#jj with a dad who was abusive as hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

featherandferns · 12 days

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god's test (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by this song amongst others

content warning: abusive parents; allusions to s3xual abuse; drug use/misuse; sexual content (female and male receiving; p in v); unhealthy relationships; brief mentions/discussions of fertility | Some heavy themes in this so please feel free to message if you're unsure.

word count: 18k.

blurb: what if the Pogues never found El Dorado? Life in survival mode at the age of twenty-two sure had lost its shine. In that tarnish, JJ wonders if your relationship has too.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til' death do us part.”

JJ sits crossed legged on the floor of his living room. To his right is a half empty can of Coke and to his left is the plastic case for the VHS tape which is currently whirring in the player, displayed on the TV through grainy, wibbly lines. His bright blonde hair sticks every which way. The Goodwill sourced t-shirt is too big on his frame but his dad insisted he’d grow into it, and to stop his moaning and bitching. Be grateful, was his last warning. The shorts on his skinny legs seem to be getting smaller everyday, perhaps because JJ only seems to get taller. That slight discomfort is a lost thought right now. Instead, JJ is glued to the wedding video on the screen. Glued to the image of his mother, smiling up at his father, the two of them unaged and undamaged. The two of them are in love.

“I do,” JJ’s dad, Luke, says in an almost unrecognisable tone. Then, he leans forward at the officiant’s approval and kisses JJ’s mother. JJ misses her deeply. His heart squeezes at the sight of her smile, turning to the camera with a beam. He finds his own lips twitching up too as if her happiness is contagious. Then the tape cuts suddenly to the reception. It seems a small affair with only a handful of friends and family. JJ can place his uncle and aunt, who cradles his cousin Ricky in her arms, and a few more of his dad’s crowd of so-called friends. His mother can be seen in the background talking to her parents - JJ’s grandparents. They’d made themselves scarce after she walked out on JJ and his dad. Never once did JJ think he’d lose not only his mother but his grandparents too. Loneliness likes company, it seems.

Another sudden cut and it’s his parents dancing. Their first dance. The dark lighting of the hall messes with the low-quality cam-corder's exposure. They’re painted in rays of shadows and glow almost ethereal-like as they sway to the music. Luke whispers something in his new wife’s ear and she giggles, soundless as the crooning voice of Rod Stewart sings their wedding song: ‘Have I Told You Lately’. JJ grins. He decides then and there, at the big age of eight, that that’s what he wants. That sort of happiness. As if blinded by the cinema of it all, he forgets the reality. The mess that surrounds him in the neglected house; the absence of his mother and the recklessness of his father; the strange definition of love that’s been tied to the Maybank name.

So distracted by the tape, JJ doesn’t hear his dad rouse in the other room. He doesn’t hear the sound of the creaking door or the aching floorboards, and when he finally catches sight of Luke staggering down the hallway, it’s too late. His dad has caught sound of the song and it’s as if he’s intoxicated again, only now with rage. He glares at JJ and makes a b-line to the television screen, coming face to face with his hidden wedding tape. He had no idea JJ had found it and stashed it for his own safe keeping.

“What the damn hell do you think you’re doing?” he barks, turning to JJ. He grabs him by the shoulder with one hand and hoists him onto his feet. JJ’s tiny body floods with terror. His feet go numb and cold and his face burning hot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, huh boy!?”

JJ flinches at his father’s tone. His lip quivers. “I…I only wanted–”

“You only wanted to what, huh? Stealing things like the no-good son-of-a-bitch you are, eh?” Luke hollers, spit flying from his mouth and onto JJ’s rosy skin.

“I just wanted to see mama,” JJ blubbers.

“You ain’t ever seein’ her again, you hear me?” Luke shouts. He tosses JJ back onto the floor. He lands on his backside with a smack, flinching at the feeling, and looks up to see his dad aggressively messing with the player. A new wave of panic comes over JJ as he jumps to his feet, darting forward for the tape before his dad can snap it in two. To JJ, it isn’t just a stupid VHS. It’s his mother.

“No! Gimme it!” JJ screeches, scratching and clawing at his father’s arms as he attempts to wrestle the tape from his hold. His small hand latches around it moments before Luke’s own smacks him clean across the cheek. The force sends him flying onto his side, reuniting with the floor. Sobbing, JJ clutches the tape close to his chest. His dad yells abuse at JJ, tumbling cuss words in casually amongst his berates. Keeping the tape close and safe to his stomach, JJ manages to his feet and faces up to his father. An anger that he’s never known before takes control. “I hate you!”

Before his dad can lunge for him again, JJ darts for the front door. He almost trips down the stairs in his hurry. The sound of his dad’s footsteps behind him sound like a giant’s, pounding against the floorboards. He chokes on his sobs as he sprints away from the house. I’m never coming back, he thinks to himself. That’ll show him. He doesn’t dare check to see if his dad is following. Not until he’s well away from the house, almost completely shot of breath, panting and heaving, no tears left to cry. Finally, he stops. He looks down at the tape with shaking hands to find it safe and intact. Luke and Marie’s Wedding Tape, it says in black sharpie across the front. He hugs it against him as if hugging his mother.

The moment of tranquillity is broken by a loud whoop and holler. His head flashes to the side to find a girl climbing on the old pier. It’s nearly completely decayed, broken down by a hurricane a few years back. Now it’s just pillars of wood, splintering and misaligned.

Some adult on the new pier is yelling at you. “I’ll tell your father, missy! You listenin’? You get down from there now!” Beside them are some friends, blissfully ignoring the warnings, cheering you on. You turn to them and JJ catches sight of your smile. It reminds him of his mother’s and a warm feeling sparks somewhere in his chest, as if lighting a match in a damp cave. The sun twinkles above your head and that’s when JJ notices the streak of hot pink in your hair. Woah - Cool. And then you’re falling - hurling yourself into the air and flying down into the water - out of sight. He takes a step forward, as if to do something, and waits anxiously with the others for you to re-emerge. You break to the surface with a cackle. Your friends erupt in cheers and you giggle, splashing water as if aiming for them despite being metres down below the pier. And then you look straight at JJ. It's just for a second, only a second, but a second was enough. Eight-year-old JJ Maybank was in love.

6 Years Later

Confidence is a powerful armour. It makes you almost untouchable. Nobody messes with the mouthy kid. The kid who gets in fights; the kid who makes the room laugh. JJ knew what it was like to be on the bottom of the food chain and he was never going to willingly put himself there. At school, he made himself a staple. A delinquent, known for his short fuse and reckless choices. It kept the bully’s off his scent and gave him a good outlet for the repressed anger and hatred he held towards his father. Though, the older he got (now fourteen), the more JJ fought back. His dad could no longer throw him to the ground as easily. Not now that JJ had taken up working out and picking fights in the school yard. Luke wasn’t the only one who knew how to throw a right-hook now. And the most important lesson JJ had learnt? Never let them see you cry.

The downsides? Cut lips, lingering bruises, and detention. So much detention.

“Nice of you to join us, Maybank,” the teacher mutters, not bothering to look up from his newspaper as JJ loiters into the classroom after school on Thursday.

“Happy to be back, sir,” JJ casually returns. He scribbles his name down on the sign up sheet, confirming his attendance, then scans the room.

There’s the regulars: Tommy Peach, who’s always doing time for selling whatever pills he can get his hands on in the parking lot; Ashley, who has a habit of smoking in the girl’s bathrooms; Colin, who got spotted with a gun in his backpack just the other day, supposedly just to ‘show it off’; and Pearl, who skipped three classes in one day (her record being four and a half). He catches her eye and winks - they’d made out behind the bike shed last week. You can spot the one-time offenders easily. They’re usually hanging their head at the very back, biting back tears, full of shame for letting down mommy and daddy. JJ had a certain distaste for them. He supposed it was because he knew his father could give less of a crap if JJ wound up in detention. If anything, JJ preferred it. Less time for him to be in his house and less risk of getting a beating for some slip-up. This time, the new offender is Patty Grayson - a goody-two-shoes smarty pants who had forgotten her homework. JJ’s surprised they didn’t let it slide given her track record. Finally, his eyes land on another new timer.

You’re not hanging your head as if praying for forgiveness, nor are you sobbing your apologies into the abyss. No: you look rather comfortable and - if anything - bored, as you lounge in your seat. A bottle of silver nail polish sits on the desk as you paint your nails. As if feeling his stare, you glance up and meet his gaze. You frown. Right, yeah, I’m being weird. JJ decides to take a seat next to you. He watches you in his peripheral vision for a while as you paint and paint. At one point, the teacher heads to the staff kitchen for dinner, giving a half-arsed warning about sneaking out. Pearl is happy to skip detention, probably addicted to the thrill, but everyone else stays sat. Suddenly, you look at JJ.

“Can I help you?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking at me,” you say, irritated.

“I do?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, y’know…” You quirk a brow, waiting for his reply, and JJ scrambles for one. “Your hair.”

You frown. “What?”

“Your hair,” JJ uselessly repeats.

“What about it?”

“It’s purple.”

“Yeah. I dye it. It’s not my natural colour, idiot,” you reply.

“It looks nice,” JJ tells you. You’re visibly taken back, blinking at him for a second.

“Oh,” you mumble, lifting a hand to pet it, “thanks.”

“You ain’t ever been to detention before, right?” JJ checks, finding it easier to converse now that you’ve calmed down.

You laugh. It sounds just the same as when you were little, from the first time JJ saw you, but only deeper. More mature. “Cause I’m good at not gettin’ caught, unlike you.”

“Oh, you been keepin’ tabs on me or somethin’?” JJ grins.

“You hold the record for the most detentions, Maybank. Sorta puts you on the map," you say with a roll of your eyes.

Holy shit, she knows my name.

“Maybe you’ll have to teach me your ways some time,” JJ smoothly quips.

Shaking your head, you turn your focus back to painting your nails. “I work alone.”

Like some dork, JJ watches you for a while. Something tells him you know he is as there’s this little smile on your lips. His eyes trail down from your face to your arms and soon to your hands. Your knuckles are bruised and scabbed over and JJ frowns, curious and concerned despite having only just officially met you. Ever since the day at the pier back when he was eight, JJ had been vaguely aware of your existence. You were in the year above at school and undeniably cool. He’d seen you skating in the parking lot, caught you getting lectured for shoplifting at the local grocery shop for a candy bar, noticed you helping (who he assumed was) your dad fish, and seen you from time to time in the halls. The only person who was aware of his infatuation was John B, who tortured JJ relentlessly for it. Over the years, your hair has undergone many changes. At one point it was buzzed completely off. He didn’t see you much that year, come to think. Now it hangs just past your shoulders, a deep, enticing purple. It caught him off guard because only last week it was royal blue. Not that he was keeping track or anything…

“Here.”

JJ snaps out of his daydream to find you holding out something to him. A thin, white stick, rolled rather wonky.

“You want some?”

“Won’t we get caught?” JJ reflexively asks.

“Boo. Pussy,” you teasingly return, retracting the offer. You briefly glance to the doorway before retrieving a lighter: bright, shiny silver and square. You light the end and take a drag. There’s a sweet, sickly smell that comes from it.

“I ain’t a pussy,” JJ counters. There’s a smirk on your face as he takes the joint from you, guiding it to his lips to inhale. It catches uncomfortably in his throat and chest, making him cough. Laughing, you consolingly pat his back. He clenches his eyes shut: so embarrassing.

“You good?” you giggle.

“Never better,” JJ manages out through his chokes, giving you a shaky thumbs up.

“First time?”

He shakes his head but you’re unconvinced. Smiling, you dig about in your pocket to retrieve a set of house keys. JJ watches as you scratch something into the metal of your lighter. He takes another hit of the joint as you do so, managing better this second time around. As he goes to hand it back, you trade him for your lighter.

“Here,” you say, passing it to him. He takes it and looks at your inscription. JJ. His lips twitch in a smile. Glancing to you, you light-heartedly explain, “your first stoner lighter.”

As you finish taking another drag, the teacher’s footsteps sound from down the hall. Cool as a cat, you put the joint out on the underside of your chair and slip it back into a little metal box decorated with Powerpuff Girls stickers. It slips safely into your bag just as the teacher rounds into the room. At first, JJ worries you’re caught, as the teacher’s finger singles you out. But then he tosses his thumb over his shoulder.

“Your dad’s here early to pick you up,” he tells you.

If you’re happy to be leaving early, you don’t show it. If JJ didn’t know better, he’d even say you’re reluctant as you pack up your stuff. Shucking your backpack over your shoulder, you flash JJ a smile, rising to your feet.

“Well, hopefully I’ll see you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, same here,” JJ says, smiling.

You walk past the desk and head out the door. JJ’s sure it’s the effect of you rather than the weed that leaves him feeling more dazed than ever before in his life.

Two Years Later

What better way to lay-low than by throwing a kegger? JJ’s logic was undisputed. Not only had he encouraged the Pogues to hang onto the money and the gun that they'd found in the motel room, but he also got them to throw a last-minute gathering at the Boneyard. Honestly, his genius should be rewarded.

As he mingles through the ever growing crowd, the sun growing darker by the minutes, JJ peruses the options. Some tourons had shown up: clueless but eager as they got roped into drinking games and conversations, and hit on constantly by locals. The kooks were mostly keeping to themselves, happy to drink the beers and cans brought by the people on the cut. Typical. Pearl catches JJ’s eye and she tips her cup at him in greeting from across the way, a seductive glint in her eyes and a telling message in her smile. JJ lazily tosses a hand up in return. They’d hooked up a few times now but he wasn’t feeling it tonight.

As if guided by fate, you come perfectly into JJ’s line of sight. You’re drinking from a red solo cup, chatting with some of your friends, pretty in an oversized tee and shorts. Again, just as you had in detention two years prior, your eyes catch onto his. This time, you smile. Saying something to your friend before heading over to JJ (who’s half certain he hit his head earlier and might be hallucinating).

“Enjoying yourself?” JJ asks the minute you’re in front of him. He’s taller now. Ever growing in his confidence; sex does that to a guy. It makes them feel invincible.

“I’m guessing your group is the one to thank for this kegger then?”

JJ grins. “We know how to throw a good party.”

“I’ll say,” you smile. “I wish there was more music though.”

“You dance?”

“Sometimes. If I’m with the right person,” comes your sly response, smiling up at him. “You look different since detention.”

JJ would like to think so: that was two years ago. “Really? Different how?”

“Taller. Fitter.”

“Hotter?”

You laugh as you say, “you’re pretty sure of yourself, huh?”

“I was told confidence is sexy,” JJ returns. “What’d you think?”

You don’t say anything but JJ knows he isn’t crazy when you take a sip of your drink, your eyes scanning over his body leisurely as you do. You give a small hum.

“So, got tired of the purple?” JJ asks, gesturing to your hair. It’s long now and seemingly your natural hue again, like it was that day at the pier all those years ago. There’s now little strands of tinsel in it that reflect different colours in a silverish shine depending on how the light hits it. Your nose ring is new too, though JJ noticed that the minute you had that done. He noticed you a lot, even if he never spoke to you. You never did to him so he just assumed to stay clear. Besides, there was a rumour that you went out with Tommy Peach a few months back and JJ didn’t feel like getting his ass handed to him. JJ was good at fighting now, as unfortunate as that was to admit, and he was aware he was in good shape, but Tommy was feral and tall. God knows why you wanted to go out with a scumbag like that, but JJ supposed he wasn’t much of a step up either.

“My dad hated it,” you say. “And I wanted a change.”

“Shame. I liked the purple.”

“So you don’t like it like this?” you wonder. “Bummer. I was gonna try and shoot my shot with you but guess I’ve lost my chance…”

JJ’s eyes somehow don’t fall out of his head. He chuckles, almost nervously, and clears his throat. “Say what?”

You roll your eyes . “When a girl gives you her lighter and says she hopes she sees you around, JJ, it’s her way of saying ‘you’re cute, we should hang’.”

Oh.

Laughing, as if hearing his inner monologue, you shrug. “Guess I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Lucky for you, I’m two beers in and that seems like enough confidence to come over”

“Two beers? I don’t wanna be taking advantage of you,” JJ teases, making you laugh.

“Can’t believe you’re accusing me of being a lightweight when you nearly died after smoking your first joint.”

“Woah! Low blow!”

“I thought I’d murdered you! I was scared you were allergic or some shit,” you giggle.

JJ grins down at you and tries to retrace his steps to how he got here, stood on the beach, talking to you and having you actively hit on him. It feels like a wet dream he’d concoct on lonely nights. He stays in that borderline stupor as the two of you talk and talk. You’re funny, but JJ already knew that, and you’re an adrenaline junky too, but JJ knew that as well. The two of you like the same kind of music so that leads to a huge discussion which almost becomes an argument of who was better: Kid Cudi or J. Cole? The more the drinks flow, the more your hand finds solace on his thigh, and the more his on yours. Soon enough JJ's foot’s rubbing leisurely at your ankle, personal space a long disputed myth, and he’s fighting the urge to kiss you. He’s not sure why he’s dragging it out when you’re obviously into him. Maybe he just wants to keep the anticipation alive for a little bit longer. After all, he’s wanted this since he was eight years old.

The moment is interrupted by someone hollering your name. As you look up, JJ realises how dark it is. It’s officially night now with the moon high in the sky. A few people have pulled on sweaters as the evening has cooled, especially with the seafront breeze, but JJ feels burning hot. He spots someone waving at you and beside them is a girl crouched in the sand. You cuss and get up.

“That’s my friend. I better go help,” you hurriedly explain. You pass JJ your empty cup and give an apologetic smile. Then, you press a brief kiss to his lips. It's so brief that it barely feels real, and JJ doesn’t register it until you’re already walking away. “I’ll be back soon! Sorry!”

JJ watches as you hurry over and help out your vomiting buddy. Sighing, bummed, he looks around and tries to track down his friends. The alcohol hits him when he stands, flooding from his brain, down to his body like ice cold water. He staggers for only a moment in the direction of John B, filling up the cups in his hands on the way as if willingly ignoring his body’s messages. He whistles out to catch his best friend’s attention, offering him one of the cup’s of beer. But Sarah Cameron and her douchebag boyfriend Topper make their way past, and something inside of JJ seeks mayhem. He offers it out to her instead but Topper tries to lay claim.

“That’s nice of you man, but I didn’t ask you,” JJ returns. “If you said ‘pretty please’, maybe. But you didn’t.”

“Oh! Pretty please!” a squiffy Topper checks.

“Yeah,” JJ replies. “So, Sarah, I promise–”

The beer hits JJ’s face in a non-refreshing wake-up. His anger tips quick like a nuclear bomb. His hands come up to Topper’s shirt, grabbing him before shoving him back. John B’s hand comes up to JJ’s chest, firmly trying to hold him back.

“You’re so funny man!” JJ sarcastically urges. Before he can push it further, Topper says something that has John B lurching at him and soon enough, a full on fist fight begins. Pope is quick to intervene with JJ, holding him back, and no matter how much the latter struggles, he can’t seem to get to his best friend. Concerning seeps into the anger as he watches Topper lay into John B, kicking him into the water. And then pride when John B starts to fight back. “Give it to him, man!”

The night feels as though it’s split into two as JJ loses himself in watching the fight. His conversation with you might have happened years ago as his attention homes in on the flying fists and chants of the watchers. And then it all turns sour. Topper holds John B down into the water, face smushed into the sand, and all he can hear is Sarah begging for him to stop. JJ fidgets nervously, eager to do something, unsure of what. Then, another genius idea.

It feels out of body as he retrieves the gun and checks the safety. As he makes his way over to the water and presses it against Topper’s head. It doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his body when JJ clicks the safety off. Topper stills beneath him.

“Yeah, you know what that is,” he warns through clenched teeth. “Your move, broski.”

Nothing but the waves. Nothing but his heartbeat. Nothing but John B’s choked breathes in the water.

“Put the gun down!”

“Did you say something, princess?” JJ asks Sarah, focus on Topper’s hands. Eventually, they lift off John B’s weak body. The rich asshole repeats that they’re good and JJ shoves him down. But he’s still so angry. He’s always so angry. The mentality comes back from when he first started school. Never be the weak one. Never let them get the upper hand. Assert your dominance. He raises the gun into the air and turns to the dying crowd. “Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!”

The gun fires twice, the recoil minimal. It cracks in the silence of the night. A few people scream, alarmed, and then they start to run.

JJ comes back to his body when Kiara shoves him. An argument breaks out between himself, Pope and Kie, and as the two others rush to help John B (who collapses back into the waves), JJ finally remembers the night. The whole night. He remembers you. As he looks out into the mass of bodies rushing away from the scene of the almost crime, he spots you. You look conflicted, for only a second, and then you leave too.

Shit.

The next day, JJ kills the time in the mid-morning with target practice in the back yard. The cops had swung by earlier and he thought it right to celebrate keeping the gun. Your whistle sounds like a birdcall. JJ’s head whips around at the sound, startled, and it seems to amuse you. He lowers his gun and frowns, confused at the sight of you.

“How d’you know I live here?”

“I have my sources,” you smile, tapping the side of your nose. You wander leisurely into his back yard toward him as if you’ve been there thousands of times before. Nodding to the gun in his hand, you quirk a brow. “So, they didn’t take it off you?”

“Let me off with a warning,” JJ shrugs. “They couldn’t find the gun and have no proof that I kept it…”

“Ah. Loopholes,” you hum.

When you come to a pause beside him, JJ awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “Look, I’m real sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Freak me out how?” you frown.

“With the whole…gun…thing.”

Laughing, you shake your head. “That ain’t why I left JJ.”

“It ain’t?”

“No! I mean, Topper looked as though he wasn’t gonna let up, so,” you say, shrugging in agreement with JJ’s previous actions. “I just can’t go back to prison anytime soon. My dad’ll kill me.”

“Back to prison?” JJ says. He shouldn’t be as impressed (or turned on) by that as he is.

“Ooo, the big scary place, I know,” you grin, teasing, before randomly making a grab for the gun. JJ barks out a laugh, holding it up and out of reach. “Come on! Lemme have a go!”

“You ever shoot before?” JJ asks, eyeing you up.

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “We have a BB in our house that I fire around all the time. I wanna see how this one feels.”

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t give a weapon to a known criminal, right?” JJ says, tone almost flirtatious.

“Come on. You can do the whole ‘let me show you’ thing.”

Lowering the gun, JJ chuckles, befuddled. “The what?”

“You know! When guys wanna feel a girl up they pretend to teach them how to do stuff. Like a tennis instructor or something. They’re all like ‘let me show you’.”

“You tellin’ me you got a tennis instructor?”

“Yeah, and a mansion with three yachts - now come on!”

Shaking his head, laughing, JJ relents. He hands you the gun, safety on, and partly to follow along with your joke, but mostly to feel your body close to his, JJ stands almost fully behind you. He checks which is your dominant hand and guides your arms up into position. He shifts the position of your fingers. Your hair catches slightly in the wind and the smell of fruit and herbs dulls his senses. When he speaks again, you giggle.

“Your breath tickles,” you mutter.

“It does?” JJ checks, purposefully speaking even closer against the skin of your neck. You squirm and laugh and JJ has no idea how any of this happened, but he sure as hell isn’t complaining. “You gotta keep still.”

As if to coax you to do so, JJ plants one of his hands on the side of your waist. Your breathing seems to catch with that, all giggles dead on your tongue, and JJ struggles to bite back his smirk. His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder as he follows your line of vision. You click the safety off under his instruction and then fire. He feels the power of the gun run down your arms, the recoil making your body jilt only slightly. Clicking the safety on again, you lower the gun and turn your head. Eyes half-hooded, you look up from his lips into his eyes. JJ notices a small, relatively fresh cut under your eye. Was that there last night? That train of thought derails when your tongue peaks out, dampening your lips. JJ loses all patience. His lips are on yours, kissing you, hand tightening just so on your side. You carelessly drop the gun to the floor and turn in his hold. Hands on his face, on his shoulders, around his neck, in his hair…JJ kisses you until he’s not sure what his name is anymore. Even then, he kisses you still.

From there, the two of you were intertwined in one another’s lives. There was no other way to put it: JJ adored you. It was as if you constantly shared a common thought: JJ had never met someone so like himself. Two sides of the same stone. The Pogues noticed it easily. You didn’t exactly have to ask to join the gang. The fact that JJ trusted you enough to bring you around spoke volumes to his friends. They’d never met one of his previous situationships or flings before, and from that they could recognise this was something different. Seeing the two of you together just drove that point home faster. Birds of a feather. When the wild goose chase surrounding the Royal Merchant cropped up, you joined that too. Pope joked that there was something wrong with your amygdala, which upon explanation meant that you seemed to have a pretty low fear factor. It came after you literally wrestled Barry for the gun when they got held at gunpoint. All you’d done was shrug and said that you’d known “true fear” and that wasn’t it. Nobody knew what that meant, including JJ, but he had a feeling that he might after he dropped you home one time.

The Chateau had become almost as familiar to you as it was to JJ. The pair of you had claimed the porch as your go-to smoking spot. One Tuesday afternoon, you sit sprawled in the armchair: head on one armrest and legs swung over the other. Your now lilac highlighted hair dangles in two braids. JJ is keeping himself entertained by tracing his eyes up and down your legs, over your stomach and chest, up to your dozed out face, and back again. The two of you were smoking hash, passing it back and forth leisurely, sharing mindless musings about life and the world and what things might be like if you actually found the gold.

“I’d buy a house,” you say.

“Lame.”

“A big house,” you continue, ignoring him and gesturing in front of you as if visualising it. “It’d be pastel blue with big white shutter-style windows and a wrap-around porch. There’d be one of those porch swings sat out front. Oh! And flowers. A shit ton of flowers.”

“You can’t even keep a cactus alive,” JJ snorts.

“I’d hire a gardener. Duh,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Anything else?” JJ wonders. He keeps a mental checklist: blue house; white shutters…

“A dog,” you smile. “And a cat.”

“Alright then.” Maybe it’s the manner that he says it that has you looking at him, amused. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll ‘do it’?” you chuckle, raising your brows.

“Yeah. When we find the gold–”

“If we find the gold–”

“When,” JJ insists, making you laugh, “I’ll get you your house and your dog.”

“Don’t forget the cat,” you warn, pointing at him.

“Christ, lady! And your cat.”

“Good,” you smile.

You look back to the ceiling and slip your eyes shut, sighing contentedly. JJ chuckles, shaking his head, gazing at you as if you sculpted the planets and personally hung them in the solar system. It’s short lived bliss, however, because your phone pings. Then again, and again, until it’s nothing but an ongoing buzz of noise. JJ frowns at it and you quickly reach over to the window ledge where it’s precariously sat. The moment your eyes scan the screen, you sit up. Everything about your demeanour shifts. JJ sees the second you switch to panic.

“I gotta go,” you mumble. You swing your legs off the sofa and stand. JJ’s quick to follow.

“Everything okay?”

“I just gotta go home right now,” you reply, already making your way down the porch steps. JJ ditches the spoon pipe on the coffee table and catches up.

“I’ll take you on my bike,” he says, grabbing your hand and guiding you to it. You don’t argue and he doesn’t ask for an explanation for the urgency. Wordlessly, the two of you climb on - your arms tethering around his middle - and JJ starts the engine. Speed limits become a pleasantry rather than a courtesy as JJ speeds to your house. Your phone doesn’t let up the whole journey and with every ping, JJ bumps it up by another mile per hour. It’s a skidding halt when he stops outside your house. He’d only been there a handful of times before, usually to pick you up. Similarly to JJ, you didn’t like going home all that much. You’re climbing off the bike before JJ shuts the engine off. Seemingly at the sound of the engine, your dad emerges in the front door. You turn to JJ. He doesn’t recognise the look on your face.

It terrifies him.

“JJ, you have to leave - now,” you tell him.

He frowns, brows tugging together. “What’re you–”

“Just leave. Go. Please, JJ,” you push, glancing between him and your approaching father. Something softens in your tone, akin to desperation. “Please.”

JJ looks to your dad just as he passes the threshold of the porch, then looks to you once more as if needing approval. You nod as if understanding. The same thought, always shared. Then JJ’s turning tightly in the makeshift drive of your house and starting off down the road before your dad reaches you. He acutely registers the funny feeling, tight in his chest as if something was squeezing his heart and lungs in a vice. It was the same feeling JJ got whenever he went home.

The same feeling JJ got whenever he saw his own father.

As the months went on, the relationship you and JJ shared was soaked in marjuana and sweat. Smoking in the morning and fucking through the night. Not only did you encourage JJ’s idiocy, but you joined it. It was as if you were there to enable the other. Shoplifting beers, pier jumping in the thick of night, skinny dipping before dusk, pulling crazy stunts with the others that nearly wound up getting you killed more times to count. But just like JJ, you were loyal. It was as if the minute you became a Pogue, you wore it like a military title, nothing short of honoured. You’d lay your life down for the group and for the hunt for gold.

JJ wasn’t sure who said I love you first. He’s not even sure if either of you ever said it. You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you. Besides, two avoidant, daddy issue riddled teenagers didn’t make for the most textbook healthy relationship. The two of you would fight and it was bad when you did. But it was a rarity. There was little time for blow-out arguments when you were running from one place to another, chasing lead after lead. Hell, even when you seemed to have time to breathe, something else always came up.

“I never make good grades in school. When I get out, I act like a fool. I come in the party and cause a commotion. Yeah, I’m smooth they call me lotion.”

JJ cracks up with the others, breaking his beatboxing rhythm, as Pope loses his verse. He has a more than comfortable buzz going: energised by the beer and mellowed out by the weed. JJ thought he could handle his stuff well until he met you. This was the first time in a long time the two of you had properly partied together, outside of sharing a joint or doing edibles on an evening. You were about seven cans deep, one joint smoked and two lines of coke snorted. Your hair, now red, was damp from the hot tub; your nose ring sparkling in the disco ball’s reflecting light. JJ tried to keep his attention on the gang but no matter what, his eyes kept running back to you. The bikini top you’re wearing is truly a cruel design. Whoever invented it hated anybody who admired the female figure: they designed it to torture them. The liquor certainly didn’t help the situation, nor did your knowing glances and sly smiles.

"Think Kanye might have some serious competition there," you sardonically quip.

“Alright, alright, let’s hear it then,” Pope challenges, turning the focus to you. Everyone ooo’s dramatically as you laugh. You take a hit of your freshly rolled joint and shrug. As you rise out of the water, moving to sit on the outer edge of the hot tub, the gang erupts into cheers. JJ's mesmerised by the way the droplets of water race down over your tits, trickling down your chest.

