand to open an individually wrapped alcohol wipe before his warm fingertips wrapped back around her palm. The silence would have been a nice change of pace from JJ’s incessant need to fill any quiet moments, but right now Y/N didn’t trust herself. The less they talked the more she’d stare.

“Thanks,” Y/N controlled her voice so that it didn’t betray any discomfort as she spoke. “So um… how are you doing?”

“Hm?” JJ asked, the small sound endued with confusion.

“About the letter,” She clarified. “That news is a lot to handle.” She felt JJ’s hand tighten for a moment before loosening up. He chuckled, not stilling his movements as he placed the bloodied wipe next to him.

“You could say that,” JJ’s tone carried a sense of amusement, but she knew it was just a front. He let her hand go again, to unscrew the cap of the generic Neosporin. When he began applying the ointment to the cut, he didn’t take her hand in his again, instead letting it hang in the air. “I’m fine. Don’t really believe any of it anyway.”

“You don’t?” 

“You do?” JJ said, looking up at her. Y/N turned the flashlight in her hand to get a better read on his expression, causing JJ to flinch back like before. Shielding his eyes, he shouted, “Stop doing that!” 

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Y/N said frantically, but her apology was overpowered by a fit of laughter. 

“Seriously! You keep doin’ that and I’m gonna need a seeing-eye dog, woman.” JJ quipped, causing her to laugh even harder.

It took her a moment to calm down from her laughter and when she looked at JJ he had a small smile on his face. Simply chuckling, he shook his head and started to apply the ointment. Not wanting this conversation to pass them, Y/N continued with her earlier thought. “It’s not that I do believe it, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility. It could be real.” JJ’s smile disappeared, but she could tell from the position of his shoulders he wasn’t upset. 

“It feels like it is…. Impossible, I mean.” Y/N nodded as he spoke waiting to see if he’d elaborate. When he remained silent, she didn’t push. JJ needed to talk to someone because she had seen how everything played out disastrously when he didn't. But she wouldn’t push him to talk to her. They’d been better friends at one point. JJ had been one of the first people she bonded with when she’d joined the Pogues, aside from Sarah who she had felt an immediate inclination towards on Terrance’s ship. It didn’t matter though, that she’d once considered him her (second) closest friend in the group because she definitely wasn’t that person for him. She probably had a large part to play in that, but acknowledging that didn’t change how things were. She knew she had no right to force him to talk, so she shifted her attention to something else to fill the space between them. As she searched for another topic, she noticed JJ was already wrapping the bandaid around her finger, meaning he was almost done. 

“So, since when do you keep a first aid kit here?” Y/N asked, not wanting him to leave just yet– not after their first good moment in a long time. “This one’s different from the ones we got with Pope.”

“I’ve had it for a while,” JJ shrugged, throwing the bandaid wrapper to the growing pile of trash next to him. Y/N aimed the flashlight at the box of medical supplies, taking a proper look at it for the first time. It was a total wreck: silver wrappers spilling out, oversized bandage wrappers crumpled haphazardly, and a few tools resting on the rubbish she couldn’t properly identify. She’s not sure why the mess surprised her considering the kit belonged to JJ and he could be a bit clumsy, but how had he used so much already? 

“How long is ‘a while’?” Y/N pressed, leaning forward to shuffle through the mess. She shifted through the mess, tugging out a half-crumpled roll of gauze. “This thing’s been through the wringer. No wonder it took you so long to find the stuff.” She tossed the gauze back up in the box, noting the moment his expression changed. 

“Yeah,” JJ said before his jaw tightened and he stood up abruptly with the box in his hands. “It works fine.” JJ roughly set the first aid kit on the ledge of the shack, turning to face away from Y/N. 

Y/N frowned, not intending to have stuck a nerve with him. “Hey, I didn’t mean–”

“You know what?” JJ interrupted, spinning completely to face the generator. His movements were sharper now, less fluid. “I’m just gonna check one more time. There’s gotta be a way to fix this.”

Y/N rose to her feet, her stomach already clenching with the fear of an impending mishap. “JJ, stop. Leave it. I already–”

“I’m sure you checked it properly,” JJ cut her off as he crouched beside the generator. JJ’s hands moved frantically, tugging wires, and removing lids. “You probably just missed something, that’s all.” 

