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#jj x oc
stvolanis · 16 days
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jj would definitely get a a prince albert piercing one night while drunk.
admittedly, the next morning while dealing with a hangover, he would regret it. Especially with the throbbing pain, and uncomfortable tug of it against his boxers. Best believe the only reason he did it was because John B said he wouldn’t. And of course, Pope knew he would.
but, it wasn’t all bad. Matter of fact, it wasn’t bad at all. Especially when you sat there, naked with your nipples hardened from the unwelcomingly cold air, on your knees with your pretty tongue swirling around the piercing once it had healed. He looked the prettiest like this. His head thrown back, mouth hung agape and at a loss for words as you suckled his leaking tip into your mouth—making sure to pay extra attention to his piercing.
and he completely forgot about why he regretted it in the first place. Especially when you laid quivering under him, eyes dazed and fucked out with your hands balled into fists against the sheets, moans stuttering out brokenly as his pierced tip drags along your inner walls. “So good. Y’feel so good, jj—” you muttered out over and over again, chanting it like it was your religion.
“Gotta thank John B later then, huh?”
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rafeswhorejjsslut · 2 months
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you don’t exactly remember how it started but your sat on the hammock at the chateau with your legs swung over your boyfriends, you’ve been at it for about ten minutes now.
“I truly think i give head better then you eat pussy.” You say confidently earning a smirk from JJ but he just shakes his head
“Yeah but i’ve got you squirting on my fingers after two minutes max.” He says as he waits for your reaction and you roll your eyes
“Fingering and eating pussy is different. plus, i last longer then two minutes!” You say defensively and he chuckles.
“All i’m saying is you cum pretty quickly when i’ve got my mouth on that pretty pussy.” He say nonchalantly with a shrug
Your cheeks flush pink and you shake your head crossing your arms. “Agree to disagree.” was all you reply with and you look out at the water.
“Wanna make a bet?” He say as looks at your pink cheeks then at your beautiful eyes.
“No.” you say back not looking at the blonde boy and you continue to stare out forward.
He places his hand on your shin squeezing it gently then slightly shaking it
“C‘mon now don’t be like that.” He pleads as his thumbs rubs a gentle circle on the side of your leg
“What?” you ask, finally looking at the boy with a teasing smile plastered on your face
He chuckles again. “Okay…here me out. just sit on my face and suck my dick.”
You let out a laugh and you shake your head at the blonde boy “My oh my, you have a way with words.” you tease looking at him with a teasing smile
“No- you know what i mean.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I do?”
“Yes. if i make you cum first you owe me twenty bucks.” he says with a slight smirk plastered on his face.
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
(just a blurb before i gts. might post more maybe not.)
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featherandferns · 1 month
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muse(fic)
jj maybank x fem!reader | loosely inspired by 'all my ghosts' by lizzy mcalpine
content warning: sexual content, drug use (drinking)
word count: 13k
blurb: after moving from Wilmington to Kildare, you find yourself hiding behind your camera at a keggar. That's the first time you ever laid eyes on JJ Maybank. And no matter what you do, it seems like you can't stop running into him. But a past heartbreak has you reluctant to admit that maybe there's something more at play than just friendship.
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His eyes were perfect. They reflect the setting sun like a still lake of water reflects the treeline and sky: clear and clean. The natural curl to his lashes was the thing of envy. Why do men always have such great eyelashes? It’s never fair. His eyes creased with his smile. At least, you presumed he was smiling. You were watching his eyes through the viewfinder, admiring the side profile of his face. It had always been a weird obsession of yours, to photograph eyes. There’s just something about them. They hold so much character. So much emotion and feeling. William Shakespeare once said ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’, and you had to agree.
Yes, the guy was definitely laughing. He shifted out of focus, shaking with his humour, eyes crinkled and bright. Something about it made you smile too: secretive and small. When he finally stilled, you took the opportunity and snapped a shot. Two. One more and – yes, perfect,
Then, you saw his eyes from a whole new angle.
They were staring right at you.
You quickly darted away, lifting the camera higher and to the right, as if you were photographing the sparse treeline siding the beach. There was a small thrum of anxiety in your sternum which you swallowed away, distracting yourself by adjusting the focus of the camera and zooming in on the branches, hoping to spot some wildlife. A bird perched on a branch and you take a rather dull photo before lowering your camera, inspecting the picture. That was when you braved a look to where the boy had been standing before. You don’t find him there and you certainly don’t find him watching in the same way you’d been watching him. Thank God. As the ‘new kid’ in town, the last thing you wanted was the tagline of stalker. It was a little intrusive of you, you had to admit. But it didn’t matter as he mustn’t have noticed you. Just a little embarrassing is all. Lifting the camera once more, you turned your attention to another crowd of people at the beach and continue snapping away.
-
Mac Miller blasts from the radio as you make your way down the street. There isn’t any urban lighting in the area, or streetlamps for that matter. Just lines of trees on either side of the road. Frowning, you glance and check your satnav once more. It doesn’t seem like the sort of area you were expecting but the blue line points clearly ahead, so you continue down the road. That is, until a bike comes into view.
It’s laid on its side on the opposite half of the ride. As you approach, you notice a guy sat beside it and your stomach drops. Slowing to a stop and shutting off the engine, you don’t hesitate before jumping out your truck.
“You okay?”
The guy looks up, removing his head from his hands. You’re relieved to see that his face is mark free. He seems more frustrated than injured.
“Huh?” he asks.
“Are you alright? Did you come off?”
“Oh, no, yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Alright, good,” you say, coming to a stop not far from where he’s sat. “Had me scared for a second there.”
There’s a comfortable gap left between yourself and the guy. In the darkness, you can’t make out his face but you can tell he’s around your age. Folding your arms, you glance up and down the road and take in the vastness of nothing.
“That’s nice of you to stop,” he says. “And kinda stupid too.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to realise that as well,” you admit, making him laugh. “Bystander effect and all that, though. Couldn’t just drive past.”
“Bystander effect?” he echoes, frowning.
You shake your head. “Doesn’t matter. As long as you’re alright.”
“Yeah. The stupid piece of junk just broke down on me again,” he complains, looking to his bike with disdain.
“Guessing it’s got a bad reputation?”
There’s a laugh. “Yeah, guess you could say that.”
He groans and gets to his feet, pushing his hands through his hair. He’s taller than you expected. Looks comfortable in his skin and stance, almost leaning back when he’s stood. You watch him walk the short distance to his bike and pick it up from the floor. He kicks the stand on and sighs, stepping back to inspect it, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Is it ridable?” you wonder. You know nothing about bikes.
He shakes his head. “Not really. Not if I want to stay in one piece, anyway.”
“You live far from here?”
“Kinda, yeah. It’s all good. I’ll just call my friend for a ride or something,” he says, looking away from you and down the road.
You’re not entirely sure what possesses you to say what you do. Maybe it’s your nature – thoughtful and giving – or maybe it’s your stupidity. Maybe it’s the strange feeling that he brings. Something like familiarity, like you’ve met him before. Whatever it is, it has you saying:
“I mean, I’ve got a truck. I can give you a ride if you like.”
His head turns to look at you. In the moonlight, you can make out the frown on his features.
“What?”
“Like, it’s no trouble.”
He bites back a smile. “Is this, like, your first day on earth?”
“What?”
“Did you seriously just offer me a ride?”
You frown. “There’s no need to be a jackass about it. A ‘no’ is fine.”
“No, no, it’s not that,” he says, taking a step closer. “It’s the fact that you’re alone, by the looks of it, in the middle of nowhere, with a random guy and you’re offering him a ride. Willingly.”
You blink at him. Like that, the gravity of how serious this situation could be dawns upon you. The loneliness of the area becomes increasingly more obvious now. Every True Crime podcast you’ve ever thrown on to make an editing session go a smidge faster float through your head. Found dead…Eyes removed…Never to be seen again…
“Fuck. You’re right.”
Thankfully, he laughs, and when he does, it doesn’t seem to be the laugh of a crazed psycho-killer. Nonetheless, with the idea now planted in your head, you don’t particularly want him to take up your offer anymore. It seems like he’s read your mind.
“Seriously, it’s all good. My friend can come get me. He kinda owes me one anyway.”
“Okay, well, good,” you say, nodding. You take a step back towards your truck. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Have we met before?”
That has you pausing. You look him in the eyes. “I don’t think so.”
“Really? You just…You look kind of familiar.”
You shrug. “I’m new round here so I doubt it. Haven’t met many people yet.”
“Where’d you move here from?” he asks. He leans back on his bike seat, as if this is the most casual place in the world to have a conversation.
“Wilmington?”
“Oh, shit. It’s pretty as fuck there.”
“True that,” you chuckle.
“All the girls there as pretty as you, too?”
And, okay, wow. Your surprise must read clear on your face because he’s smirk drops slightly. Only slightly, like his confidence has only tripped, not fallen.
“Shit, probably not the best thing to say considering the circumstance and whatever.”
That makes you smile, somewhat flustered. “Probably not.”
“Well, look, I’ll let you get to wherever you need to get to. Hopefully I’ll see you around though.”
He extends out a hand.
“I’m JJ Maybank.”
You step forward and take it, shaking it, and take the moment to meet his gaze that he seems determined to hold. And it’s then that you realise why he looks so familiar. Comes screaming back to you the way a smell can transport you to a specific moment in childhood. The beach and the camera and the prettiest set of eyes you’d ever seen. The guy that almost caught you photographing him like some peeping Tom. You pray this revelation doesn’t reflect on your face as you introduce yourself. Taking your hand back, you nod in farewell and wander back to your truck.
He's chatting on the phone when you drive past, but you don’t miss the small two-finger salute he gives, catching it in the wing-mirror. Something tells you that you haven’t seen the last of JJ Maybank. Or rather, something hopes that you haven’t.
-
When your parents suggested for you to take up a photography gig to ‘make friends’, you didn’t have the heart to tell them that the girls at the Island Club click probably wasn’t your new haven of happiness. But money is money, and it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. So you stand on the beach, hair fighting against the wind, taking photos of the girls in their stunning, maxi dresses for the promotion of the next ‘mid-summer ball’ they apparently host. They’re complaining about the sand getting in their eyes and the fact that the sun is setting, and in the end the head of the shoot demands everybody to take five. You head up to the Island Club to grab a snack and get out of the weather. A hurricane must be brewing.
“You guys better come back here!”
You turn at the sound of a girl hollering. There’s a group of boys – three of them – laughing and whooping as they speed away in a campervan that looks as though it has been through the ringer more than once. She flips them off, shouting “assholes” before they dart out of sight.
When she turns around, you realise she’s dressed as though she’s part of the photoshoot group. She meets your gaze and her frown only deepens.
“What are you looking at?”
Okay, rude.
“You, I guess,” you reply.
She pauses with that and seems to fight a smile. She nods down at the camera in your hand. “You the photographer for this dumbass thing.”
“Unfortunately, yeah.”
She clears the distance between the two of you as she replies. “Yeah, not my kind of thing. I don’t really like those girls.”
The two of you look to the gang in question. They hadn’t exactly made you feel very welcome. Looked you up and down, in your far-from-fancy attire and practically snarled.
“Not my kind of people either,” you agree.
“I’m Kiara. Kie. You new around here or something?”
“That obvious, huh?”
“No, no. It’s just, this Island Club is kind of a closed-set sort of thing.”
“Yeah, well, my parents sent me here to make friends,” you say, humour heavy in your words. “So far it’s not going so hot.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she replies, a kindness to her smile. You smile back. Her eyes are nice. They’re a little hooded, like she’s hiding something, but they’re warm and inviting. “I’m Kie.”
The exchanging of names is quickly followed by an exchange of numbers, and an open invitation to a hangout that night. Then you’re being called for by the stressed-out looking media leader and you have to rush back to the beach, camera in hand. Kie seems to take the opportunity to escape.
The ordeal of the day seems far from pointless as you pull up to a rundown looking fishing shack in the evening. There’s no need to double check that you got the right address because you spot Kie lounging in a hammock. She’s reading something and gives you a wave. You hop out the truck and wander over.
“Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about, from earlier,” Kie says to the two guys sat around.
You first meet Pope. He’s friendly, perhaps a little awkward at best.
“Glad to hear she managed to get you out of Kookland,” the second boy, John B, tells you.
“Kookland? What’s that?”
“Land of the Kooks!” a third voice calls from the patio. You spin around and come face to face with:
“JJ?”
Pope perks up with that.
“You guys know each other?” Kiara asks.
“Sorta,” JJ answers for you. He tips the beer he has in hand to you. “Did you get back home okay?”
That vague question is heavy with innuendo and has the group turning to look at you, gaging your reaction.
“Yeah, I did. Did you?”
“Yeah. This idiot showed up an hour after I called,” JJ says, smacking John B upside the head as he walks past. He collapses in a worn-down lawn chair.
“Sorry that my life doesn’t revolve around you, JayJ. And that waking me up at one in the morning meant you didn’t get the speediest road recovery.”
“Apology accepted,” he sighs, cracking open the can. Gesturing between yourself and Kie, he asks, “How’d you guys meet then?”
“Rescued her from the Island Club,” Kie says.
“Island Club? Are you – how do they say – ‘rich as fuck’?” JJ wonders, a tease to his smile.
You accept a beer off Pope and take a seat on the floor, back lent against the tree.
“Maybe,” you reply, opening the can and taking a swig.
“Oo, cryptic,” JJ whistles.
“If you two are done flirting,” John B interrupts. You feel your face flush warm and shift your attention to your drink. “Kie says you’re new to Kildare.”
“Yeah, I just moved here two weeks ago,” you say. “My dad landed a job here so we came from Wilmington."
"You meet many people yet?”
“We can tell you who to avoid,” Pope tags on.
“Not really,” you reply. “I went to a kegger the first week but everyone was so close-knit and stuff. I didn’t know who to chat to so I mostly hung back and watched.”
“Holy shit!”
Everyone turns to JJ. He’s the kind of guy that draws attention naturally, but especially when he’s shouting things like that. He’s wide eyed – God, those eyes – and staring right at you. Then he points for good measure.
“Holy shit! That’s why I recognised you!”
No.
Nope.
“The kegger!”
No, please, no.
“Huh?”
“You were taking a picture of me!”
It’s like a cartoon sketch, the way the trio turn their heads away from JJ and instead to you. Your face must be a sight. Eyes wide, mouth not far from agape, stunned and silent.
“What’s he on about?”
“It’s not as weird as it sounds,” you begin to say. “I just…”
“Nah, no judgement. Everyone has a thing. Some people like drinking and some people like dancing, and some people like taking sneaky shots of strangers.”
You know he’s joking. Even though you don’t know JJ well, you get the sense that everything is comedy to him, even the darkest of things. You know that you shouldn’t take it to heart: that he’s ribbing you like one of the guys. And maybe if you knew these ‘guys’, then you could dish it back and laugh it off. But you don’t. You don’t know anyone. The logic of it all doesn’t stop your heart from taking hurt, and tears sting your eyes in embarrassment. There’s no time to even make up some dumb excuse. Instead, you murmur an ‘excuse me’ and ditch your beer, heading into the house, maybe in search for the bathroom. It’s as you pass the threshold of the door that you hear Kiara.
“Nice one, JJ.”
She does not sound impressed.
It’s in the quiet of the bathroom that you can take a breath. The muggy warmth of the night is sticking to your skin and you wash your hands for something to do. Fix your hair.
Get a grip, you think. You want to make friends, right? Grow a bit of thicker skin.
Moving away from Wilmington wasn’t your idea. It wasn’t a choice. In fact, if you had any say in the matter, you’d be back in your old room with your old friends right now. But you’re seventeen and your dad needed this job, and you knew things weren’t great back in your old life for your parents. Their failing marriage had only so many possible solutions to fix it, and they’d opted for the ‘start over some place new’ one. Kind of ironic, considering moving is meant to be one of the most stressful experiences of someone’s life. The fighting seemed tenfold. You missed your friends whenever a spat started out. Missed your old spots to go people watch and photograph.
But what good was it to miss them? It wouldn’t change anything.
With that tough love thought in mind, you dry your hands, fix your hair and open the door.
JJ jump scares you.
“Jesus Christ!” You catch your breath. “You scared me.”
“Look,” he says, acting as though he didn’t just make you jump five feet in the air. “Pope says I’ve got fluff in my mouth syndrome or whatever and I can be an asshole sometimes and take jokes too far. I shouldn’t have gone at you like that.”
“It’s fine,” you say.
“No, it ain’t fine. It was a dick thing to do,” JJ insists.
You start to smile. “Well, yeah, a little. But no harm done.”
“I didn’t mind that you were taking photos. Kie even says you’re kind of a photographer so…”
“…that makes it less creepy?” you offer.
He almost seems to blush. “Well, yeah, kinda.”
There’s a pause.
“I just…”
You change your mind on what to say. It seems a little forward, your original sentence, so instead you go for another approach – equally as honest.
“The thing is, I’m not really good at making friends. I get kinda awkward and its weird cause I’m not shy, I just…I haven’t been away from Wilmington before. Hell, I haven’t had to try and make new friends since I was like six years old. I should have just come over to you at the kegger and introduced myself but…I don’t know.”
“Nah, I get it,” JJ says. You meet his gaze. There’s a softness there that you haven’t really seen before. His eyes hold so much emotion: you’re not sure you’ve known someone to reflect their feelings so well in their eyes before. God, you wish you had your camera. “Let’s just start over.”
“Start over?”
“Well, the first time I saw you was when you were taking your little peeping pics of me—”
“—that’s not what—”
“And then the second time we saw each other was when you offered a complete stranger a ride after finding me in the middle of nowhere,” he continues. Then his face twists, as if something is dawning upon him. “Or, I guess I wasn’t a complete stranger after all…Oh my God, it’s like you were plotting the whole thing.”
You roll your eyes with mirth. “Yeah, I actually rigged your bike up and planned it all.”
“Damn Wilmington. Got a criminal mastermind at play.”
“Don’t cross me, I guess,” you shrug, playing into the joke.
The two of you smile at one another. JJ nods, seemingly to himself.
“Well, good. I guess we’re starting fresh then.”
“Good. Cause I could really do with some friends,” you admit after a moment.
JJ smiles brighter at that. Sincere and sweet. “Well that we can definitely help with.”
It’s then that you notice the two beers he’s holding: one in each hand. He offers one out as an extended apology and you take it. The crisp ‘tsk’ as you crack it open and the small waft of steam. Then he’s cheers-ing you.
“Welcome to the Pogues.”
-
As your time in Kildare marched on, so did your growing friendship with the Pogues. You and Pope became study-buddies, preparing for the new academic year. Kie was your go-to surf pal and John B made sure you always felt welcome at the fishing-shack. But it was JJ who you were closest with.
You weren’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was the strange meeting which had bonded you a little tighter than everyone else. Whatever it was, ever since the small confrontation in the hallway, it was like the two of you had found your footing. The two of you had taken up smoking together, sitting outside and watching the water and the stars and the world pass by. He often hitched a ride to work in your truck whilst his bike still went through its repairs. In fact, you’d become somewhat of a personal chauffer for JJ – not that you were complaining. You liked his company. He made you laugh and he was a surprisingly good listener. The more time you spent with him, the more you got to see the truth behind his character.
You sat outside the ‘Kook Club’, as JJ lovingly dubbed it, zoned out to the music playing through your truck’s stereo. It was dusk, darkness teasing for nightfall, and you’d promised JJ a lift back to the chateau. There’s something which perks up inside of you when you spot JJ leaving the building. He’s wearing a collared shirt, hair slightly more styled than usual, and walks with a pep in his step that suggests he’s ready to be away from the stuffiness of the upper class. When he spots your truck, he flashes you a grin, and something stirs. As more time has passed, and your friendship has grown closer, you’re finding it harder and harder to deny the teeny-tiny crush that you've got on JJ .
He climbs into the passenger side and collapses in the seat with a sigh.
“Long day?” you ask, turning down the radio.
“The longest.”
“Look, I gotta get gas on the way back. You know the closest spot?”
JJ takes a moment to think, during which he pulls out his vape and takes a drag. “We could go to the seven-eleven. About ten minutes from here.”
“Sweet,” you say. Then you’re pulling off and following his directions.
For a short portion of the journey, there’s nothing but the tyres on tarmac and the hum of the radio. In the sideview there’s beady eyes of deer and critters as the world grows darker by the minute, the glow of the headlights reflecting off their irises. JJ drums a rhythm on the arm rest dividing the passenger and driver’s side. His cologne gradually mixes with the scent of your car. You’d be lying if you don’t steal a glance every now and then. He’d be nice to photograph. Good jaw and easy set expressions. Relaxed and renewed, and probably comfortable in front of a camera.
“Take a left.”
You do as he says. The gas station is in sight, glowing fluorescent in the soulless streets. There’s no other cars pulled up ad a rather sketchy motel a few places down. The pylon proudly displays the logo, flickering vaguely like the electricity isn’t running on full-max. It warns at the looming hurricane everyone has been stressing over. Pulling up to a pump, you turn off the engine.
“You coming in?” you ask, turning to JJ.
“Sure. They give you a free Slurpee if you buy more than five gallons.”
“Dope.”
The two of you get out. It’s strange, how routine this already feels. The door of the gas station creaks as it opens and JJ holds it open for you, jokingly bowing his head and muttering “m’lady” as you pass. You laugh under breath and shake your head. He stands with you as you go to the cash register and it feels nice, having him close by. Almost safe, especially in such an isolating environment. Then he’s claiming the free Slurpee like a nine-year-old child tagging along with errands. You pay for the gas and head back out to the truck. By the time you’re done filling up, JJ remerges. The pump clicks off.
“Free Slurpee boys! And…” he digs in his pocket and pulls out a Mars bar. “A thank you for the free ride.”
“Oh, this ride is free then?” you kid.
He stands in front of you, smiling. “Well, free plus a Mars. And I might give you a sip of my Slurpee.”
“Oh my God, do you treat all your girls this good?”
JJ’s smile whips into a grin. “So you’re my girl now, huh?”
Fighting off the embarrassment, you opt to roll your eyes and snatch the candy bar from him. “In your dreams, Maybank.”