“Okay, alright, well someone gimme a beat, at least,” you say.

JJ’s happy to indulge. Laughing, you bop your head along and try to follow.

“I failed the first grade in school, but my teacher told me I’m a cool dude. The kids in the playground scattered, cause my bars would leave them battered–”

The gang whoops and you crack up, trying desperately to stay on track. JJ’s trying desperately not to stare at your chest and lose track of his makeshift beat.

“When I fuck they call me lewd, cause I get freaky when I’m in the wrong mood. My boy never seems to complain, but his dick might be in some pain.”

JJ practically chokes on his laughter. There’s a symphony of cheers and jests and (in Pope’s case) groans from the others, and you throw your hands up in surrender.

“Y’all asked for it! I’m jus’ saying!” you giggle, sinking back into the water. You take another hit of your joint and wink across to JJ. His dick twitches uselessly in his swim shorts as you do so. Such a fucking tease.

“You two were made for each other, Goddamn,” Kiara chuckles.

The pair of you laugh it off but JJ feels his heart stir at the notion. Maybe it’s the weed talking or the alcohol intoxicating his thoughts, but the more time JJ spends with you, the more he’s certain that you two were meant to find each other. There’s no other explanation for it. You were an entire world in one small human being, filled with stories and secrets, some of which he might never know, but most he’d spend his life wanting to.

As the night stretches on and the drinks continue to flow, the mood simmers down from a bubbly celebration to an almost sentimental reunion. The hot tub has been abandoned as the mosquitos began to gather and the air began to cool, and JJ was sick of hearing you and Sarah drop hints about how you were “turning pruney.” So now you sit in the deck chairs with Kiara and Sarah and John B, watching JJ and Pope wrestle. Grappling on Pope’s upper arms, JJ tries to get the upper leg.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, go for the leg,” he lightly encourages his lesser violent friend. With that, Pope tackles JJ onto the floor. He hits the ground with a gentle smack. “You got a new technique now, huh?”

Pope rises in victory, pretty drunk, arms in the air. JJ laughs, sitting up to notice a beer extended out to him in offer from you. He takes it with a grin, having two large swigs.

“I’m done. I’m out of here,” Pope announces to nobody in particular, walking away from the campfire.

“You want a round two?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll take my losses,” Pope replies. JJ begins wandering back over to you with a shrug just as Kiara suddenly gets up from her seat. She flashes Sarah some kind of look that girls must track better than boys, as Sarah and yourself gape at her.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Way to be discreet!” JJ hollers after them. When he steals Kiara’s chair, sitting beside you, you’re still giggling.

“Okay, am I just oblivious or did nobody else notice them vibing on each other?” you wonder, looking to the others.

“Dude. Seriously?” JJ sniggers.

“I didn’t notice!”

“How could you not– You know what? It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Only one of us needs to be the love expert here,” JJ reassures, stretching his arm out over the back of your chair in what he thinks is a rather suave manner. You snort, gently brushing it off.

“Love expert? Uh-huh. Sure, kiddo.”

“Kiddo,” John B mutters, amused.

JJ scoffs, grinning at you. “Oh really?”

“Yep,” you return, not quite sure what you’re arguing over now. JJ decides to put an end to it by squeezing the sides of your exposed stomach, tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. As he does so, John B mumbles something about being out of beer. Sarah follows him and leaves you and JJ in the company of the music, the cicadas and chickens.

“Thought you danced,” JJ says, referring to the music, thinking back to the night at the kegger.

“I might do later.”

JJ just nods and the two of you smile at one another, the playfulness of the moment easing away the same way the arousal had earlier in the hottub.

“You’re so handsome,” you quietly tell him. "My good looking boy, huh?"

JJ chuckles, looking down, bashful whenever you threw compliments like that at him. He could handle ‘sexy’ or ‘hot’ rather well, took them in stride, but words like handsome were like flakes of gold being sprinkled in his hair. They felt valuable, especially when they came from your mouth. Not always the best with words, JJ thanks the self-medication for what falls out of his mouth next.

“You’re the prettiest Goddamn thing on this planet.”

You’re visibly stunned and JJ wants to high-five himself. Giving him a coy smile, you lean your head back against your seat, staring into the star scattered sky.

“God, I could just stay here forever,” you sigh.

JJ mimics your actions. He traces the stars and tries to see if he can make constellations of your face. He glances at you and notices how they reflect on your eyes, as if scattering diamonds into your irises to make them shimmer. Your skin is kissed amber by the fairy lights strung in the branches above. Everything just makes you glow: ethereal. A foot kicking his own snaps JJ out of his lovesick stupor. A rather amused John B smirks knowingly down at him.

“It’s creepy to stare, man,” John B joshingly berates.

“He does it all the time,” you mumble. “That’s why I asked him out.”

Sarah laughs at that and you crack up too, but before another conversation can begin, your laughter dies down and your brows furrow.

“What was that?” John B asks, as if reading your mind.

“Your chickens?” JJ wonders, having heard nothing but the incessant clucking of the birds.

“It sounded like a car door,” you mumble. JJ, distracted, begins to cluck like a chicken, hoping to lighten the mood, more drunk than he thought he was, but your hand presses over his mouth to silence him. You rise to your feet slowly and JJ decides to follow. He squints into the distance.

“I think someone’s here,” John B mutters.

“Up the trees. Quickly” you instruct, fast to take action.

You shut off the music as Sarah hurries to put out the fire. JJ decides to help her, tossing handfuls of sand atop of the flames. He looks to the tree to find you already a decent way up. He stands by the bottom of the other tree with John B to help give Sarah a boost, aware of the fragility of her stitches, and then lets John B go up before himself. He settles on the same branch as you, a hand protectively settling on your waist. You’d already taken a rather reckless course of action in Charleston with Renfield, trying to tackle the taser from his hands to buy all of you more time to run. In case you felt the urge to drop from the trees in some surprise attack, JJ could now hold you back.

Sure enough, only a couple of minutes later, Rafe and Barry creep into the backyard. JJ feels you stiffen and he tightens his grip just slightly in reassurance. They didn’t know you were in the trees. God bless your quick thinking. Barry makes his way into the house, gun raised and ready, whilst Rafe studies the spots you’d all been relaxing in only moments prior.

“Where the hell are you?” he mumbles to himself.

None of you speak. None of you dare breathe let alone move. JJ looks to John B and Sarah, who look just as troubled as he feels. Rafe was unpredictable. Unstrung. And it was easy to assume that JJ was not on Barry’s nice list, that was for sure. As they sit and lie in wait, praying not to be spotted, Barry and Rafe seem to decide that nobody’s home. As he’s about to take a sigh of relief, Rafe fires the gun up into the trees. His heart jumps and his chest heaves. The bullet ricochets off the trunk of the tree near his back. You flinch in JJ’s hold at the gunshots and the shock nearly has you losing your balance. JJ quickly shifts his hand higher up your side, leaning as close to you as physically possible to whisper in your ear.

“I got you,” he reassures.

Barry thankfully ushers Rafe away at that point but none of you dare move until you the car is long out of sight. Sighing, you relax against JJ and him against you. It was ironic how the two of you were no strangers to violence and yet, the same spark of fear was alight anytime either of you were faced with it.

You see, the same way ‘I love you’ didn’t need an explanation, neither did yours and JJ’s homelives. JJ never intended to introduce you to his father and he never met yours. More times than not, you’d meet and hang and sleep at the Chateau. If you spent time at one of your two house’s, it was when it was empty. The cuts and bruises that would appear on either of your bodies never came with questioning. Somehow, someway, the two of you knew how and where. You’d soundlessly clean them and console the other and the whole thing would be as forgotten as a terrorist attack: over, in the back of the mind, but never fully erased. The anger JJ felt whenever he saw you after you’d had a run-in with your father was different to that which he felt when he had a run-in with his own. Deeper, darker, more vengeful. One night, it reached its crux.

JJ wakes up with a start. At first he isn’t sure what snapped him out of sleep. Then, he hears it again. A faint creaking in the floorboards from the main body of his house. His house that he now lives in alone. What if his dad came back? JJ gets out of bed dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpant shorts. He slowly picks up a spanner that’s laying on his bedroom floor, ditched after a day trying to switch out the deck of his skateboard, and pushes his door open carefully. He slowly inches down the almost pitch-black hallway. The only light is that from the window: moonbeams that shine through the glass.

At the sight of your silhouette, JJ lets out a heavy sigh. The spanner falls to the ground with an echoing thud.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the crap outta me,” JJ says with a relieved laugh. He makes his way across the room to you but his smile fades when he notices how stiff you are. “You a’right?”

This close, he can begin to make out your face through the dark. It’s haunting.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” JJ breathes, horrified.

Dark bags sit under your eyes which are hollowed out as if you’d been lost at sea, a vacant stare that almost looks past him. Your lip is quivering. Small, shaky, shallow breaths come in and out of your mouth. The worst part? The blood.

His hands fly up toward your face and your eyes clamp shut quickly as preparing for a hit. JJ freezes before he touches your skin, slowing his movements, trying to ease his own panic. His eyes scan your features, counting the injuries, trying to see the damage beneath the gore.

“What the fuck happened?”

You don’t talk. Nothing but that same ominous silence. You’re in shock. JJ’s seen it before from when he pulled over at a motorcycle crash. It’s as if the mind retreats in on itself and guards from the unpredictable. JJ swallows and clenches his jaw, trying to steal himself.

“A’right, we, uh, we gotta clean you up,” he manages. He carefully links his fingers through yours and feels your barely tangible grip. Then he guides you into the bathroom. Lowers you gently onto the toilet seat. In his peripheral vision, he sees no sign of movement or acknowledgement as he retrieves the beloved first aid kit from the bathroom cupboard. It balances precariously on the edge of the sink as he digs about for cleaning supplies.

JJ starts with your face. Your upper lip is busted at the edge, coated in dry blood but already beginning to scab. When you get in as many bruise ups as JJ, you learn to have a strange appreciation and fascination with the human body in how it heals. The antiseptic must sting but you don’t even blink. You just stare past him. Even before, you’d never been this detached. You might be angry or frustrated or even upset, but never absent. Never this. The blood around your eye comes from a gash just across your right brow. There’s an impressive bruise on the apple of your left cheek and a telling pink handprint that refuses to fade on your right. The fury begins to chip at JJ’s resolve.

Following your bizarre routine, JJ moves to unbutton your shirt, to check for any signs of internal bleeding, broken ribs, open cuts or ugly bruises across your upper body. The minute his fingers brush your sternum, your hands fly up. He’s not even sure how he winds up on the floor and it takes a moment to piece together the seconds and register that it was you. Frowning, thoroughly alarmed, JJ’s head shoots up to find your chest heaving. You make a noise as if you’re crying but no tears fall. His lips part in horror and his mind scrambles for any explanation other than the obvious.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey,” JJ hurries, rocking onto his knees and planting his hands reassuringly on yours. Your whole body is shaking. “It’s a’right, yeah? Jus’ me. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Your eyes clamp shut and the tears begin to fall.

"You're safe now."

After a trembling inhale, you begin to sob. Heartbroken, hideous, harrowing sobs. JJ feels tears swirl in his waterline at the sight and sound. He knew you better than anyone - better than the Lord himself - and to see you so far from who you are was like seeing someone’s body turn inside out. Unsure of what to do, he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace and lets you fall into him.

You just cry.

Later, JJ sits outside the bathroom. His back is pressed against the door. Inside, he can hear the slosh of the bath water from time to time when you shift. He meddles with the rings on his fingers. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip. JJ assesses his options. He knows the “right” thing to do and he knows the “wrong” thing to do, and he knows the one he prefers out of the two, even if he shouldn't. His eyes flit over to the pile of your clothes that he’d taken out the room with him, back turned to give you privacy when you changed (as if you hadn’t given your body to him countless times before). The blood stained shirt. The shorts that had a telling rip at the crotch, the zip practically shattered. The missing panties. His throat turns thick and his eyes clench shut, forehead falling down against his clenched fists. He tries desperately to breathe through the anger. Before he can reach any sort of conclusion, he hears you get out of the bathtub. A few minutes later, the twisting doorknob prompts him to stand. You stand dressed in his clothes and offer him a small smile, and JJ feels his whole body sigh with relief.

“How you feelin’?” JJ asks.

You shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Exhausted.”

“Anything hurting still?”

“No,” you say. You walk past him and into his bedroom and he follows. Climbing onto his bed, you wrap yourself up on his side in the blankets. JJ heads to the kitchen to grab some water and pain meds before coming back and joining you, sitting against the headrest, unsure whether to touch you or not. You seem to answer the question for him. You cuddle into his side and nestle your head against his upper chest. His hands coil safely around your body, holding you close, and he plants a kiss on top of your head. Then he finally speaks.

“We need to go to the cops.”

You sigh and close your eyes. “JJ, no–”

“You don’t even gotta press charges but they have to know.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you know how it is, JJ,” you argue, sitting up to face him. “It’s my word against his and he never technically did anything. They’ll take one look at him and listen to my story, and then probably get me to recount it a million times over to a million other strangers. To a million other men. It’s humiliating and it’s pointless and I don’t want to do it.”

“It ain’t pointless and there’s nothing humiliating about it,” JJ insists. “You’re the victim here–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, glaring at him.

Sighing, JJ closes his eyes and clenches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool. The last thing you need tonight is another fight. Besides, it’s not as if you’re wrong. JJ trusted the police as far as he could throw them; he didn’t doubt that they’d be useless. But the thought of you going back to your dad and for him to get away with what he did…JJ didn’t know what other option you really had. Your fingers gently wrap around JJ’s hand, easing it away from his face, coaxing his eyes to meet yours.

“Two more months, JJ.”

He sighs again but you’re quick to continue.

“Two more months and I’m eighteen and he isn’t my legal guardian anymore! I don’t have to deal with the whole rigged court system or with a foster home - I can just be rid of him for good.”

“Two more months? You think I’m gonna let you go back there for two more months after this?” JJ scoffs, eyeing up your injuries. His stomach churns and jaw ticks at the thought of what could’ve happened if you hadn’t managed to get the upper hand. You sigh and look away.

“I don’t know…Maybe he won’t do it again.”

“If he does it once, he’ll do it again,” JJ mutters. He remembers having the same thought the first time his dad hit him. It was an accident. He apologised. He didn’t mean it. By the end, JJ was on cloud nine if he went a week without a smack. But your situation was somehow even heavier than that. His stomach churns again.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, sounding nothing short of defeated.

JJ just tugs you back against his chest. You trace a finger over his chest in swirling patterns as if personifying the state of his mind. Maybe you could live with JJ. I mean, you practically already did. The two of you were rarely away from the Chateau these days, and once you were eighteen - just as you said - your dad had no hold on you. Maybe if the Pogues could get the cross then JJ could finally afford that big pastel blue house for you, with the wrap around porch, and guard dogs to sick ‘em anytime your dad came within a fifty mile radius of you. Maybe–

JJ’s eyes widen. It hits him. His best idea to date.

“Marry me.”

JJ isn’t sure he actually said it for a while because you don’t speak. You don’t even move.

“What did you just say?”

“Marry me.”

You immediately start to laugh. You shake your head against his chest. “Jesus Christ. Did you slip and hit your bed whilst I was in the bathtub?”

“I’m serious. Marry me,” JJ says. Maybe it’s his tone that cuts off your hysterics. You quickly break out of his hold again and look at him, studying his expression. Your eyes widen.

“Holy shit, you really are serious,” you mumble.

“Marry me,” JJ repeats as if those are the only words he knows how to say.

You laugh, bewildered, “JJ, we’re seventeen.”

“So.”

“So? So…We’re seventeen!” you cackle. “We can’t get married JJ.”

“Who says?” JJ shrugs, beginning to smile. You haven’t said no.

“Um let’s see,” you mumble, lifting your fingers to count. “The court…The law…Our parents.”

“We don’t have parents.”

“Maybe not good or present ones, but we still have legal guardians, JJ.”

“Those are all technicals–”

“-Technicalities-”

“-Whatever. Point is, those are irrelevant,” JJ says, wafting it away. His hands grab yourself in a tight clutch. Your mouth remains perfectly parted, slightly upturned at the corners. It only pushes his smile. “I know you’re it for me. I ain’t good at all the sappy-dappy-love-crap, but I’ve been in love with you since I was a kid–”

“--JJ–”

“--And I don’t want anybody else! Ever. We’re a team, ain’t we? Hunt for gold together, spend our life together.” When you study him in silence for a while, JJ tags on, “I mean, I’m gonna do it eventually so I might as well do it now.”

“That is insane reasoning to propose, JJ,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. Even if your face is half beaten beyond recognition, JJ knows you’re the most beautiful girl on the planet. The moment he knew he shared the same earth as you, JJ wanted you to be in his life. And you still haven’t said no.

“I love you,” JJ says, plain and simple. Shaking his head slightly, he grins. “P4L, right? I mean, we really got nothing to lose here.”

You stare at him and scoff, quiet and underbreath, almost fascinated. Your eyes slip shut and JJ begins to grin because he knows. A deep, heavy sigh, and you laugh again.

“God help me, I must have gone crazy,” you mutter. Your eyes open into his. Then you smile the prettiest smile the world has ever seen. “Yes. I’ll marry you, JJ Maybank.”

JJ wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. You giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer and closer. When you break apart, barely a hair’s width between your damp lips, you smile as you speak.

“My good looking boy.”

Five Years Later

Whiskey isn’t quite caramel. No, it’s more tawny. More gingerbread coloured, especially in this hue, illuminated by the crappy bar lighting hanging above JJ’s head. His knuckles knock against the side of the cool glass, mesmerised by the sound of his metal rings clinking, distracted in his drunken haze by the bobbing of the three ice cubes in the liquor.

“JJ.”

His head sluggishly lifts at the sound of his name. He comes face to face with the long-time bartender, Corbin.

“It’s last orders, man. You wanting a refill?” Corbin asks.

JJ sighs and shakes his head. “Nah, I better not. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one,” Corbin replies.

JJ nods then repeats, “nah, I better not.”

“You wanting to settle up for that now?” he wonders, glancing down at JJ’s half full drink.

JJ swallows and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “I, uh…Just put it on my tab for now, a’right?”

Corbin sighs. “Look, JJ. I’ve known you a long time so I’ve been letting it slide but this tab’s starting to stack up. You gotta pay it sometime.”

JJ shoots him a glare; his emotions twisted by the alcohol. “And I’m gonna. I just…Things are a lil’ tight right now so I can’t settle it just yet.”

Corbin decides not to push the topic. He does as he’s asked and adds JJ’s three whiskey on ice beverages to his resume-like tab. When he leaves to square things away at some other end of the bar, JJ glances around the room.

Corbin’s bar, Grub Bucket, hadn’t changed in anybody’s lifetime. JJ could recall coming out here as a kid on the hunt for his dad and sneaking past the intimidating bikers out front, weaving through the drunken fools of Kildare to find his dad almost paralytic near the pool tables. The smell was the same too: musty and beer drenched and tired. JJ wonders if he finds the smell comforting - nostalgic maybe. At the sight of several patrons leaving through the door into the pitch-black night, JJ remembers himself and the time, and he downs the last of his drink. The bitter sting is soothing on his tongue and eases the ache, and it goes down easy like a crisp, cool apple juice back in grade school.

He staggers out the bar and stumbles the familiar route home. It’s as engraved in his mind as the journey to the shops or the docks. Home appears through thick overgrowth. It’s a piece of shit trailer, obvious even in this lighting, that’s discoloured and dirty on the exterior. There are weeds that protrude from below the body of the home and gas canisters lined beside overflowing trash cans and countless fishing, surf and mechanic crap. The recycling bin is always full of empty wine bottles and cans of beer.

The stairs creak in concern as he makes his way up them. The third is broken in the middle and even intoxicated, he has the sense to avoid it. A squeaky door that needs the entirety of his body weight to open, his shoulder slamming into the upper left, and the instant smell of damp desperately trying to be combated with some cheap candle from Goodwill.

There’s few rooms in the trailer. A kitchen with about one empty counter to cook, that shares the same area as a living space. A couch that JJ found abandoned on a roadside sits before a crackly television, divided by a thrifted coffee table. The World Atlas was proving useful keeping the latter piece of furniture upheld on the far right leg. The area is littered with belongings, tight on space and storage. Trash takes up a lot of space too, as much as he hates to admit it. A strategically placed poster-print conceals a concerning dent in the wall that may signify rats at one time had made this trailer their home. That could explain the steal that JJ got it for.

The bathroom is where JJ’s legs take him next. Here, with the door closed, he can turn on the light. It takes three flicks of the switch and the buzz that it generates might remind a war veteran of a looming grenade. The shower is permanently discoloured and runs warm perhaps once a year, so JJ skips that stage. Instead he looks into the dirty mirror. His exhausted face greets him through blurry vision and speckles of toothpaste. A well-used toothbrush is rushed around his mouth and he spits into a dusty sink that drains frustratingly slowly. A quick piss and JJ is all washed up.

He’s careful not to turn on the light when he makes his way into the bedroom. By now, it must nearly be two in the morning. The boots come off first, followed by his shorts, socks and shirt. Clad in only boxers, JJ can make out the bed through the dark and slides under the covers. His eyes slip shut and his body tries to relax.

“It’s late.”

His eyes clench shut. Shit.

“I, uh, didn’t know you’d still be awake.”

“I was waiting up for you to come home,” comes your mumbled response. JJ looks over to you: your back facing him as he lies on his.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Hard not to when your husband’s out until two in the morning without texting or calling.”

JJ’s brows knit together. “My phone died,” he mutters.

“Convenient.”

Sighing, JJ runs a hand along his forehead and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Look, I’m really fuckin’ tired, a’right? It’s been a long day and I just wanna–”

“You’re tired?” you hiss, turning over and sitting up. Fuck. “You’re fucking tired, JJ? Where the hell where you!?”

“Out!”

"Oh! Out! God, I don't know why I didn't think to check there!" you tunefully say.

JJ grits his teeth. The exhaustion and booze make a sticky concoction, flammable to the smallest fuse. “I don’t have to fucking give you a play by play of what I’m doing. I’m my own fucking person.”

“Okay, sure, JJ. You can finish work at five in the Goddamn afternoon and not reappear until two in the Goddamn morning without a text or call. I mean, what a fucking evil wife I am for worrying about you being - oh, I don’t know - dead in a ditch somewhere or sat in a fucking cell. I mean, I’m just bitter to the bone.”

At your spiel, JJ sits up in bed, propping himself up with his elbows. “Yeah, it’s such a fucking Goddamn surprise that I’m in no rush to come home when this is the fucking greeting I get!”

“Don’t come home at two in the morning and you won’t get this type of greeting!” you screech back.

The two of you meet eyes through the dark. Your faces are contorted in anger: brows tugged close together, lips downturned in ugly frowns, tired eyes narrowed at one another.

“Jesus Christ - what? You need me to give you a text every two minutes or some shit? Tell you where I am every two seconds?”

“Right, yeah, that’s what I said, JJ,” you argue, gesturing violently with your words. “I said, ‘send me a text every time you take a breath of air’. No, no, you’re right: I said, ‘put a tracker in your fucking penis and then maybe I know where it’s going’.”

He studies your face a moment and scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re try’na incinerate there but–”

“It’s insinuate - you fucking idiot - and I think you know damn well what I’m referring to,” you spit. Your voice sounds almost as bitter as the liquor JJ was drinking peacefully only an hour ago. Maybe he should have just stayed at the bar.

“Go on, then. Say it with your fucking chest, then,” JJ urges, sitting up in bed too.

You glower at him. “Pearl.”

“Oh my fuckin’...” JJ can’t help but laugh right in your face. It’s ludicrous! It only seems to worsen your rage, not that JJ could care at this moment. “You really think I’m out hooking up with someone? Is that seriously what you’re accusing me of?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” is your all-to-quick reply. “You spend all night in a bar and come home smelling like booze. Wouldn’t be surprised if you were hooking up with her, or some other whore. I mean, who else would want you?”

JJ can’t think clearly through the blinding rage. His vision goes blurry and this time, it isn’t from the alcohol. There’s the distant fear that he might crack a tooth from how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. He feels his fist close up around the sheets.

“You better think really fucking hard about what you just said to me,” he lowly says.

Your brows raise. “Is that a threat?”

JJ doesn’t reply. Decides it might be best not to. It’s hard to side with that thought process though because a smirk slowly but surely begins to sneak onto your face. There’s this viciousness in your eyes that JJ used to be unable to recognise, before El Dorado. Before life got somehow all the more real.

“Starting to sound like your dad now, huh, Maybank?”

Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Don’t say–

JJ leans in close to your face. Can feel your heavy breath on his cheeks. See the emotions swirling like a thunderstorm in your eyes. The thin veil of tears in your waterline. He hardly recognises his own voice.

“I wish I was fucking some whore. Anything’s better than being in this bed with you.”

Your whole demeanour shifts. It’s palpable. The room is hot and suffocating. The words hang in the air and JJ hates himself for not being sure if he even wants to take them back, even if he doesn’t mean it. He just wanted you to hurt. And what an awful thing to want.

JJ hates this. He hates how the two of you know just the right buttons to press and just the right things to say to make the other furious. To break one another down. When two people fall in love, you learn everything about the other. It’s not just the intimate details - how somebody looks naked, the way they react to every touch, every kiss, their favourite song, the way they talk when they’re drunk - but also the sensitive stuff. The traumas and the skeletons and the insecurities.

“Get out,” you spit.

“Get out?” JJ laughs incredulously.

“Get out! Get the fuck out of this bed now,” you seeth. JJ doesn’t move. As if possessed, you grab at your pillow and toss it at him. “Get out!” Toss your book too.

JJ dodges them, bats them away. “You’re fucking psycho! Do you fucking see yourself!” he shouts.

“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!” you scream.

But JJ doesn’t. He should. In fact, he should go for a walk and let the two of you calm down, and then discuss it in the morning with a civilised conversation, just as you would do when you were both younger. But JJ was never the one to make the right decision. Instead, he feels himself smile. Then, he settles leisurely on his back, snuggling into the sheets like a child returning home after a long day out. His body aches from a hard day’s labour at the docks, stomach empty save for the booze. Even with his eyes closed, JJ can see your glare. It’s ice cold and sends shivers along his spine.

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mutter.

Another rustle of the sheets, the mattress dips, heavy footsteps, a slamming door, and you’re out of the room. The door shivers in the rickety frame and the noise seems to echo around the room. JJ slowly opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. He runs a hand along his jawline as he sighs, feeling the ever growing stubble that he can’t find the motivation to shave. He used to, wanting to keep up appearances for the job market, but it seemed futile now. Pointless. The feeling of satisfaction that came from winning the fight was fleeting, passing as quick as a poppers-buzz. Now, the ugly emotions seep in as JJ wallows in the lonely silence. The emotions JJ usually wards off with whiskey and beer and weed and cocaine. The guilt and the shame and the self-loathing. The sympathy and the heartache. The awful things he said to you bounce around in his head like a ping pong ball. The awful things you said to him bury deep in his heart. When he closes his eyes again, trying to mellow out his breathing and drift off, he can hear your sniffles through the door.

You never used to hide your tears from him.

Sighing, JJ clamps his hands over his face and fights the urge to scream. Why does he do this? Why does it keep happening? Why can’t you both just stop?

After thirty minutes, sleep is nowhere to be seen. The sniffling has stopped in the other room but JJ doubts you’re asleep either. Soon enough, he can’t stand the internal struggle anymore. He gets to his feet and makes his way into the living room before he can lose his nerve.

You’re lying on your side on the sofa, bundled up with a moth-nibbled blanket. JJ can’t see your face from here but he knows you’re awake. Dating you for five years meant he learnt to pick up on things like that. Walking over, he comes to the back of the sofa and reaches over to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“You awake?” he rasps.

A pause, and then, “yes.”

“Come to bed.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got that stupid interview tomorrow and you’re going to hate yourself for sleeping on this fucking thing in the morning.”

And I can’t fall asleep unless you’re next to me.

“You remembered I have an interview?” you mumble.

“Course,” JJ mumbles back, as if embarrassed that he remembers something his wife told him. “So come to bed.”

You don’t say anything else. JJ has a million things he could say. They’re things that he should say and that he wants to but it’s like his mouth is soldered shut. He can’t let them pass as if they might incriminate him. Oh no! She’ll know I care about her! Instead, he swallows and removes his hand, sighing as he turns to return to the bedroom.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” he says. Again, there’s no response.

Only after JJ has closed the bedroom door does he hear movement from the sofa. By the time you reappear, he’s already in bed, curled up on his side, facing the wall. You make your way to the right of the bed. There’s the thud of the blanket joining the floor before you sneak under the sheets and shuffle about until you’re settled.

The two of you don’t cuddle that night just like you don’t most nights. Neither of you apologise. Neither of you say a word. But just as JJ’s about to drift off, he feels the faintest press of your lips to the back of his bare shoulder.

When JJ wakes up in the morning, you’ve already left. His head hurts the moment he opens his eyes. Groaning, he tosses the sheets off and sits up on the edge of his bed. JJ’s aching back was a common companion to his life since El Dorado. He’d fallen funny on the adventure and seemingly fucked it up for life. Lifting heavy cargo at the docks probably didn’t help much but what choice did he have? You both needed the money desperately.

The hunt for the gold went sour. Not only did Ward Cameron steal it and use it, but Rafe stole the cross and melted the timeless relic down into chunks. At first they thought El Dorado - the timeless mystery - was a possibility. JJ believed it too. In trying to get himself and John B there, he’d got himself in pretty hot water back in Kildare. That and the eviction notice plastered to his dad’s house meant that coming back home, empty handed, meant tough living. At first, the two of you persevered. You took the loss as best you could and started out on your life together. A courthouse wedding marked the beginning of your new life, gold-less but not loveless. The Pogues threw a party at the Chateau afterwards. JJ sent out an invitation to his dad at his last known address but he never showed. You never invited yours and thankfully he stayed away. Not long after was he arrested. That was a good day. You’d sold your father’s house and used that money to buy the trailer you and JJ now resided in. It was supposed to be a temporary spot but you fell on rough times. That was almost four years ago.

The day at work dragged on like any other. After missing one shift at the local grocers, JJ was fired and had to take the next available job to let the two of you meet rent. Now he spends his hours (nearly seven days a week) fixing up old fishing rigs. It was gruelling work: lifting and slamming and hammering and loading. Even in the September air, the summer less stifling than before, JJ works up a sweat. He doesn’t have enough food to spare for things like pack dinners so he goes off an apple during his breaks. Sometimes Pope would offer JJ some food if they crossed paths but JJ didn’t want to be a charity case. He was aware how frail the two of you looked though: having about one semi-decent meal a day. Just as the day begins to wrap to a close - the amber sun low in the sky - does Billy, his employer, come over to JJ as he’s scrubbing his hands.