“JJ, hold on,” Y/N urged, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and shining her flashlight where JJ was still working. “Let’s just—”

JJ shrugged her hand off, his movements growing more erratic.“No– relax…just relax. It’s fine, see? I’m just gonna–” JJ kept twisting wires and prying things that didn’t need prying, parts that even Y/N hadn’t dared to touch despite spending the better half of her life on various ships.

“Please. Stop,” Y/N insisted. She knew this JJ, she’d seen him too much recently. “You’re making it worse.” JJ visibly flinched at her words but didn’t slow his movements.

“I’ve got it!” JJ snapped, his voice loud in the silent night. “I can fix this. Just let me fix it.” Y/N heard the way JJ’s voice waivered at the end, but she didn’t have time to figure out what it meant. Suddenly, JJ began to hit his hand against the side of the generator mumbling, “It just needs a little push.” 

Y/N’s protests fell on deaf ears as JJ continued his harsh beating of the generator, his movements extreme as if the generator had personally insulted him. JJ’s didn’t stop, until finally, miraculously, the entire deck lit up. Y/N looked around, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. There was no way…

“See?” JJ got up from the floor, his arms spread out on either side of him as his breath began to slow down. “Just needed a magic touch.” As he walked closer to Y/N, JJ gave her a pointed look that was no doubt meant to say ‘I told you so.’ Y/N pursed her lips, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting he’d fixed the problem. It wasn’t because she hadn’t been able to do it herself. It was because once again JJ had let his impulsive behavior take the wheel and this time he just got lucky. Pushing past her ego, Y/N was about to say thank you when –

A loud SNAP interrupted her, followed by a mechanical whine before she was met with complete silence. And darkness. Save for the orange sparks flying out from somewhere in the generator. JJ cursed under his breath, as he and Y/N ran down the stairs and off the deck. It was silent as they watched to make sure nothing else happened and the sparks didn’t lead to a fire. When she was sure there wouldn’t be anything else, she turned to JJ, her jaw set in annoyance. 

“You’ve got it?” Y/N repeated his words back to him, dripping in sarcasm. “You broke it, JJ.” 

JJ didn’t take even a second before defensively responding, “Well, it was already mostly broken.” 

Scoffing, Y/N looked to the sky, praying to anyone who’d listen to give her patience. “Mostly broken? It was off, JJ. Off and fixable. Now it’s dead. You just killed it.” 

JJ’s hand moved to the back of his neck, as he muttered something under his breath. He tilted his body away from Y/N which made her furious. Stepping to the side, she faced him head-on. 

“You just couldn’t leave it alone, huh? Why do you always have to–” 

“I was trying to help!” JJ argued and she couldn’t miss the unguarded, almost raw way he sounded, but she had to ignore it. Because no one else would tell him how bad this really was. “It wasn’t working before either, what’s the difference?”

“The difference, JJ,” Y/N said, her teeth grinding against each other. “Is that before we could have called a mechanic to fix it. Now, we need to buy a brand new generator. With money, that I don’t need to remind you, we don’t have! And we’ll be cut off from any profit we get from everything in here.”

They stared at each other, the flashlight beam caught awkwardly between them. JJ’s face was once again shrouded by darkness, but she could see the pout of his lips. 

“I’ll figure something out,” JJ’s voice was quieter now. “It’ll only cut into the early morning charters. We can keep track of profit the old school way– pen and paper.” 

“The early morning charters are half our business,” Y/N shook her head. “Just– stop making excuses, alright?”

JJ’s shoulders fell as he nodded, “Okay…” 

Y/N stared at JJ, not responding or furthering her chastising. JJ wouldn’t meet her eyes and she was glad. His usual bravado was missing as he tugged at what she presumed were loose threads on his shorts. If he had the gall to keep arguing right now, she would’ve lost it even more than she already did. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more, so she just shook her head and left back towards the house.