“How’d you know?” he winks.
And, God, he’s cute. Stood under weirdly flattering luminous lights, the neon colours bouncing off his shirt and dulling perfectly on his skin, he’s glowing. His freckles and sunspots are highlighted and laughter lines cast in shadows. Some people are made to be muses. Perhaps cute is the wrong word. Beautiful fits better.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
You can’t help but chuckle at the joke. You wag the Mars bar at him.
“Thanks for the snack,” you say.
Walking back to the driver’s side, you act as though you hadn’t been staring into his eyes like a lovesick pre-teen moments before. Blame it on the hour of night and the privacy of the gas station and the warm stickiness of the August air of North Carolina.
JJ takes the cue and sits in the passenger seat once more. There’s the occasional slurp as he drinks and the odd rustle of the engine as you drive.
“You want a sip?”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Come on,” he says, practically whining like a child. He holds the cup out to you, extending the straw and all.
You laugh and bat it away. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
“You know you wanna have a sip. Just one sip,” JJ goes on. He sniggers as he pushes it under your nose, almost sticking the straw up a nostril in the process.
“Do you want me to crash this car?”
“Do you really not want a taste of my Slurpee?”
“That’s one hell of an innuendo,” you laugh. JJ doesn’t relent and you laugh harder, taking the cup form him with your free hand. “Fine! Jesus!”
He grins as you take a sip. The sugary drink tastes nostalgic on your tongue. It reminds you of long road-trips and cinema visits and treats from your parents. You pass it back as you swallow.
“Happy?”
“Yup.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head. Without thinking, you hear yourself say, “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.”
“Not as handsome, right?”
“Not as ADHD, is what I was going to say,” you mumble.
JJ laughs and shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “You know what? I ain’t even offended.”
The two of you relax into the quite of the car. JJ finishes his drink and meddles with the straw.
“Paper straws are so dumb.”
“They’re good for the environment,” you tell him.
“You’re starting to sound like Kiara.”
“Thank you?”
“They just break apart. So stupid.”
“You could try drinking a drink without a straw.”
“Boo. Boring.”
You chuckle and drive ahead.
“I’ve never met someone like you either, come to think,” JJ says.
“Let me guess: someone as stunningly beautiful,” you offer, finishing the joke for him.
“Well, yeah, obviously,” he grins, making you roll your eyes. “But also…I just feel like you understand me. Sometimes in a way that my other friends don’t. I don’t know, maybe that’s dumb. I can’t really explain why but I just think you get it.”
A warm feeling runs down your spine.
“Oh?”
“Sorry. That’s probably weird,” JJ backtracks. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat.
“No, no. It’s not. I feel the same way,” you say. Then, flashing him a smile – sweet and soothing – you shrug. “I don’t feel like I have to put on a front with you.”
“Thanks.”
A quiet. Then, “you’re really easy to talk to.”
“Thanks,” you smile.
JJ shakes his cup and holds it out to you. “There’s a mouthful left. You want.”
“Obviously.”
As he hands you the cup, your fingers brush. And the whole thing – the drop offs and picks ups; the gas station; the shared drink; the conversations in the dark of night – feels like a clandestine meeting.
-
Insomnia is a curse.
After spending the last hour trying to fall back asleep after a three-in-the-morning pee break, you’d officially accepted defeat. It was as if the fluff in the comforter had rearranged itself whilst you were gone.
Sighing, you trudge to the kitchen and flick on the light of the extractor fan. It’s dull and in need of changing, but you decide the less light, the better – in case it somehow might wake someone else in the chateau up. You duck down and search through one of the cupboards for food and come across a box of mac and cheese.
“Oh, hell yeah,” you mumble, pulling it out.
You scan over the instructions despite knowing them off by heart, then go about grabbing a pan from the draining board. The gentle rap of fingers on the countertop startles you, but only slightly. You look over to find JJ. His hair is more messy than usual – roughed up with sleep – and there’s adorable lines on his biceps left by the blanket and pillowcase. He’s wearing a stretched-out muscle-tee, with a surf shop logo on the right pec.
“Can’t sleep?”
“What’s new?” he replies. You both smile and you hold up the box.
“Want some?”
“Hell yeah.”
As you pour the contents into a pan and begin to add water, JJ leans against the counter beside you. He watches as you stir.
“How come you crash here a lot?”
You frown and glance at him. “Random question, JayJ.”
“Just wondering. I know Kie and Pope sometimes do when we’ve been hanging out, but you’re just…here.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you counter, perhaps defensively.
He shrugs. “My dad’s an ass. Plus, the pillows here are way better than mine at home.”
Maybe it’s his response that reminds you of who you’re talking to. You sigh and stir the pasta. Watch the bubbles rise through, breaking apart the powder, as you reply. “My parents fight. It’s nice here. Quieter and stuff.”
JJ nods. It’s hard to explain how you know that he understands. You just do.
“Do you miss Wilmington?”
“Sometimes. I miss my old friends. This really good café, too – I miss that. I’d been so much that they knew me as a ‘regular’. Pretty high achievement,” you say.
JJ quirks a brow. “You and me live pretty different lives, if you call that an achievement.”
You swing out your leg, pretending to go and kick him. He bats it away, hand pushing against the bare skin of your thigh. You don’t tell him the things you don’t miss. Like the neighbour’s dog and the traffic jams outside of your school. Like your ex.
“Were you born in Wilmington?”
“What’s with all the questions?” you ask, laughter in your voice.
“I just…Your accent doesn’t sound all that North Carolina.”
“You pay attention more than I figured,” you say.
“Shut up. I pay attention tons.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Like how you chew on your cheek when you’re stressed. Or how you always add the ice after making your coffee, not before.”
His words make you pause. It’s a strange feeling when you know someone has been observing you. When you know someone has seen you. Stranger still when it’s someone like JJ. It seems that the quiet makes him nervous, as he clears his throat and presses his question once more.
“So, was you?”
“Was I what?”
“Born in Wilmington.”
“Oh! Um, no, no. I was actually born in New Hampshire,” you say. It was a long time ago. You don’t remember it well. You just remember why you left. Remember coming home from school early to find your mom sat on the sofa, soul-crushingly close to your next door neighbour.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?” you ask, looking up from the pasta and coming back to the world.
“Chewing on your cheek.”
“Oh,” you say. You clear your throat and turn off the gas on the stove. “I, uh, didn’t realise my accent had stuck around all that much.”
“Not really. Just every now and then you say things and it don’t sound all that Wilmington-ish.”
“Oh,” you say.
JJ grabs a couple of bowls and holds them out to you. “Well, I’m glad you ended up in North Carolina.”
“So you could get free lifts from work and pasta in the middle of the night?” you joke, dishing out the food as you speak.
“Sure, that. But also just…you.”
You shake your head. The smile falters. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
You don’t reply. Instead, you finish sharing out the mac and cheese. There’s something peaceful about being up in the middle of the night with someone else, especially somewhere like Kildare, in John B’s house. There’s this illusion that you and JJ are the only people on earth. The conversations you make come and go easy and don’t feel forced. The tones are hushed and gentle in the quiet of the night. You perch on the counter, directly opposite JJ, and the two of you eat.
“Did I ever tell you about the time that I took a dump in the school yard?”
The absurdity of what just came out of JJ’s mouth makes you drop a piece of pasta on your sweatpants.
“What?”
“Did I?”
“Um…No?”
“Alright, well, basically, me and this one teacher were always getting at one another. Like this lady really had it in for me. One time, she made me stand up in front of the whole class and explain the quadratic formula, like that’s even a thing.”
“It is a thing,” you say, brushing the pasta off your now stained pants.
“Anyway,” he glides out, blissfully ignoring you, “this one time she got super pissed with me. She was like screaming at me across the room and all. Proper tripping out over something that I did.”
“What did you do?”
“Just this dumb doodle on the board over break.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, it was kind of inappropriate, but it was funny as hell! The whole class thought so too!”
“Right,” you say, smiling.
“So this woman asks me why I did it. And I tell her the truth – like we’re taught to do – and say that my boy Charlie dared me to do it. Gave me his bottle of Coke for it. So she goes like neon-red now and tells me that I’d do anything that someone told me to do. Like if someone said ‘jump’ then I’d say ‘how high?’ and all that bullshit. I’m just like ‘not really, I just really wanted a bottle of Coke.’ Then I’m like ‘I’d probably do anything for a bottle of Coke.’ So she basically calls my bluff and tells me that she’ll give me a bottle of Coke if I take a shit on the yard,”
“She said that?”
“Well she didn’t say shit. Probably said something fancy-as-hell but meant the same thing.”
“Like defecate?”
“Sure, sure, that,” JJ says, gesturing to you in vague approval. “So I’m like: bet. I go out to the part of the school yard where everyone can see me-”
“-no you didn’t-”
“-pull down my shorts-”
“-there’s no way-”
“-and take a dump right there on the lawn.”
You sit, staring at JJ, mouth agape. He’s grinning like crazy, strangely proud of his act.
“When was this?”
He shrugs and shovels another spoonful of mac and cheese in his mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe like two years back?”
“Only two years?”
“Whatever. Fifteen year-olds do dumb as hell shit.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’d do that kind of thing now, if someone paid you enough?”
JJ smirks, looking up from his food and swallowing his mouthful. “Cause I think you know me as well as I know you.”
Your heart shivers.
“Really?”
He nods, his grin seemingly slightly more sentimental. Lips perfectly damp from licking them with his last bite of food. Soft and sweet and sleepy.
But then it’s gone and he’s eating again, and you wonder if the darkness of the room made his features warp into what you wanted them to be. You eat another spoonful of pasta and allow yourself to sink back into the selcouth silence of the summer night. You spot JJ as he gazes out the window, lost in thought, perhaps trying to spot the owl that keeps hooting away. The light from the oven is more orange than amber. He’s blocking most of it which casts strange shadows on his features. It just nicely outlines his shape. You itch for your camera. You’ve never known someone so photogenic before. Instead, you settle for the next best thing, pulling your phone out from your sweat’s pocket and snapping a secret shot. You don’t have your phone on silent though. With the noise, JJ turns to find you holding your phone up.
“Did you just take a picture of me?”
“No,” you flat-out lie.
He raises a brow. “Lemme see it.”
“No.”
“Come on!”
He takes a step toward you, ditching his bowl on the counter.
“Shush – you’re gonna wake everyone up.”
“Lemme see! Isn’t it like illegal to take a photo of someone without their permission?”
“It’s a bad photo anyway,” you lie yet again, moving to pocket your phone. He lunges out to grab it and you reflexively put your bowl to the side and hold your phone above your head all at the same time. “Quit it!”
“Quit being such a baby,” JJ sniggers.
He places one hand on your hip to hold you in place as he leans up to take the phone. Despite your best efforts to keep it out of reach, he’s taller than you and eventually wrestles it free from your grip. Only when he’s looking down to inspect the photo do you realise his hand is still holding your side. Fingers almost a familiar weight, pressing gently against your skin, as if he’s forgotten himself how he’s stood. Your heart thrums. Maybe it’s from the adrenaline of the play-fight or maybe it’s not.
“Damn. You make me look hallway decent, Wilmington,” JJ mutters. He stares at the photo a moment longer before holding your phone out.
Dumbly, you take it and glance down at the picture of him.
“You take a nice photo,” you say without thinking.
He looks up at you. There’s that softness again to his eyes. It hides behind laughter and rambunctious shenanigans and even anger, at times. There’s that girlish thought that comes to mind: that all girls want a guy to look at them like that, and only them. Like that gentleness is just for you. It reminds you of how you felt with your ex. How he used to be different around you, inexplicably so. Softer and cuddlier and vulnerable. He’d hold you and spin you around and make you feel safe and special and soft. Until you realised that it was only when he was around just you. That around everyone else, even your friends, he was distant and distracted. He wouldn’t hold your hand. Leave you to fend for yourself in conversations, like treading water in the sea whilst him and his family sat relaxing on a yacht only feet away. Relied on excuses like how he didn’t like PDA. How he was ‘going to’. It stopped feeling like a privilege and more like a curse. Feeling like a secret it just as bad as being one.
The sting of the memories from what now feels like your past life make you pull back from the moment with JJ. You shuffle, prompting JJ to move, and jump down from the counter, going to clean your bowl. He watches you a second and there’s a strange seclusion that comes over the two of you, different than before.
“Uh…I think I’m gonna try and head back to bed. Maybe that good old mac and cheese might help me drift off.”
You give a stiff nod as you wash the bowl at the sink. He rubs his hands together and you catch him linger a moment in the reflection cast on the window. Then he nods, seemingly to himself, and leaves you alone in the kitchen. The minute he retires, you shut off the tap and sigh, hanging your head. Your teeth sink into the flesh of your cheek absentmindedly. When you close your eyes, you’re haunted by JJ’s face morphing into your ex’s. It’s strange and unsettling. You haven’t thought of your ex ever since you left Wilmington. Not until now, when the possibility of JJ became more than a friend became more real. You don’t know why it’s creeping back on you. All you do know is that maybe it’s time to try and get some more sleep. You click off the light from the extractor fan and wander back to the pull-out.
-
Kildare wasn’t all that different to Wilmington. You weren’t all that different either. Your love for photography hadn’t diminished: if anything, it seemed to have grown, what with all the new places and people to photograph. It felt like a nice thing to hide behind too. Like an extension of yourself, to explore your new home. You’d become more outgoing again. More confident in yourself in the new setting. The thought of heading to school in the next two week wasn’t completely bugging you out, either. Something you weren’t entirely prepared for was how the weather hit different on the island. It was like that of the mainland but on steroids. Your parents had warned you about how hurricanes hit stronger out here than back home. Perhaps in your naiveté, you missed all the warning signs of the storm that had finally arrived after weeks of build-up.
You’d gone out for a walk to clear your head, camera in hand. People watching was usually your go to but it felt as though you’d been snapping shots at the docks too much. You wanted a change. After a particularly heated argument with your parents just the night before, there was a strange draw to reconnect with nature. To go somewhere peaceful and isolated, away from others. The whole spat had come about after they told you they were taking a short trip back to Wilmington. There was no invite extended to you despite it having been your home for years. Instead, it was all selfish. All an attempt to recreate the honeymoon romance that they’d found after leaving New England. It’s strange, how since talking to JJ, a bunch of the stuff that you’d repressed was coming back up. Your mom’s affair and your ex-boyfriend.
The rustle of leaves has you pausing and looking up, raising the camera. There perches a bird on a branch, a worm hanging out of its mouth. It’s comically large compared to the size of the creature. A smile comes to your face as you snap a few shots, meddling with the exposure. Before you can try and gain a new angle, a gust of wind has the bird taking flight. There’s an unsettling feeling which comes over you as several birds follow, as if fleeing the marsh. They’re cawing and crowing as they go.
“Hm.”
As you venture in deeper, you switch your focus. Flowers and frogs and critters. But as more time passes, the more the wind picks up and the fewer animals you find. Then, there’s rain. Thin and spitting, sheening your face with tiny specks. You put your camera back in its case with just enough time, because then it’s coming down in full force. An ambush of ice-cold pellets, hammering down, battling with the wind, blowing your hair in every direction.
“Oh, shit.”
The hurricane.
You’ve been in this marsh once before and start down the pathway that you think leads you out the way you came in. But it doesn’t. Instead, it takes you deeper. By now, the wind has enough power to pick up debris. Twigs and leaves and dirt and dust. You guard your eyes and groan, soaking to the skin. Eventually, through the chaos, you find a parting and practically stumble onto the streets. It’s some random neighbourhood. It’s no better here, either. Without the shelter of trees, the wind is full-force. The rain is painful when it collides with the skin of your face, raw from the breeze. Clothes sticking to skin and feet soaked through to the socks. You begin down the street, hoping it may lead back to your house, but you don’t recognise where you are. Where you’re going. The storm is already messing with cell service, rendering your phone useless. You debate going up to one of the houses but the homes don’t look particularly inviting.
Something that sounds like your name has you turning. Squinting through the rain and wind, you can make out a bright red bike. And…
“Hey!”
“JJ?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
You run over, trying to cover your eyes. It’s him.
“What the hell are you doing, Wilmington?” he shouts, voice carrying with the weather.
“I got lost and…I was walking…”
“What? I can’t hear you?”
“Can you give me a ride home?” you holler, squinting.
He nods, jutting his chin for you to climb on. You do as you’re told, wrapping your arms around his chest. The idea of being on a bike in this weather isn’t fun, but it’s the best chance you’ve got, and you trust JJ. He revs the engine.
“Hold on!”
Your grip around his waist tightens. Pressing your cheek to his back, you close your eyes and feel the bike accelerate. The two of you zip through the streets, pelted by rain and hail and wind, and JJ cusses continuously. When you come to a stop, you open your eyes to find your home.
“Come on!”
“I gotta head back,” JJ shouts. You shake your head, climbing off the bike.
“It’s too dangerous. We need to get inside!”
You watch him debate, glancing down the driveway, to your house, to you. It’s when your gaze locks that he seems to make his decision.
“Fine. Let’s get inside.”
Behind closed doors, you realise how much pandemonium the storm is causing. JJ collapses against it, groaning and panting. You cringe as you pull your t-shirt away from your skin. It’s soaked. You’re soaked.
“I don’t think a human has ever been wetter.”
You watch JJ’s smirk; his eyes still closed; head lent back against the door.
“Don’t—”
“-that’s what she said.”
You chuckle. “Thanks for giving me a lift.”
“What were you doing out there anyway?”
“I went for a walk,” you sigh, toeing off your shoes. They’re drenched too. “My parents got in a fight last night with me.”
JJ watches as you kick your shoes to the side. “They home?”
“Nah. They went back to Wilmington for the weekend,” you say.
“Oh.”
Yeah. Oh.
“Well, I’m glad I found you,” JJ says.
“What were you doing out there?” you ask. You venture further into your house and JJ takes the hint to follow.
“Helping out at the docks with Pope, tying everything down and stuff.”
You nod.
“If you wanna go sit down through there, I’ll go grab us a towel and stuff,” you say, gesturing to the living room. He nods.
Your camera gets left on the coffee table before you jog upstairs and retrieve a couple of towels. Drying off, you switch into some joggers and a sweater, changing out of your socks and immediately feeling ten times warmer. Then you’re raiding your parents’ stuff and grabbing some shorts and a sweater for JJ, returning downstairs. You find JJ looking at the booze cupboard, inspecting the different wines and liquors.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” he says, not turning around. “Your parents got some real fancy shit.”
“I know,” you reply. You toss the towel at him and it hits him on the head. Then you’re stood by his side. “You wanna open a bottle?”
“Are we allowed?”
You shrug. “If they’re gonna ditch their daughter to go back to her hometown during a hurricane, then I think it’s only fair that we treat ourselves.”
JJ grins. “I think I like this side of you.”
“Pick a bottle of something. There’s some clothes on the sofa for you. I’ll go grab some shot glasses.”
When you return, JJ’s pulling on the jumper – already changed into the shorts – and you catch a glimpse of his toned chest. You clear your throat, fighting away the flush on your face, and put down the shot glasses on the coffee table.
“What we drinking?”
He leans over and holds up the bottle of brandy. You cringe.
“Really?”
“This shit is premium,” he announces, glancing over the label. “We gotta drink it.”
“Alright, alright.” You dig about in the coffee table drawers and produce a stack of trivia cards. “But we gotta make it interesting.”
That’s how you found yourself sitting across from JJ on the sofa, one of your legs tucked under the other, giggling and drinking under the cosy light of the standing lamp.
“Wrong.”
You groan and lean forward, grabbing one of the shot glasses full of brandy. It burns a little as it runs down your throat.
“Bleh.”
“This is good shit, Wilmington,” JJ informs you. To make his point, he grabs one of the glasses and tilts it toward you ever so slightly, like a toast, before downing the whole thing.
“You didn’t even answer a question wrong!”
“So? I don’t need a reason to drink,” he shrugs.
“But that’s not how the game…Oh, whatever,” you say, cutting yourself off.
You grab a card from the pile, reading out the trivia question. “What distance is the earth to the sun?”
JJ’s face contorts in bewilderment. “What kind of dumbass question is that?”
“A trivia one,” you say, watching him with a smile.
“I don’t fucking know. A hundred?”
“A hundred what?”
“Miles?”
You blink at him. “A hundred miles? From our planet to a huge ball of gas?”
“Who’s actually measured it, that’s what I want to know,” JJ says.
“Scientists.”
“But like how?”
“I don’t know,” you laugh, leaning back on the sofa. “With science, I guess. Answer the question.”
“‘With science’. ‘With science’?”
“Shut up.”
“Didn’t know I was in the presence of a genius,” JJ announces.
You roll your eyes and prod him with your toe, careful not to knock over the pile of trivia cards. “Answer!”
“This game is dumb. Why couldn’t we just play strip poker?”
“Jesus Christ – answer the question!”
“I did! One-hundred miles!”
“That’s such a dumb guess!” you laugh, placing the card at the bottom of the pile.
“Was it right?”
“No!”
By now you’re in hysterics, shaking your head. JJ’s watching you, sniggering away, and he gladly takes his punishment: another shot of brandy. You relax back into the couch and watch him swallow, not a wince in sight. The crewneck you gave him is a little threadbare on one of the sleeves and it’s been stretched out from frequent wear. Looks cosy and cute. So does he. The brandy’s clearly working away…
“You gonna take another creepy stalker photo of me again?”
“Maybe,” you smile, no longer shying away from his teasing.
JJ glances up from the pile of cards that he’s meddling with.
“You never showed me the one you took at the beach.”
“You never asked to see it,” you reply.
“Well, can I?”
Your confidence dwindles a moment. Then, you sight and relent, reaching for your camera. JJ places the cards back down and watches you remove the gadget from its case, clicking through the pictures. It seemed like such a long time ago now, when you took that photo. The endless pelting of rain and whistle of wind echoes outside. It’s cosy and dark in the wood-themed living room. Ebony panelling and plum purple sofas give the sense of luxury. Makes the home almost feel loving.
“Here,” you say, holding out the camera.