“Goddamn oil, swear to God,” he mutters under breath, scratching tirelessly at the skin.

“Hey, JJ, we gotta talk,” Billy sighs.

JJ looks up and wipes his hands dry on his shirt. “What’s up?”

“Look, uh…” The moment Billy clears his throat, JJ knows what’s coming. “I hate to do this, man, but I gotta let you go.”

“Dude, seriously?” JJ sighs.

“Look, it ain’t your fault, Jay. I just…The business is going under and I can’t keep all you guys on anymore. I hate to do this to you, I really do, man. I've got your last paycheck here but you, uh, don’t gotta come in on Monday,” Billy not-so-delicately tells him, digging in his pocket and retrieving a white envelope. As he hands it over, he adds, “sorry.”

“Yeah, well,” JJ sighs, taking the money, “sorry don’t pay the bills, does it?”

Before Billy can reply, JJ pockets the paycheck and sets off from the docks towards his truck. He had to trade in his bike a few years back when the two of you married: a truck seemed more practical, especially for the plans you had. The anxiety seeps in as he starts his engine and only rises the closer he gets to home like a flood caused by a running tap in a home. Rubbing at his heart, trying to alleviate the nerves, JJ takes a breath and turns up the drive. He never used to feel this way when coming home to you. In fact, it used to be the highlight of his day. Now he just prays that he can get through the door without the two of you falling into an argument.

You’re standing at the stove, steam billowing up from the pan that you’re stirring, and at the sound of JJ shoving his way through the entrance, you turn and offer a small smile. It seems like an olive branch for last night.

“Hey,” you say.

“Yo,” JJ hums, closing the door. He heads for the pile of envelopes on the cluttered breakfast bar and flicks through them. Every FINAL NOTICE makes him cringe. One is already open and he slips the letter out, but you speak before he has a chance to read a word.

“We got a week until they shut the gas off,” you tell him.

“Well, I got the solution to that.”

JJ tries his best to smile as he holds the envelope up. Gasping, you abandon the stove and grin, taking it from him and scanning over the amount. He’s ashamed by his surprise when you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. He doesn’t have a chance to respond; you’re back at the stove, stirring dinner, within seconds.

“Yeah, well, that’s the good news,” JJ says.

Frowning, concerned, you look over your shoulder to him. “There’s bad news?”

JJ can’t meet your gaze as he tells you, “I got let go.”

“What? But I thought–”

“Yeah, me too,” JJ sighs, shaking his head. He leans against the fridge and feels it shudder at his weight. The bottles of cheap wine clink together tellingly and JJ tries not to cringe. “Anyway, how’d your interview go?”

You shake your head, looking back to the pan. “They said they’d let me know in three or so days but I don’t know…They were hard to read.”

He watches you in the artificial light, your now naturally coloured hair looking almost unrecognisable in the glow. You’d stopped dying it a couple years ago because you thought it might make finding work easier. It didn’t. Two ex-convicts, one of which had arguably the worst reputation in Kildare, who disappeared for several months at a time as teenagers. No high school degree, no college degree, no qualifications or former training, and no reputable name to fall back on. JJ contemplates coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you against him. He wants to dance with you in the kitchen to non-existent music and then cuddle up on the couch, sharing a joint and putting the world to right. But he doesn’t. Instead, JJ stays by the fridge.

“I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“Maybe. You going back to the job centre tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” JJ echos. He should. It’s hard though. It feels as though every time one of you picks yourself up and dusts yourself off, you get kicked to the dirt again. Jobs felt as unstable and unpromising as a rebound relationship. If either of you can hold down a job in the shaky economy that was the Cut on Kildare, then something in the house needs replacing, and you’re somehow still as broke as you were to start.

Neither of you bring up the argument from last night even though you should. Instead, you eat your dinner in mostly silence as the radio drones on in the background about the weather and the news. JJ’s apology lingers on his tongue but with every mouthful of his grits, it gets brushed away. It stays that way as the evening drags on. One glass of cheap red wine turns into two and three. Somewhere in the tipsy haze, the two of you find one another, naked under the sheets. His bare chest brushes against yours as he kisses desperately at your neck, thrusting into you. As his hands caress along your familiar figure, it feels as though you’re miles away. Or maybe it’s him. Maybe he isn’t the one that’s present, as if standing across the room, watching it all unfold. Your heavy breaths in his ear don’t excite him as they did before. The feeling of your walls squeezing around him doesn’t send him spiralling the same way it used to. It feels as if he’s just going through the motions. Chasing the brief wave of euphoria and distracting himself from the maelstrom of anxiety that is his mind lately. No job, no family, no future.

“Harder, JJ,” you sigh against his shoulder, your breath warm on his damp skin.

He hardly registers your words and only responds when one of your hands coaxes his hips deeper. Something about the new angle hits JJ just right. His eyes slip shut, a groan falling past his lips as he shudders against your body. He comes rather quickly: the white hot pleasure fast as it passes through him. He lingers inside of you a moment. You lay stone still underneath him.

“Did you just come?” you ask.

“Yeah, I just came,” JJ sighs, pulling out of you. Sighing, chest heaving, he flops onto his back beside you. He can feel your stare the same way he did last night. As if trying to escape it, his eyes slip shut.

“Are you fucking serious, JJ?”

“You know your body better anyway. Go to town,” JJ mumbles. He’s aware of how douchey he sounds but he feels a thousand miles away. He’d only disappoint you anyway. It feels like all he does is disappoint you.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, climbing out of bed and heading presumably to the bathroom to piss. The door slams the same as it did last night. More arguments and JJ will have to replace the hinges. Just another thing in the house that’ll be added to the list of repairs, with the thing at the top being your relationship. As JJ works through the list in his mind, he drifts off to sleep. He isn’t sure if you ever came back to bed. You’re gone when he wakes up in the morning.

“I don’t understand man,” John B says. “Why don’t you two just get a divorce?”

JJ’s head snaps to face his best friend. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying–”

“--John B–”

“--You guys are miserable,” he finishes, not letting JJ cut him off. Groaning, JJ shakes his head and paces away. “It’s not like divorce is frowned upon in your family! Your parents did it, hers did it - hell, mine did it too!”

“I don’t wanna divorce her,” JJ says, turning around. He takes his cap from his head and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s damp with sweat from the humid heat of the day. He’d been at his lifelong best friend’s house since eight in the morning, helping to clear up the yard and fix the jetty. Whilst unemployed, JJ may as well keep himself busy. As always, the conversation had veered into relationship territory: John B and Sarah, and JJ and you. The fight was two weeks in the past. You hadn’t let JJ have sex with you since. JJ wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. It just made him feel more confused and disconnected. He didn’t like being the reason you were upset.

“There’s no shame in it,” John B assures. “You guys were a good fit when we were teenagers but now you’ve grown up and life’s gotten hard. That’s okay.”

“She’s it for me, JB,” JJ states. He wanders over and lovingly pats him on the back, making his way to the cooler for another beer. “I ain’t giving up on us.”

“Cool. So, you’ll just stay stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life then. Awesome,” comes John B’s sardonic response.

“It’s not loveless. It’s just…going through a rough patch.”

“A two year long rough patch?”

“It’s not as simple as ‘divorce her’,” JJ sighs. The crisp crack of the beer sounds like heaven’s gates opening. “She’s the girl of my literal childhood dreams. And things have been hard for her too. We don’t mean to fight, we just…do.”

“Denial is a six-letter word my friend. You know what else is?”

“Don’t say it–”

“Trauma.”

“JB–”

“I get it! Your dad was shitty and you’re trying to break the cycle! But maybe you can’t! Maybe there isn’t a cycle! Maybe that’s just life!”

“Look, I don’t therapise you so how about you don’t therapise me,” JJ suggests. He tosses a beer to the brown haired man. His face isn’t all that different from when they were young. The crows feet around his eyes are deeper set, as are the laughter and frown lines along his forehead. The stubble on his beard challenges JJ’s. “I’m not gonna give up on us. We just need to reconnect. I feel like we’re always at odds.”

Sighing, John B relents. He clinks his can against JJ’s in an informal cheers. “Well, I hope you’re right and you guys can figure it out. I just want you happy, man.”

Happy. JJ hardly knew the meaning of the word these days.

He lingers at John B’s house until sunset, when Sarah returns from the hospital. She’d managed to get a spot on a nursing course and was blazing through it. She’d tried to get both you and JJ employed there too but the criminal check killed any chance. She offers for JJ to stay for dinner but he declines, saying that he should head home. The walk back is filled with unnecessary diversions. He goes to the pier where he saw you jump as a kid. He goes by the grocery store that the two of you used to shoplift beers from. He wanders along the coastline where you used to skinny dip in the dead of night. Somehow, JJ ends up outside what used to be his home. Nobody had bought it after the bank repossessed it. Sitting in dilapidation, nature reclaims the isolated structure. It’s barely recognisable to JJ. Seeing it in such a way makes JJ question if his childhood was even real. The traumatic memories feel as though they don’t fit well on this canvas: it’s too peaceful and serene. He leans down and grabs a large rock from the floor and hurls it towards one of the windows. It shatters through the glass and thuds as it lands on the floorboards inside. A small smile pushes onto JJ’s ageing face. That’s better. He continues to walk home.

It’s pitch black outside by the time JJ makes it back. He wonders if you might have gone to bed as he walks up the porch steps, dodging the broken one, reminding himself to fix it. The house is cast in a warm glow from the living room floor lamp when JJ walks in. The kitchen has been cleaned up and for once seems almost homely. His eyes are immediately drawn to your frame, sat crossed legged on the sofa. A large shoebox sits on the coffee table, the lid off, and a stack of old VHS tapes sit in a pile to its right. There’s a bottle of open red wine and a half filled glass too. You’re looking down at something.

“Hey,” he says, closing the door behind him.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

You finally look up. You’d put your nose ring back in and it shines under the gentle glare of the lamp. A smile blesses your features. “I was going through the closet to see if I could sell some old clothes and found the picture box. Remember how we were gonna hang some up when we first moved here? I think we still should.”

JJ grabs a glass for himself and joins you on the sofa. You smell like soap and shea butter. He pours himself a glass of wine.

“Look,” you say, holding the picture out for him to see. He places down in his glass on the table and takes the photo from you. JJ chuckles quietly under breath. It’s of John B and JJ when they were younger; they sit on their surfboards, legs submerged in the water, hair damp, smiles brimming and big. “Cute, huh?”

“Very cute,” JJ agrees. He places it amongst the pile of scattered pictures strewn across the table and picks another out. It’s of Kiara, pulling a stupid face as she lounges outside the Chateau. Sarah throwing up peace signs. A candid of Pope and John B playing cards one afternoon. You, dangling upside down from the slats of the jetty, lilac hair barely scraping the surface of the water.

“I like this one.”

JJ leans into you to see the picture in your hands. He smiles at the sight. One of the Pogues must have taken it. You both look about eighteen. You’re sat on one of the deckchairs that resided outside of the Chateau, talking vivaciously, hands gesturing wildly and smiling wide. JJ’s just staring at you, a lovesick smile on his young face, chin resting on his fist. For a while, the two of you sit in the drip-drip-drip of the kitchen sink, staring at the picture as if in a trance.

“You used to adore me,” you whisper.

JJ’s brows knit together. He looks down at you. “I still do.”

Your laugh is sad. Your eyes remained trained on the moment frozen in time. “Not like you used to. Not like before.”

“Before what?” JJ mumbles, heart suddenly heavy.

You look up and meet his gaze. Whatever emotion is on your face makes JJ want to cry. “You know what.”

He shakes his head, his lips quivering. “That’s not true.”

“Everything changed after that.”

“It’s not true,” he says again. His hand slips up, cupping your cheek, and his body sings when you lean into his hold. “That weren’t your fault. It never was and never will be.”

“But would you still have married me,” you begin to ask, voice turning thick as the tears start to build, “if you knew? If I knew before.”

“Yes,” JJ swiftly answers.

“JJ–”

“--You’re it for me,” he says. His forehead gently falls forward, resting against yours, needing to be closer. “Girl of my dreams.”

“Even if…” You take in a shaky breath, trying desperately not to cry. “Even if I can’t give you a family.”

“You are my family. I got everything I need right here.”

Something between a sob and laugh shakes your body. You sniff and nod fervently against him. JJ sweeps his calloused finger across your cheek. He feels the warmth that radiates from your skin. Inhales the soothing smell that is you. Counts the smattering of blemishes and freckles and scars that decorate your skin like cracks in an antique painting. They don’t take from your beauty - they just speak to the value.

“I’m sorry,” he hears himself say.

It’s your turn to frown now. Opening your eyes, they shimmer with unshed tears. “What’d you mean?”

“I’m so sorry I let you marry me,” he says in brutal honesty. “This ain’t the life you deserve.”

“JJ–”

“You deserve so much more than this. More than all this scrimping and saving. You deserve your house. Your pastel blue house, with those white shutters and the porch - that damn wrap around porch - and your cats and dogs.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Your own hands come up, cradling his face just as he has your own, and you smile dotingly up at him. For the first time in months, JJ feels as though he recognises you. JJ feels as though he recognises himself.

“I don’t need all that, JJ,” you tell him. “That’s just stuff. Things. You said it best: I have everything I’ve ever needed right here.”

“You don’t gotta say that,” JJ gently argues. “This trailer isn’t a house, baby.”

“No, it ain’t,” you agree. “It’s a home. It’s our home.”

“Baby,” JJ sighs. His eyes slip shut, unable to look at you, feeling nothing less than a failure.

“You remember our wedding day?” you ask him. JJ can’t help but snort.

“Course I do.”

“Remember our vows?”

His lips can’t help but upturn as he follows your train of thought. He was always good at following your mind.

“For richer–”

“--for poor,” JJ finishes.

The caress of your finger along his jawline has JJ close to tears.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you tell him softly. “We're gonna get through all this. It’s just God’s test, that's all, and we’re gonna pass it, and it’ll be okay again. I promise.”

JJ manages to open his eyes and face you. You’re smiling up at him, gazing as if he was the entire solar system laid before you, and the anxiety slips away as suddenly as winter changes to spring.

“My good looking boy,” you whisper.

JJ’s never been good with his words. But sometimes words aren’t needed.

His lips find yours like a bird migrating home. You immediately hold him close to you, tilting his face with yours to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours. The taste of red wine is strangely erotic and it spurs JJ on. He sighs against you, pushing deeper as if to consume you. Your fingers slip into his hair; nails teasing at his scalp, combing through the sea salt treated strands. JJ’s hands sink away from your face, tracing along your arms, down to your waist. You sink into the cushions of the sofa on your back as JJ climbs atop. His lips map across your cheeks, along your jaw, find home on your neck and collarbones.

“I missed you so much,” he confesses in a breath against your sensitive skin.

The removal of clothes is like a ritual: each piece commemorated with kisses and love bites and praises. Your hands explore one another’s naked bodies as if it were your first time. Like a blind man regaining sight, JJ is in awe of your effortless beauty. The way your back arches at the trace of his finger along your sternum, down to your weeping cunt. You clench helplessly around his digits as he fingers you, slow and sensual, savouring every moan and whine.

“Missed you so fucking much, baby,” JJ sighs against your thigh. Presses kisses against the stretch mark decorated skin, like watering tree roots. “So fucking pretty.”

“JayJ,” you croon, eyes clenched shut, a balled up fist rubbing helplessly at your forehead.

His tongue laps at your clit, suckles at the wet, driven by the feel of your fingers knotting in his hair. You climax with a gasp, soaking his fingers and lips, overstimulated until you’re gently pushing him away and pulling him up to you. He’s painfully hard as he kisses you. When your hand softly takes hold of him, he sighs against your mouth.

“I missed you,” you tell him between kisses. Your hand rubs at him in long, meaningful strokes, thumb occasionally teasing over the tip. JJ groans against your chest, eyes pressed shut, trying to revel in the feeling of having you so close, having you jacking him off, whilst trying desperately not to come. But you know him better than anybody else. You know when to guide him to your entrance, coating him in your slick. JJ kisses at your nipple as he sinks into you. He doesn’t feel miles away this time as he fucks you into the sofa. Doesn’t feel like he’s stranded across the room as he makes love to you for the first time in months, maybe even years.

Your begs and pleas and praises are like words from the lord being spoken into JJ’s ears in your breathy whimpers. Harder, deeper, feels so fuckin’ good, faster. JJ’s no better, slurring anything that slips into his mind as he sinks in and out of you. So fuckin’ wet, prettiest fuckin’ pussy in the world, tell me how bad you need it. His hand holds an almost mean grip on your hip whilst his other finds your left. JJ intertwines your fingers as the two of you chase your highs, the digits slick with sweat, slipping in the hold but never letting go.

"I'm s'close," you whine, hooking your legs over his hips, driving him deeper.

"Fuck, feels so fuckin' good," JJ grunts, ploughing into you. "So fuckin' good for me."

"Please, JJ," you gasp. You're so close. JJ fucks you hard and fast. "Please, please, please..."

You come first, gasping and panting against JJ’s ear, and he follows, moaning desperately against your clammy skin. His eyes slip shut as he rests atop of you.

JJ blinks awake, somewhat disorientated. For the first time in forever, his aching back isn’t the first thing he registers. Instead, it’s the steady rise and fall of the warm body underneath him. He slowly lifts his head to find you, sleeping soundly, still naked. He’s soft inside of you and gently slips out with a small shudder. You stir only slightly but soon drift back off to sleep. JJ gets up carefully so as to not disturb your slumber. The bathroom doesn’t feel as grimy when he goes inside to pee, and his face looks younger, lighter, refreshed, when he checks the mirror as he washes his hands. After tugging on a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt, he returns to the living room. You’ve curled up on your side, snoring quietly, and JJ smiles. How could he forget how beautiful you are? He lays a blanket over your body and plants a kiss to your hair. Then, he begins to tidy away some of the pictures. As you requested, he leaves out some that he thinks you might like to be framed, one of which is from your wedding day: the two of you laughing as you smush cake against one another’s mouths. His eyes fall on the tapes and he picks them up, flicking through them. He takes pause at one. Luke and Marie’s Wedding Tape. He stares at it like the box of Jumangi, both terrified and enticed.

JJ powers up the TV, ensuring it’s on silent, and turns on the old tape player. By some miracle, it still works. He slips the tape in and swallows the lump in his throat, and sits on the sofa beside where your head rests. You’re still dead to the world, snuggled up cosy in your blanket cocoon, and JJ’s weirdly grateful for your company as the tape kicks to life. It’s grainy at first, the picture wobbly, but soon enough the image comes to life. His dad who JJ hasn’t seen in years stands young and stupid at the altar. His mother who JJ wouldn’t know if she passed him in the street stands young and forgiving opposite. They’re speaking soundless words, smiling. JJ isn’t aware that he’s started crying until a teardrop lands on his hand. He wipes his cheek absently, eyes fixated on the screen. He watches as they dance: giggling, graceful, giddy. Just as you were the day JJ laid his eyes on you.

Maybe John B was right. Maybe JJ did want to break the pattern. It wasn't either of your faults that you both reacted to adversity the way you did. Years of built-up anger and rage and pain with nowhere to go but within was like a boiling over crockpot of disaster. Two borderline-abandoned, abused teenagers married at eighteen? Of course you didn't have the blueprint for how to be a functional couple. Neither of you knew the definition of compromise, or backing down, or making peace. All you knew was pain and betrayal and self-defence. But that could change. It would take time and patience, but it could. JJ wanted it to. He was sick of working against you. You were a team before and you would be a team again. JJ never wanted to go to war against you, not when you were the best soldier on his team. JJ had always feared love because he feared what it would make him. Would he be like his father or his mother: resent or retreat?

As JJ's eyes sweep down to your sleeping self, he decides what he'll be. He'll be neither. He'll be himself. He'll be resilient.

One of JJ's hands raises and his fingers lovingly stroke at your hair. You don’t wake, just shift a little, and a barely there smile slinks onto your face.

“Don’t give up on me, baby,” JJ mumbles, petting the strands of your ever changing hair. His good looking girl. “These times are hard and they’re makin’ us go crazy, but don’t give up on me. Cause I meant every word.”

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…

"Til' death do us part."

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babeydollx · 1 month

Note

If you are the author of the JJ Maybank “Safe with You” I have to say I’ve been reading fanfics for like 10+ years and that was the best EVER!!!!!! I was so heartbroken when I couldn’t find the link to it 😭😭😭 PLEASE bring it back to life! 🫶🏻🙏🏻

Safe With You | JJ Maybank

୨୧ Warnings: Cursing, smut, angst, soft!sex, unprotected sex, soft!JJ, abuse, violence, has a fluffy ending, 18+ MDNI.

୨୧ Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Kook Reader

୨୧ Summary: In which JJ helps his girlfriend get away from his father when she goes over to his home to see him.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.5k

୨୧ Author's Note: ahhh, tysm for the sweet comments! I'm so sorry about the link thing, my links have been broken recently because of a recent username change but I am working on fixing them all. In the meantime, here's the fic, I decided to repost it <3

I arrived at JJ's house to see him. JJ and I rarely got time to see eachother since we were on different sides of the island. My parents always had me busy with some shit all the time. It was exhausting and annoying.

I never had time for JJ anymore and I hated it. So, I decided that I would surprise him at his house to see him. I missed him so much and I knew that he missed me too. I couldn't wait to see JJ again and be in his arms.

I walked up to the house and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute or two but there was no answer. I could hear movement inside of the house so I knew that someone had to be home. You decided to try and open the door.

When I turned the door knob the door easily opened. I slowly walked inside and looked around. The house was messy and I could smell beer and weed. As I looked around, I jumped when I herd glass shatter.

What the hell was going on? Was JJ okay? Was someone trying to hurt him? Millions of questions and thoughts flooded my head as I looked for JJ. The sounds were coming from the backyard. I dashed out to the backyard to see JJ on the ground with an older man on top of him and punching him.

"Stop! Stop hurting him! Please!" I screamed as I ran over to the two men in the backyard. I couldn't pull the older man of of JJ so I grabbed a empty beer bottle off of the ground and smashed it over his head.

Luke stopped punching JJ and got dizzy before collapsing on the ground. JJ sat up on the ground and looked over at me in shock.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" JJ asked.

"I- I came to see you.." I said.

"Didn't I tell you to not come here?" He asked.

"You did but, it had been so long since I saw you so I thought I could surprise you. I didn't expect for any of this to happen. Who is he? Why was he hurting you?" You asked.

"He's, uhm... he's my dad." JJ mumbled.

"He's your father?!" I asked in shock. JJ nodded. "Why would he hurt you?!" I yelled.

"I don't know. Cause he is constantly drunk and high I guess." He shrugged. "I'm use to it by now, he's been doing it for years." JJ said. I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. This was absolutely heartbreaking. How could a parent do this to their child?

Before I could say anything else to JJ, someone tackled me to the ground harshly. I screamed when it happened.

"GET OFF OF HER!" JJ yelled. Luke was on top of me. I tried to fight Luke off but he began to hit me hard. I screamed and cried more as he continued to hit me. I could hear JJ yelling and trying to pull his father off of me.

Finally, JJ had got Luke off of me and began to beat the shit out of Luke. I scrambled to my feet and watched the scene go down. I could feel tears streaming down my face still and I was in pain. After a few minutes of JJ beating Luke up, he finally got off of him and ran over to me.

He hugged me and I hid my face in his chest. I finally felt safe. I knew that even if Luke woke up again that JJ would keep me safe, he would make sure that Luke wouldn't hurt me again or worse.

"Are you okay, Y/N?!" JJ asked worried as he checked me for any terrible injuries.

"I'm okay." I said with a sniffle and nodded.

"I am so sorry that this happened to you. You shouldn't have had to see any of this." JJ said with a frown as he hugged me again.

"I'm sorry that you have had to go through this for years.." I said with a frown. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening to you?" I asked.

"Because I didn't want you to worry. This isn't your burden to bare, Y/N.." He said.

"JJ.. we're a team. You can tell me anything and everything, okay? Whatever you are dealing with, I want to be there for you to help you." I said. JJ nodded slowly. "Anyways, did you want to stay the night at my place tonight? My parents are out of town so we have the house to ourselves." I said with a smile.

"That would be nice. Thanks, Y/N." He said with a smile.

"Anytime." I said as JJ and I get ready to go to my house.

We arrived at my house and went inside together. I got both of us a water bottle and then we both went upstairs to my bedroom. I gave him his water bottle and sat down on the bed beside him and we talked for a while. After we both chatted for a bit, we both went silent not knowing what to do next.

"So, what now?" I asked looking over at JJ. He sat there thinking for a moment before looking back over at me. A smirk spread across his face.

"I have a few ideas." He said with a smirk. Before I could ask him any questions he kissed me passionately. I kissed back, melting into the kiss. The was he kissed me was magical. He always knew how to make me feel a certain way without even trying.

As we made out, he gently pushed me down onto my back onto the bed. I ran my hands through his soft, blond hair as the two of us made out. Once we got both of our clothes off and out of the way, JJ was positioning himself between my legs.

I held onto his shoulders tightly and sucked in a breath as JJ slowly pushed inside of me. I gasped and moaned out softly. He groaned quietly as he bottomed out. He then began to thrust into me.

I gently threw my head back and groaned out. I held onto him tightly as he fucked into me, slowly picking up the pace. He continued to slowly pick up the pace until he was fucking me at an ungodly pace.

I moaned out even louder than I did before. I arched my back off of the bed and moaned out, almost screaming at this point. I could feel that familiar knot bubbling in the bottom of my stomach and I knew that I was going to cum any second now. I then clenched around JJ, signaling to him that I was going to cum.

"Fuck, you gonna cum, princess?" He asked as he groaned out.

"Yes, fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!" I yelled.

"Come on, cum for me." JJ said. With that my eyes rolled back and my legs began to shake as I came hard on JJ's hard cock. He thrusted into me a few more times before coming himself, shooting his load deep inside of me.

JJ pulled out of me and I laid their trying to catch my breath. He laid down beside me and he was also trying to catch his breath. After we both took some time to come down from that, JJ smiled and gently pulled me over and snuggled me.

I giggled when he did so. I always loved to be in JJ's arms. He always made me feel so safe. We both laid there together and talked for awhile while we were tangled in each other's arms. After we both talked and snuggled, we both fell asleep together.

I woke up the next morning to see that JJ was no longer in bed with me. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before looking around my bedroom. No sign of JJ. As I was about to go look around the house for JJ, I saw a note on my bedside table.

I took the note off of the table and unfolded it before reading it.

Thanks for letting me stay the night at your house, Y/N. Again, I am so sorry that you had to witness all of that yesterday and go through that. I promise I will come back later, I just have a few things to sort out with my dad. I love you, Y/N.

- JJ

I smiled at the note that JJ left me. I thought it was so sweet that he had decided to write me a note. I missed JJ so much already but, I couldn't wait to see JJ again.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovies!

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obxsummer · 1 year

Text

HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic

request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

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more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series

John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it.

At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t.

So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.

Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body On the way to get a drink at the bar I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator Then we're kissing in the back of the car

The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party.

“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it.

“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”

The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.

That voice in my head says to slow down But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now It may not be next week, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left.

The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often.

Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you.

The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.

JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down.

“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”

He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.

Could be forever or we might break That's just the kind of risk that we take My head is yelling that I could get hurt But I'm gonna jump right in Baby, with my heart first

“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock.

You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit.

“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother.

“Get out of your head.”

A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him.

JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side.

Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic When you don't know who's holding the cards Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)

You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?

“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules.

John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”

JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.

“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”

“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?

John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”

You looked up in a panic. “John B-”

“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you.

JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break.

The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him.

“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said.

As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.”

“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”

It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word.

Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now It may not be next year, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you.

He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”

“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened.

So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.

JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you.

The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.

John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about.

You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be.

Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart.

John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest.

As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all.

I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt I gotta have ya, diving in heart first

#obx3celebration #jj maybank #outer banks x reader #obx3 #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj outer banks #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank imagine #obx x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank series #stc series #routledge!reader #outer banks angst #jj maybank angst #outer banks netflix

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jjmaybanksgun · 10 months

Text

Affection - JJ Maybank (Part 2)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Author’s note: here’s part 2 of this story after like forever. find part one here. enjoy and send requests if you want! (please note, they may take a while to write, but they’ll be in the works and published in due time!)

Warnings: cursing, fighting, jj being drunk, angstttt, mentions of l*ke maybank and abuse

———————————————————————

It had been three months since you’d left JJ at the chateau. Every time you see him in public, you make eye contact and immediately look away so he doesn’t get any ideas.

JJ on the other hand could barely stop thinking about you. He always wanted to text you, call you, try to get you back, but he never was able to bring himself to do it. He didn’t want you thinking he was weak or vulnerable so you could use it to your advantage. He was always taught to keep himself at a distance so no one could take advantage of him. He always had to be in control. What was he if not strong? He remembered his dad’s beatings and how he would make his punches worse when he started crying, telling him to “man the hell up.”

His thoughts ate away at him and he needed a way to get his mind off of it. The very solution came when he heard there was a party over at the beach. He forced himself up and went to where the party was.

Little did he know, you were there too. You didn’t see him as you talked to some other people at the party. He saw you and froze in place for a few seconds. He cleared his throat and decided to try and ignore you.

He eventually decided alcohol was the best distraction from you. That proves ineffective for him. He ends up just noticing you more. What catches his attention however, is when you start smiling and talking with a guy.

If looks could kill, the guy would be dead immediately. He glared at you both as you laughed and the guy started getting touchy with you. Before JJ could process it, before he could stop himself from doing something stupid, he was on top of the guy and landing many blows to his face.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” He slurs, his punches unrelenting. You immediately grabbed JJ by his shoulders and with effort, pulled him away from the guy who was now bleeding.

“JJ, what the fuck?!” You scolded as you took him away from the party and to somewhere quieter. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

JJ grunted and avoided your angry gaze as he tried to calm down. He eventually did look at you and his gaze immediately softened even when yours didn’t. He felt his eyes fill with tears. He tried to blink them back. Even when drunk, he didn’t want to be vulnerable. He inevitably failed and felt his knees buckle as he sobbed.

“I’m sorry… I’m so s-sorry… I’m a fucking idiot…” He cries, his arms coming up to hug your waist and burying his face into your shirt.