“Y/N,” JJ called, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible over the waves. Y/N just ignored it and continued on her path. She wanted to turn around, she wanted to tell him they’d figure it out. But she didn’t know that they would and she hated to lie. With that explanation to herself, she kept walking away from JJ, not knowing she was delivering the final blow to his heart.

taglist: @tpwkyarely @ayy1234567 @theater-bitch

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sealed by the storm - bonus material !¡

(just for funsies bc i've been loving making these fake posts)

what i imagine the pogues would post for the jj + y/n wedding to convince the obx after the events of chapter 4

taglist: @theater-bitch @ayy1234567 @tpwkyarely @loves animals0000 @B3rryb3t @mvaldez7821 @ummmmokaynotme @velyssaraptor @chloemaybank @sandaltoesocks @thexplosivegirl @rudypankowisbae @marleymarleymarleymarley @snowtargaryen @awurtzx06 @yumwhy @rudypankowisbae @thxtmarvelchick @kanpaeki

[deadpcnned]

tag system

here are some quick tags you can search for on my profile based on what you're looking for! for easier access, i've tagged them all below :)

#deadpcnned's navigation ↪ all masterlists, guides, etc.

#deadpcnned's updates ↪ updates on any and all of my works

#feedback <3 ↪ feed back on any and all of my work. it truly motivates me so much and i love looking back at ur comments as i write

#sealed 𓂁 ☼♒︎ ↪ all chapters + bonus materials related to my series "sealed by the storm"

#ag ☀︎ ↪ all parts + bonus materials related to my smau "afterglow"︎

#ur so vain! ↪ all chapters + bonus materials related to my series "you're so vain"

[deadpcnned]

hiii!! firstly i just wanna say how much i’m adoring your series, like they’re both so good 🥹💛 i was curious if you have any songs or artists that sort of remind you of them? i’m asking because i was listening to “champagne coast” by blood orange, and the instrumental part reminded me so much of sealed by the storm, like the tension between them two and everything >>>> maybe it’s because i’m so obsessed and can’t stop thinking about it hahaha anyway i was just curious to know if you have any inspo like that 💕 i’m literally so excited for the next chapter!! and i’ve been loving afterglow so much, it’s so sweet!!

(i apologize for how long this is, i got carried away)

hi!!!! i'm so sorry for the late response, i'm literally typing this at 3 am. this is suchhh a fun question!

thank you sm for keeping up w both series 😭 i listened to champagne coast from the perspective you did and woahhhh i would've never thought about that but i totally see it! i'm such a lyrics person that i get caught up in the literal meaning of songs, so it's super cool to think about how the production of a song could connect to the story.

also i always say i have "basic" taste in music bc i'm ur average pop-loving girly so pls no judgment on the song choices hahaha

afterglow: the obvious response is ofc 'afterglow' and 'cruel summer' by taylor swift. after i decided on the plot, i immediately wanted to title it afterglow bc i think what jj's abt to do is pure self-sabotage. despite the fact that he rlly does love the reader, he's going to put her in positions that are totally unfair. then it just naturally worked out that the story takes place in the summer, and there's a secret romance involved. so those two songs are very much jj's perspective vs. reader's. another song is '18' by one direction. i imagine them to be 20/21 and to have been friends since they were 18, so to me, it's the perfect song to show the soft, giddy essence of their relationship.

sealed: ooo okay this one i have sm more to say.

for the reader, i think of 'nonchalant' by suki waterhouse. this song definitely could apply to her romantic relationship w/ jj, but i see it as more her approach to life. she comes off as this sometimes cold and serious person (e.g., when jj mentions in ch. 2 that her humorous side often goes under the radar and sometimes he's the only one to catch it), but it's her defense mechanism because of her fear of losing everything (for a 2nd time in her life). there's a line that goes "i don't want the shoe to drop" that i think encapsulates the reader perfectly. she's constantly waiting for the next thing that goes wrong because that's all her life's been since she was 14/15 (can't wait to get more into her backstory!!). furthermore, her fear of marriage will definitely play a role when it comes to admitting her (future) feelings for jj and that's kind of when you can take the song more literally.

for jj, there's so many songs that i connect to his character (from the show), but in sealed specifically i think of 'glory and gore' by lorde. in this song i believe she's talking abt her fame, so not everything can be taken literally, but there's two parts that i view in tandem for jj's character.

we're slipping off the course that we prepared / but in all chaos, there is calculation / dropping glasses just to hear them break / you've been drinking like the world was gonna end (it didn't) / took a shiner from the fist of your best friend (go figure).

again, not everything is literal, but this is similar to jj's headspace in s4 after learning abt groff and the property hearing.