JJ takes it from you with care, something that seems unnatural for someone so energetic, and you can’t help but study him as he studies your pictures. He smiles at the one you took of him. A strange smile: like he’s surprised by his own candidness. Most of the photos are pictures of the neighbourhood and town. Beaches and trees and people going about their days. Boats bobbing on water and fisherman dragging up crab-cages. Children biking down the street and old couples sat on their porches like something from a Suburbia advert in the fifties. The more he flicks through, the more his playful grin turns into a smile that’s almost…solemn. There’s a slant to his brows as he takes in the world you see. Then he pauses on a certain photo. It’s one you took almost two weeks ago, of a man that you saw smoking a cigarette outside of a dive bar. There was something about him that seemed so tired and worn, like he’d wasted his happiness on something unforgiving. His smile disappears. There’s an urge to ask him something: if he's okay, seems to be the most pressing query, though you’re not sure why.
“What’s the verdict then?” you ask.
“Well, I’m no connoisseur of photography but these are pretty fucking good,” JJ says quietly.
“Really?”
“Hell yeah.” He clicks along. “You like to photograph eyes.”
“I know,” you reply, a little embarrassed. “I just think they hold so much emotion and personality.”
“Yours definitely do,” JJ says.
“They do?”
“Yeah. You got real pretty eyes.”
“Oh,” you say. “Thanks.”
JJ continues to go through the pictures. He laughs at one of John B and Kie, balancing on the jetty, a beer can on each of their heads. Then he’s studying the buttons on the camera and clicks on the shutter, bringing the camera back to shooting-mode.
“Oh, I—”
“Come on,” he grins, lifting the camera.
“JJ, no,” you protest, lifting your hands to take the camera back. But he leans back and snaps a shot. “Stop!”
“You look cute,” he says.
“Don’t say things like that,” you mutter.
“You do! Just one photo.”
You finally stop your wriggling and sit, offering a meek smile. It’s unnatural being on this side of the camera. Unfamiliar. JJ appears to be concentrating as he takes a photo.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
He switches back to the gallery and tilts the camera for you to see. You shuffle along the sofa until you’re side by side, and take the camera from him. It’s actually a pretty good photo. The exposure is off, so you’re not all that pronounced from the rest of the sitting room, but it works. Captures the halcyon atmosphere of the night. You know he’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. That’s when you realise that you’re doing it again – chewing on the inside of your cheek – and you let it free. Then, you build the nerve to look up and meet JJ’s gaze. His lips are on yours before you have a moment to question it. And you don’t. You don’t question any of it.
He’s not forceful but also not shy. It all seems to occur one thing after another: his fingers on your face, your lips on his, his tongue teasing your own. There’s a pull to it all. The gentle scratch of his teeth capturing your lower lip have you returning to yourself. It was as if you had momentarily removed from your body to watch the whole thing play out. As he softly lets your lip go, before he can move in to reconnect once more, you move away. Place a hand on his collarbone to keep him from following. Lips parted and breathing a little shaky.
“Was that okay?” JJ checks, voice hoarse.
“Yes,” you reply, just as quiet.
Your eyes flick up to his, finally drawing away from his damp lips, and he’s watching you in a way that you’re not sure anybody ever has before. It’s refreshing. It’s nothing like your ex. It’s nothing like the kitchen, either, when you suddenly felt haunted. It’s freeing and fresh. It’s…good.
“Yeah, that was okay,” you repeat.
JJ smiles. His lips return to yours and you don’t shy away this time, leaning into the kiss, melting into it like butter on a pan. His fingers trail from your face, down your neck, guiding you impossibly closer. You go to move onto his lap and almost knock the two of you off the sofa and onto the floor during the process. The kiss breaks as you both laugh, breathless.
“You wanna go upstairs?” you wonder, scared to move too far from him as if you might break out of the trance.
“Sure. So I don’t break my knees and stuff,” he replies, making you giggle.
Despite his response, JJ starts kissing you again. His tongue brushes against yours. You feel your body ignite. Sighing, you push closer then pull away, and JJ groans as you break free from him entirely. He follows you upstairs, a hand reaching out to thumb at your waist, like he can’t be away from you. Before you head into your room – pushing the door open – you quickly glance to the bathroom.
“I’m just gonna pee real quick,” you say, a little flustered.
JJ plants a kiss to your forehead. Your cheek. Your lips. You eventually pull away, reluctantly. As you head to the bathroom, hoping to freshen up just a smidge, you catch JJ flick on the lamp beside your bed. When you return, him in all his ADHD glory has found your polaroid camera. He’s studying it like a school child, making you laugh. Looking up, he holds it up to you.
“Found this.”
“I can see that,” you say, closing your door and walking over to him. He opens his legs and lets you stand between them, bringing a hand up to hold at your waist. He slips it under your sweater, skin on skin, warm and weighted.
“Smile.”
You don’t even have time to protest before he’s snapping a picture, sniggering away.
“Oh my God, that is the worst angle,” you say, laughing quietly.
JJ takes the developing photo and places it on the bedside table. You take the opportunity to steal the camera back, taking a candid of him leaning over. The flash temporary lights up the room.
“Sure that’s hot,” he says, taking the photo and adding it to the pile.
You lean forward, smile turning mischievous, and prompt JJ to lay back on the bed. He chuckles and pulls you down with him, having you straddle his chest. Thumbing at the bottom of his sweater, he takes the hint and tugs it off. You sit above him the moment his stomach is bare and take a photo. He steals the camera back and halfway pulls off your own top with one hand. It’s erotic and playful and downright exciting, the flash of the camera, passing it back and forth as more and more layers are stripped.
JJ’s impatient though. He leaves the polaroid laying neglected on the bed as he leans up, kissing at your now exposed chest. You sigh and revel in the attention. Head tilting back and eyes slipping shut, fingers coming up to tangle into his hair.
“You’re so damn pretty,” he mutters against your skin. Says it like a prayer rather than a praise. “Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.”
You hum out in approval of sorts. JJ seems to take initiative with that, lying down on the comforter, hands draping down your sides, all the way until they reach your hips. The two of you battle with the shorts and panties a moment, laughing at the awkward dance of trying to get them off, and then he’s pulling you up near his face with newfound vigour. You straddle him. There’s no room for self-consciousness, because he’s eating you out like a man starved the moment that you’re on top of him. With no headboard to hold onto, you have no option but to slip one hand into his hair, the other clenching into a fist, resting on your thigh.
“Fuck, JJ,” you whine, eyes clenching shut.
The dip of his tongue teasing at your entrance, dampening your slit, tasting every inch of you without shame…It’s like you’re the fever that he can’t sweat out. You’re only half aware of how loud you are, mind buzzing, elsewhere. You rock against him, chasing the pleasure, bathing in the bliss. He’s grunting and gasping and giving you everything that you want. You need. When you come, you tumble forward, catching yourself just before your face can meet the bed. He’s finally let up for air, kissing at your inner thighs, sucking a hickey in place like claiming land.
“Jesus Christ,” you pant, catching your breath.
“Can I fuck you? Please?” JJ practically begs. There’s something of a power-trip when you have a man begging to be inside you. You nod your reply against the sheets.
“Please,” you reply.
He shifts you so he’s no longer under your legs. The dampness dries on your skin, uncomfortably sticky, but you don’t much care. There’s only a brief moment of wondering where he went. His hands are on your waist soon enough, shifting you onto your knees, face almost smushed into the sheet. A finger trails down your spine. It’s slow and taunting. You find yourself pushing your ass back, desperate for attention. If you weren’t so fucking horny and spaced, you’d be embarrassed.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” JJ mumbles. It’s like he’s not even aware he’s saying it out loud.
His pointer finger follows the dip of your butt, guides to your entrance and slips in easily, pushing against the tight walls. You whine out and push back against him. You think he maybe chuckles. Can’t be sure, because then the feeling of his cock rubbing against you has your mind focusing on far more important things.
“Shit, wait, you got a condom?”
“Don’t need it,” you say. “On the pill. We're good as long as you're clean.”
“Jesus Christ,” he practically groans. "You're so fucking perfect."
And then he’s pushing inside you, bracing himself with a mean grip on your hip. Your eyes press shut with the stretch, a dull pain outweighed by pleasure as he eases himself in. When he begins to rock, in and out and in again, it’s tortuously slow.
“Faster,” you moan.
He does as he’s told. Pounds into you, relentless and unwavering, his stamina not far from insatiable, and you’re gasping and whining and panting and moaning into the sheets, damp with your sweat. A hand reaches out, clenching tightly at the covers, and you start to beg. Beg for more, beg for release, beg for something. JJ isn’t quiet. The sounds he makes are obscene and only push you closer to the edge.
“Fuck, I can’t last,” he gasps. His pace doesn’t falter once.
“I’m close, I’m close…”
Somewhere in the haze of pure pleasure do you register the sudden bright flash of white and the rev of a printer, as JJ takes a polaroid. Though it all only half registers, the thought if enough to send you toppling over the edge. With the squeeze of your walls on his dick, JJ follows soon after, groaning as he finishes. When he pulls out, leaving your body shaking, you feel dampness running down your legs.
It’s filthy.
And fucking fantastic.
-
“Dear fucking diary,” you mumble as you pull up into the high school’s parking lot.
It was the first day of school. New year, new classes and – oh – new people. Not intimidating whatsoever.
The hurricane had wiped out cell and data services, leaving you isolated from getting in touch with the Pogues. You hadn’t seen JJ since the night of the storm. The two of you had drifted off after spending the night together and when you woke up both him and his bike was gone. It was disappointing and confusing. Then you found the shot glasses washed and drying next to the sink, the cards tidied away in the sitting room, and the bottle of stolen brandy seemingly disposed of. The polaroids are safely out of sight, hidden behind your jewellery box. When you caught a glimpse of them, you rushed to put them somewhere more private and out of sight. It felt like the most obnoxious riddle: what does it mean?
You hadn’t had chance to go to the Chateau, with your parents roping you into clean-up jobs at the houses they were flipping to sell. That led up to now, parking up and turning off the engine, hoping to find some familiar faces before the day properly began.
As you walk towards the entrance, the anxiety dulls when you spot the Twinkie – in all its battered and bruised glory – sat parked. That meant that at least John B was here. In fact, it doesn’t take you long to spot them. The Pogues are gathered around a bench: Pope sat, head in his book, and John B and Kie seemingly wrapped up in conversation. Then there’s JJ, people watching and vaping, and you feel your heart flutter and worry quell all in a matter of minutes.
“Hey!” John B calls out, spotting you. “There she is!”
“You ready for this hellhole?”
“Can’t be that bad,” you say to Kie in response, walking up. You smile at JJ. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
And…that’s it. The bell rings and Pope gets to his feet. Something tells you that he’s a stickler for being on time.
“Better get going,” John B says.
“Get this over with,” JJ adds, earning a prod from Kie.
You follow the gang inside. JJ hangs back to walk with you. He steals the piece of paper that you’d been clutching onto since you left your truck, studying your timetable.
“You got trig with Pope.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It is if you convince him to let you copy his homework,” JJ jabs. Then he hooks an arm around your shoulder and whatever panic had come from his aloof greeting lessens. “We usually meet outside at the picnic benches for lunch.”
“Sweet.”
“This is you,” JJ tells you, gesturing to a doorway.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later then,” you say, breaking out of his hold.
“Good luck, Wilmington.”
You venture into the classroom, find a seat and knuckle down for the day. When lunch comes around, you’re already drained. You'd forgotten how demanding school can be, and that’s without all the novelties that the day has brought. When you spot JJ, half asleep at the bench, head resting in his tanned arms, you feel a part of your energy revive. You take the spot beside him and rub his back gently. The gang are recounting the day so far; passing gossip about old folks and complaining about the ridiculous work load despite it literally being day one. JJ doesn’t say all that much. Just keeps dozing and lifts his head every now and then to chime in and steal a chip from your bag.
“You up for a keggar tonight?” Kiara asks you.
“Tonight?” you check.
“Yeah. First-keggar of the year. Kinda a tradition here.”
“Sure, if you guys are going.”
“Neat. We’re taking the Twinkie so we can pick you up, if you want. Around seven?”
“Sounds good,” you smile.
Not long after that, the bell chimes once more, giving a five-minute warning for the next lesson. Everyone starts to part ways. JJ hardly spares a glance as he heads off to class. You remind yourself that he’s tired and it’s been a long day for everyone, and the thought of the keggar tonight helps push you through the final few hours.
-
The smell of smoke sits faintly in the air. There’s the faintest breeze leftover from the storm. It tickles your legs as you jump out the back of the van. Kie and Pope follow, with JJ and John B climbing out the front.
“Let’s do this!” Kiara hollers.
She practically jumps onto John B’s back as the group head toward the crowd, gathered near a bonfire. There’s pairs and trios and gangs stood around, passing drinks, laughing, chatting animatedly. Passing glances made from girls to guys, and guys to guys, and girls to girls. Whooping and hollering from the frat bros. Uneasy teeters on the edge, probably a few years too young to be attending parties like these. You have your camera with you, tucked safely in your bag.
“Want some?”
There’s a water bottle held out in front of you – definitely not containing water. It’s JJ that’s offering.
“Thanks,” you say. You take a swig and wince. “Jesus, JayJ. What is that?”
“The rest of your parents brandy.”
“Ah. That’s where it went,” you reply, smirking.
“Well, couldn’t let it go to waste, could we?” he shrugs, flashing you a grin.
Things have been…weird. In only a matter of days, you and JJ were balancing on this strange line. Not quite friends but not quite lovers. You needed an answer to whatever it was, but something told you that maybe tonight may not be the night. It’s only when he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before stealing the bottle back that you feel comfortable with the conversation not happening tonight.
You follow your new friends towards some other people from school. There’s handshakes and bro hugs and easy-flowing conversation, and you try your best to not look like you’re treading water in the shoreline. You laugh at the jokes and nod along to the stories. It’s fun. But it isn’t Wilmington. You drink quickly and swiftly and hope it lessens the strange nagging in your mind.
It’s only after you’ve been wrapped up in pleasant small-talk with a girl that you recognise from your homeroom that you realise you’ve lost track of JJ. By now it’s past sunset. Everyone is rowdy enough off booze and whatever other self-medication they’ve managed to find. You yourself are feeling the buzz. It softens the senses and gives everything a youthful glow. Kiara shoots you a smile as you pass, heading over to the coolers to grab another can of seltzer. Then you take pause and pull out your camera, deciding to take advantage of the night and snap a few shots. The first is of a group of girls who are in hysterics, clinging onto each other and laughing like Hyenas. It’s a nice sight; makes you smile. Then you take a shot of a couple, sat on a log watching the sea, clearly wrapped up in their own world. As you move your camera around, focusing and refocusing on people, you find yourself drawn to a familiar head of hair. Dark blonde and tousled. JJ.
He’s laughing. Giddy like usual, eyes shimmering. He’s so beautiful. So carefree.
But he isn’t alone.
He’s laughing with someone. With a girl. And she’s glowing. She’s ethereal: pretty and perfect and poised. You feel your minds arguing. JJ is allowed to have fun – of course. He’s allowed to talk to girls. You’re not the possessive type, and nor do you have the right to be. So when her hand lands on his bicep, squeezing gently, inching closer, that final thought hits harder like a freight train. Nor do you have the right to be.
You don’t take a photo. You don’t do anything apart from leave. At least, that’s your original plan before you spot the coolers that you were originally heading for. You pocket your camera and grab a can, cracking it open and necking half of it in two large gulps. Then you finish it off. Someone spots this and whoops out, cheering you on, but you don’t feel proud. You don’t feel anything but shame and hurt and embarrassment. It’s all too familiar.
“Hey, there you are!”
You don’t have to look at him to know JJ’s voice. Only a month or so in his presence and you can already recall his intonation with ease. You dump the can and fight back a burp.
“Damn, easy there Wilmington,” he chuckles.
“Stop calling me that,” you mutter. You move to head to the Twinkie. JJ wraps his fingers around your wrist. It prompts you to turn, look up, meet his gaze.
“You good?”
The irony of his words and care make you scoff. “Seriously?”
“What’s wrong?”
You momentarily and subconsciously tug your cheek into your teeth. JJ's brows furrow deeper.
“Just forget it, JJ. I’m going home.”
“I’ll come with you. Walk you back.”
“What? Your better option turn you down?”
“The hell does that mean?” He asks. The genuine façade appears to be breaking.
“You know what it means. Fuck off.”
He lets go of your wrist, taken aback, and you don’t waste a second in heading off towards the cars. A part of you wished you had your truck, but you also know that driving in this state is far from a good idea. The slippery crunch of sand behind you  warns that JJ is following.
“Go away, JJ.”
“Can we just talk?”
“Oh? Now you wanna talk?”
“Look, drop the attitude for like one minute alright? I’m sorry I didn’t stay glued to your side the whole night! Is that what this is about?”
“No, JJ!” You stop in your tracks and whip around. You know people might be watching, but whether it’s the alcohol or the heightened emotions to blame, you don’t seem to care. “It’s about you treating me one way then acting a complete other the next day.”
“I don’t know what you mean!”
“You need me to spell it out or something?”
“Would you just—”
He cuts himself off and glances around. There’s people looking. Whispering. He takes your hand, despite your protests.
“I just wanna talk somewhere more private,” he explains.
He’s guiding you away from the keggar. It’s like how he kissed you the other night: firm but not forceful. You know you could break free if you wanted to. Eventually, the two of you find yourself away from the party, sheltered in the sand dunes. He lets go and you’re ashamed to say you miss the comfort of his weight on you.
“I don’t wanna fight with you,” JJ sighs. He holds his arms out from his sides, as if showing you that he’s unarmed. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m just…”
You take him in. His boyish charm hidden behind masculine features. Soft and salty and sweet. It’s his eyes that draw you in though, just like that first night. A wave of déjà vu hits. It passes when you see the emotion there, though. No longer humour and laughter, or curiosity. Just…him.
“I’m so confused,” you quietly admit.
Quiet. Nothing but quiet. JJ swallows.
“I am too,” he replies.
You frown. “You are?”
“I…I didn’t know where we stood after the other night. I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable by being too…Too much, too soon.”
“So you started macking on someone else behind my back?”
“I wasn’t macking on anyone—”
“That conversation looked pretty far from innocent, JJ,” you tell him, anger flashing back for a split second, like lightning in a storm.
His face falls. “You saw that?”
“Yeah, I saw that. I was looking for you and found you and her all over each other.”
His features harden. “That’s a bit unfair. We weren’t ‘all over each other’.”
“Is that the point? You sleep with me and then leave, and then act super strange at school, and now this?”
“I just—”
“Am I just some tally to you? Is that all? Because I need to know, right now. I’ve been made a fool of before and I can’t do it again, JJ. I won’t.”
There’s a moment, as JJ seems to take in your words, that you’re no longer stood in the sand dunes in Kildare. You’re in Wilmington, at a house party, crying in front of your ‘boyfriend’, waiting for him to respond to your three words. Waiting for his reply and hearing…nothing.
“I really like you,” JJ says.
You blink and he’s there again, and you’re here, and it’s different. God, you want it to be different.
“I really like you and I don’t like a lot of people and…I don’t know how to do this.”
“Not flirting with other girls is usually step one.”
“I wasn’t…She was talking to me and I was talking about you,” he admits.
Your feelings must reflect pretty well on your face because he nods, adamant.
“I was telling her about you. About how crazy I am about you. About how I can’t stop thinking about you. About how I don’t wanna scare you off by telling you all this stuff cause I’ve only known you for like a month. But I don’t know how to explain it – ever since I met you on that stupid road, I’ve been mad about you. I know that’s so fucking cringey but it’s true, alright? And I know that that whole situation probably looked wrong to you, but I need you to believe me. I don’t wanna mess this up.”
“Then why did you leave the other night?”
JJ sighs. “It was stupid. I just…I didn’t know when your parents were coming back and I didn’t want the first time for them to meet me being…that. It wasn't until I got back to John B's that I realised just how fucking dumb that was of me to leave without saying anything.”
You swallow. It seems real, feels real…But so have so many other things. “I mean, yeah. You could have woken me up.”
JJ chuckles. Shakes his head. Your eyes meet and there’s more of him there, maybe more than ever before. “Yep. See? Pretty fucking dumb.”
That does get a laugh out of you. Small and reluctant, but a laugh nonetheless.
“Can we…start over?” JJ tentatively asks. He reaches for your hand.
“Again?” you joke.
“Again. Just from the other night,” he says.
He takes a step closer. and you slowly intertwine your fingers, gently tethering yourself to him like ivy growing on a home.
“Maybe,” you reply. “Is this before or after I realised you’re a jackass?”
JJ barks out a laugh. “I think you realised that the first day we met,” JJ tells you.
You laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, after, then.”
“After,” JJ nods. "What do you say?"
You close the distance between the two of you. Push up onto your toes.
“No,” you say, lips a breadth away from his. You look into his eyes. His pretty eyes that show you your own reflection: wide and honest and hopeful. “I don’t want to start again. I like it how it is now.”
JJ closes the gap and presses a kiss to your lips. Kildare isn't Wilmington, but here, in JJ's arms, you realise that it might be even better. He kisses you again and you kiss him back.
One.
Two.
One more and – yes, perfect.
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fairydvsts-blog · 8 months
Text
𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
"i love you" in Taylor Swift's lyrics masterlist
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summary; your husband gives JJ a maintenence job at your vacation house and you spend all summer crushing over your hot new employee
warnings; characters are aged up (both characters are in their mid/late 20's), cheating, SMUT, dirty talk, some neck grabbing, female masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, praising, p in v, unprotected sex. I feel like this shit is LONG af!
a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!
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It was a very warm afternoon in Outer Banks. The sky was completely clear —there wasn't a single cloud in sight— and the sun was shining brighter than ever, but that was not what had gotten you all hot and bothered.
JJ Maybank, the new maintenance guy, was.
As you were lounging on the deck chair beside the pool, holding some random book you weren't paying attention to in your hands, you couldn't take your eyes off him. Being a hundred per cent honest, it had been that way since your husband hired him a few weeks ago. Luckily for you, neither of them seemed to have noticed yet.