You were taken aback by his sudden show of emotions. You kneeled down to his level and took his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“JJ, are you okay? What is going on?” You ask, concerned for him. You’d never seen him like this. Not even close. Now he was apologizing.

He averts his eyes away from yours. He looks anywhere except where you are. He can’t look at you.

“I’m so fucking stupid…” He whimpers. “I should’ve… I should’ve told you how much you meant to me… I should’ve hugged you and kissed you and given you all the love you deserve… But I was so fucking stupid… I am stupid…”

You looked at him with saddened eyes. His cries were so raw, so genuine, it was hard not to hug him. But you figured you shouldn’t until you found out everything.

“You’re not stupid, JJ. Just tell me everything, okay?” You prompted. You wanted him to feel safe enough to talk to you.

He took a few ragged breaths before speaking. “I just… It was my dad… He never showed me anything like you did… He never hugged me or showed me any form of affection…” He explains. “When you did, I didn’t know how to show it back without being cold and distant like he does… I know that’s no excuse…”

Your heart hurt when you realized it was his dad’s fault. You felt so much empathy for his situation that it was hard to be mad at him anymore. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and held him tight.

He tensed up at your touch for a moment before letting himself melt into it and reluctantly hugging you back.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t ever think that.” You reassured him.

You two sat there for a while before eventually standing up and walking to the chateau to put JJ to bed. You walked inside and brought him to his room, laying him down on his bed. He groaned and curled up into the messed up sheets.

You smiled softly as you watched him look somewhat at peace while he fell asleep. He looked up at you with those pretty blue eyes of his.

“Can you stay, please?” He asked, sounding like an innocent little boy.

You couldn’t resist that innocent stare and slowly climbed in next to him. You wrapped your arms around him and he did the same to you, kissing your forehead.

Fast forward a month, and you two officially started dating again. He still struggled to fully show you physical affection but he made more of an effort to try. And as long as you both understood each other, you were both happy.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj obx #jj maybank angst #angst #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks jj

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rafesveryrealgf · 1 year

Text

HC - JJ Maybank As Your Boyfriend

- JJ never had the feeling of comfort so when he finally got that from someone — from you, he couldn’t stay away from you

- He has issues no doubt. Who wouldn’t with an absent mother and abusive father? But he tries his hardest to never let it have an affect on his relationship.

- He’s clingy as hell.

- Can’t go a day without seeing you — it’s physically impossible for him.

- Even when you both are in an argument he sneaks through your window.

- If you’re stubborn about opening the window he pleads for you to open it so he can fix everything between the two of you.

- he absolutely apologizes first.

- You’re the one he calls after a fight with his dad.

- You’re the only person he feels comfortable being vulnerable with.

- He teaches you how to surf, of course.

- Overuses the word baby, always — but especially when he’s trying to get you to do something like jumping off cliffs.

- “Baby, c’mon you know I’d never put you in a position to get hurt.”

- “It’ll be fun, baby,”

- You witness many of the fights between him and his dad.

- He stays with you most nights to avoid fighting with his dad.

- He absolutely hates when you guys argue and even more when he makes you cry from said argument’s.

- Asks you every weekend to have a ‘sleepover’ at your place as if he doesn’t already stay at your house on the weekdays too.

- Your parents love him

- But don’t allow you guys to have sleepovers.

- So obviously he sneaks in through your window so your parents won’t know.

- Can’t help but be overprotective over you

- Only guys he trusts around you are Pope and John B

#obx #outerbanks #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #have my babies jj maybank #please #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader imagine

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thewulf · 9 months

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Here For You || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - could you write a jj maybank and sister where she has a panic attack and he helps?

A/N - Ahhh I just cannot get enough of a good old hurt/comfort. This was a little different of a write since its an X sister! insert but I had a really good time writing it. A little shorter than usual but I really like it! Thanks for the request @obxlover14

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

TW: Talks of Breakdowns, anxiety, overwhelming feelings etc.

It always happened when you least expected. The panic came over in a massive wave that engulfed your entirety seemingly out of nowhere. You’d been stressing out a little lately. Getting older meant decisions had to be made. Were you going to try and go to college? Or were you simply going to stay on the island and find weird jobs after graduating high school being the disappointment your dad expected from you? These thoughts consumed you whole making it hard to think of anything else. You started ruminating on it and before you knew it hot tears were streaming down your face.

It usually didn’t get this bad. You were normally able to stop you brain from going this far down the spiral it so often wanted to. You were a complete and utter mess who hid it well from the others. Ever since your mother left nearly ten years ago your father become more and more abusive as the years ticked on. Attributing that to your anxiety all you wanted to do was get the hell out. You knew JJ wanted to as well and he could. He turned eighteen a few months ago. But he waited around for you. Far too terrified at the thought of leaving you alone with your shared father. If you could even call him that anymore.

You found a wall in the hallway leading up to the kitchen and leaned back on it. Sliding down you brought your knees in close to your chest trying to huddle in on yourself. Bringing your hands up your tried to rub the anxiety away from your face to no avail. You tried your normal methods of calming down but was coming up devastatingly short. Tears kept slipping out of your eyes as your tried to slow your every increasing heart rate. Thank God your father was at work, you couldn’t imagine the ass beating that would come from a breakdown. Only further deteriorating your already rapidly declining mental state.

Not having a clue how long you were sitting there you tried your best counting back from a hundred. Trying to ground yourself in the moment. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. You kept losing track and having to restart after your mind started playing those normal tricks on you.

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder breaking you from the trance you were seemingly locked in on. Head snapping around you met the familiar blue eyes of your older brother. Normally happy go lucky but a growing concern clouded his vision as he looked you over.

He grabbed at the hand that was grabbing at your own face, prying it away from its grasp, “Hey kid, there you are.” His smile was anything but real but he was trying his best to get you comfortable. It wasn’t all the often he came home to you cowering in on yourself on the floor unresponsive to his calls.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at him with wide eyes as you came back to the present. How long were you sitting there? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? You hadn’t a damn clue.

He ignored you continuing, “Are you okay? I called out for you a few times.” He looked you over only giving a soft sigh once he concluded you were physically fine. Mentally he hadn’t any idea what you were going through.

You nodded before looking away. Suddenly embarrassed by your episode, “I’m okay JJ.” You voice rasped out sounding like it hadn’t been used in weeks. Were you yelling? Why did it sound so hoarse?

“That’s not very believable kid.” He sat down next to you letting you know he wasn’t planning on going anywhere until you stated speaking. As gently as JJ could manage he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Well, you better believe it.” You offered a rather pathetic smile. Again, not terrible believable and JJ clocked it.

“Come on, spill.” He spoke waiting on your response.

You looked him over. He didn’t look very thrilled with you. It was more out of concern than anything else, but it still made you terribly embarrassed. It seemed so pathetic, especially when you tried to explain it out loud.

“I’m just overwhelmed J.” You sighed in defeat not really wanting to go into much more detail.

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as if trying to read your cryptic mind. Sure he was your sibling but he wasn’t a miracle worker. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what kept your mind racing, “What about?”

“The future.” You answered honestly not trying to hide it from it. He’d get the answer he wanted from you anyway.

He gave you the first genuine smile of the afternoon, “You’re only a Junior. You’ve got some time to figure it out.”

You shook your head, “Applications are due soon. I don’t even know if I want to go to college. What will I do there? I can’t waste any time there. Don’t have the money too…” You began to babble.

He placed a grounding hand on your shoulder, “Relax, Y/N.”

“I can’t JJ!” You snapped. Eyes wide. You rarely yelled at your older brother. You knew better.

He ignored your outburst once again and placed a second hand on your other shoulder, “I need you to breathe after me. Alright?”

You nodded watching him closely. Mimicking his actions slowly. Breathing in for a second longer than you wanted and out. Copying him for a few minutes did actually help as your breathing slowed which also dropped your heartrate.

A few more tears slipped down your face as you calmed down. Thank goodness for your older brother being able to break you from the entrapment of your mind. After one last shaky breath your eyes met his once again. He looked nervous. It was an expression your rarely, if ever, saw on your older brother and you were sure it was because of you. What a time to have a mental fucking breakdown.

“I’m sorry J.” You breathed out in more of a whisper once again embarrassed by your very own whisper.

He shook his head, “Don’t say sorry. That’s what I’m here for kid.” Knowing that you were somewhat okay he reached over and wrapped you into his arm giving you one big squeeze. JJ adored you, his younger sister by a few years. See, you were the best of the Maybank’s. As kind as they came and smarter than ever. JJ knew he had to get you off this island one way or another. After seeing you so panic stricken over everything JJ knew it wasn’t a matter of it but when. You were too good for this island. Bound for so much more even if you didn’t know it yet. JJ did.

You nodded into his shoulder not daring to say another word knowing it’d come out a shaky mess. It was nice letting yourself feel the comfort from somebody you loved and adored. JJ might not have known it but you always looked up to him. He was never afraid to speak his mind, make new friends, go on crazy adventures. He was the opposite of you and you adored that about him. He was so unashamed to be himself. It did get him into trouble more than you liked to admit.

He spoke up breaking you out of your quiet stupor once more, “You don’t have to be scared. That’s what I’m here. That’s what the pogues are here for. We’re here to talk, okay?”

You nodded knowing you would never actually take him seriously. It wasn’t your place to bother them with sixteen-year-old problems. They had their own shit to deal with. Own people to please.

“Hey, I’m serious.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t take that as an answer though.

“Look at me kid.” He said more seriously than he had in this entire interaction with him.

You did as he said and waited.

“You’ve got to speak to me. Talk to me. Or somebody. You can’t let these emotions bottle up anymore. It’s okay if you’ve got to talk about it. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze letting you know he was there for you, always.

When you didn’t speak he finished, “I’m here for you kid.”

“I love you J.”

His smile reached his eyes, “I love you too kiddo. Forever and always. But you know that.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

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cakesunflower · 6 months

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 2

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The Saturday afternoon lunch rush keeps Isla on her toes, weaving around tables and balancing trays of plates and glasses as she serves those seated in her section. The weather is beautiful out, so lots of customers snagged tables in the outdoor section, the air a delightful scent of salt and wood. Music plays through the speakers of the restaurant, but it’s drowned out by the constant chatter and clinking of utensils.

“Want a refill on that Dr. Pepper, Charlie?” Isla asks one of their regulars, an older man who always dons the same Budweiser trucker cap.

He gives her a kind smile, looking up from his sudoku book. “I’d appreciate that, Isla.”

She grins at him as she picks up the last of the dirty plates from a nearby table, piling them on the tray before carrying it over towards the kitchen window, dropping them off so they can be taken care of. Isla makes quick work of getting Charlie a fresh glass of his soda before going around the counter where Kie is putting in an order in one of the monitors. Before Isla can get started on the other one, the kitchen bell rings.

“Order for pickup!” comes Earl’s shout, and Isla turns to grab the paper bag to put it on the table behind the counter designated for pickup orders.

When she goes to the other monitor to put in the order for table seventeen, Kie says from her left, “The guys are planning a party tonight at the Boneyard.”

Isla cracks a smile, unsurprised by this. As summer rolls around, she knows they’re in for a lot of parties and boat days. “Any special occasion for this one?”

Isla can sense Kie’s hesitation, and when she glances at her sister—younger than Isla by eleven months—she sees Kie pressing her lips together before meeting Isla’s gaze. “JJ’s dad’s in jail again.”

Isla’s eyes widen, jaw dropping. Luke Maybank getting arrested is never new news, but Isla knows every time he gets out, he takes out his anger on JJ. Her best friend is too prideful to talk about it, but she doesn’t miss the bruises, the cuts. Neither do the others. But JJ isn’t the talkative type, so they show their support in other ways. Always.

“What the hell did he do now?” Isla asks, frustration coloring her voice. If there’s one person in this world she hates, it’s JJ’s dad, simply because of the abuse he inflicts on his son. It’s why JJ always stays at John B’s, whether his dad is in jail or not.

“Drunk and disorderly and resisting arrest,” Kie answers with a roll of her eyes. But Isla doesn’t miss her sister’s own anger, sees it in the way Kie clenches her jaw. And why wouldn’t she? JJ is one of her best friends, and if there’s one thing Isla loves about her sister, it’s Kie’s fierce loyalty to the people she loves, her protectiveness over them. Especially where JJ is concerned. Their whole group keeps an extra eye on the blonde, whether he likes it or not. “I think he might be in for six months this time.”

Isla’s eyebrows shoot up, pausing in her work to look at her sister. “Seriously?” She whistles. “That’s his longest stint in a while, isn’t it? Is JJ gonna crash at the chateau?”

Kie nods. “He’s playing it off like he doesn’t care, but I know he’s sick of his dad’s shit.”

Nodding, Isla huffs out a breath. “Yeah, we all are.”

“Yeah.” Kie also lets out a long, heavy sigh. “I just want—oh, what the hell is he doing here?”

Isla glances at Kie, but her sister is looking past her, towards the front door of the restaurant over Isla’s shoulder. Kie’s features are hard as stone, dark eyes blazing with a kind of contempt and anger she saves for a select few people. Her jaw works, and Isla turns her head towards the door to see who she’s looking at—only for her to feel her stomach drop at the sight of Rafe strolling towards them.

He’s in a dark green, short sleeve collared shirt and navy blue cargo shorts that his hands are shoved into the pockets of. Isla presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth because his gaze seems to find hers instantly even in the crowded restaurant, muscles tightening until she straightens where she’s standing. Something stirs in the air as he draws near, his walk infuriatingly confident, and then he has the gall to smirk as he reaches the counter, standing on the opposite side in the space between where Isla and Kie stand.

“Kie,” Rafe greets, leaning forward with his arms resting on the counter, looking up at them with bright blue eyes. Kiara doesn’t say anything in response, her expression practically a sneer, but Rafe pays her no mind as his gaze shifts to the older Carrera. “Isla.”

Maybe she’s crazy, but she swears he says her name differently. As if it’s a secret shared between them. It sends a tickle down her spine she doesn’t dare to acknowledge. The crowd of the restaurant can’t be held accountable for the heat that spreads across Isla’s skin. Damn it.

“What do you want?” Kie demands, her tone unfriendly as always, where Rafe is concerned.

And, as always, he isn’t deterred by her tone. He shoots her an easy smirk and says, “Picking up my order.”

Exhaling sharply through her nose, Isla turns towards the trolley behind her, reaching for the bag Earl had handed over. Reading the name on the receipt, Isla confirms it’s Rafe’s, already paid for, and turns back to the counter, placing it in front of him. “Thanks,” he says with a too friendly grin as he straightens, reaching for the bag. His eyes then meet Isla’s and he arches an eyebrow. “You get your car fixed?”

Isla’s eyes widen slightly at his question, especially when she feels Kie’s gaze suddenly on her, hot and questioning. But she doesn’t dare meet her sister’s stare, and instead glares at Rafe. She sees that glint of mischief in his eyes, deliberate in his question in front of Kie, and Isla has to resist the urge to grab his bag of food and hit him with it.

Isla’s fingers curl into her palms as her hands rest on the counter, bracing herself, though she’s trying not to lose it because by Rafe asking that one question, she knows she’s in for a lot more from Kie.

“Uh, yeah, it’s in the shop,” Isla answers stiltedly, throat tightening. “Should be good as new.”

Rafe’s smirk is antagonizing but attractive at the same time, and she wonders if she would’ve thought that before last night. Hell, it’s concerning that she’s thinking about it again now. This is the same guy her friends hate, who hates her and her friends, who has gotten into more than a few fist fights with her boys. Isla is pretty sure just thinking that Rafe Cameron is handsome is a betrayal to the Pogues.

“Good,” Rafe says with a dip of his chin, grabbing the top of the brown paper bag as he smoothly pushes away from the counter. He winks at her, then, and says, “One night of playing hero was enough for me,” before turning while grabbing his sunglasses that hang from the neckline of his shirt, putting them on as he heads out of the restaurant.

Isla clenches her jaw as she watches him go, because she knows he knows he just opened a can of worms in front of Kie and left Isla to deal with it by herself. Because, no doubt, as soon as he’s walking away, Kie is stepping up next to her with a hand on her hip and a demanding, “What the hell was that about?”

While Isla is older, Kie is the taller one, having a good four inches on Isla with her five-foot-nine height. So Kie stares down at her, eyebrow raises and a determined look on her face that tells Isla she won’t be dropping it until she gets the answers she wants. “Um—”

“How’d he know about your car?” she pushes, brown eyes searching Isla’s.

Isla had told her about her car breaking down last night, having no choice but to confess because one, Kie noticed her car wasn’t in the driveway and two, Isla needed a ride to work this morning. But Isla had told her and their parents the same thing—that the car broke down, and she stayed in it until an Uber showed up to pick her up. She completely omitted the part about those two creepy guys, and her running away and right into Rafe’s arms—literally.

It seems, though, her evasion of the truth was for nothing, all thanks to Rafe. What a dick.

Kie’s questioning gaze is incessant and makes Isla’s body tighten with anxiety, until she finally drops her shoulders and throws her head back in defeat. “Okay, fuck, fine, but you can’t tell Mom and Dad,” Isla says hastily, turning to her sister. The busy restaurant seems to be on the back burner for now.

Kie looks even more confused. “Can’t tell Mom and Dad what?”

Nervously tightening her ponytail, Isla quickly tells Kie about last night’s events. About the car breaking down, those guys pulling up, pepper spraying one of them and making a run for it until she ran into Rafe and he, surprisingly, helped her out by giving her a lift home instead of having Isla wait for a ride. Kie’s expressions go from confused, to horrified, to bewildered and freaked out all at the right times, her jaw dropping lower and lower by the time Isla finishes her story.

When Kie doesn’t say anything right away, Isla blows out a breath. “Just—don’t tell Mom and Dad about those freaks, okay? And don’t tell the others about Rafe. They’d all try to skin me alive.” With a one shouldered shrug, Isla adds, “Except maybe Sarah.”

Kie is shaking her head, lips parted. “I’m sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Rafe Cameron actually helped you.”

A dry chuckle escapes Isla. “Yeah, you and me both. But, you know—” She spots the hostess, Lara, seating someone in her section. “It was a one time thing. Wrong place, wrong time type thing,” she says with a laugh, though it sounds forced even to her own ears because despite the weirdness of it all, Isla is grateful to Rafe for helping her last night. Despite what she said, she hadn’t really wanted to stick around and wait for an Uber, or her friends or dad to pick her up. She wanted to be out of there as soon as possible, and Rafe had been the most viable option.

Before Isla can respond, Kie scoffs and adds with a roll of her eyes, “Of course, he’s gonna be a smug asshole about it, too.”

Isla snorts. “Are we surprised?” she says as she walks around the counter. “I’ve got a table.”

The rest of her shift goes by uneventfully, though Isla can admit that she feels like some weight has shifted off her shoulders after telling Kie about last night. The two of them tell each other everything, so NOT telling her, though for good reason, felt like a huge weight had landed on her shoulders. Now that she knows, some of it is off, though Isla knows the rest is because of the truth hidden from her friends. And while Kie’s reaction was far more understated than Isla had feared, she knows the same can’t be said for her friends.

Pogues don’t keep secrets from each other, but this might have to be an exception.

******

The Boneyard is a mixed crowd, as it almost always is whenever there’s a party thrown here. Music pumps through the night, accompanying the water crashing along the shore and continuous chatter from everyone gathered. The weather is perfect, and the knitted cropped top Isla wears over her bikini top keeps her comfortable as she sips her second beer of the night. JJ has been nice enough to let her sip from his flask, the vodka a sharp lingering taste in the back of her throat as she tosses the ping pong ball, high-fiving Cleo when it lands in a cup.

“You’re gettin’ smoked,” Cleo laughs at Pope and Kie on the other end of the table. “I thought you were gonna make it challenging for us!”

“Alright, alright, stop the celebration. You haven’t won yet,” Pope calls back before turning to his partner. “Come on, Kie, you got this.”

Kie holds up her free hand to silence Pope, her dark eyes fixated on the table between them. “Don’t pressure me.”

Pope holds up his hands in defense, but his dark, keen eyes watch the scene before him. Isla just knows his razor sharp brain is calculating the physics of it all as Kie prepares to do her throw. Unfortunately for her, the ball bounces off the rim of one of the cups, glaring at Isla and Cleo without any real heat when they cheer at her expense. Pope simply laces his fingers behind his head as he shakes it, pursing his lips in disappointment as Kie flips him off.

As Cleo does her turn, Isla sways her hips side to side to the bear of the music, arms crossed as she sips her beer. Her gaze wanders around the party, taking in the plenty of familiar faces that surround her, as well as ones she doesn’t know but figures are the kids from families who are staying in Outer Banks for the summer. Other than them, Pogues and Kooks alike are spread out around the Boneyard; some mingling, others keeping to their friend groups. It’s always been like that, really.

There are a few bonfires lit up, the smell of smoke mixing with the salty air in a combination that tickles Isla’s nose with familiarity. She spots JJ sitting on one of the logs by one of the fires, animated in whatever story he’s telling to the group of people entranced by him. But she also notes how he keeps glancing in this general direction, and Isla knows exactly who he’s looking at. She smiles into her next sip of beer, subtly shaking her head to herself and wishing that JJ and her sister would just get out of this limbo they’re stuck in and finally get together.

The beer pong game ends with Isla and Cleo winning, the two high fiving as they shift over to let the next group play. Peering into her cup and the remaining drink inside, Isla tells her friends. “I’m almost out. Gonna head to the bathroom and get another.”

They nod their acknowledgements before Isla turns and wanders off. She’s not that drunk, but she smiles at anyone who calls out to her as she heads to the edge of the party where a row of three porta-potties are lined up. Isla hates using them—drunk people are so disgustingly messy—but when you gotta go, you gotta go.

She uses the toilet quickly and carefully, but it’s not until she’s exiting the bathroom that Isla ends up bumping into someone. A gasp rips through her when the remaining contents of her drink spill on her white crocheted top. Isla freezes, staring down at the beer stained top in shock; not a lot of her drink remained, but enough had been in the cup to dirty the middle of her top, cringing at the stickiness of the beer clinging to her skin as well.

“Oh, fuck.” Her gaze snaps up and the shock only intensifies into disbelief at the sight of Rafe standing before her, staring at her with guilt surprisingly swimming in his blue eyes.

A sharp breath escapes Isla, her shoulders tense as she gapes at him. “Seriously?” she demands, pinching the front of the damp top and pulling it away from her wet skin.

His guilt melts into annoyance, eyebrows pulling together as he tells her, “Excuse me, but you’re the one who bumped into me—again.”

Isla knows he’s right, but she can’t bring herself to care at this moment. Why him, of all people, to bump into twice in as many days? “Thank you for the recount,” Isla huffs, flapping her top in a feeble attempt to dry it. “And thank you for completely soaking my top.”

Rafe purses his lips as Isla turns back into the bathroom and rips off some toilet paper, soaking it in the sink before stepping back out and trying to clean the beer off of her skin, at least. The top needs to be washed and hopefully that’ll get the stain out, but Isla can’t stand the sticky sensation of her skin.

She can feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze on her as she slides her hand under her top and wipes at her chest and stomach, her black bikini top peeking through the holes of her knitted top. Heat pools in her cheeks and she tells herself it’s from annoyance rather than anything else, letting out a quiet huff as she balls up the tissue paper because although she’s not sticky anymore, she isn’t entirely keen on walking around with a stained top, even if others will be too drunk to notice. Or care.

When she looks back at Rafe, Isla blinks in bewilderment as she watches him unbuttoning the plaid button down he’s got on, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. “Uh,” she drags the word out, and the heat in her skin only intensifies when her gaze locks in on his fingers deftly undoing the buttons, the gold ring on his index finger glinting against the light of the bathroom behind her. “What are you doing?”

Isla’s lips part when Rafe completely unbuttons the shirt, leaving him in a white tank underneath that proudly shows off muscular biceps as he shrugs off the button down and holds it out to her. “Wear this.”

She blinks. “What?”

Rafe cocks an eyebrow while Isla stares at him, no longer even registering the party behind him and instead looking back and forth between him and the shirt he’s holding out to her. Did she hit her head? What is happening? “You wanna walk around with a stained shit? Be my guest. Figured I’d give you a cleaner and drier option.”

This is so weird, and her extreme confusion pushes her to ask, “What are you even doing here?”

Rafe rarely shows up to the Boneyard parties. Unlike the other Kooks who make an appearance, Isla and her friends always figured Rafe thought he was too good to be seen here. The Kook prince liked to throw ragers at his own place, so why bother coming out all the way here?

If Rafe is surprised or bothered by her question, he doesn’t show it. “Top dragged me against my will. Now are you gonna take the shirt or not?” he asks, giving the clothing a little shake as he holds it out.

Isla doesn’t want to necessarily walk around in her bikini top or her stained sweater, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she runs a debate in her head. Her friends will question her on whose shirt she’s got on, and she can lie and say some random guy instead of giving Rafe’s name, but what are the odds that Sarah recognizes her brother’s shirt? This guy seems to come to her rescue when she doesn’t have many other options; it’s not like she can borrow anything from one of her friends. Pope’s got a shirt, JJ’s in a muscle tee, and John B’s got his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to show off his chest.

God, maybe she should just go home.

Instead, though, Isla finds herself untying the front of her knitted cropped sweater before shrugging it off, keenly aware of Rafe’s gaze on her as she stands in front of him in her bikini top and daisy dukes. Yet, his stare doesn’t feel unwanted or uncomfortable, and Isla can’t look away from him, either. Suddenly, they’re locked in a kind of staring contest, to see who will look away first, as Isla shrugs off her sweater without breaking eye contact.

The air is electric, the smell of smoke adding a kind of sensuality to how close Rafe stands, offering his shirt. The material is surprisingly soft when Isla grasps it, putting her arms through the sleeves, and the air hitches in her throat when she sees that the shirt is practically a dress on her, stopping way past her shorts around her mid-thigh. Isla doesn’t bother buttoning it up, suddenly engulfed in that familiar scent she smelled last night when Rafe had been standing so close to her, and when she’d been on the back of his bike. A scent she would catch faint whiffs of whenever she was at the Camerons’ home, hanging out with Sarah.

Now, it wraps around her too pleasantly as she rolls the sleeves of the shirt up to her elbows before tying her sweater around her waist, making sure Rafe’s button down isn’t tucked into it. She smooths it down with a huffed, “Good?”

There’s a shift in Rafe’s eyes, a gleam that stirs something to life in the pit of Isla’s stomach as she watches his blue eyes trail down the length of her. The movement of his gaze is slow, purposeful, almost as if he’s committing the sight of her in his shirt to memory and despite the summery balm of the night, goosebumps pimple her exposed skin in response to the touch of his stare. She can feel her pulse pick up speed, a dangerous realization as Rafe parts his lips and rubs the corner of his bottom lip with his thumb.

“Yeah,” he drawls with a slow nod, blue eyes once again locking with her brown. The air is charged between them, as if only a few more seconds need to pass before it sparks something into a fire.

Isla tries not to shift on her feet, doesn’t want to show the sudden nerves that tickle her that have never existed when she’s been around Rafe—until now. She gives a gentle shake of her head to get her hair out of her face, keeping her voice as even as she can when she says, “Guess your one good deed of the month became two.”

A huff of a laugh escapes his now smirking mouth, hinting at dimples. Isla can’t look away despite all of the reasons she should. Especially when he coolly replies, “Guess you’re the exception.”

Isla presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth, warmth pooling into her cheeks as his words have an effect on her that takes her by surprise. But she remembers herself in time to force a sardonic smile to match her equally sarcastic response, “Lucky me.”

It pulls a chuckle from Rafe, glancing away as he rubs his jaw before he nods at her cup. “Let me get you another drink.”

His offer once again shocks her. Isla lifts her eyebrows and presses her hand to her chest in exaggerated melodrama. “Another good deed?” Rafe rolls his eyes, but that signature smirk remains. “I can get it myself, thanks.” She doesn’t want to risk her friends and sister seeing her even walking next to Rafe, knowing how they’d react. “And, uh, thanks for the shirt,” she adds almost begrudgingly. Though, she is grateful—even if he’s the reason the drink spilled on her.

And maybe Rafe can sense the conflict and confusion that brews inside of her—that has been since last night—because his smirk widens as he takes a step back, his eyes trailing down the entire length of her. His shirt suddenly feels heavy on her frame, like he’s just branded her, and her reaction should be to take it off and shove it back in his arms.

But Rafe is already walking backwards, hands in the pockets of his pants as he says to her, “You wear it well,” before turning and walking off without waiting for a response

Not that he would get one, because all thoughts eddie out of Isla’s head, gaping at his back as he walks away with those damning parting words. In moments like these, she wishes she had her sister’s smart mouth; Kie is an expert in snappy comebacks and witty comments, meanwhile Isla is left a flustering mess only regretfully coming up with her responses long after the conversation is over.

“Fuck’s sake,” she mutters to herself, forcing her feet to move as she approaches the party.

She stops by at the keg, getting a refill on her drink before walking back to where her friends are. Her steps are slow, though, nervously fiddling with the rolled up cuff of the shirt as she takes a deep breath and hopes that Sarah doesn’t recognize the shirt. Hell, it could belong to anyone, couldn’t it?

Her friends are all gathered around one of the fires, just the group of them, and as Isla nonchalantly sits down on the log next to JJ, he does a double take and takes in the sight of her new piece of clothing. “Whose shirt is that?” He pinches the material of the shoulder between his fingers, and Isla swats it off as she feels the others’ gazes on her. “Looks very Kook-like.”

Isla suppresses a groan—and fights the urge to glance at Sarah. Instead, she decides to give them half of the truth. “Some guy accidentally bumped into me, spilled beer on my sweater. He felt bad so he gave me his shirt to wear.”

Honestly, she’s kind of proud of herself for sounding very blasé about it, like she’s got nothing to hide. As she takes a sip from her beer, Pope snorts, “What kind of dude wears a button down to a beach party?”

There’s a pregnant pause before every single one of them, including Isla with a sigh, answers, “A Kook.”

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coco-cinnamon · 7 hours

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Safe With You | JJ Maybank

୨୧ Warnings: Cursing, smut, angst, soft!sex, unprotected sex, soft!JJ, abuse, violence, has a fluffy ending, 18+ MDNI.

୨୧ Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Kook Reader

୨୧ Summary: In which JJ helps his girlfriend get away from his father when she goes over to his home to see him.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.5k

୨୧ Author's Note: this fic is from my old blog @babeydollx. this and most of my other fics will be reposted over here to my new blog. Also I fr have no idea why this fic is written from my pov and not Y/N's because that isn't usually how I write but I was too lazy to fix it, sorry! Maybe someday lol.