i guess we're really fighting ourselves / roughing up our minds, so we're ready when the kill time comes / wide awake in bed, words in my brain / "secretly you love this, do you even wanna go free?"

in this part, lorde is admitting to herself that whatever thing she claims to be fighting, she may actually like, which means she's now fighting herself. for jj, his entire life has been chaos - poverty, abuse, death, running. he wants to have that settled life where he owns a shop with his friends, doesn't worry about money, has a clearer future. but someone like jj can't flip a switch and get used to life without all the chaos. when something goes wrong, it's easier for him to "make it worse" bc that's all he's ever known, and he finds comfort in the destruction. now he says he doesn't want that life anymore - and of course, no one does or should - but can he let go of the comfort of his tendency to self-destruct? (i am actually so sad writing this - jj maybank, i'm sorry)

now for their relationship, there's three songs i think of:

the first is 'hate that you know me' by bleachers. this song is very much the anthem of their relationship. in part, their animosity towards each other exists due to their lack of understanding of what makes the other person who they are. but it's also because they know each other so well. they know exactly which pressure points (pressure points / they pressure you right back) to push to get a reaction out of the other, and they use it to protect themselves.

the second song is 'smoke slow' by joshua bassett. to me this is what we'll see of their relationship after they start living on the boat. ugh there's sm abt this one, pls tolerate me, i beg!

she asks for a light / as our secrets spill on the window sill / we're buying more time / while we kill ourselves as we both inhale

making believe there's a future / is it naive to think we could work? / the second it's out, then I lose her

but all that we are is all that we'll ever be / 'cause he's the one waiting at home

there's only so far we can go / next to you, but I'll never be close / so take your time while you're mine

i'm telling you things that I've never said / hope I don't regret this

the entire concept of this song is that two people are pointlessly spending time together because their bond cannot go past the room they're in. once one of them leaves, it's over. jj and reader's marriage, while indefinite, is meant to be temporary. no matter what bond they create during their time on the boat, to them, there's no us after the stuff with groff is settled. furthermore (do i think this is an essay???), jj's life has unfortunately been public for most people to see, but reader's life pre-terrance's crew is still very much a secret. we'll definitely see her open up more to jj and that's going to be something extremely new for her (like, not even cleo knows these parts of her).

addicted to illusions of a love that never was / and never will be anyway

this line is PERFECT. it can be connected to the illusion of love btwn them caused by the simple but glaring fact that they're married. they weren't in love before, and they can't be in love after, so whatever they feel in between must be a mirage caused by misplaced marital obligation. right?

one last one - 'movement' by hozier.

this song is about their physical intimacy as their relationship progresses. the sound is seductive and visually i imagine it as a very dim lit moment between two lovers (which is bound to happen living on a boat). but there are two parts that i think make this song unique to them.

and when you move, I'm moved / you are a call to motion

when you move / i'm put to mind of all that I wanna be

for jj, the reader will become someone who shows him a better version of himself. the person he can be, instead of the person he's been made to think he is. for reader, jj will force her to place trust in someone other than herself (and cleo). they'll both find parts of themselves that they wish could be their whole, and i think that yearning for each other, but also their best selves, will shift the tone for their more intimate moments.

if you've read this far, wow! thank you fr. i clearly love to yap lollll

[deadpcnned]

omg another series for me to be obsessed with!! 🥺🥺 i recently found your profile, and i literally can’t get your stories out of my head!! they’re so so great <33

i wanted to share this little moment from sealed by the storm chapter four: “Sar, why would you give me this for a sham wedding? It’s such a waste.” “I don’t feel like it would be,” Sarah responds. Cryptic…” 🫢🫢 does this little moment mean that sarah like ships them or thinks they could work out? i loveeee the way you wrote sarah, i love her smmm <33 and if it is something like her clocking them i would find it so funny because she did that even before the two of them hahah anyway i was just curious about your insight on this moment!

i’m so excited to see what happens next and for the rest of your series!! they’re all so great 💘 i already love the new one and there was just an introduction hahah

ahhhh i’m so happy you’re here 🩷

sarah’s one of my favorite characters of the show and i’ve loved getting to write abt a character like her!! sarah saying that was 100% a little nod at the fact that she thinks something could happen or exist between jj and tr & i hope to explain that a little more as we start getting flashbacks

i’m so excited to keep writing sealed & some new stuff and beyond grateful to have someone like you reading it