You felt guilty for being attracted to him, though. You had been married for two years, and you were supposed to be in love with your husband, not craving other man's touch. But you couldn't help it. There was something about JJ that was drawing you like a moth to the flame; maybe it was his gorgeous blue eyes, his silky blonde hair, or his ripped muscles, or maybe it was all of them together, either way, you had managed to suppress your feelings for what felt like ages in order to not ruin your wonderful —but really boring— marriage.
Little did you know that your self-control was about to go to shit.
You had tried to focus on your reading for several minutes, and to date, you had failed miserably. Your mind kept going back to earlier that day, when JJ had brushed past you in the hallway, remembering how you had looked right into his alluring eyes, wishing for him to push you against the wall and to fuck you right there and then. You had to cross your legs at the thought, feeling your bikini bottom getting wetter by the second.
It was wrong and forbidden, you knew it, but in some way, that made it more exciting.
You stared at him through your sunglasses, mesmerised by the way his sweaty golden muscles glistened under the sun rays as he mowed the lawn. You were so busy imagining how his wet skin would feel against your own that you hadn't noticed the furtive looks he was giving you.
Your mouth almost watered when you saw him grabbing the hem of his sleeveless t-shirt to take it off. He threw it on the floor next to him and then he reached for the garden hose soaking himself with it to cool off. He ran his big hands through his blonde locks to accommodate his hair after that; the veins of his arms on display for you to see.
You swore you saw it all happening in slowmo. The little smirk that appeared in his face just seconds later while he shortly glanced at you gave you butterflies.
You realised something: he was doing it on purpose.
And, oh lord, that just made you want him even more. You were so horny that, for a moment, you thought you were about to literally combust in the spot.
Without giving it a second thought, you gave into the desires you had been repressing for weeks now.
You dropped your book instantly, grabbing the strings that held your blue bikini top in place to untie them. Your top dropped, leaving you exposed in front of a man that was not your husband, but you couldn't care less about that fact. His eyes widened because of the scene occurring before him, but he didn't look away at any moment, mesmerised by the sight of the woman of his dreams pouring tanning oil over her almost naked body.
He had to be delirious, right? The heat was making him delusional, that must be it.
Whether it was true or not, the boner forming in his trousers was pretty real so he picked up his t-shirt, using it to cover himself before he started walking towards the back door of the house. He had to leave before he did something stupid, like accidentally fucking his boss' wife while he was away on some business trip.
"I have finished for the day, Mrs. Ross. Do yo need something else before I go?" he asked in his way out.
He tried to keep the interaction between the two of you entirely profesional and he even resisted looking at your naked breasts. It was the hardest thing he had done in his entire life, though, because since he had started working for your husband, you were the first thing that crossed his mind when he woke up and the last thing he thought of before going to sleep.
But you knew professionalism had flew out of the window after the show you just put.
"Actually, could you rub some oil on my back?" you asked with a playful smile.
You gave him no time to answer and you handed him the tanning oil bottle, turning around after he took it, leaving him completely speechless. He gulped, his eyes looking directly at your ass, only covered by a really tiny thong, and he knew he was done for.
Leaning over you, he purred the oil on your back. When his hands touched you to spread it over your skin, you closed your eyes and almost moaned like a hormonal teenager. He gently massaged your shoulders, then your waist area and finally he reached your lower back, giving you goosebumps.
When you thought that he was over and that he was going to pull away, he surprised you by grabbing the oil bottle one more time, purring it over your legs. He started massaging your calves, moving up slowly, until he reached your upper thighs and a small moan escaped your lips; it had been too long since the last time you had sex with your husband and you felt like you could come untouched.
He leaned in, you felt his hot breath in your ear and he murmured, "You wouldn't believe how many times I have fantasised about touching you like this, Mrs. Ross."
One of his hands grabbed your ass cheek under your bikini bottom while he started placing wet kisses on your neck, making you whimper again. He had to stop, though, when you turned around to face him; he froze at the thought of you changing your mind about what was about to happen, but when you caressed his cheek and placed a gentle kiss on his neck, next to his ear, all of his fears vanished.
"And you wouldn't believe how many times I've touched myself, wishing it was your fingers instead of mine, Mr. Maybank," you whispered looking right into his blue eyes.
"Fuck."
He grabbed your neck and brought you closer to him, your mouths were so close that they lightly brushed over each other. You felt his breath becoming faster and your heart started pounding like crazy when you saw him licking his lips while looking closely at yours, but you forced yourself to pull away from his touch.
"Someone could be watching us, we should get inside," you suggested.
The last thing you wanted was your husband finding out about you and JJ. This was a one time thing, just to get him out of your system. After that, you would go back to being the perfect loving wife your husband deserved.
He nodded, agreeing with you, and helped you getting up. He reached for his t-shirt to cover your naked form with it before grabbing your hand and taking you inside.
"Be quiet," you asked, while the both of you sneaked around the massive house, trying to avoid your nosy housemaid.
You made it to your bedroom successfully and as soon as both of you were inside, JJ pushed you against the door, locking it.
"Can I kiss you?" he questioned, pressing his body against yours.
"Yes, please."
He didn't waste any more time, finally crushing your lips together. The kiss was heated, messy, hungry. His hands sneaked under your clothes to grab your waist with need, pulling you even closer to him. You felt frantic as you wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing him back like you were drowning and he was air.
His tongue slipped between your lips. completely devouring your mouth while one of his hands gripped your neck to keep your head pinned against the door; you broke the kiss, whimpering in his mouth because of the action and he kept his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as both of you tried to steady your breathing.
"Why don't you show me how you touch yourself when you think about me, baby?" he whispered.
Your heart skip a beat after hearing the words he spoke; you had never done something like that before, yet you nodded, making him smile. He kissed you gently before taking off your —his— shirt and then, only wearing your bikini thong, you moved towards the bed, where you sat.
You placed your feet over the edge of the mattress, spreading your legs, and leaned on your elbow to make yourself comfortable. His eyes never left your body, analysing every inch of your exposed skin.
"You're beautiful," he complimented you, which encouraged you to move your hand down your belly until it disappeared under your last piece of clothing.
You panted when you felt your fingertips brushing your needy pussy for the first time, biting your lip right after. Your cheeks flushed when JJ squeezed his cock over his pants while hearing and looking at you; seeing him so into it motivated you to keep going.
Your fingers started rubbing circles over your swollen clit, slowly at first, but you were so turned on that soon you sped up your movements. You were soaked and even the lightest touch sent sparks of pleasure across your entire body. A small moan escaped your lips when you traced your entrance with two fingers, slipping them inside for a second before taking them out again.
"Take this off, baby, I wanna see you," he pleaded, kneeling between your legs on the bed and grabbing the straps of the bikini.
Yo nodded, pulling your hand out of if and lifting your hips so he could take the thong off. He moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt and placed his hands over your knees to further separate your thighs.
Under his attentive gaze, you pushed your middle and ring finger inside of your pussy, curving them so you could reach that spot in the front that made you see stars with each thrust. You made sure to rub your clit with the palm of your hand, too.
"That's it, princess, you're doing so good for me," he praised you, moving one of his hands up your leg until it reached your chest, where he started touching your breasts, "Wish those where my fingers, baby."
You moaned because of his words as he unfastened his belt with his free hand, unbuttoning his trousers right after. He reached for the waistband of the pants, pulling it down so his underwear was in sight. You gasped when you were able to see the outline of his dick under his boxers; your mouth watered at how big he was.
You added a third finger, desperate for cumming; your arousal was dripping all over the bedding, making a mess.
"I'm so fucking horny for you, JJ," you told him, calling him by his name for the first time, "I'm going to cum."
You couldn't even remember the last time that you had fingered yourself so hard. Or the last time that you had been so fucking wet. He smiled, lowering his hand to touch your clit with his rough thumb, making you moan repeatedly.
You felt the familiar tingling in your lower belly, your breathing hitched and before you could stop it, you were coming harder than ever. Your muscles tightened and your legs started shaking uncontrollably. Overwhelmed by such a strong orgasm, you took out your fingers, trying to close your legs to soothe the sensation, but JJ wouldn't let you do so. Instead, he replaced your fingers with his own and he kept fucking you with them through your orgasm.
"JJ, please, stop, it's to much! Baby... Oh fuck!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his hand despite the overstimulation.
"I know you have another one in you, princess," he said, working his fingers harder and faster inside of you, "C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me."
He placed his free hand over your pelvis, putting pressure there, while he curved his fingers in his direction. In less than thirty seconds he had you coming undone again. Your vision went blank as your entire body trembled and you squirted all over him, crying out his name like a prayer.
It took you a few minutes to recover from the most explosive orgasm of your life, realising you had completely soaked everything. JJ laid down next to you the whole time and didn't stop caressing you for a second while he whispered sweet things to your ear.
You turned to look at him with the biggest smile and you said, "I didn't know I could do that."
The blonde laughed softly, burying his face on the crook of your neck, where he started placing wet kisses while his hand went to rub your pussy again, collecting your squirt to lick it off his fingers with a lustful look in his eyes.
"If I were your husband, I'd make sure you squirted every fucking day of my life, baby." Your cheeks flushed.
You bit your lip, pushing him so he was laying on his back and straddled him, grinding your wet cunt over his clothed dick; he was so hard that he thought he was gonna cum in his pants at the sight of your naked body dry humping his cock.
"Fuck me, JJ, please," you almost begged, still turned on in spite of having come twice already.
"Wait, I have to grabb a condom." He tried to stand up, but you grabbed his neck and pushed him back on the bed, stopping him.
"You don't have to wear one. I'm on the pill and I'm clean," you explained, tracing his abs with the tip of your fingers.
"I'm clean too," he promised, you lifted your hips with a smirk covering your face.
"I trust you," you said.
You helped him getting out of his clothes and your eyes widened when you finally saw his naked cock bounce back against his stomach. He was really, really big. Much bigger than your husband for sure.
You grabbed his dick on your hand, making him moan, and you stroked him a few times before brushing his swollen red tip between your folds.
"Oh my God," he groaned, his head falling back against the mattress.
You repeated the action one last time before you began to lower your hips slowly, shoving his dick inside of your pussy. You moaned at the stretch, placing your hand over his broad chest to steady yourself, and you started bouncing on his cock, trying to find a rhythm that both of you liked. When you saw him frowning and breathing fast, you knew you had found it.
Whimpering, you asked him, "Does this feel good, J?"
"Yes, so fucking good, baby." He gasped, grabbing your hips to help you ride him.
His own hips started thrusting upwards, trying to match your pace, and you couldn't help but moan when he hit the right spot again. You tightened your muscles around his dick on purpose to make him feel as good as he had made you feel before; you smiled when he cried out, pounding into you harder.
"I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that, baby," he admitted.
His hair was stuck into his forehead due to the sweat, covering his eyes a little bit, so you caressed his face and took it out of the way so that he could see you better
"Want you to come inside me, J," you asked for, "Want to feel you filling my pussy."
"Oh fuck, baby, you're so hot...I'm close," his statement encouraged you to start bouncing faster on his cock.
You whimpered when one of his hands made its way to your pussy and began to stroke your clit. You wanted, no, needed to cum again, so you took his other hand and placed it over one of your tits, which he squeezed and started playing with. At the same time, you leaned over him and placed wet kisses all over his chest, feeling his abs tightening under your palm just seconds later, announcing his orgasm.
He became a hot moaning mess under you while you kept riding him through his climax, but his thumb never left your clit as he rode it out, taking you down the cliff with him after a few seconds; your pussy clenched and your eyes rolled back due to the sensation. He sat up, kissing you one last time before he pulled out. You could feel his sticky cum come out of your pussy as you laid down next to him. JJ cuddled you, putting his head over your chest.
"I think..I think you have become my new addiction, Mrs. Ross," he confessed.
You smiled briefly before placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
"I can see you being my addiction, too, Mr. Maybank."
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its-all-or-nothing94 · 2 months
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Like a Hurricane // JJ Maybank x OC - Part 1
Summary: Sky is a Pogue through and through. No one would doubt that. But what will happen if her Dad just disappears, and after nine months, she and her brother face the consequences with DCS? Sky tries to manage her way through a literal storm but also the storm of secrets, confessions, friendships, and... summer.
Masterlist
Warnings: language, use of alcohol, talk of death
Pairing: JJ Maybank x OC
A/N: And I'm back with an all-new Outer Banks story :) Yay! I got so invested in that show that I couldn't just binge-watch the whole show, as I didn't want it to end. And yes this is more a "reimagine". Don't @ me ;)
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Summer.
Finally. We've waited a long time for the summer break to finally arrive. No more school, no more responsibilities. Not that my brother would care about that ever since our father went missing.
But hey, we're the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time all the time.
On the terrace of their new hangout, the Pogues lounged, beers in hand, basking in the golden-orange hue of the setting sun. The vibe was effortlessly relaxed and warm.
"That's what, a three-story fall to the deck?", Pope questioned, eyeing the boy teetering on the rooftop, beer casually in tow. "I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival."
The blonde girl with the side braid perched on a scaffold nearby, beer can in hand, gazed upward nonchalantly. "So?"
John B paused, wetting his finger and testing the wind. "Should I do it?"
"Yeah, jump", urged the blonde boy with the cap, sitting next to Sky.
Pope, brandishing a drill playfully, aimed it at John B. "I'll shoot you on the way down."
"You'll shoot me?"
"Yep", he replied with a shrug.
John B mimed a gun with his hand, pointing at Pope. "Pow!"
"They're gonna have Japanese toilets with towel warmers," Kiara announced, stepping out. She was striking, her light-dark skin and wavy hair catching the last light of day.
Beside Sky, JJ chuckled. "Of course. Why wouldn't they?"
Sky shared a knowing look with JJ, a sly grin on her lips. "You know what's next," she whispered, sparking a grin from JJ.
"This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtles, I guess?" Kiara lamented.
"Poor turtles", Sky responded with playful sympathy, standing up.
JJ shrugged. "I can't have cold towels."
Kiara ignored him and looked up at John B. "Can you please not kill yourself?"
Sky jumped down from her perch, finishing her beer with a swift gulp. "I mean, one less Routledge, who gives a shit?" she said sarcastically. "Oh wait, me! I would give a shit. Get the fuck down, JB!"
"Don't spill that beer. I'm not giving you another one", JJ warned his best friend.
Unfazed, John B balanced precariously, but a sudden gust of wind caught him off guard. His beer plummeted to the terrace below.
"Of course you did," JJ grumbled.
Kiara turned away, shaking her head. "Smooth..."
The blonde girl sighed and rubbed her face. "Dumbass..."
Pope, peering over the balcony, spotted a security guard emerging from a parked car.
"Hey!"
"Hey, uh, security's here," he informed the others. "Let's wrap it up."
JJ looked around, glanced quickly at Sky, and smiled. "Boys are early today."
"Humpty Dumpty, let's roll," Sky said smugly.
"Yeah," John B agreed, walking down to the others.
"Let's go, boys," Kiara smiled, and they started to hurry.
JJ, teasing as always, exclaimed: "Gary, is that you?"
"Get down", Sky said to her brother.
JJ, still in light spirits, laughs as he sees that it is indeed Gary. "Gary, good to see you, man!"
They made their way downstairs, JJ's leaking behind. "JJ!" Sky laughed and pulled him along.
With Gary's backup close behind, the Pogues had to swiftly escape, leaping fences and dodging the guards. John B had the Twinkie, his van, revved up and ready. They piled in, laughter and adrenaline mixing, as one guard gave futile chase.
"Come on guys, you're giving him a heart attack," Kiara laughs, and Sky nudges her.
In high spirits, they sped off into the summer night, the promise of adventure ahead.
The Outer Banks, Paradise on Earth.
It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island.
The nice side of the Island is called Figure Eight. It's the rich side of the island. Home of the Kooks. So, guess where we don't live.
And then, there is the south side or the Cut. Home of the working class who make a living busing tables, washing yachts, running charters.
The natural habitat of... drumroll please... the Pogues. That's us. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish. Lowest member of the food chain.
Okay. So, the downside of Pogue life is we're ignored and neglected. But the upside of Pogue life? We're ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want.
But who are we?
There's JJ. My brother's best friend since the third grade. Meaning that I couldn't get rid of him even if I wanted to.
He's about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water. Best male surfer I know. But don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't hear the end of it. Mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat, for sure. And then there's his secret – a massive, undeclared crush on me. Of course, I'm totally oblivious to it. No one knows about it. Well, that's the story, as my brother would probably kill him anyway.
Then there's Kiara, or Kie, as we call her. My best friend and the only other female Pogue apart from me. When not saving turtles or, listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo (which, for the record, I totally didn't convince her to get – okay, maybe I did), she hangs out with us. We are all not really sure why, though.
So, she's a rich kid, actually. Foot in both worlds. Her family owns The Wreck, my workplace, this Outer Banks institution. Total cash cow with the tourists. We are not really sure how her parents feel about us, well at least about the boys, as I think they kind of like me.
All of the guys had a thing for her at least once.
And then there's Pope. The brains of the operation... finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And probably the smartest person I know. He's a little bit of a weirdo, to be honest. His father's this legendary character, Heyward. Anything you wanted on the island, Heyward could get for you.
Now, I'm not sure Heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. He was a Pogue, just like the rest of us.
There's John B – my twin brother. At first glance, no one would peg us as twins. John B, with his dark hair and deep-set eyes, starkly contrasts my light blonde hair and grey eyes. But beneath these superficial differences lies an unbreakable bond. John B and I have always been incredibly close, sharing a connection that goes beyond mere appearances. He's the undisputed leader of the Pogues, a role he takes as naturally as breathing. In his leadership, there's a sense of adventure, a hint of recklessness, and a deep-seated loyalty that binds all of us together. His presence is both a guiding force and a constant reminder of the unspoken understanding and support we share as twins.
And then there's me, Skylar Artemis Routledge. Or Sky. Talk about a mouthful of a name, right? Thanks a bunch, Mom and Dad. As I mentioned earlier, I'm the younger twin sister of John B – younger by a mere four minutes, a fact he never lets me forget, flaunting it like a badge of honor. My world? It revolves around the thrill of surfing, the freedom of skating, and, of course, my fiercely loyal band of friends. Oh, and about the infamous "no Pogue on Pogue macking" rule? Guilty as charged. That's on me. Or, more accurately, it's because of my overprotective brother, who's made it crystal clear: nobody messes with his "baby sister." It's a title I wear with a mix of annoyance and affection, but hey, that's family for you.
John B and I call an old fish shack on the marsh our home, fondly nicknamed "The Chateau" by our dad. That's how he always referred to it, with a hint of irony and a lot of love. Our dad... he vanished nine months ago while chasing the legend of a shipwreck. In this day and age, who just disappears at sea?
I miss him every single day. John B does, too, the weight of his absence hanging silently between us.
Our mom is a different story. She left when we were just three, a distant memory more than a mother. Last I heard of her, she was in Colorado, or at least I think it was Colorado.
But we've still got Uncle T. Ever since Dad's disappearance, he's been our so-called legal guardian. Right now, he's off in Mississippi, busy building houses. That leaves just John B and me free to roam with our friends, masters of our own little world.
Three months after Dad was declared missing, they wanted to pronounce him dead officially. But John B wouldn’t sign the papers. He's adamant that there's no giving up until he sees a body. As for me... well, as three months stretched into six, my hope quietly faded away. I hate to admit it, but I've stopped expecting a miracle.
John B and Sky found themselves seated in the stark, clinical setting of the sheriff's office, facing a social worker named Cheryl. Her gaze fixed on the twins, who wore expressions of casual, almost practiced boredom.
"John, Skylar, it's come to our attention that you're unemancipated minors living on your own," Cheryl began. At this, John B and Sky shared a quick, knowing glance before bursting into laughter.
"No... Not really," Sky drawled, slouching further in her chair, her face etched with defiance.
"No," echoed John B, shaking his head.
Cheryl sighed deeply, intertwining her fingers with a look of forced patience. "I need honesty to help you two. That's what we're aiming for, right?" she asked, her eyes shifting between the twins.
"We're being honest," John B insisted as Sky puckered her lips in a mock pout.
All too aware of the teenagers' evasiveness, Cheryl let out another sigh. "Okay, then, when's the last time either of you spoke to your uncle?"
The twins exchanged another glance, their silent communication a testament to their unspoken bond.
Sky glanced at her empty wrist. "Uh... 34 minutes ago, to be exact."
"And when did you last see him?"
This time, John B chimed in. "Two hours and, uh... 43 minutes ago?"
Sky couldn't help but chuckle, biting her lip – a habitual gesture.
"John... Skylar, we're planning to visit tomorrow to speak with your uncle. If he's not there, we'll have to proceed with foster care arrangements," Cheryl explained, her tone a mix of sternness and concern. Sky scoffed at the notion. "I assure you, our goal is to find you both a safe, loving home."
They actually thought we were gonna be happy to hear that. Bullshit! I knew that they would separate us, and, almost as bad, they would get us to the mainland.
And that's where this story starts. Our dad missing, our uncle MIA, and the bride of Frankenstein threatening us with foster care.
That evening, the Pogues sat by a fire at the beach. They had fun, but one was missing. John B sat a bit further away and gave in to his thoughts. Sky sat next to JJ, who causally had his arm around her shoulders.
"What's up with him?" JJ asked, and Pope and Kie were looking at Sky.
She sighed and shrugged. "It's his way of coping, I guess... They-" She gulped and sighed again. "They want to swing by tomorrow, talk to Uncle T."
JJ pulled Sky closer. "Come on, they can't just drag your asses away. You're Pogues. You belong here."
Sky's smile faded a little. "Tell that to them."
JJ's smile faded as well, as he looked down at the blonde next to him. Kiara couldn't help but smile at the sight. She realized, for some time now, how much JJ liked Sky. Not just liked, but liked.
"Have you heard about the hurricane? It's heading right towards us", Pope then said and showed them the news channel on his phone, and Sky looked at him, sighing.
She wiggled out of JJ's arm and stood up. "Well, at least one good thing comes of it." She took out her phone, and the others looked at her, confused.