Luke stopped punching JJ and got dizzy before collapsing on the ground. JJ sat up on the ground and looked over at me in shock.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" JJ asked.

"I- I came to see you.." I said.

"Didn't I tell you to not come here?" He asked.

"You did but, it had been so long since I saw you so I thought I could surprise you. I didn't expect for any of this to happen. Who is he? Why was he hurting you?" You asked.

"He's, uhm... he's my dad." JJ mumbled. 9

"He's your father?!" I asked in shock. JJ nodded. "Why would he hurt you?!" I yelled.

Before I could say anything else to JJ, someone tackled me to the ground harshly. I screamed when it happened.

He hugged me and I hid my face in his chest. I finally felt safe. I knew that even if Luke woke up again that JJ would keep me safe, he would make sure that Luke wouldn't hurt me again or worse.

"Are you okay, Y/N?!" JJ asked worried as he checked me for any terrible injuries.

"I'm okay." I said with a sniffle and nodded.

"I am so sorry that this happened to you. You shouldn't have had to see any of this." JJ said with a frown as he hugged me again.

"I'm sorry that you have had to go through this for years.." I said with a frown. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening to you?" I asked.

"Because I didn't want you to worry. This isn't your burden to bare, Y/N.." He said.

"That would be nice. Thanks, Y/N." He said with a smile.

"Anytime." I said as JJ and I get ready to go to my house.

"So, what now?" I asked looking over at JJ. He sat there thinking for a moment before looking back over at me. A smirk spread across his face.

I held onto his shoulders tightly and sucked in a breath as JJ slowly pushed inside of me. I gasped and moaned out softly. He groaned quietly as he bottomed out. He then began to thrust into me.

"Fuck, you gonna cum, princess?" He asked as he groaned out.

"Yes, fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!" I yelled.

I took the note off of the table and unfolded it before reading it.

- JJ

I smiled at the note that JJ left me. I thought it was so sweet that he had decided to write me a note. I missed JJ so much already but, I couldn't wait to see JJ again.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovies!

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rafecameronscockwarmer · 2 years

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THE KNIFE I TURN WITHIN MYSELF II (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Writer's Note: ok, first off, i just wanna thank everyone for the kind words and support, it means so much to me!! posting the first part of the story was soo nervewrecking, but i am so glad you guys are enjoying the story so far<3 i hope you guys enjoy the next part!

Word Count: 4.1K

WARNINGS: DUB-CON at times, STEPCEST (sorry lol), drug abuse/self harm, depression, smut eventually!!!! 18+ ONLY PLEASE

Summary: Kildare’s Kook Princess is forced to return home to the Outer Banks for the first time in two years since abruptly leaving for college. Unable to hold yourself together any longer, you’re forced to come face to face with the home and family you left behind and the boy you so desperately tried to forget.

You sat there frozen, sobering up almost instantly, unable to move as you both stared at each other from across the bonfire. You felt the air being ripped from your lungs as you held your breath, your chest hammering harder with each second that passed, eventually becoming louder than your surroundings as you could hear nothing but the sound of your own beating heart. You couldn’t move, your body paralyzed with fear as you looked at the shocked look on his face. The look didn’t last for long as it was soon replaced with a look of disgust while he clenched his jaw, finally noticing who you were with and whose arms were wrapped around you as you sat by the fire.

JJ looked down at you, feeling your body tense up as he followed your gaze, eventually seeing Rafe standing there scowling at you both. You prayed he would keep his distance, and for once in his life, not cause a scene, but that was merely wishful thinking on your part. He stalked over fists clenched as Topp and Kelce followed behind him unaware of what was about to unfold. The pit in your stomach grew with each step he took, as he eventually made his way to your group, alerting the rest of the Pogues who all tensed up at the sight of Rafe. You knew their history with Rafe, hell, the whole island did and while you used have the tendency to be able to look past his fuck ups, you weren’t going to allow him to ruin your arrival home just because he couldn’t control his rage.

“Haven’t even been back on the island for a day and you’re already slumming it?” Rafe sneered, his gaze dropping to JJ, as Top and Kelce looked over at him, both surprised at the malice in his voice. He hadn’t spoken to you like that since before your parents were married and it came as a shock to everyone, Sarah included, her eyes widening.

“The fuck is your problem, Rafe? I thought you’d be glad Y/N’s home.” Sarah asked as he ignored her, his eyes locked with yours as you sat there, still unable to speak.

He finally looked over at her rolling his eyes, “Yeah well don’t think Sarah, should be easy for you.”

You finally regained control of your body as you stood up pissed off, “Oh fuck off, that is so rich coming from you! Don’t speak to her like that.” you snapped. JJ stood up, placing his hand on your arm, but you shrugged it off so you could walk over and stand face to face with Rafe. Your heart softened as you stared into his blue eyes, only for a second, before reminding yourself why you were mad at him. He was high you realized, his pupils more blown than yours, you could see it all over his face, you just hoped he couldn’t see it on yours. You both scowled as neither of you said anything to each other, everyone around you confused as to what was going on between the two of you. You silently pleaded with your eyes to him, not here, not now.

“What would dad say,” he laughed, “ if he knew both of you were slumming it with the island’s trash?” You knew deep down that he didn’t care enough about Sarah to be truly mad about her hanging out on the cut. It was expected from her, you on the other hand, not so much.

“What, as opposed to hanging out with entitled cokeheads, like yourself?” JJ asked sarcastically, you turned to tell him to stay out of it but didn’t get the chance to as Rafe swung on him, his fist connecting with JJ’s face. You and Sarah screamed as you both heard the sickening crunch of JJ’s nose breaking as Rafe pounded his fist into JJ’s face repeatedly.

“Rafe stop!” Sarah cried as Pope and John B did their best to pull him off their friend, until Topper and Kelce intervened, both of them starting their own fights with Pope and John B. You went to pull Rafe off of him, hoping your touch would distract him long enough for JJ to get away, but as he went to get another punch in, his elbow meeting your eye, knocking you down as you cried out in pain. Kie and Sarah both ran to you as you cradled your face in your hands.

Rafe whipped his head around at the sound of your cry, his anger disappearing when he realized you had gotten hurt because of him. He dropped JJ in the sand running over to where you lied, his eyes watering slightly knowing it was his fault you were hurt yet again by him, while you cried in pain from the throbbing in your head.

“Fuck, Y/N I-I-I didn’t mean to hit you I’m so sorry.” He reached out to grab your hand, but you snatched it back before he could even touch you, the hurt in his eyes evident.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”, you snarled standing up, with the help of Kie and Sarah. You looked at the broken boy before you, unable to even feel a twinge of sympathy for him in the moment.

“I..I’m sorry.” He mumbled, looking down, unable to look at the already darkening bruise on your face. He felt his heart crumble under your heated gaze.

“Fuck this.” You turned around to go home leaving everyone shocked, Sarah following you up the path away from the beach.

You glanced over at her as you both walked side by side together, “You don’t have to come with me, you know. I’m fine, I know you had plans to go with John B tonight.”

“Y/N, you just got punched in the face! Are you okay?”

“Elbowed, technically.”

“Same difference! Your eye is literally already starting to swell!” Sarah grabbed you by your arm, pulling you to a stop, forcing you to look at her. “Can I-...” she started, clearly struggling with her words, sighing she questioned, “Is Rafe the reason you haven’t come home? Did something happen between you two?” She silently pleaded for you to talk to her, her eyes searching your face for anything that could give her a clue, but you stared back at her blankly.

“No,” you lied, immediately feeling ashamed, Sarah looking skeptically back at you, “I-I just needed out of here Sarah, I know you know how that feels.” You both stared at each other until you looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer, telling her you were lying.

“Why do you do it?” she demanded, crossing her arms angrily, “Why do you always protect him, even when he doesn’t deserve it! He just beat JJ’s face in, and you're still doing it. Oh, and clearly something happened between you two, cause what the fuck was that?”

“I-it was nothing j-just mind your fucking business, Sarah!” you stuttered angrily, finally snapping, adrenaline from the prior confrontation still coursing through your veins, coupling with the drugs finally pushing you over the edge.

“If you want to lie to yourself that’s fine, but you can’t lie to me.” Sarah scoffed in disgust, rolling her eyes, turning to go back to the beach. She paused for a second, turning around, opening her mouth to say something, ultimately deciding against it before angrily snapping it closed, stomping away.

You didn’t stop her, in truth, you had no real desire to, just yearning for the comfort and sanctity of your bed as you turned to walk in the opposite direction. Your eyes welled with tears as the overwhelming events of the night began to register in your mind, eventually turning into full blown sobbing as you walked home. You wanted nothing more than to go back to LA, unable to stomach the thought of another night in the OBX. You shouldn’t have come back here, that much you knew.

You cried the entire walk back to Figure 8. When you arrived you noticed Rafe’s truck was nowhere to be found, thankfully you thought, but you could see the lights from the first floor on, indicating someone was home and up. You groaned when you realized that there was a very high chance of that someone being your mother, and that was the last thing you needed tonight. Instead you chose to walk around the side of the mansion, opting to scale the lattice connected to your room’s balcony, deeming it a less daunting task than walking through the front door and having a conversation with your mother.

You pulled yourself up over the balcony, peeling your clothes off the minute you made it into your room. Walking over to where your luggage sat, you dug through it until you found what you were looking for, pulling the Carolina blue shirt out with the name Cameron and number 8 emblazoned on the back. You pulled it over your head, unsure if done because of the comfort it once brought you, or out of the emotional masochistic tendencies you harbored internally. Locking your door, you shuffled over to the bed, cocooning yourself into the covers, imagining them as walls protecting you from the outside world until your body finally succumbed from exhaustion.

9 years ago.

You could hear Ward’s voice angrily carry throughout the house as he screamed at Rafe in the privacy of his office. He was caught fighting at school again, this time in your honor, quickly throwing punches at another boy in your grade. Rafe caught him pushing you down on the blacktop, and before you could even react, Rafe charged at the kid completely bulldozing him, hitting the boy until the teachers pulled them apart. You sat on the steps of the staircase at home, just within earshot, so you could hear the conversation but far enough to make a quick escape upstairs, if needed.

You tried to tell Ward it wasn’t Rafe’s fault that he was just defending you, looking after you like Ward told him to do but he refused to listen, insisting that Rafe’s issues had been a problem long before your arrival in their lives, and that Rafe needed to be put in his place. Your feelings on Ward were conflicting; you HATED how he treated Rafe, the two of you had gotten closer as time passed and it broke your heart to see the boy belittled and demeaned by the very person meant to protect and nurture him. Ward treated you as his own, and while you loved having a dad that was present and actually provided for his family, Ward reminded you too much of your own dad enough to hate him sometimes, this being one of those times.

Jumping at the sound of Ward’s office door opening, you ran up the stairs to your room, closing the door in fear of being caught eavesdropping. You heard someone coming up the stairs, Rafe, you assumed, confirmed seconds later by the slamming of his bedroom door. You hesitated for a moment before leaving your room, softly knocking on his door. He swung the door open, his eyes narrowed on the verge of tears, before realizing it was only you, quickly moving to the side allowing you to enter. You watched him pace back and forth from the bed, muttering to himself as he raised his fists to his face, attempting to ground himself. You were at a loss for words, watching as he started to breathe erratically, working himself up even more, leaving you feeling helpless.

“He always tells me to be a m-man you know,” Rafe stammered, his face red with frustration, “To do the right thing for once, and when I do it’s still not enough. What was I supposed to do? Let that half pogue piece of trash put his disgusting hands on you?”

“You did the right thing, no matter what he says,” you tried to assure him, smiling softly, his watery gaze looking over at you as he nervously brought his thumb to his mouth to bite it. Standing up, you walked over to him, placing your hands on either side of his face, trying to center him. Rafe was far too distraught, unable to stop the flow of tears that cascaded down his face, looking anywhere but you. You pulled him closer to you, holding him as he cried into your neck muttering to himself or maybe to you, you weren’t entirely sure, that he’d do better, be better, repeating it over and over again. You held him until his tears subsided, the two of you sitting in silence, your heart twisting at the sight of him crying, his heart twisting at the feeling of the comfort your touch brought him.

“Sometimes I feel like you're the only one on my side,” he mumbled underneath his breath, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Promise me you’ll always be on my side?”

“I’ll always be on your side,” you whispered, stroking his hair, his breathing finally evening out. “There’s nothing you could do or say that would ever change that.”

You awoke the next morning, head pounding as you stumbled out of your bed to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, you examined the bruise under your eye, sighing at the deep purple it had already transformed into. The swelling of your eye had already gone down, but the evidence of last night’s fight still lingered on your face as you attempted to make yourself look more presentable before making your way downstairs.

You could hear movement in the kitchen, stopping to mentally prepare yourself before entering the kitchen to see your mother fretting over a bouquet of flowers while Rafe sat at the island eating.

“Oh good, you’re up!” chirped your mother, as she walked over to greet you, her eyes widening at the state of your face, grabbing it to get a better look. “What the hell happened to your face?”

You looked over at Rafe, whose face all but sunk into his bowl refusing to make eye contact with you. You pulled yourself from your mother’s grip, walking around her to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

“I got a little too drunk last night and ended up face planting into a piece of driftwood on the beach. I’m fine, really.” you answered, as Sarah walked into the kitchen, a scowl on her face, evident that she heard your lie. You heard Rafe sigh in relief, his heart warming at your lie. You may be mad at him, he thought to himself, but your lie was proof to him that you were still on his side, you were still protecting him.

You sat across from him, not wanting to be directly next to him, grabbing a banana from the basket in the middle of the island, while your mom looked back and forth between the two of you, confused at the fact that neither you nor Rafe would look at each other.

“Well I’m just glad you're okay, but we have a lot of catching up to do,” your mom said pointedly, looking down at her watch, seeing the time, “Listen, I have a meeting at the club I have to get to, but I expect to see you there after for lunch. We’ll talk then.” You nodded your head, giving your mother a smile. Rose walked over, placing a kiss on your temple, squeezing your shoulder, “I’ve missed you baby, I'm glad you're home.”

“Me too.” You said weakly as she left the room, leaving you alone with Rafe and Sarah, who up until then, stood quietly in the corner watching the interaction unfold. None of you said anything to each other, Rafe continued to stare into his bowl, you at your banana and Sarah at the both of you.

“Unbelievable.” Sarah muttered, walking away, following your mother’s footsteps out the front door, leaving you alone with Rafe.

You started to panic internally, unprepared and way too sober for this, immediately regretting leaving your bedroom as you both sat staring at each other.

“I didn’t mean to..” Rafe trailed off, racking his brain for something to say now that he finally had you alone.

“It’s fine, Rafe, just drop it.” You sighed as you got up, leaving to go back to your bedroom. He grabbed your arm to stop you from going, you tried to pull away but his grip tightened on your arm, keeping you in place. Your heart skipped at the feeling of his skin on yours, it was the first time you had felt his touch in two years and as much as you hated yourself for it, you felt your body automatically relax into it.

“Why won't you talk to me?”

“You know why Rafe, don’t play dumb. We both know I’m better at it, anyways.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up at him, his eyes pleading for you, and you wanted nothing more than to just give in to him, to say you forgive him, to tell him that you missed him and to hold him again, but you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of winning.

You yanked your arm out of his grip as you went back to your room, in hopes of being alone. You should’ve known that wasn’t going to happen, because Rafe was already a few steps behind you, following you to your room.

“I’m sorry, okay? Just fucking talk to me!”

Ignoring him, you quickened your pace hoping to get into your room and behind a locked door before he could reach you, but his long legs eventually caught up with your pace.

Stopping outside your bedroom door, you spun around quickly, “Sorry about what, Rafe? Hmm?”

He looked down, eyes watering, before pushing you into your room and closing the door behind him.

“What the fuck? You need to leave Rafe, I’m serious. Get out!”

“Not until you talk to me! I need you to k-know…” He stammered, his chest heaving with frustration as he tried to push the right words out of his mouth. “I didn’t mean it, if I could take it back I would.”

“Didn’t mean what, Rafe?” You taunted him, trying to get him to admit what he did, you don’t know why you needed to hear him say it, you knew it wouldn’t make you feel any better.

“You know what…”

“You can’t even say it, can you? You can’t even admit what you did.” Shaking your head in disgust, his breathing became labored as he started pacing back and forth. He brought his hand to his face, holding his mouth as he tried to think of something to say. He knew there was nothing he could say that could take back what he did, but he needed you to know you were still his. That you’d always be his.

He grabbed your face, smashing your lips against his, biting your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open so he could move his tongue into your mouth, finally tasting you. You struggled against him, trying to push him away, but your body’s natural instincts won as you melted into it, briefly kissing him back before coming to your senses and pushing him off of you.

“Get out..” you whispered as tears appeared in your waterline, “Please just get out.”

“You’ll always be mine, Y/N. We both know it.” Rafe remarked as he walked out of your room, closing your door. He smiled to himself in the hallway, feeling victorious. Rafe knew it was only a matter of time before you gave in to him. He knew it the minute you kissed him back, even if it was only brief. Ignoring him was a lot easier when you were across the country, but you weren’t across the country anymore. You were just across the hall. You could deny it all you want, but you still wanted him, despite everything, he thought.

You kissed him back. You were still on his side.

Your mother’s meeting ran late, so you used it to your advantage by catching a buzz at the bar, in an attempt to numb the self hatred brewing in you at the moment. You kissed him. You fucking kissed him back. How could you be so fucking stupid you thought, as you tossed back the rest of your martini. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid, and you were not successful, not by a long shot. You didn’t know what to think, your mind running a million miles a minute, and the liquor did nothing to help in the slightest.

You signaled to the bartender for a refill, as the sound of your name could be heard from across the room, your mother’s voice already irritating you. The inevitable criticism hadn't even begun, but you were already ready for the conversation to end. You nodded at her, silently letting her know you’d make your way over to the table in a moment as she sat down waiting for you, staring at you inquisitively.

Eventually making your way to the table, you at least attempted to look happy to see her, but unfortunately she could see right through it.

“You could at least pretend to be happy to be home, you know.”

“I am happy to be home.” You defended, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

“Right.” Your mother quipped, placing her napkin onto her lap, while you reached for your drink. “Yeah, you seem really enthusiastic.”

“God, did you bring me here just to criticize me?”

“I’m not criticizing you, stop being so dramatic.” Rose said, clearly exasperated with your attitude, “You’ve been gone for two years, Y/N, two years. You don’t think that didn’t hurt me? Especially with the way you left, in the middle of the night, leaving only a note?”

You swallowed back tears as you thought about what to say. “You knew I was leaving for college anyways, I don’t see what the big deal is. So I left a little bit earlier than planned, so what?”

“So what? Is that really all you have to say?”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“Well how about ‘I'm sorry’ for starters?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I-I just don’t understand, Y/N. You left, and stayed gone . You don’t even look like my little girl anymore. You’re drunk before noon, coming home with black eyes.” Rose started, her eyes glossy, as she did her best to keep it together.

“I told you it was an accident!”

“Yeah? Well I don’t believe you. You just seem.. so vacant. Like you’re not really here.”

“Oh, and you got this off of what? One interaction? You weren’t even here to greet me yesterday, God forbid your child comes before your club duties.” You snorted.

“That’s not fair.”

“I just don’t know what you want me to say, okay? I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I didn’t visit. I-I just needed out okay, I felt like I was fucking suffocating here!” You snapped, embarrassing her as she mouthed an apology to the neighboring table. You could start to feel the unsavory side effects of withdrawal, as your body screamed for something to numb the ache that had made a permanent home in your chest.

“Language, Y/N, please. We’re in public for Christ sakes.”

“Whatever.” You mumbled, sipping your beverage, praying that it would be enough to shut your body up until you could give it what it really wanted.

“What happened between you and Rafe?” Your mother questioned, your body filling with dread. Unable to look at her, you focused solely on your fingers pulling the skin off your cuticles underneath the table, the pain satisfying in you what the alcohol couldn’t. “You two wouldn’t even look at each other this morning, and he’s not been right since you left. What happened?”

Your heart involuntarily leaped at learning that your absence affected him just as much as you leaving him affected you, but you quickly shut it down.

“Nothing happened, mom. I-I just wanted away from this island, away from the whole stupid kook vs pogue war, away from our societal duties,” rolling your eyes once more, finally making eye contact with her, “It was all just too much.”

Her eyes softened at you, there was some truth to your words and she could see that. Being a kook, princess of the kooks at that, was a lot of pressure on you. You were the golden child, your achievements and feats, usually overshadowing whatever fuck up Rafe was committing at the moment. You brought light and honor to the Cameron family name, whereas Rafe tarnished it. You couldn’t handle that pressure anymore. Rafe was just the final nail in the coffin.

“I just miss you so much.” Rose whispered, tears wetting her eyes as yours did the same.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You softly smiled at her, probably the first genuine smile she’d seen from you since your arrival. “I missed you mom, more than you know. I’ll do better.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

taglist: @belcalis9503 @hayleesworld96 @hysteriahall @spideyssoldier @fangirlwithlou

thank u all who wanted to be tagged it literally means the world to me (,: pls enjoy!

#drew starkey #obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe cameron smut #outer banks fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #stepbrother!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you

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supercriminalbean · 1 year

Text

Piano man

BAU x GN! Reader.

Request: I was wondering if I could request the BAU Team x GN reader who knows how to sing and play guitar. The team goes on a case where the unsub is killing people who sing from bars and killing them. Reader decides to put on a little proformance to draw the unsub out but it works a little too well and they kidnap the reader. What would happen if the unsub finds out the reader is a BAU agent? Or do they already know? I would totally love some dad Rossi and Hotch

Summary: The reader needs to bait out the unsub, but what happens when their past catches up with them. They're in extreme danger, but does their team get there in time to save them?

Words: 13.4k

Warnings: Abuse, knifes, drugs, blood. Crying, mental break down, swearing, degrading. Injuries, deaths, panic, mention of sexaully abuse and past abuse. Grooming, killing. (If I have missed anything let me know)

A/N: I'm so sorry for how long this took me to write, um also I kinda took this idea and ran with it, like I didn’t mean for it to become this long. I hope I did it justice and you like it, thank you so much for my first request.

“I got a lead, I got something” Garica squeals excitedly, her face appearing on the tv screen, in the conference room. Her voice breaking the tense silence. At the moment, it's only you, Hotch and JJ in the room, while the rest of the team is out in the field.

“What you got Pen” You're head shooting up at the sound of her voice, gratefully for a lead. The last few hours have just been repeatedly dead end, everyone starting to grow exhausted and hopeless as the case drags along.

“Yes, okay so you know how we couldn’t figure out how the unsub must be meeting his victims will I have found video evidence that places all three of our victims at different bars on open mic night, and damn are they good I mean they are good good” Garcia explains, before putting a video up of elizabeth, the second victim. She up on stage playing guitar singing a cover of Taylor Swift Love Story, her voice as sweet as honey smiling and hyping up the crowd before she starts singing another song. Garcia turns the video off, her face reappearing on the screen, with a pained expression on her face.

“You did say the unsub been cutting out their vocal cords, didn't you?” Garcia groans, her face screwing up in disgust.

“Well, that is one way for the unsub to scope out his victims, and after a show like that random people will be coming up to you all night, it wouldn’t look strange at all if he watches them all night after that” You sigh, feel bad for the victims, they never saw it coming. A fun night out with friends turn deadly, just for sharing their talent.

“So if he goes to open mic nights, all we need to do is find one and scope the place out trying to find him, before he finds his next victims” Hotch states sighing with regret, knowing that the chances of finding him before his next victim isn’t high.

“What if we use someone as bait.. Have someone on stage that can bring him out, see if he is in the crowd” You look up at Hotch as you speak, nerves running through your body at the thought of the lecture your boss is about to give you.

“We are not using innocent bystanders as bait (Y/L)”Hotch scoffs, staring down at you in disbelief.

“I wasn’t talking about bystanders” Your voice goes quiet, taking a deep breath as you find the courage. “I’m talking about me, I can go on stage and search the room see if I can find someone who gives off the unsub energy”

“Can you sing?” JJ asks, turning to you curiously.

“I can, pretty well actually” Smiling at her before turning back to Hotch. “And I can play guitar, I can give one hell of a performance, get him to focus on me, then boom we got him” Smiling hopefully at him, only for him to cross his arms glaring at you.

“I don’t like this, not one bit” He declares. “We need a different plan”

“Well, you better think of one fast sir, because If I remember correctly, there is an open mic night tonight down at Red Cowboys tonight, and I know it's pretty popular” You lean back in your chair, glaring back at your boss, not ready to back down fully.

~~~

An hour passes and the rest of the team has now returned back from the field and has been fully updated with how the unsub finds his victims. Everyone sits around the table throwing ideas around as to how they could try to figure out who the unsub is, but nothing solid really comes about.

“You know I still think (Y/n) idea is the best we got” Morgan pipes up, interrupting JJ.

“No Morgan, we aren’t doing that” Hotch huffs, glaring across the room at the man leaning against the wall.

“Actually Hotch, think about it, I think Morgan got a point here, If we put one of our agents in the unsub way they have a better chance than just anyone else” Rossi speaks up, after staying quiet on the topic.

“Dave, it's too risky” Hotch argues back, earning an eye roll from you and Rossi.

“Hotch, I’m not saying I go in with nothing okay, look all we need him to do is get close enough for him to drug me or something just something that we can arrest him on right?” Staring up at him, waiting for a small nod before continuing. “We get that, I give you guys a sign then you guys come in and arrested him, hey you can put a tracker on me just in case something happens, If that makes you feel better but I doubt that he will get out of the area with me alright” Smiling lightly up at him, knowing your logic and the fact no one else has a plan, means you win. It goes silent for a moment, just waiting for him to say something, after some brief silence, he finally sighs.

“How good of a singer are you?” He smiles a little. Relaxing a bit as he watches a grin spread across your face.

“Oh I am the best”

“Do you need a guitar?” Rossi asks, remembering what you had mentioned earlier.

“Nope, the bar will have one I remember from years ago, they always have a spare” Smirking secretive at them.

“Hang on?” Reid looks at you. “Have you sung there before?” He tilts his head at you, almost like a puppy.

“Oh did I forget to mention that this is my college town and I used to sing at the bar every Thursday night?” Grinning at them, knowing you have oh so many secrets involving this bar.

“Oooohhh I’m going to find videos” Garica exclaims loudly on the video call before disappearing, earning a low groan of regret from you while your team all laughs at your face.

~~~

You climb out of the taxi after arriving at the bar, deciding with Hotch that It would be better for you to turn up alone, just in case the unsub is watching everyone arrive. You walk into the bar, knowing that half the team is already in there, you head straight to the bar grinning even more as you spot your favourite bartender serving a group of college students. You decided to wait for him, standing behind them stopping closer after they disappear with their drinks.

“Hey there John” You smile happily at the bartender, your voice startles the older guy. He looks up at you slowly, a grin spreading over his face as his eyes land on you.

“Holy shit kiddo it's been years, how the hell are you?” He laughs softly, pouring you your usually drink already.

“I’ve been good, missed this place though, figure while I was in town I should come and visit you” Laughing softly, pulling your wallet out ready to pay.

“Put your goddamn wallet away (Y/n), this ones on the house” John smiles, handing your drink over. “Please tell me you're going to sing for us tonight kiddo, it's been way too long,” John smiles, cleaning down the benches. Getting the other bartender to take over as he talks to you.

“Oh I don’t know John, it's been too long. I'm probably a bit rusty now” You tease him, sipping on your drink. “Still make good drinks, thanks John”

“Oh come off it, do you know how much business you and your voice brought me back then, every Thursday and saturday night this place was packed out because of you kiddo” John gloats, remembering back to when you would take over the stage, bringing in crowds after crowds. Everyone gathers around just to hear you sing, watching as you perform for hundreds of people those weekends.

“Oh those were the days, weren’t they?” laughing softly to yourself glancing back at the stage. “You know what John, I think I have a few songs still in me” You wink over at him, earning a head tilting laugh from the old man.

“Good, hey you better sing my favourite tonight kiddo” John smirks, before walking back over to the crowd of customers wanting drinks.

~~~

You walk over to the sign up sheet, writing your name down, glancing up at the stage, where Tom the MC, for the night is introducing the next act. You walk back over to the bar, sitting down before scanning the bar, spotting Morgan and Emily sitting by the smoking door close by the stage. Your eyes next land on JJ and Rossi who are standing by the bar, a few people down from you, keeping an eye on you while still being able to see the whole room.

Half an hour passes by quickly, only about three people have been on stage so far, their songs and performance have been average so far, nothing that would have stood out to the unsub so far. After the last act is finished the MC walks back on stage, smiling as he holds the sign up sheet.

“Alright everyone, so we have had a few good warm up acts and I have something special for all you guys tonight, some of you old regulars might remember them from back in the days, please welcome back (Y/n) (Y/l)” Tom the MC introduces you loudly, beaming over at you. The table just out the door, from the smoking area, breaks into cheer after hearing your name. You laugh glancing over at them, noticing the old faces of your longtime supporters. You jump onto the stage, highing five Tom as you walk past him, forcing yourself to take a deep breath as your nerves start to rise.

“Well hey ya everyone” Grinning out at everyone, picking up the guitar that lays forgotten in the corner of the stage. You start tuning it as you look out at the crowd, nerves from being on stage after years spinning in your stomach, and the fact you're doing this for an unsub makes you feel even worse.

“So I may be a bit rusty. It's been a few years since I’ve done this, but I recognize a few faces out here tonight.” Smirking a little as you turn to the table that was just cheering you on before, strumming the guitar a little. “You oldies are still here huh?”

“Screw you (Y/L)” Jimmy laughs shouting out at you, his table laughing out at them.

“I'm good thanks Jim, but uh, how's your wife?” Sending him a wink as laughter topples around the room.

“Okay okay, I’m here to sing so I’m going to start with one of my favourites, also my old mate John here requested this, so here it goes” Smiling softly taking a deep breath, your fingers findling nervously with the chords, trying to find the right one. Stepping closer to the microphone looking out at the crowds, glancing over at Morgan and Prentiss who just smile encouragingly at you.

“Its nine o’clock on saturday,

The regular crowd shuffles in

There's an old man sittin' next to me

Makin' love to his tonic and gin

You close your eyes as you sing “Piano man” by Billy Joel, strumming the guitar with passion, falling into the rhythm. Your voice is smooth and collected, a smile pushing past the focus that's controlling you.

He says, "Son can you play me a memory,

I'm not really sure how it goes

But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man's clothes"

Your eyes slowly open, smiling widely as you sway along to the music, your table of regulars slowly join in, grinning up at you.

“Holy shit, they’re good” Morgan exclaims, letting out a low whistle, sipping his drink.

“Well, if they continue like this all night, there's no way the unsub is going to be able to stay away from them” Emily smiles at you, taken aback with how you managed to hide this talent of yours from them all this time.

“We need to take them out more often” Morgan grins when you start singing loudly, turning towards the table of regulars, singing louder with them, laughing as you do so. Soon your song ends, laughing softly, forgetting how much fun you have performing like this. But still remembering why you're doing this you scan the room, but you haven't felt any unfriendly eyes on you, yet.