[deadpcnned]

took a little time to reread the whole 5 chapters for sealed by the storm bc the new chapter was just posted and i already miss the story sm 😭😭 and it keeps getting better and better!! i loved their buildup so far, and i’m so excited to see them living together on the boat now 🤭 i can tell next chapter is gonna be so good and i can’t wait to read it and see what happens next!!

i love how oblivious they are about their feelings, like babies ur crushing on each other open ur eyes 😭😭 i do love a good slow burn and i’m already freaking out by him holding and rubbing her hand i know i’m going to be screaming, crying, kicking my feet when something else happens 😭

i’m curious about a few things though!! what were kie and jj talking about? 👀 the whole thing between the three of them makes me a little nervous for future drama but at the same time i can tell it’s gonna be 🤌 chefs kiss so good ANDD i wanted to know if you already have a estimate for how many chapters is going to be or like at what point of the story we’re at? sorry if that’s weird to ask, i’m just curious and i’ve been loving this story so much i don’t want it to end lollll 🥲🥲🥲 and would you ever write flashbacks? like their first meeting, them in poguelandia or anything like that? i already love the scenes we get when they refer how they used to be closer, i think it could be so so interesting to see those times

also for the chapters thing you’ve asked!! i love longer chapters not even gonna lie, it always feels like i can get immersed in the story, like fully get in the zone, don’t know if that makes sense lol 😭 but i just wanted to say that ur writing is so so good, u get the characters so well. like u get jj in such a special way, i always love reading his pov bc it feels so realistic! and everything related to the reader character is also so interesting, like she’s such a badass character! and even though we saw them start in a rough patch, i’m so excited to see them blossom, they’re gonna have such a beautiful bond i can already tell i’m going to lose my mind 🥹❤️ i’m such a romance girlie, and they’re healing everything in me already

sorry, this was wayyyy too long, but this is truly one of my favourite stories!! like i haven’t been able to think about anything else ever since the newest chapter was posted! you’re so so talented! 💗 anyway i’ll shut up now, but just know that i’ll literally read anything you write, like please share your groceries list i’m sure i’ll love it too lol hope you have a good day!!!

i wish you could see how big my smile was as i was reading this. the fact that someone not only reread a chapter, but all five blows my mind 😭 thank you so so much my love!

i'm so excited to write abt them living on the boat bc that's like the best part of marriage of convenience, the forced proximity. their obliviousness is so funny bc i think they definitely recognize that there's some kind of pull btwn them but they're both the type not to accept what they're feeling (more so the reader). when i'm editing the chapters, the soft touches between them always get me bc i'm suchhh a sucker for small gestures, sometimes more than the obvious romance.

ooo i'm excited to answer some questions: 1) as for what kie and jj were talking abt, i do plan on going into more detail in upcoming chapters! tbh, I'm nervous abt the drama, too, hahaha I keep going between options for how I want everything to play out btwn the three of them. some options could def put jj's character in such a gray area. which may be fun to write, but also kind of terrifying??? I also don't want to go down the route of making kie the villain bc the whole situation has been really unfair to her, too. 2) ahhh i wish i could give you an estimate on the chapters 😭 i've been doing my best to make the upcoming chapter's outlines ahead of time, but i'm still unsure abt some major things (i.e. groff) and how i want that to be tied up. totally not a weird question and i feel like there'll be many more chapters to come hehe 3) yesss, i definitely want to incorporate flashbacks somewhere! i'm not exactly sure where and what, but i can see flashbacks from poguelandia being vey fitting for their story

yayyy i'm so happy ur enjoying the longer chapters!!!! thank you so so so much, genuinely. analyzing jj as a character has been so much fun since i joined this fandom! i don't know if i do his character justice, but hearing that you find it realistic is !!!!!!! the best compliment esp bc the plot line of this fic is so unrealistic hahahaha

thank you so much for this ask <3 as much as i write for myself, engagement makes such a big difference in my motivation to get past any kind of writer's block (like fr the last few chapters have been hard for me to get "right" and then hearing that a few ppl actually liked them makes me ecstatic). i would love to write so much more on this blog and i hope that i don't disappoint! have an amazing day/night/life angel!!!

p.s.: my current grocery list is oranges, tajin, international delight coffee