"DCS, how can I help you?" Sky tipped her finger to her lips. "Yeah, uh... I think we have to reschedule."
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As Sky was at home later, thunder was crackling, and the wind took off. JJ sat on her porch on his phone. Sky just looked out to the ocean, wondering where her brother was.
"Hey yo, you know where John B is?" she turned and looked at JJ, who looked up at her.
He shrugged. "Nah, but my guess..." He pointed his head towards the ocean.
"He's really going for it, huh?" Sky muttered under her breath, turning back to the sea again.
JJ stood up and put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Barb. He's gonna be fine."
Barb. That was another thing. JJ called me that for as long as I can remember. Well, at first, it was Surfer Barbie, what many people call me, to be honest, so he just called me Barbie, and that morphed into Barb. He's the only one who calls me that.
Sky sighed once again and turned, walking into the Chateau. JJ looked after her with a questioning look, before he sat back down on the porch.
Shortly after, Sky walked out again with a Whiskey and two glasses. "Might as well..."
She poured some of the brown liqueur into the glasses and slid one over to JJ. He grinned at Sky and took it into his hand.
"The good glasses? What's the occasion?" he asked and winked at her.
"Don't know... When Aggie hits, they might break anyway..."
They clinked the glasses together and smiled at each other before taking a sip.
Forty-five minutes later, the almost full bottle was empty, and Sky sat on the porch bench with JJ, her legs over his lap. JJ has his hands on her shins and caresses them absently.
The conversation, deep and meandering under the influence of alcohol, takes a turn as JJ gazes into the distance, where lightning from the approaching Hurricane Agatha flickers ominously. "Barb," he slurs slightly, "have you ever thought about, you know, dating one of us Pogues? Like, hypothetically speaking?"
Sky, her head leaning back, a relaxed smile on her face, responds with a teasing lilt, "JJ, you know the rule. No Pogue on Pogue macking. John B made it pretty clear."
But JJ is undeterred, his eyes intense. "That rule is bullshit. It's just something John B came up with, so we don't mack on you. But seriously, what if? What if the rule didn't exist?"
Sky turns to face him, her expression softening in the dim porch light. "What if, huh?" she muses, the alcohol making her thoughts swim. "I don't know, JJ. It's a weird thought. We're like... family, you know?"
JJ nods, serious. "Yeah, I know. But sometimes, I think, 'What if.' What if the person you're supposed to be with is right in front of you, and you're just too blind to see it because of some stupid rule?"
The confession, raw and honest, hangs between them. Sky looks into JJ's eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity within. "JJ, are you asking if I've ever thought about you that way?" she whispers, the storm's energy charging the air around them.
JJ meets her gaze, his voice earnest. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm tired of pretending that I haven't thought about it. About you."
The intensity of the moment builds, mirroring the storm's crescendo. But then, Sky, sensing the conversation veering into serious territory that she's not ready to navigate, especially not under the influence, lets out a laugh. It's light, an attempt to diffuse the tension.
"JJ, you're drunk, and your emotions are all over the place. It's just the whiskey talking."
JJ's gaze lingers on her, a mix of longing and frustration in his eyes. "Maybe," he concedes, "but what if it's not? What if—"
Skye cuts him off with a light laugh, leaning in to bump her shoulder against his. "Oi, Bandolero, trust me. You're going to wake up tomorrow and realize you were just feeling extra sentimental because of the storm and the whiskey."
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A little later, as the conversation drifted and the storm raged outside, Sky and JJ succumbed to sleep on the porch. Suddenly, Sky felt a persistent poking at her cheek.
Blearily opening her eyes, she was jolted awake by the looming figure before her, illuminated starkly by a flash of lightning.
"Jesus fucking Christ, are you out of your damn mind?" Sky exclaimed, her words directed at her drenched brother, who stood before her, surfboard in tow.
The commotion roused JJ, who blinked groggily at John B.
"That's your concern? What the hell are you guys still doing out here? Get inside!" John B barked, hauling Sky to her feet.
Sky, unimpressed, retorted as she was ushered inside, "Look who's talking, big bro. Did you seriously try to surf in this mess?" Behind them, JJ, barely awake, stumbled into the living room, collapsing onto the pull-out couch.
John B paused, eyeing his best friend's form. "What happened to him?" he asked, amusement lacing his voice.
Sky, smirking, replied as she headed to her room, "Dad's Highland Park. Turns out our Bandolero over there isn't as seasoned a drinker as he likes to claim." She paused at her door, glancing back at John B. "Good night."
"Night," he responded, his smile lingering as he made his way to his own room.
30 notes · View notes
rtxler · 1 year
Text
breathe
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Summary: After a run-in with her ex she calls the last person she should have.
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader, Rafe Cameron x OC (EX/implied)
Word count: 3.1k
in the same universe as mistake but both part of my JJ Maybank fic WHY NOT? on wattpad, which would mean a lot if you check out
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Closing her bedroom door she lets out a tired sigh of release as she leans back against it slowly removing her shoes and kicking them to the side, then stumbles over to her en suite, removing her earrings with a groan and dumping them into a bowl, taking a minute to look at herself in the mirror her finger travelling and assessing over every line or crease visible with even after the meal she just had her thoughts keep bouncing back to a particular pogue specifically the night they had together. "Fuck, you need to get shit together," stalking back into her room towards her chest or draws, "and start working out again but one day at a time."
She changes out of her dress leaving her just in her underwear, reaching towards to draw but then jumping at the sound of a knock against her bay window. Groaning she throws on a silk nightie, "What the fuck, i swear Maddy if you forgot your jacket or something again," Quickly going over to the window to pull back the heavy curtain ready to fully go off on her best friend but stopping in her tracks as instead of seeing a girl with a shit eating grin she's greeted with literally the last person she wanted to see. Ever.
"Rafe? What the fuck."
Liliya stood shocked staring at her ex-boyfriend precariously crouching on the ledge outside her window.
"OPEN THE WINDOW" he mouths aggressively while pointing towards the lock.
She begins to slowly nod in understanding, "Oh okay.... NO. You perv, go away."
"Liliya i'm not joking i will stay here until let me in so unless you want to explain to your parents why a boy is climbing to your room," at that the blonde girl rolled her eyes at his muffled voice and turned away beginning to walk back to her bed, "or maybe even having to explain to your new friends why i was here all night." At that she stopped, looking back over her shoulder to be greeted with the smug smile of Rafe Cameron. "Yeah i know about that, god I've heard about girls lowering there standards after a break up but Jesus have some dignity."
As a flurry of annoyance casts through her body she storms back to aggressively open her window. "Are you stalking me?" Her question is momentarily ignored as the boy decides to quickly take the opening clambering into the girls bedroom.
"God your self obsessed i happened to be taking a walk and saw you with some peculiar company" Dusting himself as he met the unimpressed glare of his ex. "Well, that and you still have me on find your friends."
"Oh my god, your such a prick." She scoffs looking up to her ceiling in disbelief.
"Well that's why you loved me."
"Did i?"
"Yeah because just 'cuz you've got everyone else fooled that your this impenetrable force which nothing can break," he emphasis with a wide gesture ending his spiel with his hands on his hips. "you've got a tell."
"Really and what's that." She nods condescendingly walking forward with her head up.
He meets her in the middle till their faces were inches apart, making Liliya flinch inwardly while trying to maintain her outward facade.
Ducking down till his lips graze her ear "Your eyes," he voice rasps sending a shiver down her spine, "you can never hide your eyes." brushing his nose against hers. "especially from me." lifting a singular finger down her cheek.
At that Liliya snaps out of it grabbing his hand pushing it away dodging around him, creating a good couple of metres between them.
"Aw come on, what you didn't want to have a walk down memory lane babe?"
She trudges past him, shoulder checking him in the process, leaning against the open window scoffing. "Please with you Rafe its more of a sketchy dark alley. And do not call me that, i mean even when we were dating it was crossing a line, now please, get. The hell. Out."
"Okay, okay," raising his hands up in defense as he strolls over. " but ah nice to see nothing changed." looking across her room, as he's crouched half-way out the window, landing on her under wear hanging half out of her draw, earning him, unsurprisingly, a hard shove fully out the room, the window slamming shut and the blinds pulled behind him.
Liliya rests against the window closing her eyes as she releases a big sigh, wrapping her arms 'round herself, lightly hitting her head repeatedly against the glass. "God i'm so glad i dumped that piece of shit."
Pulling out her phone with shaky hands ready to message Maddy for support when she notices an unread text sent earlier from an unknown number.
'Im looking at u right now not having a clue Ive swiped your phone for a bit which is bit concerning u need to smarten up if you wanna catch a stalker.
J'
"God he has awful grammar." Liliya muses, but still not managing to move the small smile from her features.
She stands there for a couple minutes her fingers ghosting over the keyboard thinking through all the reasons was what she was thinking was a bad a idea, and that no matter what she wanted now she would be kicking herself in the morning. But even with those thoughts swimming around her head she still somehow typed out a response.
'You still wanna come in?'
Sucking in a breathe she waits impatiently as the response bubble pops up and down, and then back up again, Jesus this boy needs to make up his mind, until finally.
'what food do u have'
'oh my god' -----------
"Why the hell are you calling me, where are you?" The kook answers laying down on her bed, regretting all past life decisions leading to this exact moment where she was nervous about meeting a freaking pogue in her own home.
"Oh hi JJ, how are you doing? Oh thanks Liliya i'm doing great after climbing a TEN FOOT GATE!......... I'm outside by the way." An out of breathe voice echos around her room.
She sits up at that, pulling down her shirt as she re-adjusts herself. "Oh shit hi, just knock on the front door weirdo."
"What about your parents?"
"What about them? They don't bite." She pushes herself off the bed moving to her vanity table, placing her phone on a stack of books off on the side.
"Well they made you so i doubt that." He snarks back.
"Big words from the guy standing outside the house." And with that she hangs up as she checks out her reflection smoothing down her hair and re-applying lip gloss, reasoning that she has an image to maintain for everyone to see not just specifically the blonde boy currently at her doorstep.
She rushes down stairs then breaks into a calm walk to the front door preparing herself by giving her look a second glance over in the hallway mirror.
"You okay sweetheart?" Her dads voice breaking out of her panic.
"What?" She responds quickly facing her father's head that was sticking out of the kitchen. "Yeah just a friends coming to hang out for a bit."
"A friend? Maddy?" He start to lean on the doorway. "Am i going mad or wasn't she just here."
"No it's not Maddy."
"Sarah?"
"No."
"Then-"
"Just a new friend okay, he's hungry so we'll just snack for a bit." She spits wondering what the hell was taking JJ so long to walk from one end of a driveway to another.
"He?" Peaking her dads attention. "Wow, moving on from Cameron quick." He mutters as he heads back into the kitchen.
"Dad, no it's not like that." Liliya whines her fingers starting to rub circles on her temple.
"Oh i didn't mean it as a bad thing sweetheart, i mean i never liked that boy anyway y'know and you're young..."
Thankfully before David Woods could finish that sentence a knock from the front door saved Liliya death by embarrassment.
"Oh thank god." She jumps at the chance to exit her situation yanking the door open to meet the smiling face of JJ Maybank. "Where were you walking from Germany?" Yanking him through the door.
"Heads up." Were the only words JJ heard as he was pulled into the grand foyer before he was smacked by a packet of popcorn.
"Ow."
Liliya let out a short laugh at the shock on the boys face before facing her dad who was moving across to the teens. "Is mom around?"
"Oh sorry kid, Lily said you were hungry and nah don't worry it, you moms already deep into her desperate housewives binge, ugh y'know." throwing his hands up in fake exasperation.
"You really want to go watch it with her huh." She muses crossing her arms.
"Yeah, yes i do, so i'm just gonna grab this thank you" snatching the bag from the floor but halfway up the stairs he suddenly stops to turn around to face the two teens "Right um young lady, stay downstairs okay? But if not y'know door open and six feet apart at all times, okay." He says putting a stern face on before rushing back up stairs, leaving the pogue and the kook alone at last.
JJ kisses teeth a couple times. "Soooo food?"
"God, you're like a stray, come on this way". Walking past him to the entrance of the kitchen. "Do want anything or just gonna look around like a lost soul?" She says as she notices JJs gaze scanning his surroundings.
"Sorry just that your foyer is like my entire house and this kitchen, i mean are you housing an orphanage why is there so much?"
"Well as cute as this whole finding civilisation bit is i'm already bored so" She muses, starting to rummage through a couple cupboards
"You think i'm cute?"
"Pushing your luck stalker, okay here we go I've got sweet chilli peanuts, enough chips to choke an army and some ice cream in the freezer i think."
"Oooh yes please let me just get this," leaning over her shoulder to reach the aforementioned bags. "and definitely grab the ice cream."
"Are you actually starving, like should i be concerned?" she asks open the freezer door.
"No just i'm always hungry and," quickly pulling out a small bag from his back pocket with his free hand. "especially after i smoke."
"No charge?" Her face pokes ups as she leans on the freezer door back slightly arched causing the boy in front of her to swallow harshly.
"Aw for you baby? Never."
"And you ruined it." She slams the door shut swiftly grabbing a couple spoons and heading towards the exit. "Come on follow me, do not wonder." She remarks without even looking at him.
"Yes ma'am."
_____________
Heading into the Liliya Wood's bedroom was an extremely surreal moment for the pogue, for so many years this had been seen as untouchable but now he's following after her and her ice cream like a lost puppy, watching as she dumps the carton and spoons on her bed, along with taking the packets out of JJ's hands.
He takes that time to have a tiny glance around her room noticing first what he would of expected from the kook queen, a large King sized bed, a vanity mirror with lightbulbs surrounded that looked like they could blind both of them, a large walk in wardrobe and a pristine white tiled en-suite. But what also caught the blond boys attention was other little details the managed to slip through the cracks of her spotless facade, like the old stickers of Moshi monsters that were failed to be scraped off her bed frame or the stack of fantasy books piled precariously on the edge of her table.
"JJ?" Liliya questions from her seat against the broad fabric headboard.
"Yeah right let me just," throwing her the bag and lighter. "Ta da, for you madame."
"Why thank you kind sir, rolled and ready to go already eh."
"Well i aim to please." He smirks, adding a little wink.
"Hm okay big guy." She takes out a joint placing it haphazardly in between her lips as she fumbled for the cheap lighter. "Lets see how you do tonight."
"How i'll do?" He smirks watching Liliya strike the lighter in frustration. "Is this some kinda roleplay, 'cuz let me tell you from real experience i am a very bad student." Ending the sentence with a flourish as he pops open a packet of chips, not waiting a second to start piling them into his mouth.
"No? Really? Well colour me surprised." She mumbled finally getting a light. "Ah yes." As she took her first hit she let her posture go slack, sinking in to the mattress, flinching as the boy jumps next to her also reaching for the joint in her hand.
"Come on, unless you're keeping it all to yourself huh, miss greedy guts." Making her huff and reluctantly pass it over to him.
"Oh i'm sorry but you already looked so relaxed," Looking the pogue up and down, scanning his scruffy clothing. "almost too relaxed."
"Really, well if your sorry then i'm expecting some reparation" He suggests as he takes a breathe.
She takes the beat of silence to look over him, not like before with a forced critical eye to make a snarky remark, but with only the intent to see him.
"Hmmm well of course i'll share with you, what do take me for." Watching the shadows dance over his face, forcing the words out as a breathe gets caught in her throat.
"From what I've seen a perfect little kook angel." He repositions himself to get more comfy, while also subtly moving himself closer to her, looking up to her.
"Oh shut up, and just," she moves in one fast motion, placing her hands on his shoulders, lifting herself over him to land in a straddling position. "breathe." She doesn't know what came over her, a fog was covering her normal reasoning, only picking up on the boy, a very attractive one at that, in front of her.
Smoke slowly passes between their mouths, their eye-contact never breaking as even though they were only a couple inches or so away from each other, they moved slowly forward gravitating towards each other.
JJ couldn't take his eyes of the image in front of him, her hair cascading down framing the soft features of her face, the light reflecting off of it, creating a halo effect above her. Her plump lips remaining open when the smoke had passed, seeming only remain open to continue to entrance him.
"You are so beautiful." He didn't even realise he vocalised his thoughts till he watched the girl on top of him finally blink and break out of their shared trance.
"Um," Looking down it seems as she just noticed how they were positioned , extracting herself while making minimal contact with him beneath her.
"Why'd you invite me over?" He figures if the mood is already gone, he might as well get some answers.
"You practically begged me to, remember?" She scoffed, turning a complete 180 from her behaviour just a few moments ago.
"Yeah and you're Liliya Woods, iv'e seen you brutally turn down a guy in a wheelchair."
"And why wouldn't i treat him like everyone else?" Looking offended at the remark.
"Exactly, when i dropped you off it seemed like i was the last person you would let in your house and now, here we are." Staring at her, gesturing to the room around them, but only receiving a blank stare in return. "Come on, look what i got you." He gestures the joint currently sitting in her hand.
"Are you forgetting the mountain of my snacks sitting around us?"
"...Liliya."
"I got a surprise visit." She mutters, unconsciously wrapping her arms around herself, carefully positioning the joint away from her clothes.
"Oh," He looks down awkwardly. "Like a monthly thing?"
At that comment she hits him firmly in the shoulder. "No you moron, Rafe."
"Ow," Cradling his arm but then admits with a quick nod. "Well that is much worse."
"Yeah." She scoffs. "He is."
Leaning closer to the girl, he tries to make eye contact as she stares off into space. "Are you okay?"
Sniffs, and sits up noticing how close the pair become again, cursing the fact she thought this was a good idea, trying to pull herself back into some idea of decency not understanding how he managed to get her guard down so easily. "Yeah just needed to calm down from seeing my ex with anger issues pop up in my window. like a delusional meerkat"
"Window? That window." Pointing to one across the room.
"Yes. Why are you smiling like that?."
"Well it's nice to know i'm not the only one resigned to climbing for an entrance."
"You chose to do that, literally just could've texted me to open the gate." She gasps in a state of exasperation.
Her face scrunches in frustration as she stares at him, he brushes his finger down her cheek, gently as if he was touching the most precious thing imaginable to him.
"What the hell are you doing." Although it was meant as a threat, with the light whisper it came out as, it could only been seen as a look of shock.
"You get a little crease in your brow when your worked up." Dropping his hand to her arm. "Did you know that."
"Shut up." She lifts his hand off, siting forward to wrap her arms around herself again.
"You say that a lot." He says trying to hide his disappointment.
"Yet you're still talking."
"Hmm, and will i ever stop? We may never know."
With the bubble they had created popped Liliya knew that the smart thing to do was to make sure that no lapse of judgement would occur. Again. "Well it's late so..."
"Yeah of course right." He sits up off the bed pulling his shirt from where it had ridden up. "Um next time you get some late night critter," pointing to the window with his head. "Just let me know
"And what would you do... what exactly." Rolling her eyes not believing the peacocking happening in front of her.
"Hey i'm like a 90% sure i could take him."
"Sure sweetie." She teased, watching him walk to the door.
"Get a good night sleep, you'll need it." He shouts over his shoulder.
"For what?"
"For when i pick you up tomorrow."
"Excuse me?"
"Hey don't get your panties in a twist, sounds like you don't wanna find some gold."
"Right, the gold and why do you want me to be there? I thought this was some sad little pogue fantasy." Nodding out the window as if were all beneath her.
"Two reasons, one 'cuz i want to see your reaction when your realise it's not a fairy tale." He grins opening the door to exit.
"Hey?" The pogues head pop round the door with a questioning look. "Whats number two?
"Well... i like.." He cuts off at that, seeming to catch himself while starting at the tussled hair girl, "I like.. watching stuck up kooks see the real world."
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dustbunniess · 7 months
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jj maybank moodboard
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yoursecrett · 2 years
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The Chase
Rafe Cameron x Reader (Season 2)
Contents: Blackmail, gaslighting, fighting, forced love, drowning, kidnapped.
Summary: You were everything Rafe wanted, but Rafe was everything you did not want… but Rafe being Rafe he couldn’t let that happen, you were perfect for each other, he knew it would take time for you to understand… he would make you understand.
Part 2 , Part3
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***********************
You watched as he paced back and forth in front of you, brushing his hand through his hair every few minutes, you had no clue how long you had been trapped in this room, all you knew is that once you began running you can’t stop.
“You need to start respecting me!” Rafe says stopping mid pace turning to you “if we are going to be in a happy, healthy relationship you need to start being good” he says walking towards you.
You were intimidated by him, he knew this no matter how much you hid it on your face, he noticed your body slowly cower away, he was just points away from having you were he needed you to be.
“We are not in a relationship” you state standing up, feeling confidence run through your body, but feeling it slowly fading once Rafe began chuckling “You really making yourself believe that aren’t you, Y/n tell me who else is going to love you, JJ couldn’t care less about you” Rafe mutters grabbing your face softly making you look up at him.
“You and I go so well together, now say it back to me baby” you felt his grip tighten on your face, you needed to get out so you did the only thing they came to mind, you lifted your knee up kicking him hard between his legs.
He let go of your face groaning in pain bending down slightly, you took that as your time to run so you did, you had never ran so fast in your life, you heard Rafe shouting your name, his footsteps not so far behind you.
But you didn’t stop you ran seeing the door, you hadn’t seen daylight in so long, running outside you felt the cold air hit your bare skin, the adrenaline didn’t leave your body as you continued to run as fast as you could.
You heard tyres skidding behind you, you were beginning to hopefully see someone you knew, you knew it was early as the sun was just beginning to rise, you you heard the car stop as you ran into dead end
“Shit” you mutter fear running through your body, you felt his hands tightly grab your forearms turning you to face him “you really thought you could get away” he mutters anger clear on his face.
“I’m S-Sorry” you couldn’t help stuttering over yourself “I -I’m s” he cut you off scoffing “what you scared now that I got you” he says smirking as he slammed your into the stand behind you “what do you think I should do, forget about this little incident or punish you” he questions twirling your hair around between his fingers
“You know what I will give you 5 seconds to answer” he says beginning to count down, you couldn’t speak too scared to say the wrong thing.