~~~

“Okay, I think I forgot how much fun this place is, well it's mainly you, isn’t that right Harry, my man” Sending a wink over to your table in the doorway, your lovable Harry raises his glass at you laughing loudly. His voice raw from when he was practically screaming the words back at you.

“Okay so are you guys alright If I sing another song, maybe something a bit more upbeat now that I’ve found my voice again” Smirking out at the crowd, your eyes scanning the room once more. The room all burst out in cheers, claps erupts throughout the room, and that's when you get a cold shiver run down your spine. Your eyes glance straight over at Morgan needing to let them know he's here, and you got his attention.

“Alright I guess that's my answer, seeing as I have everyone's attention now” Forcing yourself to smirk at them all, eyes glance back over at Morgan who seems to be whispering into his comms having gotten your message.

“Stranger”

You play the guitar, singing “Hot in the city” By Billy Idol loudly full of passion. Dancing and jumping on the spot, getting the crowd up to join you with your dancing.

“It's hot here at night

Lonely, black and quiet

On a hot summer night

Don't be afraid

Of the world we made

On a hot summer night

Soon a small group is forming in front of you, joining in with your singing and dancing. You can’t help but grin to yourself when you hear your regulars from the table call out names like player and heartbreaker out to you.

'Cause when a long-legged lovely walks by

Yeah you can see the look in her eye

Then you know that it's

Hot in the city, hot in the city tonight

Tonight

Hot in the city, hot in the city tonight

Tonight”

You can still feel eyes staring at you when you sing, you do your best to look around the bar but you can’t see anyone who fits the profile. You decided to sing a couple more songs, making sure you do in fact have the unsubs eyes on you, and that he won’t be able to resist you by the end of the night. By the time you have finished your fourth song of the set, you feel as if you're starting to lose your voice, laughing as you bid the crowd farewell. Promising them that you will be back for a couple more songs later on in the night, needing to rehydrate your throat before you lose your voice all together.

~~~

You make your way to the bar, which now seems to be fully packed, almost impossible to move around. Laughing wildly, feeling many people pat you on the back, praising you as you make your way to the bar. Where John already has your drink ready for you, passing it to you with a grin on his face.

“A bit rusty huh?” He laughs when he sees you smile breathlessly at him, taking a sip of your drink straight away.

“Well maybe I still practise at home” You laugh along with the older man.

“I have always said this kid and I will say it again, you could go so many places with a voice and personality like yours”

“And I have told you a billion times John, that's just not what I want to do, I would prefer to help people than be a performer” You smirk at him shaking your head at him.

“Right so what, you're just throwing all of this away, huh?”

“I guess so but I’m happy so what, plus if I become famous, I can’t come back and perform just for you Johnny boy” Teasing him as he walks off, spinning around to look through the crowded bar. Feeling the icy cold feeling from earlier returning, he's close. You look over your shoulder but all you see is a bunch of college students staring at you smiling and giggling excitedly.

~~~

Throughout the night you don’t know how many times you have felt his eyes on you but you could never pinpoint him down. Multiple people have come up to you to chat and buy you drinks, happily accepting the drinks, but moving on to non alcoholic drinks knowing two in your system is far enough while working a case. Truthly you shouldn’t have any, but you know the unsub is more likely to come after you if you have alcohol in your system, so you took the risk.

As the night moves on you decide to head back on stage, getting a loud welcome as you do. Lots of young college students heading back towards the dance floor ready for the music to start once more.

“Well hey again” Smiling widely as you look out to the crowd deciding you weren't going to focus on the unsub no more. Now it's time to just enjoy the energy the bar has created and do your best to relax. Maybe then something will happen. Picking up the guitar again, smiling at the crowd, your eyes shooting out to your table of regulars smiling at them.

“Alright guys so I'm going to sing one that my old time supports, used to request every weekend, I swear they don’t know any other songs but this” Laughing as you see their eyes pick up, grins breaking out across their faces, cheering breaks out across their area, making you laugh softly as you strum away on the guitar.

Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she's never had a backstreet guy

I bet her momma never told her why

You smile as the words slide through your lips, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment. Watching as your regulars all get up making their way over to the dance floor to sing along with you. The song moves by fast, doing your best to stop the laughter slipping through your words as you look down the stage, singing the words back with your crowd. The next few songs slide by and you get informed by Tom that you need to start winding the crowd down as the place is going to close in 15 minutes, nodding at him knowing your time is coming to an end, you look back out at the crowd. Looking over at the door where Hotch and Reid have now entered and our now speaking with Rossi, JJ and Pretniss. Morgan stays at his table, just in case you need him, your eyes skim past him and to the table of regulars who half of them have already left but a few of them are still there and someone new has joined them. Your eyes narrow slightly at him, you're unable to see his face, but there's something about his presence that just seems so familiar about him. Morgan follows your eyes then nods at you, knowing to keep an eye on that man.

“Alright guys, so Tom here has just informed me that, sadly our time tonight is coming to an end” You force your eyes away from the man, grinning out at the crowd instead, doing your best to keep up the energy. A chorus of boos and no’s start being yelled from the crowd, making you chuckle at them.

“Oh I know I know, If I could I would stay longer but sadly we can’t do that, but hey we have time for one more song, so why don’t we just enjoy our time together okay?” Smirking out at them, spotting Emily and JJ making their way over to Morgan, your eyes flick over to where Rossi is, seeing him and Reid watching you, smiling encouragingly. Only then do you see Hotch grinning at you, holding up his phone, recording you. You can’t help groan softly before you start singing one last time.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train going anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train going anywhere

You close your eyes as you fall into the song, feeling the warmth of the love of the music fill you up. A small part of you is so excited to be sharing this side of your life with your team, knowing that they would never make fun of this side of your life, it made you feel loved already. Your eyes open again, grinning out at the crowd watching them dancing together, even seeing Emily, JJ and Morgan, swaying away at the table smiling up at you.

Soon the next couple songs come to an end, and you're helping the staff send everyone home, including your team.

“Alright everyone tonights been a blast, but it's time you all get out of here and go home, don’t forget to pay you tab and get a taxi home if need be, no one better be drunk driving tonight” You speak into the microphone a few time, watching as the crowds makes its way out of the bar and off onto the street. Your team makes its way out, Morgan and JJ waiting outside by the entrance for you while the rest wait around the building looking for anyone suspicious.

~~~

You spend about 20 minutes inside the bar, helping the staff pack up, sending a quick text to Hotch letting him know what you were doing. You spent the time chatting away with the staff, catching up with the ones who worked there back in the day you were a regular. Some of your regulars were still around, coming up to have a chat with you.

“I didn’t think you three would still be out this late” You smile at them, feeling tired as the day starts to wind down.

“Well we couldn't leave before we got the chance to talk to you now could we” Jimmy smiles, bringing you into a quick hug. “How have you been, kid?” Harry asks, giving you a firm handshake.

“I’ve been good, I'm actually working for the FBI now, so I have to say I must be doing something right” You grin at them proudly, taking in their impressed looks, reminding the last time you saw them you were a struggling college student who didn’t even know where life was going to take them.

“Holy shit you made it, that's real impressive kiddo” Harry smiles patting you on the shoulder as you three make your way to the exit.

“Woah, an FBI agent, damn and here I thought you would be a singer or something” Jimmy exhales shaking his head. “I knew you were going to do great things but I never expected that”

“Hey, I never thought I would make it this far either but here I am” You smile at them as you walk out the door, spotting JJ and Morgan standing beside the door waiting for you.

“Well, you better not be a stranger, (Y/n) you better come on back and perform for us again” Harry shakes his finger at you.

“Oh you know I will Harry” You laugh softly as you watch them both cross the road making their way to the taxi stand. With one final look around, having felt a pair of unwanted eyes on you since you exited the club, pulling your jacket closer around you, you make your way over to JJ and Morgan, watching their eyes light up as you approach them.

“Well hello rockstar” JJ teases you, earning an eye roll from you.

“Hey, oh I am so ready to go back and sleep right now” You joke, rubbing your arms feeling a cold, given the icy feeling in the air. Morgan can’t help but laugh at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him as you three walk towards the SUVs.

“Well I have to say (Y/n) I do definitely think you got our unsub attention, but damn, why didn’t you tell us you could sing?”

“You never asked” Smirking up at him as he opens the car door for you, climbing in. Morgan and JJ both get in, Morgan in the driver's seat with JJ in the back.

“So, I’m guessing the plan has now changed, Hotch doesn’t want me travelling back alone?”

“Nope, plus we think he is more likely to attack you tomorrow than tonight anyway, Hotch wants everyone to meet in his room to talk to you tonight, debrief there and then tomorrow see if someone new starts following you around” JJ informs you, looking out the window, making sure no one is following you back to the hotel room.

“Right” Sighing softly, laying your head on the window, replaying the night in your head, trying to think if you did see him or not. The only person that stood out was that man in the black and green hat.

~~~

After you make it up to your room, walk into the hotel and up to your room alone. You had discussed with JJ and Morgan that you would go in alone and ten minutes later, when the other four arrive they would all come up and all meet in Hotch's room, and text you to join them. Giving the unsub time to check out where you're staying and let him think you're alone, that is if he's watching you. None of you saw anyone following you but he is good at blending in.

You unlock your door, walking in, shrugging your jacket off before flopping down on the bed, feeling exhausted from the day. You check your watch, noticing it's now two am, you have been awake since six, it's been a long ass day. You sigh softly, struggling to keep your eyes open, your body just wanting to give up and go to sleep already. Maybe that's why you never noticed the wardrobe door creaking open, almost silent footsteps approaching your bed slowly. The thing that does get your attention is the icy feeling running down your spine, your eyes flick open in an instance. Acting on instincts, you roll onto your back away from where you sense thd danger is. You're lucky you do, because as soon as you're facing upwards, you see him. Standing over you, holding a needle in one and a knife in the other. You're regretting leaving your gun inside your jacket.

“Oh shit” Is all you are able to breathe out, as you stare the Unsub dead in the eyes. His face is screaming familiarity, but you're unable to place it, currently being frozen in fear.

“Well, well, well (Y/n) I’ve been waiting a long time for this” His grin of evil, makes you lunge into action. Pushing yourself on to your feet, shoving him away. Spriting to the door, you reach alot faster than you should due to hes shoving you against it, a cry slips through your lips, when your head collides against the hook. He chuckles deeply at you, pressing himself against you, his mouth against your ears. His hot breath making the hairs on your neck stand up, fear rushing through your body.

“Now I got you, now you're going to be all mine, not even your team is able to stop me, are they?” He snickers as the needle slides into your neck, watching as you don’t even attempt to struggle.

You knew the plan was for him to attack you, you wanted this to happen, you trust your team to stop him from leaving this place with you. That's the last thing you think as everything goes black.

~~~

“Hey Morgan, you did text them right?” Hotch asks again, pacing the room his arms crossed. It's been 5 minutes since Morgan sent that text and it shouldn’t take you that long to get here, your room is just down the hall from his. What the hell is taking you so long?

“Yeah Hotch I did, they should be here by now” Morgan sighs. Everyones tenses up looking at each other.

“I don’t like this” JJ adds getting off the couch, looking at the door then at Hotch. Not another word is spoken by the time Hotch is now through the door. Practically spriting to your room, his team close on his heels. He only slows down to pull out the spare key card, the rest of his team, arming themself readying themself for what they may find. Hotch gives a quick nod to Dave who's the closest to him, before unlocking the door and shoving it open. Everyone enters quickly, spreading throughout the room, their blood running cold when there's no sign of you. Reid slides into the bathroom, calling out ‘clear’ before rejoining his team in the main room, everyone placing their guns away. Everyone's face has a different emotion on it, fear, worry, concern, anger, and everyone is starting to be filled with regret as they make their way to your bed. Your room is in perfect condition, all expect the wardrobe door that is wide open and your bed. Your gun and badge are laid perfectly right in the middle, but between the gun and badge is a collection of photos, photos of you. These photos aren’t just recent, most are dating back to your time in college, a couple from high school and some recent ones from just a few weeks back, just before the murders began.

“This isn’t good” Morgan is the first to speak, his eyes shooting up to his unit chief waiting for his next order.

“Okay, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ I want you three outside now, see if anyone has seen anything suspieces, check the carmares ring Garcia, I want her checking security cameras, find something” Hotch barks his order, trying his hardest to keep his fear at bay, his team runs out of the room making their way downstairs instantly. Dave walks over to the bed, taking a photo of how things are laid out before sliding his gloves on and picking up the collection of photos.

“If.. we know that the unsub would have an end target, its (Y/n) Isn’t it?” Reid's voice is small, his eyes studying the photo in Rossi's hand.

“If they are, then this whole thing was a trap and they're in a lot more danger than they know” Rossi sighs, patting Spencer gently on the shoulder handing him the photos.

~~~

Groaning softly, your body feeling heavily as you slowly start to wake up forcing your eyes to open. You try to roll over onto your side so you can go back to sleep, you don’t want to get up yet. Ugh, the noise that woke you up in the first place is the back, a low beeping sound. Oh its your alarm you realised, you try to move your hand but it wont move far, its like something holding it back. Groaning as you force your eyes to finally open, taking a few seconds to get used to the darkness of the room you're in. Wait, why is it so dark, and so cold? Your eyes are focusing on the door in front of you, confusions filling you before you remember. The Unsub. Suddenly your body becomes full on alert, looking down at yourself, noticing you're tied to an old wooden chair, you trying to even move your finger but they don’t even twitch. You can’t feel them, you can’t feel anything, you can only move your eyes. Gulping thickly as you do your best to keep your heart from racing knowing that it's only the drugs in your system doing this to you, and once your team finds you, you will be fine. From what you can see in the room, it seems like an old wooden workshop. The shelves are full of tools and bottles of things you do not wish to know, knowing that these are his supplies and will most likely be used on you. Makes a shiver run down your spine, goose bumps spreading over your body. Fuck, this is not a situation you really want to be in, but your team will find you, they will come and everything will be fine. You force yourself to take deep calming breaths as you repeat those words in your head, holding back the images of the old victims from flashing in your mind, not needing to know what this man has planned for you.

~~~

You're not sure how long you're left alone for, sitting in the chair doing your best to keep your mind from spiralling. You hear a few creaks behind you, tensing up as you prepare to speak to the unsub, going through the profile in your mind. You hear a door open and close behind you before heavy footsteps start approaching.

“Oh so you are awake” His voice is upbeating, sounding upbeat and almost excited.

“You took your time coming in here” You glare up, waiting for him to come into your line of sight.

“Oh well (Y/n) I had to make sure that your team wouldn’t be able to find us so soon you see, I need to go back and cover my tracks” HIs chuckle is light, he grins coming to a stop in front of you, crouching down. You can feel the blood drain from your face as you see his face, his smile throwing you back into your past.

“H h hector..” Your stomach feels as if it's dropped past your feet, making you dizzy with the fall. His grin makes you pull at the restraints, trying to get as far back from him as possible.

“It's good to know you still remember me, especially seeing how long it's been, you have had such a successful career and yet you still remember your college music professor” He smirks, reaching out to stroke your hair, you jerk violently out of his way. You know that's the wrong move, of course it is. But there is no part of you that will ever allow him to touch you, not again. His smile drops, rage filling his once happy eyes, he stands up straight which makes you shiver in apprehensiveness. His hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head to the side with force making you wince, biting down on your lip.

“Don’t you dare move away from me you bitch!” He snarls, leaning down so he can speak directly into your ear. “If you even attempt to do that again, I’ll make sure that when your team does finds your body, that they won’t ever be the same again, especially that Penelope girl” He push you back away, a chuckle slipping through his lips, as he watches the fear drain on your face. He knows Garica, he knows your team. Fuck, this must have been a trap, this must be his pay back.

~~~

He leaves you alone for a while, you figure it's so he can regain his composure, wanting to have more self control when it comes to you. His end game. You keep pulling at the ropes binding you to the chair, just hoping you can get it loose enough to wiggle your wrist out of. Then maybe, just maybe you will have a chance of survival until your team can find you, if not then you have no chance back to sit still and play his game until your team gets here. Soon you hear the door open again, your motions come to a halt taking a deep breath ready to play his game.

“Well hello gorgeous” Hector sings songs. He walks over to you carrying his own chair and places it right in front of you, smirking at you before taking a seat.

“Hello” You reply coldly.

“Oh your highness, don’t be like that” He chuckles, his eyes fill of mischief.

“Look, I know you're eventually going to kill me, so what's the plan in the meantime, torture?” Scoffing as you roll your eyes, doing your best to put up a bored facade.

“Oh I figured, since the last time we had plans and you cancelled, that you owe me a song” Hector leans forward, raising his eyebrow, almost daring you to challenge him. You stare at him, you could follow his rules but then he could easily get bored of you, or you could play with him, give in after he has a bit of ‘fun’ acting as if it's all up to him.

“No” You glare back at him, which just earns a small smirk.

“No? Do you not remember what I did to my last victims, do you want me to do the same to you?”

“I know whatever games you want to play I'm still going to end up with my throat cut out” You huff out, glaring at him trying to give him every inch of your anger as you can. His smile grows as he stares at you until his laugh is bouncing through the room. A laugh that feels almost condescending like.

“Oh no, with you I have something a little more special planned, so why don’t you be a good little doll for me and sing me a damn song so you don’t have to find out so soon what it is, yeah?” His eyes narrow as he speaks, his voice darkening, clenching his fist as he does.

“I said no, what are you deaf?”

His hand wacks across your face hard, leaving a stinging feeling behind as his hand wraps around your throat, pulling you close to him. Forcing you to whimper as your restricts yank you backwards.

“Don’t be smart with me, one last chance my sweetness” His words make your mind beg you to agree with him but your profiler side knows if you want to get out of this alive, you need to go through with this.

“I said no, dumbass” Gulping tickly as his hand tightened, making it impossible to get any air in. Your mind runs empty as he pulls out a knife, placing it on your cheek grinning at you one last time before he starts to slice. You try to clench your eyes close as he moves the knife off your face, the pointed end staying on your skin, tracing down your neck moving down to your arm, where he starts slicing once more. Once the knife begins to slice, that's when you go inside your own mine, doing your best to dissociate from your body.

~~~

It's been 10 hours since the team has had contact with you. Everyone is running on no sleep, and are getting paranoid having no clue as to how long the unsub will want to keep you for. Currently Rossi, Prentiss and Reid have gone back to the bar to see if they can find any clues, see what they can find from talking to the staff who were working last night. While Hotch, JJ and Morgan stay behind at the precinct to work with Garcia on digging into your past, seeing if the unsub could be someone you know from back when you went to college.

“Okay so what am I looking for here?” Garcia asks, popping up on Hotch’s laptop, her face stained with tears, bags under her eyes.

“Okay Garcia, start looking for people who went to college at the same time (Y/L) did, narrow it down with anyone who attended their music class” Hotch instructs, looking down at his file of the previous victims.

“Okay, we have 25 names, small college helps with that I guess, now what?”

“Okay, do any of them have any charges of violence, or stalking charger?” Morgan asks, turning to look at Garcia, watching as she types away at her keyboard.

“Down to five names, okay give me more”

“Hey Garcia, is there like a Havery or a Henry um something like that on the list” JJ pipes up, eyes widening as she remembers something you mentioned years ago.

“Um no, but wait, hang on there is a Hector Jameson, why” Garcia looks up, her eyes full of hope.

“I remember years ago me and (Y/n) were talking about people with names we would never date and they mentioned this guy in their music class and, they didn’t want to talk about it but I could tell there was something about him that they wasn’t ready to talk about” JJ explain, pain and anger flashing on to her face, remembering just how uncomfortable you became after accidentally muttering his name.

“Oh jesus..” Garica whispers, staring at her computer as she types.

“Baby Girl, what is it?” Morgan calls for her.

“He’s the music professor at the college” Her eyes land on Morgan, worry and fear running through them. Hotch and JJ tenses up before glancing briefly at Morgan, seeing his fist clenched tightly, anger pumping through his veins.

“Send us an address Garcia”

“I will, but he also has a few cabins under his name, but no address for those” She sighs softly, sending them his addressee.

“It's okay, we’ll figure it out, thanks Garcia see what else you can find out about him” Hotch tells her before hanging up.

~~~

Blood drips down your arms, forced whimpers and cries slip out of you.

“Please stop please stop, I’ll sing for you” You whimper, finally deciding to give in.

“Oh, what a good doll you are” He grins happily. Sitting back down, playing with the knife in his hand.

“W what would you like?” Your voice is shaky, glancing up at him with fear.

“Why don’t you sing our song?” His smirk digs into your soul. Tears swell in your eyes as the song starts playing in your mind.

“D do you have a guitar that I can play as well.. That way I can make it perfect” Your lip twitches trying hard to not cry, as he glares at you.

“You just want your hands to be freed, no” He scoffs, coming to a stop playing with the knife, ready to use it again.

“No no I don't.. It's okay I’ll just sing” Gulping thickly as you take a deep breath doing your best to keep the shakiness out of your voice.

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish,

I'll be your fantasy

I'll be your hope, I'll be your love,

be everything that you need

I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do.

You manage to sing the song perfectly until the last paragraph where you slip up, your fear making it impossible to keep singing with a stable voice. This only angered him like you thought it would.

“You fucking bitch” He sneers at you, dropping his knife as he gets up, grabbing your hair.

“Im sorry Im sorry, please just let me try again” You beg him, fighting against your instincts to pull away from his touch.

“No, you know if you just took my offer when you were younger then I could of helped you, you could of been famous by now, instead your some useless FBI agent and that's all you're going to be known for” He smirks, getting to his feet, moving his hand from your hair to cup your face. “All you're going to be known for is someone who never went for opportunities and that's why you're going to die, I mean not right now but soon” His evil smile makes you lunge towards him, trying to headbutt him, no longer caring about the consequences of your action. Oh how stupid that was. All he does is smile more at you, before stepping away, walking to his wall of tools picking up an empty water bottle and filling it up with something you can’t see. He walks back over to you grabbing your jaw with such strength you didn’t know he had.

“I bet your thirsty baby, open up for me” Your eyes widen as things start making sense, you clench your jaw tighter, knowing once you do, that everything is over.

“Stubborn bitch aren’t you” He grabs his knife that lays forgotten on the knife shovinging it deeply in your shoulder, causing you to cry out in pain, your mouth opening wide enough for him to squirt some liquid into your mouth. It slides down your throat, leaving the worst burning feeling you have ever felt behind, as if someone has sent fire to your throat. You scream out in pain as it counts to burn, his laugh is the last thing you hear before blackness takes over.

~~~

“Okay so we talked to a few of (Y/n) old classmates who were also in Hector class and we think we found something” Rossi announces as he and Emily walk into the room where the rest of the team is currently, all spread around the table throwing ideas off each other.

“Yeah, it turns out he liked to take a few of his students out camping, apparently the fresh air was known to help encourage the creative flow, (Y/n) apparently went on a few of his camping trips with fellow classmates but everyone we talked to told us that (Y/l) was definitely his favourite student, spent every waking second talking and helping them” Emily huffs taking a seat. “Some students think they used to have a thing together, they were of age so maybe they did” Emily supplies, looking at the papers spread across the table.

“Not voluntarily I bet, they were groomed!” Morgan snaps, slamming his hand down as he gets up in huff, feeling frustrated and scared for you.

“Morgan, we know that could be possible, but we need to stay calm” Hotch starts, looking up at him, worrying. Everyone knew these types of cases already hit him hard, but when it comes to a member of a team, feelings get out of hand.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Morgan snaps, before storming out of the room, quickly followed by a concerned Reid.

“Okay, I know we are worried about (Y/n) but we are no close to finding where his cabins are so, I want everyone to go back to the hotel get some sleep, It's been over 24 hours since anyone has slept and I can’t have us continuing like this” Hotch decided looking up to see three faces staring back at his in disbelief.

“No, no I'm not sleeping until I know they're safe, until we find them Hotch, no way” JJ argues, crosses her arms.

“They wouldn’t sleep if It was us out there missing, no way I’m resting” Emily agrees with JJ, glaring back at Hotch.

“Guys, we are no help to (Y/n) if we wear ourselves down” Hotch tries to reason, knowing it's useless.

“Hotch is right” Dave stands up for him, having seen how hard the team has been working for the last 30 hours. “It's coming close to 42 hours without sleep, this isn’t good, and when we do find them we need to be rested up enough to take him down” Daves words hang in the air for a few seconds as the girls mull them over.

‘Fine” Emily slowly agrees, nodding.

“Okay, but the second we have any information we got to go” JJ sighs getting up.

“We’ll take shifts, you three go first, after two hours we swap” Hotch smiles sadly, knowing it's what they did last time this happened.

~~~

It's now been 20 hours that you have been missing, and the team has gotten some sleep. Even including Garcia who fell asleep on the couch in Morgan's office. Now with some fresher eyes they are relooking as to where his cabins could be, looking at where the classes used to go camping. With some connection Garcia now has access to a satellite. Looking through the area they think his cabin could be in to see if they could find something.

“Guys, do you see this?” Penelope's voice is quiet, but slowly filling with hope.

“Two heat signatures” Morgan responds, getting to his feet.

“That cabin looks to be around 5 miles from where they did the camping trip” Reid replies, everyone jumping to their feet, Instructing Garica to send the coordinates to their phones as they run out the door. They take two separate vehicles, Rossi, JJ and Morgan in one, Hotch, Emily and Reid in the other, with SWAT and medics on the way.

“Okay, Babygirl speaks to us, where exactly are they in the cabin?” Morgan asks, a phone call connecting them all, when they start getting closer.

“Okay, so it appears they are out in the backroom, one of them seems to be moving outside, wait wait” Garcia voice grows panic as stares at the screen. Everyone looks at each other, the tension growing.

“Garcia, what's going on?” Hotch demands. His grip tightening on the wheel, terrified of the idea of losing you.

“He’s getting in his car, looks to be moving towards you but um” Penelope's voice fills with sadness, doing her best to keep the tears at bay she takes a deep breath. “(Y/n) heat signatures, its weakening” The shaky words make Morgan and Hotch speed up.

“Alright, just keep an eye on them, kitten” Rossi sighs softly looking out at the road, knowing they can’t be too far away now.

“Hotch, I think that's him” Morgan eyes widen seeing the unsub car approaching them on the other side, driving fast and impatiently.

“Alright, Morgan you get (Y/n) we got him” Hotch demands, doing a u-turn as the unsub passes him, turning his sirens on.

Everyone feels on edge as they split up, there is only one reason why he would have left you. Now they don’t know if they’re too late to save you. Time seems to run slow as they race towards the cabin, hope fading away.

~~~

Your throat feels like it's raw, the feeling in your body is back, making everything ache. You feel exhausted trying your hardest to stay awake, knowing your team has to be close by now, right?

“Well, you’re finally awake bitch?” he snarls, wrapping his hand through your hair, yanking your head backwards making your eyes shoot open.

“Go fuck yourself” You retort weakly at him. When you speak it makes your throat feel like you swallowed a bunch of seawater and choked. The burned feeling makes your eyes water, just begging for all of this to end, quickly.

“That's not polite” he chuckles, his hand travelling down your neck. Shivering under his touch, wishing you would never have to feel his hands on you again, hopeful today will end it all. You're not going to let him win, not again. You decide when taking a deep breath, spitting up into his face.

“Your fucking dead for that” His voice is oddly calm, and thats the only thing your able to concentrate on as you feel his fist contacting with your face over and over again. Your sure small whimpers are leaving you as the chair falls to the side, your head smashing into the ground. His feet join in on the beat, but you know it doesn’t matter anymore because your childhood dog is standing him, waiting for you. You smile softly at them, knowing it's finally over. Your dog is the last thing you see as the world goes black.

~~~

Mogan, Rossi and JJ get out of the car, making their way to the cabin. They enter quickly, checking the whole cabin before they find you in the backroom tied to a chair that lays on the ground. Their hearts drop as they see the state you are in, your head split open, blood pooling. There's dried blood and bruises covering your arms, your face looks swollen, your lips puffy and some chemical burns around your mouth.

JJ is the first to reach you, falling to her knees in front of you, her mind begging you to still be alive. Her finger slid on to your neck, looking for a pulse.

“I got a pulse” JJ lets out a sigh of relief. “It's faint, but it's there” She smiles weakly up at the guys. Spotting Morgan speaking into his comms as Rossi bends down, pulling out his knife, cutting you free from the restrance.

“Their strong” Rossi smiles at JJ softly, as they both help pull you into a sitting position. Morgan grabs a rag he's found on the workshelf, handing it to JJ, who presses it on your head wound. Earning a low groan from you, your eyes trying to open, all you can do is get a glimpse of someone in front of you. Your mind starts rushing, no no you can’t deal with him again you can’t handle more pain.

“N n no” Your words are barely audible, you try pulling away from JJ touch.

“Hey, hey it's okay it's us” JJ speaks softly, trying to grab you again, a cry escapes you, which causes you more pain. You are trying harder to get away, not understanding who's talking to you.

“Hey, (Y/n) stop stop, it's okay it's us kid” Daves voice cuts through the room loudly, grabbing your face with both his hands, holding you still. His touch is gentle but firm, his thumb sliding over your cheek.

“Kiddo, it's us, you're safe now” His words soften, the room goes quiet, except for the sirens that are approaching. You look up at him, your body shaking violently.

“D dave” You cough his name out, leaning back into the soft warm wall behind you. A wall that has arms apparently, because it's back to putting pressure on your head.