Rafe enjoyed playing games with you, you picked the wrong thing he would do worse “5,4,3,2,1 damn Y/n” he says fake frowning before tipping you backwards, you the water cover your body as he held you under, you closed your eyes and covered your mouth tightly as you scratched at his arms.
You breathed out loudly as he pulled you up “R-Rafe please” you gasp out hearing him laugh as he pushed you back under “you need to start listening to me, and until you do that we are going to end up in situations like this all the time” you heard him as you began to lose consciousness, your body falling weak as you stopped scratching him.
You suddenly felt air enter your body again, your body falling right into Rafe’s chest, you felt his fingers running through your hair “hopefully that will tire you out for the rest of the day hey” he says pulling your up, your legs weak making him pull you into him once again.
“I’m telling you John B, I know he has her” you heard JJ say close by to you, you felt Rafe tense as he covers your mouth with his hand pulling you behind the wall “you make a noise I’ll kill you” you watched as your two best friends walked past.
Knowing you couldn’t say or do anything you began to cry “shhh baby” you heard Rafe whisper into your ear, you closed your eyes tightly as you watched them disappear out of sight “good girl, now let’s get you home” he says picking you up bridle style, you felt yourself beginning to slowly lose consciousness as he places you into the back of his car.
“Rafe” you heard JJ’s voice, you tried to gain the energy to talk or move but you were just too tired, heard the car door shut “What” you heard Rafe say
“Hey um I was just wondering if you needed anywhere cleaning in your house, you see John B and I have began a cleaning service you know make a little money” before JJ could finish his sentence Rafe cut him off.
“You are really boring me, unlike some I’m actually busy” he says I could see him climb into the drivers seat, slamming the door shut “I know you have her” JJ shouts trying to open the back door, Rafe driving away quickly
“You see the shit you get me into!!” Rafe shouts slamming his hands onto the steering wheel and that was when it all turned black.
___________________
“Hey wake up” you heard a deep voice say, your eyes opening again, you wanted to scream, to cry once you realised you were back into the room, you tried to move only to realise one of your arms were connected to a metal chain that was connected to the wall.
“It is only until you learn that it is not okay to run away” he says softly bending down placing the plate of toast in front of you “I wanted to talk you, so the family decided they want to take a trip to the Bahamas, remember last time we went you loved it, they have invited us to go again and I have said yes”
You didn’t look up at him but instead kept your eyes on the wooden floor “you not talking today” he speaks up once again “huh okay then” you heard his footsteps move away from from, the door slamming shut as he leaves.
You couldn’t help but look at the chain once again “like a fucking dog” you muttered kicking the plate away from you.
You loved Rafe once, he used to be sweet, charming and caring… but you began to realise that it was just a front.
__Flashback 1 year ago__
“JJ do you want a drink” you question the already drunk JJ, he turns to you a smiles brightly “of course I do baby, you treat me too well” he says slurring, you couldn’t help but blush at his words as you walk away towards the drinks table.
You were focused on trying not the spill the drink as you poured it into the two cups “Hey Pogue” you heard a deep voice say beside you causing you to turn, and low and behold there stood the Kook Prince you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, looking back at the cups
“Hey Kook” you say back to him hearing a soft chuckle leave his lips “you know Y/n/n” you cut him off quickly “it’s Y/n, only my friends call me Y/n/n” you say watching a smirk taking over his emotionless face.
“You are right, I apologise Y/n, I must say I always thought you and JJ were dating” he says taking one of the drinks from my hand beginning to sip it “excuse me that was not for you” I say glaring at him.
“You won’t be needing it, it seems as though JJ has become distracted” he says causing you to turn around and look in the direction he had been staring at.
And there JJ was kissing a girl against The Twinkie, before they both disappeared behind it, you wouldn’t show it but you felt you felt sad, jealous, heartbreak… you and JJ had never slept together, but you had kissed, you constantly flirt, sleep in the same bed, go to each other when one of you are sad, although you weren’t officially together it felt as though you were and many though it too.
“Are you okay” Rafe questions breaking you out of your thoughts, you turn to him softly seeing a concerned look on his face, you smile softly sipping your drink “Of course I’m fine” you watched the smirk widen on his face.
“Where is the rest of your group” he questions “JohnB is sick, Pope is busy with his dad doing deliveries and Kiara is working… JJ did beg me to come here only to abandon me an hour in” you mutter the last bit looking around the beach.
“You know I don’t usually do this but surprisingly I don’t think you are that bad for pogue, so the offer is there if you want to come join my friends and I around the fire or you can go home and spend the rest of your Friday night and bored” he says raising his eyebrows
You knew it would be stupid to accept Rafe’s offer, your friends would go mad if they knew, but then again you did not want to go home and spend Friday night alone.
“I guess I will take you up on that offer, but not a word to any of my friends” You say smiling softly, Rafe nodding as he raps his arm around your shoulder softy as you both walk to the fire.
“What’s up guys you all know Y/n” he says bringing everyone’s attention to you both, they smiled at you making you relax
“Y/n you should answer this question, but this argument to rest… do you think aliens exist?” Topper questions causing everyone to turn to you once again.
“I believe anything could exist, with the amount of planets and universes that have yet to be explored or even discovered whose to say there is no life out there, many things have happened out of in space and can’t even be explained by us humans” you say watching them nod and begin discussing one again.
“You know what I think you have just made many of them believe in aliens” he mumbles into your ear, you smiled softly turning to him his arm slowly moving down to your waist.
“Well maybe that will keep them entertained for a while” you say raising your eyebrows softly “I reckon it will” he mutters once again moving his face slowly closer to yours.
“Maybe that’s a good thing” you say following his actions as his arm moves back up to your shoulder slowly pulling you into him more, pressing a soft peck to your lips.
You knew you wasn’t thinking straight at the moment, but it was impossible too, you knew you hated Rafe but the one you were standing with right now was completely different to the one you were used too.
“How about we just leave them to it” he questions moving back, you glanced looking at the others still deep in the conversation before turning back Rafe “I think we should”
His arm moves from your shoulders once again but this time his hand grabbing your free hand pulling you away from the group, you both walked for what seemed like 5 minutes, you couldn’t head music or voices but you could see the fire in the distance.
“You know Y/n I must say don’t get me wrong here, I never would of thought you would catch my attention like you have done tonight” he says sitting down the sand, you following his actions.
“Oh really I must say I never thought I would be sat here with Rafe Cameron, but how things change” you say downing the rest of your drink.
“You look beautiful tonight” he says turning towards you, you couldn’t help but blush it was rare for Rafe Cameron to compliment anyone never mind a pogue.
“Thank you, you look very attractive yourself” you say hearing him chuckle “thank you, you know you really caught my attention back there with your space theory, would you elaborate” he says
I nod softly laying down, placing my hand up on my hand keeping my head up “Many planets have been discovered as you know Venus, Jupiter etc although we know a little bit about each other it has never fully been discovered, nobody has even landed on there to see if there is life, there are so many planets light years away that haven’t even been seen, plus the amount of universes that look like ours and people do not believe there is life” you say becoming too rapped up in your theory, you look up at Rafe seeing him watching you with a soft smile on his face.
“Sorry I got way to caught up in that” you say smiling softly, he copies your position keeping his eyes on you “keep going it’s rather interesting”
“All I am saying there is no way there is only us living, do you agree” you say keeping the eye contact with him “absolutely I feel as though I would be insane if I disagreed with you right now” he says chuckling
“People are allowed their own opinions” you say laughing softly “oh yeah what is your opinion on me” he says raising his eyebrows “hmm would you be upset if I told you the truth”
“Do your worst” he says leaning back watching me “Well before tonight I thought the Rafe Cameron was a stuck up, money eating, attention seeker who didn’t care about anyone but himself” you say turning back to him “And after tonight?” He questions again
“I don’t think you are that bad, I would say you are rather sweet and charming” you watched the smile reappear on his face as he moved closer to you once again “charming and sweet hey”
You smiled softly “and extremely confident I forgot to add that” you say as he began moving his face closer to yours again before stopping, your noises slightly touching.
“How about you give me a kiss” he says looking down at your lips before looking back into your eyes “you would like that wouldn’t you” you say teasing his slightly
“I would” he says that was all it took for your lips to smash it together, you both had been waiting for each to make the move all night and now it finally happened.
You felt Rafes hand move to the back of your neck deepening the kiss, his lips were soft, they felt right against yours, you felt a little sad when he pulled away.
“How about we head back to the party” he says standing up fixing his shirt, you couldn’t help but over think
‘Am i a bad kisser’ ‘does he think I’m weird’
His chuckle cut you out of your thoughts “I can tell you are overthinking, I have a lot of respect for you Y/n, I think you are a beautiful girl… it would be bad for me to sleep with you on the beach after our first conversation” he says holding his hand out for you to grab, which you do as he pulls you up slowly
“How about you let me take you on a date” he questions
__Flashback over__
You wished you had of went home instead of agreeing to stay, you wish you didn’t kiss him, you wished you hadn’t said yes to the date… how things would of been different if you just said no.
You still wanted to cry every time you remember your friends finding out about Rafe, the betrayal look on all their faces, the heartbreak shown on JJ’s face… it had been 11 months since you last spoke to them, and knowing they were concerned for you made you happy, maybe one day you could be friends again.
Back to how things were, back with JJ…
Until then you were stuck, stuck with Rafe is this stupid relationship.
“Guys shh, if we get caught we are dead” you heard JJ’s voice say from outside the window…
____________________
(Cliffhanger… sorry guys… this is a story for the Rafe and JJ lovers… if use have any ideas of who you would want to be endgame let me know!!… if you want to be added to the tag list let me know
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r0s3mm · 21 hours
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Heists // Outer Banks series
Welcome!
Don’t hesitate to reblog, like, leave constructive comments, send feedback on what you just read or what you’d like to read next.
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Pairing: OC!Elizabeth Miller x JJ Maybank
A/N:  hello this is quite long with over 14K of words. also this is not edited i'll do it friday. A/N2: angst... big john being a bad father, language, rafe & barry, police chase, jj risking his freaking life
please, do comment and reblog i wanna hear your thoughts and all of that ;)
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When Sarah arrived at the Chateau, back from talking to Pope about the cross, she recognized JJ’s bike on the lawn and could hear Kiara’s voice all the way by the workshop. She stopped her bike next to a familiar one and she grew hopeful. 
“Guys?” She called out and Kiara and JJ’s heads popped out before they waved her over. 
“Is that Sarah?” Elizabeth asked as she jumped off the table and walked between JJ and Kiara. 
“Ellie?” 
As soon as they were within reaching distance, Sarah Cameron and Elizabeth Miller wrapped their arms around each other with relieved sighs.  
-
Rafe stood near the door with a room temperature glass of liquor in his hand when the news reached his ears. 
“Five Kildare teens who went missing nearly eight weeks ago are now reported alive, safe, and back on Kildare Island.” the young man coughed as the liquid slipped down the wrong way. 
“Now a live update from the sheriff’s department.” 
“Yeah, after a little over eight weeks, the five teens that had been missing from Kildare county have returned, been reunited with their families.” Rafe walked closer to the screen and he could feel the eyes on the back of his head. “We’re still waiting for details about their journey, but I’m sure they have quite a tale to tell.” 
On the road, the Routledge’s had been listening to music when the news started. 
“We also got word that the father of one of the teens, John B Routledge, who’s been presumed dead for a year now, has also returned alive and well. Wonders never cease.” Big John smiled at his son victoriously.
The Carrera’s were also watching the TV when the news broke and pictures of the teenagers appeared next to the sheriff’s head.
“Right now, we’re just trying to get those kids settled back into school, with their families. They’ve been through a lot.” Anna gasped when after her daughter’s picture came her goddaughter’s and she turned to her husband with her hand over her mouth. 
Topper Thornton was waxing his board when his ex-girlfriend’s name was mentioned. 
“The teens were down in the Caribbean with another Kildare teen, Sarah Cameron,” Another reporter added and Topper’s movements faltered. “the daughter or disgraced real estate magnate, Ward Cameron, who confessed to the murder of Sheriff Peterkin two months ago.” The Kook grabbed the remote close to him and turned up the volume. “All the teens back, safe and sound on Kildare Island, and John Routledge back from the dead. That’s about as good a result as we could hope for.” 
-
Elizabeth turned down the radio’s volume and leaned back against the table’s edge as the Pogues’ attention was brought back to Sarah. 
“When I went back to Tannyhill, Rafe was on the phone with Ward, and he just kept saying, “My thing, this is my thing.”” Sarah told them. 
“He had to be talking about the Cross.” Pope added.. 
“Yeah, I can confirm.” Elizabeth spoke up almost shyly as four pairs of eyes shifted to her. She pushed off the table. “He and Rose argued about Rafe’s role and him taking over things… Rafe was often on the phone with buyers or something about it.” Sarah nodded in acknowledgement. 
“And he’s coming int0 Wilmington tonight at eight o’clock.” Elizabeth could see a plan brewing behind JJ’s eyes as he shared a look with Pope. “It’s being shipped by train to Raleigh from there but this is our chance to get it back.”
“You get any other information?” Pope asked. 
“Uh, Sarah got the cargo number.” Kiara reached forward to the piece of paper on the table.
“Okay, well, that’s a start.”
“They’re definitely fencing that shit off as we speak. So we should probably get a move on.” JJ stated and they all nodded. 
“Sarah, you hear from John B?” 
“No, I mean, he’s probably off somewhere with his dad.” Elizabeth’s head snapped up when Sarah spoke and Sarah sucked in a breath. “We didn’t tell you.” She added and the brunette frowned. 
“I knew, actually.” Her lips twitched nervously when they frowned in confusion. “I should’ve told you earlier, i know,” she added and JJ knew the words were meant for him. “My return home just wasn’t what I thought it would be and it slipped my mind.” 
“Did you see them?”
“No, but huh, Big John and I were together in Barbados.” She said and Sarah remembered the voicemails her and John B had listened to.
“What?” They all, except Sarah, let out whats’ and questions and Elizabeth leaned back in surprise. 
“Guys! Guys! Back off.” The blonde teenage girl spoke up. “The real problem right now is that they took the Twinkie which is our-”
“Transportation.” Pope finished and Sarah nodded. “I could ask Heyward for the truck.” 
“Uh, what?” JJ dramatically let his head fall forward before it snapped to Pope. “Yeah, that’s gonna go well.” 
“I know but we literally have no other option.” Pope argued.
-
Heyward dropped the orange bucket on the ground with a grunt before he pushed off his thighs. The father stared at his son with consternation. 
“Absolutely not!” 
“This might be our last opportunity to go get that cross.” 
“Is that so?” The father said mockingly. 
“If I could just get to the mainland–” Pope followed his father while the man walked across the shop. 
“Oh boy!” 
“Pop, please! Come on!” Pope begged while his mother and newest friend watched from the counter. “This is about our heritage, our family.” He justified. “This is our thing.” Pope’s father scoffed with a shake of his head while he stared at his son. 
“You wanna know what our thing is? Doing what we say we’re gonna do.” Pope’s arms fell to his sides. “Keeping our promises. Exceeding expectations. You used to understand that!” 
“And I still do! I still understand!” Pope took off after his father as the man walked away. “But, Pop, please, this is the last opportunity, and I won’t ask you for anything else, and I promise you, I’m done, I swear. Please, please let me do this.” He begged before turning on his heels. “Mama.”
“Uh-uh.” The woman shook her head as she raised her hands up. “Don’t bring me into this.”
“You on board with this?” Heyward asked Cleo.
“Gotta strike while the iron’s hot, sir.” She replied while playing with her knife. 
“Get off my counter.” He shouted and she grimaced. 
“Pop, I know appearances are against me right now, but please, I will do anything I have to. I’ll work triple shifts.” Heyward took a big breath in as he walked a few feet away from his rambling son. “I’ll never leave the house again. Just please let me go to Wilmington with your truck.” 
For a few seconds, while Heyward shared glances with his son and Cleo the only sound they could hear was the seagulls crying out. The father closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. 
“Get out of here.” He spoke calmly. “Before your mama talk some sense into me, but you can’t take my truck.” As he spoke, he watched his son’s face light up and that alone was worth it.
“Pop, we’re going to need transportation.” 
“That is not my problem. Talk to Elizabeth. She'll hook you up but I got deliveries. Somebody’s got to keep the lights on. You know? Just in case you don’t make it big.” Pope and Cleo stared at each other, trying to tone down the grins that wanted to split their faces in half. 
“All right. Thank you so much.” Pope nodded, taking a few steps back. “I promise I won’t let you down. Appreciate you, Pop.” 
“Don’t break any laws.” His father warned. “Try to keep him out of trouble!” Heyward shouted.
“I’ll try!” Cleo shouted back before the two teenagers started to run. 
-
John B and John had finally made it to Charleston. The Twinkie’s tires were rolling down the streets of Charleston, hot to the touch after a journey of many hours. The father parked the rattling, old van near the curb while his son stared at him with disinterest. 
“Here we are. Gunning for the big prize. See, the idol, it has directions to El Dorado on it.”
“But we don’t have the idol.” John B pointed out and his father sighed. 
“We’ll get it. The diary should lead us to the other half, which is why Singh wants it so badly. But we got the jump on him this time.” John B raised his eyebrows as he remembered “the jump” his father had on Singh’s men. “If we put the whole thing together,” Big John continued. “both halves, and decipher it, mountain of gold here we come. Let’s go find this church.” 
“Mountain of gold, huh?” John B sighed quietly while the two jumped out of the van. 
“So we’re looking for seventeen Society Street.” Big John said, phone in hand with the map application pulled up. “Uh, it should be an old church with a graveyard.” The pair looked around at the old buildings and the street signs.
“Uh, seventeen, you say?” John B asked. 
“Seventeen Society Street. That’s it.”
“Seventeen.” The teenager repeated, gesturing to the thai restaurant. 
“This can’t be right.”
“Right, right.” John B sighed, exasperated and a little bit frustrated. “Because we’ve been right so many times. Why would we be wrong now, dad?” The boy walked ahead and closer to the business. “A quick internet search would’ve saved us a few hours.” John B added under his breath. 
“Don’t get smart with me. I don’t neet that right now, boy.” 
What about what I need…? John B thought. 
“This doesn’t make any sense. This should be a church and a graveyard, not a damn Thai restaurant.” 
John B’s head fell to the side when his eyes saw a stone plaque. 
“Maybe it’s numbered wrong. It can’t be.” John B ignored his father’s words as he quickly scanned the plaque and walked towards it. 
“Hey,” he whistled. “great explorer?” He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and his father turned around, ready to scold his son. “Check it out.” The father adjusted his glasses and frowned in concentration.
“Stood until the Great Earthquake of eighteen eighty-six.” Big John read off the plaque. 
“Charleston Museum?” 
“Well, I’ll be damned. You are good for something, son.” John B’s head snapped to the side as he stared at his father’s profile with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. Ignorant to his son’s facial expressions, he put his hands on both of John B’s shoulders and slightly shook the teen. “Charleston Museum, eh? Plan B.” 
While his father was leading the way back towards the van, John B had to stop himself from shrugging his father’s hold off his shoulders.
-
Kiara had led JJ to her house as emotional support with her parents and while Kiara was greeted with warmth and worry from her parents, the blonde was barely spoken to as her parents blamed a lot on the teenager. 
“Honey, I am listening to you. I’m just having a hard time.” Her mother rambled with her hands raised. “So I need you to walk me through it one more time.” 
“The Cross of Santo Domingo that we found.” Kiara started calmly. 
“Right.” 
“We thought it was gone forever. We just found out it’s… it’s gonna be in Wilmington tonight.”
“Okay. And the cross is Pope’s family–”
“Pope’s family heirloom.” 
“Okay.” Anna nodded while her husband paced back and forth in the living room. 
“Priceless historical artifact.”
“Priceless, which you’re telling me that you found?”
“We found it, and then Rafe and Ward stole it from us.” 
“Wait, wait, do you know how insane you sound?” Her father, Mike, said. 
“Baby.” Anna scolded.
“Ward is dead!” 
“He’s not dead.” Kiara said louder. “We’ve been over this part a million times!” 
“You understand that this is hard to follow, right? I mean, we had a funeral for the man.” 
“I get how it sounds, but he’s alive. I wish he wasn’t, but he is.” She said and her mother sent her a warning glare. “Why would I lie? He’s alive!” Kiara scoffed before she turned around to JJ playing with something on the kitchen counter. “JJ?” 
“Yeah?” 
“A little help?” The blonde sucked in a breath and stuck out fingers as he enumerated the facts. 
“Ward’s alive in the Caribbean.” 
“Yes.”
“He’s living off the loot that he stole from us, his son kidnapped Beth for a month and uh, yeah, he’s flying across to Wilmington.” 
“What?” Anna’s eyes opened wide as she stared at the teenage boy and he froze. 
“What do you mean what?” 
“Elizabeth was with Ward for a month?” 
“You hadn’t told them?” JJ whisper-yelled at Kiara and the girl shrugged. 
“And where is she now?” Anna stared at her daughter with her eyebrows raised. 
“Home.” Kiara stated. “With Sarah, but she’s supposed to be here any second now.” 
“And you believe that?” Mike asked his wife and the woman frowned. 
“I believe my god daughter.” 
“I saw what Rafe did to her with my own two eyes.” JJ added and Mike glared at the teenager. 
“I’m skeptical, okay? You could be making this up just to get my wife and I to agree to letting our daughter run wild with you.” 
“Dad.” Kiara snapped.
“I am skeptical, JJ, as in “I think it’s all bullshit”. I think that the girls have been led astray, Lizzie and Kiara … And you, JJ–” 
“Mike.” 
“No, no, no.” Mike shook his hand in his wife’s face as a way of shutting her down. “Let’s get this out in the open.” 
“Can we take it down a little?” 
“Let me tell you something.” Mike started when he approached JJ. “You need to understand that I do get it.” JJ slapped his hands together and cracked his fingers as a way of keeping Mike at a safe distance. 
“Sure, you do. Yeah. Sure. Sure do.” He rambled nervously. 