“Don’t speak (Y/n) we got you now” He takes his hand of you causing you to whine, lifting up your hand, trying to reach for him. He smiles sadly, taking your hand in his, holding it tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here” He kisses your hand softly. He stays true to his words, never leaving your side all the way to the hospital he holds your hand the whole way there, even after you black out again.

~~~

Oh gosh, the light is so bright it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the brightness in the room. When it does that's when everything else starts connecting in your mind. Your body feels more comfortable than it did before, you're no longer on that chair, tied up in a dark room. Smiling softly as you look around, recognizing the look of a hospital room. Looking down at your arms you see your arms all bandaged up, noticing your hooked up to a few different I.V lines. Your body relaxes a little knowing you're safe now, but you can’t help but feel lonely, looking around the room wishing your team was here. I mean that's why you're here right?

“You're awake” His voice is light and hopeful. His smile takes over half his face as he walks in. Your eyes shoot over to the doorway, smiling weakly as you see your boss walk in.

“Aaron” Your voice is scratchy. The burning feeling from early returns as you try to speak.

“You don’t need to speak, the doctor said it could take a week for your throat to heal properly, so for now you need to take it easy” He explains softly, coming to sit beside you, earning a disappointed nod from you.

“The team wanted to wait for you to wake up but I sent them all back to the hotel last night, Dave stayed with you until morning, I sent him back an hour ago” He explains to you, watching you closely.

“W what happened?” You wince lightly, pointing to your throat. Slowly pulling yourself up to a sitting position.

“He poured sulfuric acid down your throat, it was diluted so it didn’t cause major damage” Hotch explains gently, staring at you sympathetically. You have to move your head away from him, unable to deal with that look anymore.

“Thank you” You whisper, you're not even sure if he can hear you.

“You don’t need to thank us, look please you can’t talk anymore but once you do, I need to know what happened okay?” The softness to his voice cuts deeply into your chest, you always saw Aaron as a father figure, him and Dave. Ever since you joined the team they took you under their wing, making sure you understood what you were getting yourself into, looking after you after hard cases. Normally you can control your emotions, but the way he was looking at you, the way he was speaking is enough for you to break. You suddenly burst into tears, your body being rocking forward as you sob quietly, unable to make noise. Hotch is up in an instant, sitting on the edge of your bed pulling you into his arms. His arms wrap around you securely, one rubbing your back softly.

“It's okay, I’ve got you (Y/n/n)” He whispers words of sweetness as he lets you cry in his arms, holding you for as long as you need.

~~~

The morning is filled with doctors checking on you, taking you for scans or tests. You hate being away from your team, hate being alone in rooms, your eyes beg Aaron to go with you, but they don’t allow him into the small rooms. Your anxiety is spiking all morning, soon they allow you to go back to your room, where Hotch is waiting for you, texting on his phone when your bed is wheeled in.

“So, how are you doing?” Hotch asks when you two are alone again.

“A couple broken ribs, my throat hurts, but I’m fine, and I can go home tomorrow” You smile weakly at him, leaning back in the bed, feeling exhausted.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, the team was thinking of coming to see you but I can tell them no” He stares at you, not wanting to push you, he knows you need to rest. But the smile that breaks over your face at the mention of the team, makes him know that resting will have to wait.

“No I wanna see them” You grin at him, knowing that right now you can get almost anything you want.

“Alright, I’ll let them know” He smiles, sending a text.

“Did you get him?” Your voice is so quiet, your eyes as wide as a tennis ball while you stare at the wall opposite you. He looks up at you, wondering how long you have been wanting to ask him that, fearing for the answer he could give you.

“He left you in the cabin, he drove past us when we were on our way to you, we silt up, Me Emily and Reid tracked him down, the situation escalated after we got to him and he got shot, he didn’t make it” Aaron tells you, his voice staying at a neutral tone, not sure how you’re going to take it.

“Good” Is all that you say, your expression staying empty. Rolling onto your side away from him as you wait for the team to turn up, accidentally falling asleep.

~~~

“Well look who's awake” Derek's voice makes you look up. You and Hotch are playing cards, after waking from your nap he informed you that the team was going to come over just tonight, giving you afternoon to sleep. Which you do, and now after growing bored you’re playing cards with Aaron, waiting for the arrival of your team.

Your head shoots up at Morgan's voice, grinning at him and the others who all trail in, looking at you surprised to see how much better you already look.

“What, I like to sleep” You tease him back, your voice still raw and scratchy.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asks, making her way over. She's the first to give you a hug, cupping your face looking you over.

“JJ, Im fine now, It will all heal” You smile gently, trying to reassure her before moving from her grip.

“Fine, are you in pain?” She requires the memories of finding you half dead on the floor forever carved in her mind.

“I’m on so many meds right now, I can’t feel anything” You smile weakly, your throat starting to burn again.

“Relax mama bear, they're fine” Derek pats JJ on the shoulder, leaving his hand there. Pulling her away from you, giving you space

“You know you shouldn’t speak too much (Y/n) it's only going to irritate your throat” Spencer informs you, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes full of worry.

“Noted” Smirking softly as you lay your head back, looking around at your team. If it wasn’t for them you wouldn't be lying here right now. “Thank you, all of you I–” Your words trail off, not knowing how to phrase how gracefully you are for them.

“You never have to thank us” Emily smiles softly down at you, standing close to you her hand runs through your hair gently. A normal shower of affection that she regularly does with you and Reid, only this time you flinch. Everyone notices it, but they don’t bring it up. They already knew you were going to have some trauma to work through. Emily removes her hand slowly, her eyes flicking over to Morgan feeling guilty.

~~~

The team sticks around for an hour, they talk and laugh with you for a while, even though you don’t respond offended, trying your best to look after your throat. The team only leaves after the doctor asks to check over your wounds in private. Informing them that you will be able to get discharged in the morning. Once the doctor leaves you alone, fear and anxiety start spreading throughout you again. You know it's impossible for him to come back and hurt you, but that doesn't mean your mind is ready to accept that. You turn the tv on, watching some drama tv show, your mind unable to pay attention to it, but the background sound is nice.

“Oooh what are we watching?” Dave's cherry voice breaks you out of your mind, your eyes flick over to the doorway watching him walk in holding a couple bags. Setting them down before he takes a seat beside you, pretending to watch the tv and not notice the small smile playing on your lips at the sight of his present.

“some type of drama tv show” You shrug, looking back at the T.V.

“Wait, hang on, have you never seen this before?” Dave gasps, staring at you. You nod in response confused to his reaction.

“You have never seen the office before, well that is differently changing, Office marathon at my mansion one night” His grin makes you laugh weakly, his eyes narrow at you, giving you a stern look.

“No nosies, you need to rest your throat, also I got you something for that” He leans forward grabbing one of the bags. You frown at him, wondering what he may have, a grin breaking out as you see him pull out your favourite ice cream tub. He passes it to you with a spoon, a small smile on his lips as he does.

“Thanks” You whisper lightly, smirking at him, having to hold back a laugh when he rolls his eyes at you.

~~~

You two sat in silence for over an hour, eating the ice cream and enjoying the T.v show. It's getting late, and you're forcing your eyes to stay open not wanting to sleep just yet. Dave had noticed that you have been fighting sleep for the past ten minutes, jumping every time your eyes close.

“(Y/n), you need to try and get some sleep” Dave sighs softly, not missing the way your eyes are watering.

“I can’t” Your voice shakes, doing your best to try and stop it.

“I can go and get a nurse to see if they can give you something?” Dave watches the way your body tenses up at the suggestion, just knowing that tonight is going to be a long one.

“No, no more drugs”

“Okay, then what can I do?” Rossi almost begs you to let him help you, just wanting you to get some rest.

“I…” You know what could help but you can’t ask him, he is practically your second boss. Just because you see him like a father figure doesn’t mean he does.

“Nothing” Is all you say instead.

“(Y/n), please what do you need?” He takes your hand that's shaking lightly.

“H hug?” Gulping thickly as you glance over at him, seeing the worry melt off his face.

“Now that, I can do” He smiles softly, getting up. “Move over” He sits down beside you waiting for you to scooch over. You smile weakly scooching over enough for him to lay down, wrapping his arm around you pulling you into him.

“Thank you” You snuggle into him, closing your eyes.

“Anytime kiddo, get some rest” His whisper is full of love, his arm wrapped around you securely as you allow yourself to close your eyes and fall into the darkness.

~~~

The flight home is long and quiet. You were given the couch to rest on it, which you happily took. Snuggling down in your blanket, staring at the ceiling the whole time, feeling lost inside your own mind. The only time you really move is when it's time to take more meds or you need to hydrate. The team sat at the back of the jet, trying to give you privacy, but also so they could share their worries about you without being overheard. Hotch and Rossi had already spoken about you, knowing the next stage of this is going to be hard for you. Especially when it comes to needing to know who Hector was to you, having to ask what he exactly did to you.

The flight is now half way over, when you finally fall asleep. The team smiles over at you, happy you're finally resting. Sadly it doesn't last longer, when you're suddenly interrupting everyone with a scream. Rossi and Hotch are up in seconds, both rushing to your side leaving the team to watch in worry. You're thrashing around on the couch, tears and whimpers escaping you. Fear covering your face, your heart racing with panic.

“(Y/n), wake up your safe” Rossi kneels in front of you, hands cupping your face. Trying to get you to stop moving before you injure yourself. Hotch moves to grab your arms, scared you're going to rip some of your stitches open, holding them firmly as he hopes Rossi can wake you up.

“(Y/n), open your eyes for me kiddo” Rossi shakes your face lightly, your eyes soon flutter open your lips twitching as you try to calm down.

“Your okay Ragazzion, you're okay” Rossi lets go of your face, same time Hotch lets you go.

“I.. sorry” You utter out, trying hard to control the tears. Pulling yourself into a sitting position in the middle of the couch.

“It's okay, how are you doing?” Hotch asks, his voice laced with concern as he and Rossi both take a seat on either side of you.

“I don’t know” You look at him feeling hopeless, the tears starting to dry on your face.

“That's okay, do you need anything?” Hotch smiles softly at you, placing his hand gently on your knee, you jump slightly before nodding.

“Water, please?” You lean into Rossi when his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in close.

“You got it,” Aaron smiles before getting up to get some water.

You can’t help but lean into Rossi's touch, now that with him, you're always going to be safe. Your head rests on his shoulder, not caring that the rest of the team is watching you, concerned running through them. You're not a hugger, you barely like touching, some say you're even worse than Reid. But here you are, snuggled up to Rossi refusing to let him go even when Hotch brings over the water. Rossi has to pull you away from him so you would drink, nodding as you follow their instruction. The team stares at you worried about how badly the unsub has messed you up, when you're asking Hotch to join you on the couch, and suddenly you're snuggled up between the two bosses of the BAU. The remaining three hours of the flight, you refuse to move from either of them constantly needing physical contact from them.

~~~

The elevator ride up to your office floor is peaceful. You stand in the back, still holding on to Rossi's hand, refusing to even let go after leaving the jet. Rossi doesn’t mind it, he's always happy to hold you close. He's always seen you as one of his kids ever since you joined the team 2 years ago. You were one of the youngest agents he had met, you were barely 23 when you joined. When the elevator doors open, the team slowly make their way out, you're the last to walk out with Rossi. Garica stands by the glass doors, smiling with relief as she sees you. You can’t help yourself, you pull away from Rossi, and make your way quickly towards the woman who constantly produces happiness. Flinging your arms around her, she's quick to respond, hugging you back tightly, no words exchanged. The team all walks past you giving you space.

“Thank you” You smile weakly as you pull away from her, both of you having tears sliding down your face.

“Never have to thank me, never have to thank any of us” She smiles softly, looping her arm with you, leading you into the bullpen. “We never want to lose you, do you understand, you are a part of our family, we will always be there when you need us” She smiles at you, watching as the wheels turn in your eyes.

“I know, I just.. I was scared, there's things you don’t know” You words seem to fail you but she gives you a reassuring look.

“That's okay, all in your own time” Garcia walks you to your desk, helping you pack up some folders, everyone knows you're taking a few weeks off due to doctor's orders.

“I’ll give you a ride home, by the way (Y/n)” Morgan walks over to you two, grabbing your bag.

“Morgan I can drive myself”

“No you can’t” Was the response of Penelope and Reid

“Oh hell no!” Came JJ and Emily's answer, all looking at you with overprotective looks.

“Guys I’m fine” You sigh, knowing it's useless.

“No you're not, but Morgan it's okay I’ll take them home” Hotch speaks up as he and Rossi make their way down the stairs and over to you.

“I don’t get a choice do I?”

“No”

“Nope”

~~~

Hotch helps you in his car, against your protest. Once you two are finally on the way out of Quantico, that's when you know the question will begin.

“So me and Dave were talking” He starts, his eyes staying focused on the road. “We don’t like the idea of you staying alone”

“Hotch, I’ll be fine” You know that's a lie, truthly you're dreading going home alone.

“(Y/n) please, we all know you're not okay, I don’t want you to be alone, because If you are it's going to drive me crazy” He sighs, glancing over at you, watching as your face falls.

“I don’t want anyone to worry about me” You stare out the window, trying to empty your mind.

“I know, but we will anyway, because we care about you, I know I shouldn’t but I see you like my kid (Y/n), please just let us help you” His voice is so close to begging you to agree with him.

“You have Jack, I can’t stay with you” Your hands start to fidget, hate to be a burden.

“He’s not home tonight he's with Jess, so stay with me tonight and that gives Rossi time to set up a spare room for you, you can stay with him or me as long as you need” Hotch looks at you, seeing as you think over his question.

“Okay” You finally agree, the idea of being alone eating away at you. “But only for a little while”

“Thank you” Aaron smiles, driving to his place.

Three weeks later.

You still suffer with nightmares, still unfit to return back to work for now. For the last two weeks you have been staying at Rossi places, which has been nice, even when he's been away on cases. The fact his place has a lot of cameras and security makes you feel safe. You’ve been going to therapy two times a week, doing everything you can so you can start feeling like yourself again. It was last week when you went into the office and finally told Hotch and Rossi the truth of who Hector was to you, doing your best to not break down as you did so. Hotch and Rossi have become your main support in the past few weeks, making sure you had everything you needed to feel okay. Hotch would come visit you most days he was in town, bring Jack over to have dinner with you and Dave. Their actions constantly reminding you how important you are to them, how no matter what, they will always be there for you.

One night, you're sitting in Rossi's living room not expecting him to come home. You're playing the guitar you had picked up from home, strumming it slowly. You've had it in your room for the last week but every time you picked it up the memories would come rushing back, but not today. Today when you picked it up sitting on the couch, it just felt normal. You take a deep breath closing your eyes as you slowly start singing, enjoying the way it feels to relax and play again. This is something you used to do everyday and now, it's been three weeks. You promised yourself that no one would take your passion away from you, so there's no way you're going to let him take that from you, no one gets to do that. Soon the song comes to an end, smiling softly as the music comes to a stop opening your eyes slowly.

“Now that was beautiful”

You don't mean to jump, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be home until later tonight. Turning around, you see Rossi walk in from behind, smiling softly.

“I didn’t know you were listening” Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassed.

“I know, I didn’t want to interrupt, but you have such a talent” Dave comments, walking over taking a seat beside you.

“Thank you” Smilingly softly looking down, falling silent.

“A penny for your thoughts” Dave asks, frowning slightly at you.

“I miss performing” Sighing softly, placing the guitar on your lap.

“Why did you stop?”

“It didn’t fit in with my schedule anymore”

“Well, If I’m right you do have some time now, and I know we aren’t in town most weekends, but you can still try every now and again” Dave suggest, smiling lightly. Knowing that he and the team would love to hear you perform again.

“I could but I.. it feels weird after what happened last time, I feel like I shouldn’t do that again” You admit your fear, feeling shamefully about it.

“That's understandable, but that won’t happen again, and me and the team will be right there for you” Dave looks at you encouragingly.

“I know” You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted from overthinking.

“Is something else going on in there?” Rossi wraps his arms around you.

“Maybe” Sighing softly, closing your eyes. “I think it's time I go home”

“You don’t have to kiddo, you can stay here as long as you need, you know that” Rossi reminds you.

“I know, but I’m not going to be able to move on with my life If I stay here” You explain, feeling sad at the idea of leaving.

“Well, why don’t I help you set up a camera at your place and we can put in a better security system as well” Rossi offers, wanting you to be safe if you're leaving.

“I like that idea, thank you” You smile weakly.

“Perfect, we can do it this weekend, If I don’t get called away” Rossi kisses your forehead softly.

~~~

It's Friday night, and Rossi has invited the team out for drinks. When they all arrive they aren’t expecting you to be waiting at the table for them already, they have barely seen you in the past few weeks.

“(Y/n)” Garcia squeals out, unlooping her arm with Morgan as she runs over to you, encasing you in a giant hug that you happily return.

“Hey you” Smiling brightly, feeling her happiness bounce off her. Letting her go as you hug the rest of the team, (Excluding Hotch and Rossi who you see regular)

“I thought I would surprise you all” Smiling softly as you all sit down, letting Hotch and Rossi get everyone's drinks.

“Please tell me you're coming back soon, I've missed you” JJ sighs, smiling at you hopeful.

“What JJ, we aren’t good enough for you” Morgan teases her.

“Please tell me it's soon, because I can’t deal with Morgan without you much longer” JJ groans, as the rest of the team laughs at Morgan's offended face.

“Well It should be Monday if Hotch approves” You smile at them, forgetting how much you missed your little family.

“Oh he better approve” Emily smiles, noticing how much better you seem to be now.

“He does,” Aaron smiles, approaching the group from behind, carrying some drinks, hanging them out.

“Thank you” You grin at him as the group cheers, Garcia wrapping her arm around your shoulders excitedly.

~~~

The rest of the night is full of laughter and catching up with everyone. There's a stage at the bar and people are going up, singing and playing music. The team watches a few acts but soon it fades into background noise as they all catch up. That is until you disappear to the bathroom, and when you return back you see the stage empty, the guitar sat there just begging for someone to play it. The opportunity staring you in the face, you glance over at your family smiling softly knowing they will always be your biggest support, so you head on up.

“Hey guys, hope you don’t mind me giving this ago” You smile speaking into the microphone, picking up the guitar. Some people turn to look at you smiling, your whole team turns to face the stage, surprised to hear your voice echoing through the bar. Smiles and grins break out as they realise what you're doing, a few cheers come from Morgan and Garcia, earning a soft laugh from you as you strumming the guitar softly. The bar grows quite as the guitar fills the place, taking a deep breath as you start to sing.

Don't listen to the voice inside your head

You're doing just fine

You're trying your best

If no one ever told you it's all gonna be okay

We're just people never sleeping over stupid shit

We won't remember in the morning

Yeah, we're gonna forget

And no one ever told you it's all gonna be okay

You sing softly, enjoying the way it feels falling into the vibes. Staring out at the crowds seeing them looking up at you, but your eyes only stay on your team. Seeing their smiles full of love and proud as they all watch you. You can’t help but sway as you play the guitar, finally feeling like yourself, and it's all thanks to your team. You know no matter what happens they will always have your back, and nothing will ever pull you away from them.

~~~

#criminal minds #criminal minds one shot #aaron hotchner x gn reader #david rossi x gn reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #bau team x gn reader #bau team x gender netural reader

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alyswritings · 2 years

Note

Hello.:) can i have a request with JJ maybank and sister(maybe 5 or6) reader where she asking him that why they never see their dad & why is JJ with her all the time. Thank you!

"JJ, I have a question." Y/N says, walking up to where he's waxing his surfboard.

"What?" He asks, sparing a glance at her, but keeping his focus on his board.

"Why aren't we ever with daddy?" She asks making JJ freeze.

"Why, uh... why do you ask?" JJ asks.

"Well... most of the other kids have daddies who are there. Others don't know where theirs are and two kids say their daddies or in Heaven. One kid says his daddy's in Hell. And most of them have, uh... um... stepfathers. But I know where my daddy is and we never see him. Why?"

"Why are you asking this all of a sudden?" JJ asks.

"I wanna know." Y/N says.

"Look..." JJ heavily sighs as he crouches in front of her. He pulls her closer and tucks a stray hair that escaped from her pigtail behind her ear. "Our dad isn't the best person."

"Why not?" Y/N asks, a confused frown on her face.

"Well, he--" JJ stops, trying to think of talk to her about this, not wanting to explain abuse to his five year old sister. Luke's never touched her and she's never seen JJ get hit. Whenever she questions his bruises, he always blames it on clumsiness or a fight with a kook.

"He... he's mean. He says things and does things that can hurt you." JJ says.

"Like what?" Y/N asks.

"Like... he just says really mean things that aren't true. And he throws things sometimes. It's really scary to be around and it's bad. Nobody should be like that. So that's why we live with John B." JJ explains.

"Is that why you're with me all the time?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I like making sure you're safe. It's why you don't have unsupervised playdates or ever go to dad's house. We are both much safer here." JJ tells her.

"Right. Will he ever stop being mean?" Y/N asks.

"It doesn't seem to be going that way." JJ weakly smiles.

"Well, I... I was mostly asking to know, but... but, um... there's this daddy/daughter dance thing this weekend and... and the other kids -- who have daddies, anyway -- were all excited and I... I felt kind of left out." She tells him, looking down and messing with her fingers.

"Oh." JJ mumbles. He frowns, knowing how much it sucks to be the one without any parent for those kinds of things. "Well, um... you want me to go with you? I know I'm not technically your dad, but I do all the dad things. You know? I know it isn't not really the same, but it's something, hm?"

"You do dad things?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know, I take care of you. I taught you how to swim, I make sure you're getting whatever food you can. I was probably more excited than you when you lost your first tooth." He chuckles. "When you're ready I'll teach you how to ride a bike and all that other fun stuff. You're not dating until you're 30. That's all dad stuff. All the things our actual dad should be here for, but isn't, so I do it." He says making her quietly giggle.

"So... can I do you the honor of taking you to this daddy-daughter dance?" JJ asks. Y/N grins and nods. She hugs him and JJ hugs her back.

"I love you." Y/N tells him.

"I love you, too, kiddo." JJ says, kissing the side of her head.

#jj maybank #jj maybank drabble #jj mabank blurb

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cleoluvrr · 2 years

Text

The Last Days of Summer VI (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, gaslighting + manipulation

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 4.8k+

↠━ღ◆ღ━↞

Rafe ditched me sometime that night, leaving the party to run off with Kelce and Topper.

I didn’t complain, actually very relieved that I didn’t have to pretend in front of his family, nor keep my head on a swivel to make sure he didn’t catch me alone again. Londyn and I left eventually as well, opting to go back to her house for the night. We were beat, the long day leaving us essentially useless. We fell asleep almost immediately after arriving, barely staying awake long enough to get ready for bed.

His sudden confession filled my mind for the rest of the night, brain struggling to understand where any of it came from. How did he know all of those things about me? Why did he wait so long to say anything? Why did he think I would suddenly fall into his arms and accept his so gracefully?

I left early the next morning, my father calling me home as some sort of punishment for my brother running off last night. I didn’t argue with him, bidding my farewells to the Woods’ before getting in the car Londyn’s mom ordered for me.

I didn’t get a moment to myself when I stepped foot into the shop. My father immediately sent me to work, ordering me to deliver groceries to people in town. I rode around Kildare on my dad’s boat with everyone’s orders, the deliveries were seemingly endless. Eventually I arrive at Kie’s parent’s restaurant, The Wreck.

I hop out of the boat with groceries in hand, dragging my feet towards the entrance. I enter the shop, tempted to just leave the groceries by the door and leave, and spot my brother and his friends gathered at a table nearby.

“And where the hell did you go last night?” I say, grabbing everyone’s attention. “I had to face the wrath of our dear father this morning, no thanks to you.” I cut my eyes at JJ as well, who sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, Riah.” Pope rolls his eyes at me. “You went to that thing with Rafe Cameron. If anything I should be the pissed one here. Matter of fact, I think I am.”

“I’m so sorry that you have no idea how to fight back against some bullies, and your sister had to step in to save your weak behind. Twice.” I set the groceries down on the counter before walking over to the table, crossing my arms across my chest as I stand in front of my body.

“I didn’t ask your dumb ass to do that. Now we’re both in deep shit.” He says. I scoff.

“I’m sorry that I risked everything I’ve worked for to defend your honor.” I continued. “I had absolutely no idea that almost sacrificing my scholarship and risking jail time was not worth defending your ungrateful ass. I’m sorry that you have a poor choice in friends that just can’t seem to stop committing crimes.”

“Don’t talk about them like they’re not there.” Pope says, actually looking up at me now. He looks more than a little irritated, his jaw clenching as he speaks. “Do you think you’re better than me because you hang out with Kooks?”

“No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” I laugh dryly. “I just think you’re an idiot because you destroyed a thirty-thousand-dollar piece of property, no thanks to JJ once again, had some white boys posted outside of our house trying to intimidate us, and almost got arrested. You’re lucky JJ is a good friend or else your ass would be fried.”

“Thanks?” JJ says, not sure if I was giving him a compliment or insulting him.

“Didn’t you beat Rafe Cameron with a golf club? How is that any better than what I did?” He stands up, getting in my face.

“Because I’m not the one running around Kildare getting into bullshit everyday! That’s you!” I shout, shoving at his chest. Kiara moves to get in between us, but Pope doesn’t move. He just stares back at me just as angrily as I do him.

“Okay, I think you need to chill.” John B says to me.

“Shut up, John B.” Pope and I say in unison. The boy raises his hands in defense.

“Clearly none of you are talking sense into him, so I guess I have to.” I look around at the rest of the group, all of them avoiding eye contact with me.

“I make my own decisions, Neriah.” Pope mumbles, sitting back down in his chair.

“Well they aren’t smart ones.” I knock Kie’s hand off my shoulder. “There are people that care about you, Pope. More than the people in this room and you seem to forget that. Or maybe you just don’t give a damn.”

With that I walk away, making my way towards the door. The restaurant is silent for a moment, everyone taking in what I just said.

“We care about him just as much as you do.” JJ says, briskly walking up to me before I can get to the door. I chuckle humorlessly, giving the blonde a tight-lipped smile.

“Then act like it.” I say, pushing the heavy door open. His eyes shift down to my neck, widening slightly as they catch mine again.

“What happened to your neck?” He inquires, voice low enough for only me to hear. He reaches up to touch it but I push his hand away, zipping up my jacket all the way and ignoring his concerned eyes.

“See you at home. Or not.” I give my brother a final glance before turning away.

With that, I exit the shop and go back to our dad’s boat. I drive down the marsh, not looking back at the building despite feeling all of their eyes on me.

Pope never came home that night.

My parents waited for him for a while, but they went to bed sometime after one in the morning. I went to bed as well, knowing better than to expect anything different from my brother. He still wasn’t there in the morning when I woke up, the sun high in the sky and no Pope in sight.

Londyn and I decided to waste the day together, meeting Brye on the way. The two of them could sense my poor mood the minute they set eyes on me. The entire time they tried to cheer me up. After an hour of gossip and cracking bad jokes I’d finally had enough.

“You guys know better than to think telling terrible jokes is going to make me feel any better.” I finally speak after spending the past hour moping to myself in silence.

“We knew that at some point you’d get annoyed enough to finally say something. Which you did!” Brye says, nudging me obnoxiously. I roll my eyes, standing up from my seat.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” I mumble as I walk away.

I wash my hands in the bathroom, watching myself in the mirror above the sink. The bruise on my neck has only gotten worse, the dark purple splotches peeking out of the top of my shirt. I’m visibly tense, my eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched unconsciously. My teeth have started to ache from the unintentional grinding.

I shut off the water, gripping the sides of the sink as I take a deep breath.

My brother and I each have our own lives. Very opposite lives. He would never do the things I do and I would never do the things I do. He’d sooner walk barefoot across broken glass before hanging out on Figure 8 willingly to be quite frank, which I understand. But sometimes I wish he would be more responsible. He actually has a future off of this island, but he never thinks of how easily that opportunity could be lost.

I have nothing again against his friends. I think Kie so desperately wants to defy her parents in any way she can, John B has a lack of true authority figures to guide him, and JJ is a klepto with a penchant for violence and alcohol. But that doesn’t make them bad people. They’re always there for my brother, they’d do anything for them, and I could ask for nothing more.

Except for them to make sure he doesn’t do the same stupid shit they do.

I sigh deeply, stepping out of the bathroom after drying my hands. I keep my head down as I walk, mind busy with things I need to say to Pope the next time I see him. I almost don’t hear the person calling for my attention.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, girl!” An older white woman dressed rather tackily calls out. I look around, wondering who she’s speaking to and furrow my eyebrows in confusion when she waves me over. “God, are you people deaf or something?” She says annoyedly, looking me up and down.

“Excuse me?” I ask, puzzled.

“Refill my drink. And make sure it’s light ice this time.” She shoves her empty glass towards me. When I don’t take it she looks at me expectantly. “Hello? Can you hear me? I said to get me a drink.”

“I don’t work here.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” She looks me up and down in disgust. “I didn’t know they let your kind of people into the club.” The other women she’s seated with giggle, each of them picking me apart with their eyes.

“What do you mean by that?” Feeling quite offended, I scrunch my face up at her. “Actually, I don’t care.”

“Did you sneak in here? Do I need to call security?” She says, smirking as she prepares to wave the guard over.

“She’s with me.” A familiar voice sounds out, footsteps approaching behind me. “Is there a problem, Carolyn?”

“Oh!” She says, dropping her hand back into her lap with a nervous smile. “Of course not. I just-”

“You ladies have a good day.” The voice says before placing a warm hand on my back and leading me away.

As soon as we’re out of the women’s line of vision I shove the hand off me, backing away quickly. I shiver at the way Rafe looks at me, the view of him genuinely smiling at me making me feel uneasy. It seems like I run into him more and more as the days go by.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“You're welcome.”

“I didn’t need your help.” I cross my arms, pushing past him to go meet my friends again.

“It looked like you were about to be removed from the property to me.” Rafe says condescendingly.

“Maybe all the coke is affecting your vision too.” Before I can make it very far, the Cameron son grabs my bicep and pulls me back to him. I try to snatch my arm away, but he doesn’t loosen up. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y’know, you really should be more grateful.” He looks down at me, still holding my arm in his grip. “You would be in a very bad position without me.” I scoff.

“I’m already in a bad position.” Roughly pulling myself away from him, I squint my eyes at him. “Leave me the hell alone, Rafe. I’ve already done what you wanted, and whatever you want to happen between us is not happening.”

“I don’t know…” He hums, tilting his head. “My side hurts a bit. My leg too. Maybe you can kiss it better for me?” He walks towards me, pretending to limp. I shove him away from me and he laughs.

“Fuck off, Rafe. I’m not in the mood for you today.” His laughter dies down slowly, eyes falling below my jawline. The feeling of his heated stare on me all of sudden has me shifting from foot to foot nervously.

“Did I do that to you?” He asks, eyes still fixed on the large, finger shaped splotches of purple decorating my neck. I pull up the collar of my shirt in an attempt to cover my exposed skin. “Don’t cover it. I want to look.”

“Rafe. Do not piss me off right now.”

“I’m being serious.” He steps forward, reaching to lower my hand. “They look pretty on you.” I scoff, swiping his outreached hand away.

“You’re a dick.” I say as I storm away from him, hearing his laughter and feeling his gaze on my back as I retreat.

I make it to my friends after a short walk, ignoring their questions about what took me so long. We sat in the sun for a bit longer, drinking lemonade and talking about how sad we are about the summer coming to an end soon.

I watch Rafe in the distance, talking with Topper and Kelce. Topper looks quite distressed, arguing with his two friends for a moment while they try to calm him down. I haven’t seen him with Sarah since Midsummers, and even then they looked a bit distant. At least Sarah did. I wonder if that’s what has him so upset.

“Rafe Cameron!” A voice calls out.

We all snap our head in the direction of the sound. I spot a shorter man get out of a car and walk towards the gate very menacingly. I watch as Rafe and Topper approach him, the younger confused as the man confronts Rafe very aggressively.

“Who did he piss off this time?” Brye asks, watching the ordeal disinterestedly.

“Who hasn’t he pissed off?” Londyn adds, causing me to throw my head back in laughter.

“Am I just some little bitch?” The shorter man asks rather loudly. “Is that what your family looks at me like?”

Rafe tries to calm him down, looking around at the crowd that’s started to gather. He looks just as confused as the rest of us, as if he has no idea why the man he seems to be quite familiar with has shown up to confront him.

“Okay, so why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends running around stealing $25k out of my house?”

Sarah? Surf rat friends? Stealing?

Sarah Cameron wouldn’t pick a penny off the ground for good luck, what the hell does he mean she stole twenty-five-thousand dollars from him? Sarah Cameron has more money than anyone on this island. And what Pogues are running around with the Kook princess? The only Pogues Sarah has ever spoken to willingly are me and John B.

John B. Surf rat friends. Pogues. John B. Sarah. John B.

Shit.

The confrontation turns violent when Rafe puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. The man shoves him roughly, yelling something that I can’t make out. Topper steps in and breaks up the altercation, separating the two.

“Sort this shit out with your sister.” The brunette man says.

“Alright!” Rafe says panickedly.

“Imma get my money. If it’s not from you, it’s from her.” The man backs off, walking towards his car. “Remember that. I’ll see you boys around.”

Rafe and Topper talk for a minute, the two of them looking equally as stressed out. Everyone else has stopped watching, including my friends who have gone back to their previous conversation, but I keep my eyes on the two. Eventually the boys get on their bikes, pulling off quickly as their engines rev all the way down the street.

How deep are Pope Heyward and his friends?

“You stole twenty-five-thousand dollars from a drug dealer…and spent it all on a hot tub?” I yell angrily. “Have you lost your minds?”

“To be fair, it’s a nice hot tub.” JJ says. I look at him incredulously.

I came to JJ’s house the next day to find my brother and confront him about the things I overheard the day before. I nearly passed out when I saw the large jacuzzi sitting in JJ’s front yard, knowing that only he’d be irresponsible enough to buy something like that with stolen drug money.

“How did you even find out?” Pope asks.

“He was yelling at Rafe about how his baby sister was running around with some Pogues robbing people.” Pope looks even more confused, jumping out of his chair before coming up to me in the middle of the yard.

“You were hanging out with Rafe Cameron?” I scoff in disbelief at his audacity to be upset with me.

“No, I wasn’t hanging out with him, and even if I was, that’s not the point.” I push past him to go stand on JJ’s porch next to Kiara. She looks at me sheepishly and scratches her head. “There is a man out there, multiple men, that want your heads.”

“Neriah, don’t worry. We got this.” JJ says walking up to me. He tries setting a comforting hand on my shoulder but freezes midair when I give him a deathly look. He backs off with his hands raised, going back to what he was doing before.

I spent a while at his house, stressfully thinking about the trouble my brother can’t seem to stay out of. The rest of them return to whatever it was they were doing before I arrived. I watch as Pope lifts Kie into a tree with a large bucket, and JJ sits in the hot tub under the shade of the tree. I have multiple missed calls from Rafe, surely about my brother and his friends running around with Sarah.

I’m so deep in my thoughts that I almost don’t notice John B. The boy speeds past me into JJ’s house, the rest of the group following after him. I don’t go in, letting them handle whatever his problem is on his own.

I hear stuff clattering around and muffled voices through the door, but I pay it no mind.

“John B, what do you need the gun for?” I hear JJ raise his voice. I stand up immediately, entering the house.

I briefly see the brunette push my brother into the table, walking so fast out the door that I almost miss him. I follow everyone out the house, watching as they chase him down. He speeds off on his bike, disappearing down the dirt road. I don’t ask them what’s going on, this being something that must be deeply personal.

I leave shortly after that, the atmosphere far too tense for me to feel comfortable there.

I return home, locking myself up in my room for the rest of the day. I only come out to shower and grab food, leaving my parents to wallow in their misery alone. Pope hadn’t been home in three days, and while I’m used to it, I don’t think my parents ever stop worrying. I hope he’s smart enough to come home tonight considering he has a once in a lifetime scholarship interview in five hours.

My hopes come true when I hear the front door open.

“You waited up.” Pope says to my father. The man had been sleeping in the living room since the night his son left, waiting for his return.

“You left?” Heyward asks. “Because I hadn’t noticed.”

The air is silent for a moment, tension replacing the sound of voices. I turn over in bed, slipping on my earbuds to drown out the sound of a lecture. I watch my bedroom door open slowly after a few minutes, behind it a tired looking Pope.

We look at each other for a moment, neither of us saying a word. He looks down at the floor before backing out of my room and closing the door behind him.

“Goodnight.” I whisper into the darkness of my room.

My dad and brother leave together early in the morning, away to Pope’s interview before I’m awake to see them off. Our dad wouldn’t be back until later, saying that he had to handle some business at the airstrip for the Cameron’s.

Pope didn’t come back that night either.

I spent half of the next day roaming around the south side, something I hadn’t done in a while. It was very comforting to know that I wasn’t an outlier here. Nobody thought less of me because of how much money I did or didn’t have, I was just another person here.

It also distracted me from my parents slowly going insane from Pope’s blatant disrespect and irresponsibility.

The house felt stuffier than the sticky, summer air outside sometimes, the wedge between my brother and our parents growing larger as the days go by.

As I peruse around midtown I people watch, residents running errands and tourists looking around like this is the most interesting place they’ve ever been. I end up near the dock, the ferry bobbing in the water next to the wooden deck. Everyone buzzes around, colorful clothes a blur in front of me as I watch mindlessly.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot a familiar car. I turn towards the car, squinting at the vehicle parked across the street.

My eyes widen when I spot the people inside.

I storm towards the car, everyone inside distracted with a heated conversation.

“Pope. Heyward.” I say when I reach the open driver's side window, my voice dangerously calm.

Everyone’s head snaps towards me as the words leave my mouth. Pope runs his hands over his face, looking even more stressed than he did a moment ago. Everyone looks scared and anxious, tension in the car high.

“Hey, Riah…do you think you can save the lecture for another day?” JJ says, leaning out of his window to speak to me. “We really don’t have time for this.”

“Kiss my ass.” I cut my eyes at JJ wh retreats back into the car.

“Neriah, we really don’t have time. Seriously.” Pope sighs, looking at me irritably.

“Oh, you wanna talk about time? We can talk about time.” I smile at him tensely. “You know what I spent my time doing last night? Convincing our father not to throw your shit out on the street. I should’ve let him do it considering that’s where you’d rather be nowadays.”

“Neriah, please.” Kie says, looking out the window anxiously.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m talking.” I snap.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Pope snaps as well, hitting his hands on the steering wheel. “What is your problem?”

“Not only did you vanish, again, you ran out on a once in a lifetime opportunity. To do what? Hang out in your friend's car smelling like dope?” I ask motioning at the car. “You have officially lost your rabid ass mind.”

Pope snatches a piece of paper out of Kiara’s hand and shoves it at me, the wrinkled paper hitting me in the chest. I snatch it away, smoothing it out before reading it.

My eyes widen, eyes raising to finally see John B hiding in the backseat next to JJ.

“This! This is why I’m with my friends right now!” Pope shouts at me. I stare at the picture of John B’s face and the bounty over his head in shock.

“Not only are you majorly irresponsible, you're harboring a fugitive?” I whisper the last part, not wanting anyone around to hear. “I should turn your ass in. Maybe then my brother will stop roaming the streets like he doesn’t have a home.” I say to John B.

“God, Neriah. You just don’t get it, do you?” My brother’s voice drips in frustration directed at me. I sigh, throwing the paper back into the car.

“No, I get it.” I back away from the car. “I’ll be sure to tell mom you aren’t dead. Now go, before somebody recognizes you. Fucking idiots…” I mumble as I briskly walk away from the car, silently praying that they come up with something.

#rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx imagine #obx1 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #obx2 #outer banks fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks

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thatcanadianfangirl · 2 years

Text

JJ Maybank// Healing Takes Time Pt.2

JJ Maybank X Jade (Booker) Routledge

Plot: When Jade is all alone at the chateau falling asleep on the hottest night of the year she hears a loud noise that makes her skin crawl. She discovers JJ on the sofa after what seems like a run-in with the kooks again. With some reluctance he allows his best friend's Twin to patch him up. Falling apart in her clutch that night she discovers that the clash he experienced earlier was something deeper than just some lousy rich boy. He returns to her every time it occurs, he never talks and always leaves before Jade stirs away. That is until one day he does.

Word Count: 4.7k+

Disclaimer: Brother's bestfriend, slow burn, talks of domestic abuse, and mentions of underage drinking. minor writing errors even though this is edited.

{Part One}

----

The excruciating heat from the summer sun had made sleep too uncomfortable to keep. Sweat began to latch onto every inch of my body like a second skin. I felt drowsy as my mind began pulling to the front again.

The empty space beside me still radiated warmth from the boy who occupied it last night. A strange feeling of lost overwhelmed me at the knowledge of JJ escaping while I was unconscious. But there also was a foreign and very pleasant emotion starting to plant its-self.

What the fuck is happening to me?

With a cat nap stretch I grasps the most ancient iPhone I've laid eyes on, but it was $500 dollars cheaper than a brand new one, I shouldn't be complaining. Three hours before my shift at the Pelican Yacht Club and another hour ahead of my alarm. Unfortunately there's no chance of me passing out again with the temperatures so high today.

With a heavy heart I scoured the house just incase JJ decided to relocate himself. Every room was completely vacant and there was no sign of life anywhere. John B still appeared to on hiatus and the concern began fluttering. That kid better have the decency to send me a text soon.

After a hot shower I still felt mentally exhausted from the night I had with JJ. It shattered my heart to see him that vulnerable, that broken. I want that prick to drown himself six-hundred feet under the sea. Jay wasn't anything close to perfect but he definitely didn't deserve to be beaten by the one person who was suppose to protect him.

I hoped that blonde boy didn't escape back home to that sorry excuse of a man he was forced to call dad. My throat tightened and it was hard to contain the burning tears.

I took my time preparing myself. I wasn't a fan of your every day kook but with the pay my promotion brought just about made up for it.

Capturing my Jeep keys, I made my way out of the Chateau and through the porch. The yard was Pogue-less and the Twinkie was not in her original spot. Where the hell was my brother? Although my day would go a lot more seamless if I knew where he was. I'm still passive-aggressive towards him for leaving me in that damned place alone.

With the spare time and extra cash I had I was able to grab a bite to eat and hit up the gas station. I really needed to get mobile minutes and fill up the Jeep for the rest of the week.

----

I was relived to be sitting at the reception desk in the cool air conditioned building. Watching a few others from the cut maintaining and fuel up various boats out on the docks. A job I had last year and frankly didn't miss for a single second. Taking this job serious was the best decision I've made in my entire life.

Through the glass door I could see a familiar SUV pulling up front. I spotted Kiara, another friend of my twin brother. She rounded the rear and started for the front doors. I consider Kie a friend of mine as well, she often pulled me along with them. Always mentioning how nice it was to have another girl around to balance out that intoxication masculine energy.

"Good evening, Miss Carrera. Is there anything I help you with today?" I announced in my service voice once she walked through the doors. She flashed me a mischievous grin and I swore I could giggle at the sight.

Kiara wore a vibrant and suitable outfit for the hot weather. She always had such a fun style making me yearn for a body I didn't have. I loved my curves but the hope for Kiara donating to my empty closet was almost comparable. It was hard to find cute discounted or thrifted clothing in my size.

"Yes, Miss Routledge I need the Carrera's Princess y72 fueled and prepped for an evening trip to the mainland." She held an elegant tone and straighten her posture as she addressed me.

I forced a laugh down and continued to play along with our ruse. "Not a problem, It'll be ready for 3:00pm. How does that sound?"

"That simply will not do." She shook her head and both of her front braids followed. "Did you not hear me? I said evening trip." I almost chocked sensing how much she struggled to keep the kook behavior.

"My apologies Miss Carrera. How does 5:00pm sound instead." I offered,

"Yes, why couldn't you just get it right the first time?" she pawed the air in displeasure.

It took two seconds before we fell into a fit of laughter so hard it began to hurt. Her dark skin starting to turn pink as she gasped for air and it only made me laugh harder.

The clearing of ones voice had me swallowing down the ounce of happiness I had today. Fear washed over me as I spotted my boss Pike, standing a few feet away. Arms crossed over his lean chest as he analyzed the scene before him.

"Sorry, sir." I croaked.

He approached the reception desk and leaned his body weight against it. With firm green eyes he stared me down. At the tense anticipation I prepared myself for a scolding. A small one, but a scolding nonetheless.

Glancing at Kiara I could have sworn her eyes almost rolled out of their sockets. I opened my mouth to investigate my punishment but nothing came out.

"Loosen up kid." He breaks into humorous smile. "You dedicated so much to this company and as long as you're doing your job I don't care who comes to visit you during your shift." He shrugs nonchalantly.

The sword above my head vanished into thin air and my lungs began filling back up with oxygen again. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that. I was worried you were fed up with me." I say with a smile of appreciation.

"I could never be, just keep up the good work." He replies with a wink and a too friendly smile as he began retreating.

"As always." I speak over my shoulder watching his tall frame disappear behind the pristine blue wall. My presentable mannerism fleeting my being once my attention clung onto Kiara again.

"Now what were you going to ask me before you almost got me fired." I sassed and gave her a lighthearted glare.

She scoffs dramatically and says "If anything I pushed you closer to the manager position. Pike really seems to be impressed with your work ethic." Kiara's face softened and I couldn't help the proud smile spreading onto my lips at the adoration swirling in her brown eyes.

"Maybe," I shrug. "But it's a tinsey bit fetched considering I'm part-time for ten months out of the year." I say knowing this might be it for me.

"You'll get there, I promise." She says it like she too understood the hardships of living on the cut. As if she had to take bread from the clearance shelf and store it in the freezer. Or fill five dollar condition half way when it was a quarter way empty.

I could taste the bitterness trying to over take this tender moment I was sharing with Kie. I despised myself for every comparing my life against hers. Sure it was unfortunate I born into poverty, but it wasn't her fault she had all these advantages in life.

"I'll hold you to it." I tease lassoing back that buoyant atmosphere we held minutes ago.

"Good." She nods. Her heart is too big for this world.

"Now when do you get off work?" She asks innocently twirling one of her braids with her finger, "I think Seven, why? What do you have planned for tonight?" I asked cautiously. Last time she asked me this I got alcohol poisoning from a 'little' kegger as she put it. Those few days I've spent in the hospital wasn't exactly my idea of a good time.

"Don't worry it's nothing too crazy. We're going surfing tonight and I wanted you to come. I know you cant resist a good wave or two. Plus you can show us some of those tricks we can never get down."

My eyes caught movement through the glass doors again. Leaning against Kie's vehicle was none other than JJ himself. My breathe caught in my throat at seeing him for the first time since last night. He was wearing John's clothes telling me he hasn't gone home yet. His blonde hair was no longer matted in sweat and was now looking perfect again.

His eye looked swollen and I cursed that boy for not fetching something from the ice box. His sewn eyebrow was starting to purple. Despite his face, I found the guy so unbelievably attractive.

Kiara noticed my glance was lingering a little too long past her shoulder and trailed my gaze.

Shit!

She's about to discover that her best friend is the only one in a mile radius and blow the entire thing out of the water.

"Was that sew up job yours?"

"No, I haven't seen JJ since last week." I lied and instantly regretted it, Kiara knew I say him two days ago in my backyard. Circling the fire, roasting marshmallows and having a few light drinks.

A knowing glint sparkled in her eyes and she nodded her head. "Right." She finally says dragging the word on for decades. I shook my head in agreement but feeling guilty that I knew she knew I was lying through my damn teeth.

I had no clue why I was trying to keep the patch up job I did on JJ's face under wraps. I've done it a million times and none of them thought it was scandalous before, I've never shoved it under a rock before either. I didn't plan on hiding it, but I wanted to keep that vulnerable moment to myself. I'm not confident on who was aware of his fathers abuse and I wasn't going to crumble the sliver of trust he has with me.

"So whose all going to be there?" I asked reminding myself to wash my sins away later.

"The usually, John B, Pope, Sarah, me and...Jayj." She left Jay's name for last and I fucking knew it was trap, but I still looked past her and at the golden boy again. This will be at the top of the stupidest shit I've done and it's a long list. It didn't take a rocket scientist to understand he was avoiding eye contact with me. Understandable and yet it still pinched.

'I'll be ready by 7:30." I said not really having the energy for it, but I needed to get rid of her before she had the chance to question my odd behavior towards him.

Kie was quiet for a minute reading into my soul. "Okay. Not a minute later." Kiara finally declares starting to walk backwards, towards the automatic doors. The knowing glint that I was holding something back was still evident in her eyes.

I smile in agreement trying desperately to lock down the wariness that wanted to combust.

"I'll see you tonight, Surf Queen."

----

I'm completely wiped as I pull my green 1995 jeep Cherokee right beside the Twinkie. Cutting the engine I guided the stick shift into first gear and yanked the hand brake all the way up securing its parking spot.

Jumping out I winched as my feet hit the ground and the aching in my bones rattled up. The sight of my brother finally home had me forgetting all about the rage I was holding for him. He was surrounded by his friends, sharing the cheapest case of liquor Maybank could get his hands on and having the best time. My heart glowed at his found family. I

I stayed there awhile watching them before I announced my arrival. I admired the way they all could get lost in one another's company and not hear the loud engine of my jeep approaching.

I'm so drained from my shift, But I already promised Kie I'd tag along. I wasn't prepared to struck a crack into another friendship. The more time I spent with Kie the more I seen her as a real friend. And as much as I hated it, it was time to slip that mask on again.

"Holy shit Is that my twin brother as I live and breathe." I spoke loudly capturing everyone's attention. Almost all of them cheered for my appearance and it nearly felt like I was one of them.

If I wasn't the glorious JB's twin sister I wouldn't try so hard to distance myself. I'm my own person and I wanted to make it clear I was separate from my brother. I'm nothing like him or our father dropping everything to search for long forgotten treasure. It's extremely hard being a twin but it was absolutely brutal being a Routledge twin. Especially for one who didn't have her own circle of friend and trying to hijack one of his. Maybe I needed an animal companion or a boyfriend, probably both.

"Jade! I was wondering when you'd get your little butt down here." Pope hollers over with a giant welcoming grin. "I missed you too, Pope." I chuckled at his enthusiasm and returned a warm smile that didn't take up too much energy.

Pope is definitely someone you could hangout with after a long day of work and talk about the mysteries of the universe. He was loyal like the rest of them were and is always the one to knock sense into anyone who needed it.

Forcing my body onto the porch I engulfed John into a bone crushing embrace. He returned it and I clung on tighter to him. Being in his grasp felt like a warm bed and a home cooked meal. Coos and awes could be heard from the Pogues behind us murmuring something about sibling love.

"Please don't ever leave me in this house alone ever again. If you do I will sink a knife in all four tires on the Twinkie." I croaked into his chest.

Letting go me he grabbed each of my shoulders, "Did something happen last night?" He bursts out frantically, concern etched into his facial features.

on instinct my eyes drifted from his and focused on the blonde boy. It was only for a split second but JB caught it and looked back. I could skin myself alive if that were ever possible. Jay still refused to look at me and shrugged at what I assumed is an accusatory glare. His posture was lose as if he wasn't sporting my stitches on his eyebrow.

"I left the front door open." I started distracting him from his locked gaze, "A deer must've wandered in. It spooked me pretty bad." I said the first tale that floated into my brain.

"were you harmed?" John follows even the doubt swam in his eyes.

"No I-I managed to scare it out of the house." I stuttered,

"Well that explains why my floorboard was popped and the bat left in the hallway." JB notes humorously and that's when it dawned on me that I forgot about the damned bat.

How could I forgot? Oh right! There was a certain broken blonde boy crying in my arms last night.

"Yeah." I say guilty and nod my head weakly.

"I'm just glad you're okay." He says, petting my hair comfortably and I fought the urge to ask him why he cared, he's never here and I needed him in the long moments I thought someone broke in. But this wasn't the time to bring up how he's been a shitty brother lately. I wanted to savour this memory with him where he finally bothered care about me and I believed him.

"Let me get this straight." Pope says breaking the heartfelt aura. "Last night. You almost bashed a deer's brains in?" He finishes with a serious tone. It was so absurd that I struggled to keep a composed face.

"That's such a Routledge thing to do." Sarah comments, It almost caused me to shut down and call it day. I never confided in her about the twin conversation so I shouldn't be reacting to her comment the way I was.

"It's a very Jade thing to do in a dire situation." Kiara makes an effort to over shine her comment. She understood just how much I battled to accept that me and John were so much a like in too many ways to deny.

I gave her a grateful smile, thankful for her words. She tipped her head in acknowledgment "I'll be out in ten. I still need to grab my board from the shed." I mumbled heading into the house.

"Of course, take your time." Kiara replies gently,

"Me and JJ, are going to pack your board onto the Jeep for you." JB calls before I hear him barrel off the steps and almost trip and fumble to the ground. John is a good brother don't get me wrong but I missed him being around all the time.

I understood his determination to pick up dad's treasure map where he left off, it has been weeks since his disappearance. I miss the old guy like I lost every too, but I didn't ignore our situation to chase after a ghost ship. I'm the only one keeping us above water and I needed him to realize how much I craved for him to be my brother again. He's the only family I have left.

------------

Three vehicles and six boards later we arrived at the beach. Kiara and JJ in her SUV, me and Pope in my Jeep, the Greenie, and lastly Sarah and John in the Twinkie.

Strangely enough the beach was so scare we could all park together near the sand. It's hitting the golden hour an absolute stunning even to catch a few wave, so gorgeous that it wounded my soul to see it deserted

I knew pope was giving me an odd look as the others started uphauling their boards while I stayed in my seat. I admired the view I was able to experience in this point in time, absolutely breath taking. Ever since the day I rode my very first wave with the help of a certain golden retriever boy. I could hear the ocean wailing for me like a lost soulmate in the wind.

It has been a long time my first love.

"There everyone goes, leaving us behind..." Pope trails longingly,

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his dramatics. "All of you are always go go go, or too wrapped up in each other to just stop, and really enjoy the scenery around you that this earth has given us."

Being here with them gave me a knew found sense of home, like I wasn't just here living this life alone. I think it's time I let these pogues wiggle their way into being there for me. It'll take some time for me to allow them and get more comfortable with being in their presence more. But I'm willing to try for myself, for John, for the Pogues.

Pope is quiet weighing in my spoken thoughts, "You're right I really need to appreciate it a lot more, but right now isn't the time. It seems we're holding everyone up."

I whipped my head fast enough for it to strain and begin to throb in pain. A few feet away I spotted Kie with her board tucked under her one arm and resting against her hip. An expecting look displayed onto her soft features, behind her Sarah and John were beckoning me forward.

JJ was already at the shore line, the high tides crashing into his ankles. He stuck his gaze to the front of the Greenie. Wearing John's bright red shirt that had a white lobster on the chest confirming my suspicion of further injury. Jay was comfortable with his muscular build and it was unusual to find him sporting a shirt while surfing. He must be hiding from the others as well knowing they'd raise havoc at the new found information.

was I bad person for wanting him to really see me? look at me and acknowledge the night we shared? I knew the pain he faced and the time he needed to numb his trauma over. Maybe when he looked at me he was reliving it all again in a rush of conflicted emotion.

One look was all I craved. Just a tiny glance into those storming blue eyes.

"Are you ready?" Pope asks, gentle hopefulness danced in his dark brown eyes. It dawned on me then like a bucket of ice. They had thought I was going to leave like I've done a few times before. This time was different because I truly wanted to be here with them.

"Yeah, I'm ready, Pope." I say grateful for his patience,

Unclasping our boards, Pope jogged alongside me catching up with the rest of them. Soon he fell into step with John B, both of them rush towards their blonde counter part. Kiara and Sarah flanked me and it almost felt like they knew everything that happened last night. Waiting for me to spill but there was not a single thing to share. Nothing happened and I seemed to be reading into it too much.

"Are you okay? You seemed to be hesitating?" Kie asks as we reached the ocean kneeling onto our boards and paddling out. Entering the water gave me this soft security and had woken my sleeping muscles.

"Yeah." I said contently, "I was admiring how beautiful the ocean appeared in the golden hour."

"I love how you can just get lost in the nature around you. Finding the beauty in smallest of things," Sarah notes,

I shrug, " I was taught to appreciate what I was given." It wasn't a jab at their pedigree. It was more of we're different and that's not a terrible thing. They both hum understanding my words weren't malicious.

I felt complete in this moment, smiling at the both of them I could feel my mask breaking into pieces letting my true thoughts be known. It was a radiating feeling.

Looking behind me, the shore in the distance. I could sense we were at the perfect location to catch a few good waves. The others did too and halted their paddling and sat up onto their boards.

All six us stared at the wall of waves building and crashing just a few yards away. Rocking our boards once it rode out and reached past us.

"I love your bikini." Kie says, I look down at the old fading teal bikini. I got it at a thrift store two years ago and a few sizes too small. "You say that every time and you know damn well this is the only one I got." I say playfully and Kiara smiles giving me a wink.

Sarah shrugs, "Kie's right its so cute, but we should all go shopping for new ones. Like a girls day, god know we need it." She says poking her glance past us and we follow her gaze to see the boys barking at each other in deep tones and hyping themselves up.

We burst out laughing at how ridiculous they were being. Snapping their heads towards our laughter they glare teasingly, "What?!" They shout in unison, "What are you guys doing?" Kiara askes, "It looks very intimate." Sarah calls after.

It warmed my heart to JJ enjoying himself considering what he's been through in the last twenty-four hours. It nicked to know he could never be like that with me ever again.

"Our masculine chant." JB states,

"We need to level out the feminine vibe." Jay retorts aiming his words at me. I was stunned to say the least. It bent my heart and I swore that was the last time I ever helped him. it must've been written on my face because John reaches over and smacks him upside the head.

I coughed to over my laugh, but I couldn't help but feel like a fucking out cast again. Maybe letting them in wasn't the best idea.

"I didn't know your masculinity was so fragile, Jay." I spat,

"It's not!" He shot back desperately

"I'm catching the first wave." I blankly said, paddling for the wave. Behind me I could hear John giving JJ shit for treating me like some Kook whose fucking with his feelings.

My body took control catching the wave like I've done many times before. Everything with JJ and John forgotten like none of it happened and I was completely content with that. The adrenaline raced into my blood as I rode the wave with such perfect ease.

After padding back to my spot beside Kiara and Sarah, JJ went next. It was easy to detect that our surfing styles were similar. I would've loved that I replicated his style to the tee a year ago, but now it made me sick to my stomach.

"I've never noticed how you and JJ have the same style." Sarah comments and Kiara's attention snapped to me, I shrugged "JJ Taught me how to surf."

Sarah gave an amused look, "Really? I would've thought John B did." Kie laughs and I shook my head, "Nope." I popped the 'p' "The jackass was too busy laughing at me while I drowned."

"I was not!" John B yelled over catching our conversation,

"Keep telling yourself that buddy." Kie calls returning her attention back to our triangle. Pope snickers and John B squints his eyes at him," I would've taught her but Jayj was the better teacher."

"beside if John did teach me, I wouldn't be able to land a few of my tricks." I shrug,

"What happened between the two of you?' Sarah asks the one question I was dreading, But her eyes were hopeful and I truly wanted to be close friends with her.

"I'm wondering the same thing. We use to be good friends when we were younger, then one day he pulled away. Stopped hanging out with me and never shared anything with me. It was very cold turkey and so fucking strange."

"I'm sorry, that must've been confusing." She replies and I brush it off.

"Nothing I can do now." I say flatly. Noticing Kiara has been quiet I trailed my glace to her, a weak smile spread across her face and I could've sworn I saw guilt swirling in her brown eyes. She must know something that I didn't and I had the urge to dig deeper.

We stayed there for two more hours, surfing and showing off our technique. The sun was ready to disappear over the horizon and god was it gorgeous but it was time to bring it in.

Dragging our bodies near the shore I walked between the girls again. after a successful day session on the waves I felt emotionally and mentally full and healthy. It was as if the ocean had the ability to revive me.

"Are both of you still down to go bikini shopping?" Sarah askes,

"Yeah absolutely, Jade what about you?" Kie replies looking at me expectantly.

"Operation feminine energy is a go!" I shout to the rising moon. Both of them celebrate like they won a marathon, I join them and somehow feel like I'm apart of something outside of being a Routledge twin.

Ahead of us the boys give us weird looks and I couldn't careless, but the lingering glance from JJ had me conflicted. In his storm blue eyes I saw a flicker of regret and I found it hard to breathe.

I held a façade for Kiara and Sarah, but I felt utterly lost when it came to that boy. Carrying our boards back to the vehicles I tried to focus on our new found girl squad.

Pat two took so long because I changed quite a bit from the original piece and added over 1k words. I definitely restrained myself from writing more JJ it's just not time for them yet.

Part two took so long because I wanted to write more JJ, but it's not for it yet.

This is very slow burn and I truly wanted to write about what living on the cut was really like.

Thank you so much for reading It means the worlds you decided to read something I wrote. I love you.

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