“Do you hear me? I do. I like you, JJ, and I bet your fricking fun to hang with, ditch school with, go down to the breath, because I was once just like you, bro.” Mike said as he looked down at the teenager. “I didn’t think that anything mattered. Thought I could make up any bullshit story and these stupid Kooks would believe it.”
“Mom.” Kiara stared at her mother, silently asking her to pull her dad away. JJ quietly slapped both hands on the countertop before leaning on it.
“But then I learned about hard work.” Mike added and JJ scoffed insulted. “and about what really mattered. All I care about, all that I care about is my daughter and god-daughter.” JJ bit the inside of his cheek as he remembered the last talk he had with his own father. 
“Shut up! Yes, she’s the everything that you can’t ruin, dad! Not her.”
“And all that I know is that they were a lot better off before they got mixed up with you and your friends.” 
Kiara knew JJ, and she knew that at that moment he was holding himself back, for her sake and for Elizabeth’s sake… She also knew that her father had crossed a line when he mentioned the brunette to JJ. 
“Dad!” Kiara jumped up from the couch. “I was never better off!” 
“Yes, you were.” 
“I was miserable and don’t forget that it’s Ellie who introduced me to them, years ago.” 
“Miserable? No, no.”
“Take it down a notch. Listen.” Anna ran up to her husband and daughter and positioned herself between the two. 
“No, no, no!” Mike shouted. “No, these Pogues ruined our daughter’s and Elizabeth’s lives!” 
Anna’s eyes snapped to the stairs outside and they filled up with water when she recognized the person that stood there, though the girl seemed like the shell of who she was a month before. Anna felt her heart drop at the expression behind her green eyes as the girl stared at her god-father. 
“Mike-” 
“Mike!” The man grimace disappeared when after following his wife’s gaze he saw Elizabeth on the porch. Angry and disappointed stare directed at him and JJ and Kiara shared a look at the sight of the girl. 
“Didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Carrera.” JJ sniffled before he pushed his way out of the kitchen. 
“What are you doing?” Kiara hissed. 
“What am I doing? Protecting my daughters.” 
“Can we please–” Anne raised her eyebrows when for a second time her husband’s hand appeared in front of her face. She didn’t miss the teenager on the balcony speed walking around to meet up with the blonde. 
“Everybody says it, that he’s a liar and a thief. He’s just like his father.” 
“Please don’t bring him into this.” 
“He’s nothing like his dad.” Kiara defended. “Nothing like his dad. You don’t know him.”
“I don’t know him?” Anne certainly didn’t miss the sound of the door opening and hushed whispers. 
“Hey,” Elizabeth greeted, leaning against the door frame as JJ’s hand rushed out of his back pocket. “You good?” She asked quietly and JJ nodded though he did not meet her gaze. 
“Where are you going?” Mike shouted at his daughter and Elizabeth and Kiara stared at each other for a few seconds before the latter nodded and Beth brought JJ out. “Where are you going?” 
“Y’all were supposed to listen to me.”
“Please just wait. Please wait. Just wait one second, please.” Anne ran after her daughter and Elizabeth snuck a peek through the small door opening. “I promised myself that if you came back and if I had another chance, I’d try and be different and I’m trying to be different.”
“Okay, I got to go.” Kiara whispered when she saw that JJ and Beth were down on the driveway. 
“I want you to take this.” Anne said, pulling a phone out of her pocket. “There’s a credit card on the back. If you get into trouble, if you need help, you call me.” 
“I will.” Kiara said as her mother teared up. “I will, mom.” The girl nodded before she hugged her mother tightly. “I love you. I gotta go. I’ll be back.” 
Elizabeth and JJ had made it onto the driveway, beside the boy’s motorcycle and Elizabeth stood in front of him as the blonde rehashed the words in his mind. 
“So, I got us a truck to get to Wilmington on the ferry.” 
“That’s good.” He spoke quietly and she nodded. 
“Jayj! Jayj!” Kiara called as soon as she was close enough. “I’m sorry. Jayj, wait.” The two girls watched as the blonde’s leg moved to climb on the motorcycle. “My dad’s literally the worst.” 
“It’s whatever.” He replied, sparing a glance at the brunette in front of him. “I already know what they think of me.” 
“They think the same about me.” Kiara said hoping it would comfort the blonde but he and Elizabeth shared a glance as they suppressed chuckles. 
“Yeah, sure.” They said at the same time. 
“We ready?” 
“We’ll meet you guys over there, I gotta stop home before.” Elizabeth said before she joined Sarah who was sitting on the sidewalk waiting for them. 
“Everything okay?” He asked and she nodded before sending them off on the blonde’s motorcycle. 
-
John and John B walked into the museum and the youngest of the two looked around before his eyes settled on his father. 
“All right.” Big John nodded politely to the pair leaving the museum as they entered. “Just follow my lead. Okay, kid?” John B nodded. “Hey, sharpen up.” The father softly slapped his son’s chest where the few buttons of his shirt were undone then he tucked his own dirty shirt in his pants. 
Taking them two at a time, John B and his father jogged up the stairs and walked the short distance to the front desk behind which a well-dressed man stood. 
“Hello, sir.” Big John exhaled, slightly out of breath. “I wonder if I could have a word with your chief of collections.” 
“Dr. Pierce is out doing fieldwork till June.” The man replied with a posh sounding accent. He eyed Big John and his son before he blinked a couple of times and refocused his attention on the eldest. “Can I help you with something?”
“Well, hopefully.” The teenager rolled his eyes at his father’s scoff and watched as he readjusted his glasses. “I’m Dr. Marion from up at USC. Paleogenetics mostly. Anyway, I’m interested in seeing some items you have in your collection.” John B raised his eyebrows at his father’s lies. “Specifically pieces retrieved from the excavation at Trinity Church back in the 1880’s.”
“You could submit a written request to get access to the archives.” Big John sighed with a disappointed shake of his head. 
“I was really hoping to poke around there today. I got one of my students with me.”
“They don’t let folks down there after that Egyptologist weaseled in and proved a bunch of the Pharaoh collection were fakes.” 
“I remember that.” The two adults chuckled. 
“You’ll have to go through the protocols.” 
“Well, where… where are the archives? Are they… are they here on-site?” 
“No, downtown museum storage, end of Broad Street, uh, near the Battery.” John B shook his head as the man walked right into his father’s trap. “I’d take you, but they won’t give me one of them key cards. Above my pay grade. You got to be a director like Ms. Flannery here.” He gestured to a stressed out looking woman walking by. “Hello, Ms. Flannery.” The three waved.
“Good afternoon.” The woman said snappily with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 
“Key card, huh?” Ms. Flannery walked to a room with a plaque that read director and she swiped the key card over the reader before she entered the room. “Understood. All right.” Big John shook the man’s hand and smiled. “Well, thank you for the information. You’ve been most helpful. Have a good day.” 
Big John glanced at his son and with a final nod to the man and a glance to the door, the pair went down the stairs and out of the door. 
-
Pope, Cleo, JJ, Sarah, Kiara and Elizabeth had all made it on the ferry and settled down on a small table in the middle of the deck. 
“Honestly, the hardest part is gonna be security, all right?” JJ spoke up. “So most of the guys are gonna be at the rail yard.” 
“Okay, so, we’ll need to find some place and guard it, maybe a little further down the line, like a whistle-stop.” 
“Yeah…” Kiara nodded. 
“You guys are getting ahead of yourselves per usual.” Cleo said and Elizabeth smiled at her, agreeing as she picked at the skin on her hands. “We don’t have a way to transport the cross. What you think? On JJ’s motorcycle?” JJ took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair as he grunted. 
“That’s not my fault. Oh, everyone. All right, all me.” Elizabeth glanced from JJ to Sarah who seemed to be focused on something behind her and she turned only to see Topper. 
“Oh my god.” Sarah suddenly leaned forward. 
“Oh my god, what?” 
“Topper.” Ellie replied as she gestured to Topper behind her. 
“Why… is he everywhere?” 
“Perfect.” 
“Hey, JJ.”
“What?” The blonde turned to Pope. 
“I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.” JJ stared at Sarah with his eyebrows raised and the teenage girl shook her head, silently pleading. 
“Actually, Pope’s right. He does have a rig.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No. Absolutely not. Can you-?” Sarah asked Elizabeth as she gestured to JJ. 
“Yes, come on.”
“I’m not getting into this.” The brunette gestured to the two blondes. 
"Didn’t you say earlier that you could get a truck?” Kiara asked and the brunette nodded. 
“Yeah, I did but it fell through. So,” Ellie sighed and rubbed Sarah’s shoulder. “I guess Topper’s our way to go.” 
“You just said you weren’t getting into this.” 
“It is a necessity, Sarah.” 
“Is it really?” She asked the group and they all nodded. 
“Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, all right? So why don’t you just take one for the team, huh?” JJ added. 
“What would John B say?” 
“I think John B will completely understand.” Pope said calmly and Ellie snorted a laugh. “Think about the circumstances. It’s about treasure.”
“We can handle John B… We’ll hand him off to Ellie or something.”  Kiara said before she eyed her friend who shook her head. 
“I mean, I hate it but they’re right. Just talk to him.” 
-
 Big John drove around the museum and towards the back entrance and parking lot reserved for employees. Both father and son waited in silence after Big John shared his idea with his son. 
“So this is your master plan, huh? Rob an old lady.”
“Not… rob.” The adult shook his head though he himself seemed unconvinced. “Appropriate, all right? Temporarily acquire an object that has no value for her and is essential for us.” 
They noticed movements by the gates and turned their attention towards it. Ms. Flannery walked with a colleague while both of them made their way to their respective cars. 
“Hey, there she is. It’s game time, kid.” Big John slapped his son’s knee before he reached in the glove compartment and pulled out a firearm he loaded. 
“No.” John B sat up and twisted towards his father. “What are you doing?” 
“Do you know where we are? We are on the hot damn Hillary step, okay, boy?”  John B sighed as his father once again justified himself. “One step away from the mountaintop. We can’t let a little thing like federal armed robbery get in the way.” 
“A little t-”
“I taught you how to shoplift, right.” Big John stated. 
“Are you seriously bringing that up right now?” 
“But that came in handy when I was gone, didn’t it?” 
“Oh Jesus. Come on, man. What really helped was working jobs and Ellie and Robin helping out.” John glared at his son. 
“So here’s another little lesson. A little baby step.” Big John’s eyes were trained on the two women chatting in the parking lot. “J-bird, hey, you gotta let that thing go out there at sea, kid. Lighten up a little.” John B scoffed. “It was us or them. What did you want me to do? And right now, we got another thing that needs doing.” The father took a beat before he stared at the wheel. “I think it’s better if you do it.” 
John B stared at his father with his mouth opened in shock. For sure he’d gone insane or crazy during that year, right? 
“Oh, me. You want me to go, your son? You want me to go hold up that old lady?” 
“That’s right. I assure you, once we get to Orinoco, it will get harder.” The magazine was pulled out and John B glanced down at it. “Hey, see? It’s empty.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I get it.” 
“You trust me now?” No. “Now I need to know that I can trust you.” He grabbed the firearm and wrapped his son’s hand around the handle. “Okay? And don’t ask for her key card specifically. All right?” John instructed as they eyed the victim. “Get her whole wallet. We don’t want anybody to know what we’re after. She’s leaving now.” The father said after the woman unlocked her car. “This is our only chance. Go on. It’s game time, son. Go! Get that bag, boy.” Big John pushed his reluctant son out of the van and watched as John B creeped up behind the woman. “That’s it.” 
John B scratched the back of his head with a sweaty hand before he looked back to his dad. 
“Ma’am.” The teenager cleared his throat and the woman yelped. 
“Ooh, goodness.” She eyed the teenager. “You snuck up on me.” 
“Yeah, sorry about that.” 
“Can I help you with something?” 
“Look, I was just wondering, uh–” John B sputtered. 
“Wondering what, son?” The woman asked softly before her eyes moved to the empty gun in John B’s hand. “What are you doing?” She asked. The woman’s tone made John B stop for half a second as it reminded him of the tone Robin used to use whenever she would catch him or Ellie doing something bad. 
“I just need your bag, please.” He asked. 
“You’re not getting my bag, son.”
“I will bring it back with everything inside of it. Can I please just have your bag?” 
“Oh, shit.” Big John sighed and swore as he witnessed the interaction. 
“You’re about the most pitiful excuse for a thief I’ve ever seen in my life.” The woman stared at the boy’s shaky hands and nervous demeanor. “What’s the matter with you? Does your mama know where you are?” She opened her car door wider and set a foot inside. “You need to be ashamed of yourself.” She said before closing the door and leaving John B standing next to the car, defeated. 
Big John slammed the wheel with a groan and John B almost waved to the woman as she drove away. With his hands on his hips, John joined his son and stood next to him. 
“Aint exactly Jesse James, are you, kid? Come on.” He slapped his hand on his son’s back and led him back to the van. “We’ll just get into the archives the old-fashioned way.”
-
The pogues stared at Sarah up on the higher deck while they all stood behind near the short flight of stairs. Elizabeth leaned back against the railing, glancing back and forth between Topper and Sarah and the horizon behind Kiara and JJ’s heads. 
“I just can’t believe you’re here. I saw the news. I … I texted you.” Topper couldn’t tear his eyes off his ex-girlfriend. “I didn’t even know if you were alive, Sarah.” The blonde’s eyes snapped up to the teenage boy. “How are you? You okay?” 
“You know, Top, um, things are a little tough right now.” Sarah gazed out at the sunset.
“Yeah?” She nodded. “Tough how?” 
Sarah took a second and glanced at the Pogues behind Topper and Elizabeth squinted as JJ and Pope gestured for her to lay it on thick. 
“We’ve been after this… family heirloom of Pope’s, which is why we were gone. And we ended up losing it, and unbelievably there might be a chance that, um, we could get it back tonight. In Wilmington.” Topper listened intently to the girl. 
“Okay.” he nodded slightly confused. 
“It’s crazy.” 
“Okay. How… how can I help?” He asked and she shook her head. 
“No, I can’t ask you to do that.” She turned away. 
“No, seriously.”
“Topper, I feel like if I ask you, just, like, the person that you are …” She repeated the words Ellie had told her. 
“What do you mean, “the person that I am”?” 
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” She shook her head. “I guess I mean you’re such a giver, Topper. You’re such a helper, and I feel like if I ask you–”
“Sarah, that’s just who I am.” He replied with a smile. “That’s just the way I was raised.” He sucked in a breath and Sarah took half a step closer and Pope had to slap his hand over JJ’s mouth as the blonde let out a mocking laugh. “And anyway, remember when I said I would do literally anything for you? Remember that?” He asked as he stared right in her eyes. 
“Yeah.” 
“I meant it.” 
“Oh, vomit.” Elizabeth groaned as she glanced away from the sunset and to Topper and Sarah. “Poor guy.” 
“Oh my god, she’s touching his shoulder.” Kiara leaned closer to Elizabeth and made a gagging noise. 
The brunette tore her eyes away from the pair as Topper talked with his hands a lot and she sighed. 
“I’m sorry about everything.” She slowly let her hand fall down to her sides before she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I totally understand. You have no reason to help us. Actually, you have all the reasons not to help us.” 
“She got him.” JJ stated and Ellie turned around and stared as Sarah smiled victoriously at her ex-boyfriend who simply shook his head. “She got him good.” He added when she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. 
Teasingly, the Pogues sent her thumbs up and she flipped them off. 
“I’ve never seen a guy be so whipped.” JJ mumbled with a shake of his head and Pope raised his eyebrows as he subtly looked between JJ and Beth. 
-
Big John parked the van outside the building holding the museum storage and he looked at the entrance over the rim of his glasses. 
“Figured out a way to get in without using a key card?” 
“No plan yet. Just got to wait for the night to settle. Less people around, the better.” John B nodded. “We’ll wait till the witching hour and then get down to some serious cat burgling.” The man grabbed something out of his bag and his son turned at the movement. “Grit?” He asked with the rolled up joint in his hand. 
“I’m good.” 
“Ah, attaboy.” The father winked before he brought the lighter up to his lips. “You know what is true though?” He took a drag and held the smoke in for a few seconds before releasing it out the window. “All faults aside, it is nice to be back together with you.” 
“Yeah, it is.” John B agreed quietly. 
“It sure is.” The back door to the building was opened and a yellow-ish light illuminated the body of a security guard coming out. “Oh, three o’clock, eh?” 
The security guard rushed past the van and right next to a couple. 
“You know, I’m on the board of directors.” The man informed the giggly woman and John raised his eyebrows. “Being on the board has its privileges. I could show you to the archives.” 
“This is it. This is our chance.” Big John undid his seat belt and grabbed the door handle. “Let’s go.” He hurried as the drunk and touchy pair climbed up the stairs that lead to the archives’ back door. 
“My God, are we allowed to go in here?” The woman slurred. 
John B and his father followed them as they chatted and walked on the balcony. The man grabbed the key card out of his jacket pocket and swiped it over the reader. 
“Let’s go.” Big John whispered and he ran as quietly as he could up the stairs. 
The man started to feel a nervous shiver climb up his spine when the door came dangerously close to shutting in their faces. John B tore off a branch from a nearby plant and lodged in into the opening as his father caught up to him. 
“Nice catch!” Big John smiled brightly at his son before he opened the door. 
The door creaked when they opened it wide enough for the two of them to pass through and John B winced while they peaked inside. 
-
Elizabeth finished climbing up the ladder to reach the top of the wagon and she groaned when her shoulder started to throb. 
“You okay?” JJ asked when he noticed she stopped moving. 
“Yep, yep. Just a little pain.” He nodded, walked a few steps towards the edge and held out his hand. 
“C’mon.” he shook it and she grabbed his left hand with her right one and he helped her up. “Good?” She nodded with a small smile before they joined the others in the middle. 
Ellie stood next to Sarah who stood with her hands on her hips as she looked out at the train yard.
“Well, there’s like a thousand trains here.” 
“We know it’s car 750X on the track to Raleigh.” 
“Yeah, so now we just gotta find it.” 
“Well, new flash. We’re not getting out of here unnoticed with a giant cross.” 
“No shit.” Elizabeth said very quietly that only Sarah heard her. 
“We won’t have to. We can nab it somewhere further in the country.” Pope said. “Just gotta figure out how to stop the train.” 
“Right.” Kiara nodded though she was unconvinced. 
“Leave that to me.” JJ spoke and a few pairs of eyes with raised eyebrows stared at him. 
“Mmh?” Elizabeth blinked. 
“I got an uncle up in New Bern, right? When he got tipsy, he’d just throw an old chain across the tracks, just for shits and giggles. And that old little chain would stop all the train traffic in coastal Carolina.” 
“How much family does JJ really have?” Sarah questioned Elizabeth and the girl shook her head in a dismissive way. 
“A chain?” 
“He’s actually right. There’s a low-voltage current that runs across all rail tracks. Throw a chain on it, you close that circuit. It would read as another train. Crossing lights come down. Science is actually pretty sound.” Pope explained. 
“Science. I knew my science.” JJ wiggled his eyebrows at the four girls and they rolled their eyes. 
“Well, we don’t have a chain.” 
“I do.” Elizabeth raised her hand and Pope eyed her. “Just in case we needed to tie or attach something… Like the cross.” She shrugged. 
“Where is it?” 
“Yo what’s going on?” The teens turned around to see Topper on the ground, looking up at them. “Are we doing this or what?” 
“In the truck.” Elizabeth replied and Cleo nodded. 
“All right, you all wait here. Me and Pope will go look for it and send a signal once we find it.”
“Do we actually have a plan right now?” 
“Think we do.” 
“That’s impressive.” Sarah scoffed. 
“Let’s not jinx it. Come on.” 
One after the other, the Pogues all went down the ladder and back on the ground. 
-
John and John B snuck in the building and the only sounds they could hear were the giggles of the woman and the quiet whispering of the man as they grew closer. The two men walked through the storage space, looking at every poster that seemed to give directions. 
“Psst.” Big John moved to the staircase and pointed to a plaque on the wall. “Upstairs.” The father gestured with his head and followed by his son, they made their way up the creaky metal staircase. “Look at this place.” John B looked around while his father scoffed in amazement. “It’s a gold mine.” 
There were a lot of artifacts, some protected in glass cases, others in wooden boxes, some were simply on a shelf. 
“Check everything, just check everything. Look for anything Trinity Church.” Big John turned to face the shelves and rummaged through boxes. “Anything late eighteen hundreds. Habitats, biodiversity. Antiques. Pretty cool stuff… But not what we’re looking for. Tiles, grass dividers, come on.” The father sighed disappointed.
John B opened a drawer and frowned at the spiked metal handcuffs in close to perfect condition. 
“Underground Railroads, rocks. What we got? Uniforms, coats, buttons?” John B swallowed thickly and closed the drawer. “Swords, scabbards.” Big John bent over with a quiet grunt, his finger glided along the identified containers. “Some porcelain, silver plates. Pottery.” 
It was silent for a few minutes, both of them on opposite sides of the storage room looking through dusty boxes. 
“Religious.” Big John muttered. 
“Huh?” 
“John B, hey.” He called out. “The Trinity Church.” His son slowly made his way closer. “This is it, buddy.” 
“No way.” 
“Okay.” The two grabbed the large plastic bin and brought it up on the table. “Look at this. Look at this, boy. The mother lode.” With a knife from his pocket, Big John sliced through the seal. “This could be it, Bird. Five hundred years in the making.” John B stared at his father with a large smile. “Here we are.” He said as he slipped his fingers in the packing hay.
-
Cleo and Pope stepped over the rails, walking past trains with flashlights in their hands, looking for the right track. 
“It’s this track here.” Pope said, illuminating the second track to his right. “Remember, it’s car 750X.” Cleo nodded, before glancing at the paper in the teenager’s hand. 
“All right, 2-0-4-5.” They walked past a few cars. “2-0-1-7.” Cleo looked back nervously thinking she’d heard footsteps but she shook off the thought. 
Still on top of the train with the truck parked behind them; Kiara, JJ, Elizabeth and Sarah sat, staring at where their friends disappeared to. 
“What’s taking so long?” Elizabeth nervously tapped her fingers on her knees and she turned when she heard Topper whisper. 
“You okay, Top?” She asked quietly and the attention was turned to him and he nodded. 
Pope jumped a little bit as they neared the car they were looking for. Their flashlights shone on every car they walked past as Cleo read them out loud. 
“7-2-6.” 
“Hold on.” Pope searched the number on the dark wagon before he sucked in a breath. “750X, baby. This is our car. He started climbing the ladder. “Run and tell the other Pogues.” 
“Careful up there.” 
Kiara and Elizabeth had started their third game of Tic-Tac-Toe on the dusty train roof when Sarah called out their names. 
“Hey, hey.” Elizabeth stared at where Sarah was looking and smiled when Pope appeared and flashed his light towards them. 
“Well done, guys.” The brunette muttered. 
“That’s it. We’re green.” Kiara announced before wiping her hands off. 
A look of worry appeared on their faces when they heard a horn blaring. 
“What’s happening?” 
“You hear that?” 
Something hissed in Pope’s ear and suddenly he was thrusted forward against the train as it started to move. 
“Train’s moving. Train’s moving.” JJ said. 
“Shit. Shit.” 
While Ellie, Kiara, Sarah and JJ were getting off the train, Pope urged Cleo to jump on with him. 
“Yo, B! Where’s the cable?” 
“In my bag! I’ll grab it.” She spoke before jogging to the truck and shoving the backseat door open. 
She ruffled through her back, feeling a presence behind her as her hand wrapped around the statue she’d snatched. She glanced back at JJ, who was close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him and sent him a tight lipped smile before she found the tied cable and jumper cables she had grabbed from John B’s place. She got them out and gently shoved them against his chest before she had to walk away. 
“... I’m not even close to being okay with this.” Elizabeth heard Topper say as she walked past him and Sarah, though Sarah did not miss the deep breath the brunette took and the way she could see her red cheeks in the dark night. 
“What is he not okay with?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. 
“Illegal activities.” Ellie nodded and Topper noticed JJ carrying the large chain and jumper cables.
“What are we doing with this, now?” 
“Do you really wanna know, Top?” The Kook didn’t reply and Ellie let out a small amused chuckle while JJ and Kie moved closer to the blonde’s motorcycle.
“Hey, I just wanna make sure everyone here is okay with ending up in federal prison.” Topper asked. 
“If you don’t wanna be involved we can take the truck, drop you off somewhere…” Elizabeth trailed off. “We won’t even mention you, at all.” 
“What she said.” JJ added. “But uh, if it gets to that, yeah, we’ll do it for Pope.” 
“Top, give Ellie the keys, she’ll drive. If we get caught we’ll just say we kidnapped you, yeah?” Sarah offered while the brunette walked to the driver’s side under Topper’s gaze. 
“She an okay driver?” Topper asked Sarah and Sarah looked at Elizabeth who nodded with a nonchalant shrug. 
Topper sighed defeated and tossed Elizabeth the keys while he climbed in the backseat. JJ and Kiara were walking to his motorcycle when they saw the brunette climbing aboard the high raised truck. 
“Beth, you can’t drive.” JJ called out as Kiara climbed behind him. 
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a second as the image was burned in her mind. She closed the door and turned on the engine before opening the window. 
“What do you mean she can’t drive?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shared a glance with Sarah before she looked back at JJ. 
“I can drive just fine, I’m self taught.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m kidding.” She told Topper who grew worried. “Buckle in, Cameron.” Elizabeth muttered to the teenage girl and she could hear Topper do the same. 
“You okay?” Sarah asked. 
“Peachy.” The brunette sighed before JJ saw her arm go out the window and gesture for him to ride ahead. 
Pope and Cleo were hanging on for dear life as the train gained speed and the air was knocked out of their lungs  and JJ tried his best to follow the train.
-
The first box wasn’t the right one, neither were the next five… Big John stood to his full height and kicked one of the boxes. 
“It’s over!” 
“No, stop.” John B stood and put both of his hands on his father’s shoulders. “Hey, hey,hey. It’s okay. Relax. Shh!” 
“That’s the last of it.” 
“No, it’s okay, Dad. Calm down.” The father shrugged off his son’s comforting hold. 
“What’s the point? That’s the last of the Trinity boxes.”
“Shh. Shh.”
“It’s over.” Big John exhaled. “It’s over. It was a long shot anyway.” Big John cried silently. 
Something shiny grabbed John B’s attention and he frowned when the box his father kicked was turned over and objects had fallen out of it. 
“Goddamn it.” The man swore. 
Next to the silver cup was an old cloth, thin and worn but it looked like something was wrapped in it. And so, John B took a few steps towards it before he crouched down and reached for it. 
“There’s so much disappointment, you know?” His father added between sobs. “Near misses.” 
The teenager stopped himself as he was about to call out for his father. He glanced at the man a few feet behind and frowned. His shaky hands unwrapped the statue and he sucked in a breath. 
“Shit.” he whispered under his breath. 
Elizabeth took the first half of the idol from his father and apparently she had split from him too. So, would it be a good thing for him to tell his father or should he bring it home and share with the Pogues? Maybe he should just leave it there… Maybe his father would give the whole thing up and be just his dad… The teenager shut his eyes tightly and inhaled. 
“Hey, Dad, we missed one.” His hands held onto the handles and he lifted the box up, the objects inside clattered as he walked up to his father. “Uh, Dad, we actually missed a box.” Big John’s sobs quieted. “What is this?” He questioned the man after quickly and badly rewrapping the idol. 
“What?” His father turned, heart in his throat as he set his sights on the object. 
“Some sort of rock?” The teenager said even though he knew the answer. 
His father started breathing heavily; like he had stopped breathing for a handfuls of minutes. The man frowned and reached for the object in his son’s hands. 
“Look.” 
“What’s it labeled?” 
“Trinity Church, miscellaneous.” John B read off the label before his eyes snapped to his father almost cradling the statue. “Um… Dad?” 
“This… this…” his father stuttered, bringing the statue near the window so he could see properly. “This is Kalinago. A vanished Indigenous people.” The man plucked the picture of the piece Elizabeth had out of his backpack and put it next to the statue he had. “Look, look. The stones, they’re the same color.” John B stared at his crazed father with moderate to heavy worry but he couldn’t deny that the pieces seemed to fit. 
“Holy shit.” The teenager whispered excitedly.
“We gotta get that first half back from Lizzie, no matter what.” Big John said and John B’s excitement subsided. 
“What do you mean no matter what?” 
“C’mon, John B, I won’t hurt the girl…” Big John moved the piece around as he inspected it. “Look at this,” He traced his finger over the picture and the stone. “This is the cat serpent.” Big John’s finger traced over the picture, over the upper half of the statue. “This here, I think, this is a skylight. We’ll have to see when we get our hands on the other half. Oh birdy boy. You did it. You found it, boy.” 
-
The train’s horn blared loudly in the night and Cleo and Pope’s arms were starting to feel tired after holding on for so long. 
“Hey!” Pope shouted over the loud noises surrounding them. 
“What?” 
“Just so you know, I’m not normally this crazy. It’s just getting this cross back. It means a lot to me. I have to do this.” He finished in a louder shout and Cleo smiled. “It’s worth it.”
“It better be after all this shit, man.” 
Kiara and JJ jumped off the motorcycle, the chain and cables  in the blonde’s hands as they started to run towards the crossing light. A snort left Kiara’s mouth when, as they ran JJ tripped over air and fell face first on the gravel. 
“You good?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said. “All right?” The train blaring reached their ears as it got closer. “Oh God, you can hear it coming.” JJ threw the chain across both tracks and waited for the lights to change color. “Let’s fry this sucker.” 
“It’s not working.” Kiara said. 
“I can see that, Kie!” The blonde said loudly before he glanced at the jumper cables close to the lights. 
Quickly, he got on his knees and connected the cables to the pins at the base of the light post before running back to the tracks.
“Don’t get electrocuted, please.”
“Yeah, no promises with that. Three, two, one.” He said before connecting the cables to the tracks.
“Moment of truth.” They waited a few seconds but the lights stayed green. 
“Come on, man. Come on. Come on.” JJ stood up and readjusted his cap nervously. “Okay. That’s what he would do. That’s literally what my-” 
He stopped pacing  when Kiara moved to the tracks and unclipped one of the cables only to clip it on the other side of the track. 
“Uh, hey. Train touches both sides of the track…” They stood in the middle of the line and silently prayed for the lights to switch to red. “Come on. Come on. Please we don’t have a plan B.” She said just before the light turned red. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” “That’s what I’m talking about!” JJ jumped a couple of times before he faced Kiara. He held his hands out and she high fived him hard with a grin on her face. “You’re a genius. I was gonna do that.” 
“Science!” She said as her finger touched her temple. “But no, it’s all you.” 
“And now we wait.” The blonde panted as the horn rang again. 
They had been waiting a couple of minutes, crouched down in the trees near the tracks but they were growing impatients. 
“It’s gonna work. It’s gonna work.” 
Pope held on, his arms burned and sweat accumulated on his hairline when he was once again shoved around along with Cleo. 
“The train’s stopping. It’s stopping. They did it.” 
“Shit.” 
“Come on.” 
The train was coming to a full stop right next to where Kiara and JJ were waiting and Cleo and Pope jumped off, their legs and arms feeling like jelly. 
“She’s slowing down.” 
“We got brakes, dude.” Kiara smiled proudly. 
The driver reported the red lights to the dispatch, requesting for them to follow up on what he thought was unusual. 
-
John B and his father walked out of the building and down the flight of stone stairs. 
“This is it, my boy. There is blood on the tracks.” Big John cheered. “We are hot on the trail.” 
“Yeah, feels great.” The teenager said with much less enthusiasm. 
“Ha, you’re right about that, boy. It feels great!” 
“Wait, wait, wait.” John B slowed them down when he noticed the empty parking spot on the street. “Where’s the car? Dad? Where’s the car?” “It’s–” The father turned on his heels. “Somebody must have stole it.” 
“Why would somebody steal the Twinkie?” Big John frowned when he noticed an out of place piece of paper on the parking meter. “That’s all I’ve got. That’s all I’ve got, Dad.” John B stopped when in his hand, his father held a perfectly square piece of paper. “What?” 
“Oh boy. Looks like Carla found us.” 
Been looking all over for you.
Carla Limbrey
“Great.” The two of them sighed, defeated. “Limbrey stole the Twinkie.” 
“Come on, I know where she lives.” Big John stated before he started to lead his son down the street.
-
Cleo and Pope groaned and stretched as their limbs ached. 
“I almost broke my arm.” The boy said, shaking off the ache in his limb. “Can you pick the lock?” 
“Sure.” Cleo nodded confidently. 
She grabbed her knife and a thin wire and started working on the industrial lock. 
Kiara and JJ heard a car pull up and the blonde leaned forward. 
“Is that Beth?” He asked just as orange flashing lights illuminated his face for a second before he was pulled back by Kiara. “Nope, not Beth.” They saw the rail security truck pull up next to the lights. “Shit.”
“No, no, no. That’s not part of the plan.” 
Cleo was almost done picking the lock when a flashlight was shone on them and the teenage girl started swearing. 
“Hey! Hey!” 
“Shit.” 
“Stay right there.” 
“Oh shit.” Cleo threw her knife and wire on the ground before the two faced the officer. 
“Hey, what are you doing here?” 
“Sir, I’m so sorry. It is not what it looks like.” Pope stepped forward with his hands up. “I know it looks like we’re criminals, but that’s not our intention. I promise, sir.” 
The two officers walked around before they reunited at the tracks, under Kiara and JJ’s nervous gazes. One of them moved their flashlight over the jumper cables that had turned a hot shade of red. 
“What is going on, here?” 
“Hell if I know.” “What is this bullshit?” The train’s driver shook his head. 
Cleo and Pope squinted at the bright light in their eyes. 
“What are you doing here? It’s very dangerous.” 
“We’re just trying to get to the next town over. We’re running away from home. That’s it.” Cleo spared a glance at her friend. 
“You know what? I’m not buying it. I’m sorry, I'm calling for backup.” Pope had a chill run down his back and he sucked in a long breath. 
“Sir, please, I see you’re married.” He stated when the light hit the silver band. “Sir, please. We’re in love.” He let out and Cleo struggled to hold back her surprised face. “That’s all we’re trying to do. We’re just trying to get married and we can’t do that here.” His voice broke and he shared a look with Cleo who nodded. 
“Please, this is my fiancée. Please.” He added and Cleo grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers. 
“Our parents won’t let us be together but…” 
“Sir, we can’t get married in this town, but I love her so much.” Pope calmed down, less defensive as Cleo wrapped her arms around his. “And if you’d just let us get to the next town, we’re gonna find a priest who’ll marry us. And we just wanna start a life together. Please.” 
Kiara and JJ had hidden a little bit deeper in the trees. 
“Unhook that for me, please.” One of the workers asked his colleague. “What is going on?” He asked himself as the cables were taken away from the tracks and the light post. 
“Throw that in the back for me.” The man asked his colleague and she nodded while he waited for the lights to change color.
The rail worker stood in front of Cleo and Pope with a fond expression at the young love. 
“You guys hopping the rails, it’s illegal, okay?” They nodded. “But…” He glanced back to make sure they were alone. “I can’t stop what I don’t see. So listen, just… go.” The teenagers breathed out relieved. 
“Thank you. Sir, what’s your name?” 
“It’s Jimmy.” 
“That’s gonna be our first child’s name, Jimmy.” Pope nodded as Cleo tried to hold back her laughter. “Because of what you’ve done today. Thank you so much.” 
“All right. Go.” 
The worker sighed when the light finally turned from red to green. 
“You’re all set over here.” The worker told the conductor through the radio. “Some asshole put jumper cables on the tracks.” 
“There you go.” 
“They’ve had enough time, right?” Kiara questioned JJ who had his head between his knees. 
As soon as the man was far away, Cleo picked her tools back up and continued picking the lock. 
“Got it.”
“You did it! All right.” He tore the lock away and the metal creaked loudly as he turned the handle and they slid open the doors. “It’s gonna be in here somewhere.” Pope turned on his flashlight and pulled himself in the train wagon. “Start looking.” He instructed before he helped her up. 
Elizabeth had started looking for her friends the second she knew the train had stopped and so, the teenage girl slowly drove next to the train, with the hope that she would find her friends soon because Topper was seriously getting on her nerves. 
“Who the hell are we right now, Sarah?” He asked, poking his head between the two front seats. “This is ridiculous.” 
“There they are.” Elizabeth said snappishly before breaking quick. 
Sarah was out of the truck before it was completely stopped and Topper let her name slip past her lips worriedly. 
“How’s it looking?” 
“Still searching.” Cleo replied, eyeing Elizabeth and Topper in the truck. 
Pope pulled Sarah up while Elizabeth drove forward to align the cargo bed with the wagon’s door. 
“Hey.” Sarah turned to Cleo who stood next to a container. 
“What?” “This one says Cameron. It might be this one.” Sarah and Pope hurried and Sarah sighed in relief at the logo from her father’s company. 
“Cameron Development. This is it. This is the cross. This is it!” Slapped on the box and hearing the noise from the truck, Elizabeth walked out. 
“What’s going on? Y’all go it?” 
“Think we do, yeah.” 
“What are we doing now?” Topper asked after also stepping out of the truck. 
“We’ll put this in your truck bed.” 
“No, no, no.” The Kook shook his head and Elizabeth sighed annoyed. “That’s gonna scratch the paint.” 
“Topper, we genuinely do not care.” Elizabeth told him. “I’ll pay the fucking job paint after all’s done, I promise.” 
“That? You wanna get that?” He pointed to the wooden box. “In here?” 
“Just help us spot it, okay?” Sarah asked and the young man opened the truck bed’s door. 
Elizabeth moved aside so that Topper would take her place near the door as they argued over how to handle the box. The teenagers froze for half a second when the train horn blared once again but this time signaling it was ready to leave. 
“That can’t be good.”
“Ellie get back in the truck.” Sarah shouted and the brunette was already at the door. 
“Quick!” 
“Hurry up, let’s go.” They all grunted, pushing the heavy box and Elizabeth turned on the ignition, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. 
The box was more than halfway in the truck and Pope and Topper were bickering, while the truck bed wasn’t long enough to hold all of the cross. 
“Ellie, where's the cable you had earlier?” Sarah shouted at the girl through the open window in the back. 
“JJ!” The girl shouted back, hand on the transmission stick. 
“It’s stuck!” 
The horn blaring made Kie and JJ jump.
“All right, all good to go.” the conductor said before the engine hissed. 
“The train’s starting.” 
“We gotta go get them.” Kiara nodded. 
“There goes the plan. We gotta go help them.” 
On his way to his motorcycle, JJ lost his cap which he retreated back to grab and when he reached his vehicle he rummaged through his pocket for his key which came out along with Kiara’s father's money clip. 
“Hey, you dropped your-” The teenage girl recognized the initials sewn on the brown leather and she picked it up just as JJ turned around, curious as to why she had suddenly gone silent. “Why do you have this?” JJ swallowed thickly before scrunching up his nose.
“If I’m gonna be accused of being a thief, might as well get something out of it.” he mumbled. 
“You’re just giving them ammunition.” 
“Ammunition for what, Kie? They’re already against me. So who cares?” 
“They didn’t have a reason.” She raised the clip to his eye level. “You’re giving them a reason.”
“Who cares, Kie? Know what? We don’t have time for this. Get on.” He demanded. 
Elizabeth was nervously looking back in the rearview mirror when a man with a white hard hat and a yellow and orange safety jacket walked out from between train cars. 
“Shit. Shit. Guys!” She shouted when the man seemed to speak into his walkie talkie. 
“Hey, stop!” 
“We gotta go!” The brunette shouted as they secured the box as best as they could. 
“The cops are coming. Let’s go!” Topper shouted before getting in the backseat while Pope and Cleo stayed in the truck bed. Sarah nodded to Elizabeth and she put the car in park while Cleo and Pope held onto the box. 
“Sarah!” Topper shouted when he was thrown back against his seat when Elizabeth floored the gas pedal. “How the hell can you live like this? You come from a good family.” 
“Don’t be a backseat driver, Thornton.” Elizabeth put both of her hands on the wheel and lowered the window. “Get out of the way!” She shouted to the man in front of her while Sarah reached sideways and honked. “Is he okay?” The brunette asked calmly and Sarah nodded. 
“They took something off the train. The cops are in pursuit.” The man spoke on the radio. 
“Police’s here.” Pope shouted from the truck bed. 
“It’s fine.” the brunette tightened her hold on the wheel. 
She glanced to her left mirror and nodded to herself before pressing the pedal more. Elizabeth made it to the front of the train and she barely glanced to her left before gesturing to Kiara and JJ to go with a roll of her wrist. 
“Shit, that’s Beth.” JJ said worriedly and Kiara frowned. “And that’s the cross. Get on!” Kiara obliged though she pouted the whole time. 
JJ took off after the truck and both were followed by the local Sheriff’s department. The tires screeched and dirt flew off when she made it from the dirt road to the asphalt. 
“Somebody’s following.” Topper as he could hear another engine. 
“That’s JJ and Kie, Top.” Sarah told him.
“J!” Kiara called out, scared and the boy revved the engine. 
“I know. I know.” 
JJ got to the left of the truck, eyes glued to the side window where he recognized Elizabeth's collected but focused expression. 
“What the fuck is he doing?” Topper shouted and Elizabeth grimaced, pushing down the reflex to open his door and let his body flop down on the road. 
Her green irises glanced to the mirror and she sucked in a breath when JJ’s eyes were already on her. The boy quickly glanced and gestured to the truck with his head before his right hand left the handles and he quickly cut the air in a straight line. Elizabeth sniffled a little and frowned, licked her lips nervously before she looked back at him and nodded and he mirrored her. 
“He’s trying to get Kie on board.” She told them while JJ started to move closer to the truck. “Top, tell them to get her, okay?” The Kook nodded and turned in his seat. 
“Get ready to jump.” JJ told Kiara and she gasped. 
“What?” 
“It’s okay. Beth’s gonna hold while you get on board. Pope and Cleo are waiting for you.” 
“How? What?” JJ looked up as Elizabeth looked back at him through the mirror and she nodded. Kiara noticed the interaction and frowned. “Have you lost your mind?” 
“Probably.” He shouted back and saw Elizabeth hold out her splayed out hand, five fingers out. “Get ready to jump!” JJ kept his eyes on the brunette’s hand as it counted down and she got closer. 
3, 2, 1. 
“Now!” JJ and Beth shouted at the same time. Pope held Kiara’s hand as she stood on the seat slowly and was pulled on board by Pope and Cleo. 
“Oh shit!” Topper swore before he glanced between JJ and Beth. 
“She good?” The teenage girl asked calmly. 
“Yeah, she is.” Sarah confirmed but Elizabeth still checked in her rearview mirror and she let out a breath. 
She frowned when she couldn’t see the blue-ish headlight from JJ’s motorcycle anymore and she realized he had fallen behind. 
“He stopped.” Kiara shouted and Elizabeth sat up straighter. 
“He what?” She asked. 
“What’s he gonna do?” Cleo shouted. 
“I don’t know. I don’t think he knows either.” Elizabeth glanced quickly and saw that the blonde had turned around on his moto and was now facing the police.
“He’s tryna get killed.” Kiara said and Elizabeth slowed down. 
“Okay, maybe he’s just trying to get rid of the cops.” Topper added while JJ picked up a large rock.
“Eyes on the road, Ellie.” Sarah reminded the girl and Beth simply tightened her hold on the wheel though her hands were starting to get slippery from the nerves. 
“Let’s dance.” The blonde teenager nodded before his ringed hand revved up the engine. 
He sped up, as quick as he could and when the time came to cross them he threw the rock in the windshield. 
“He did it.” Pope shouted for everyone to hear. “They’re chasing him.” Elizabeth’s eyes snapped to Pope’s in the rearview mirror. 
“What? I’m turning around, hold on.” She warned them. 
“No you’re not. I'm not going to jail as accessory because of you guys.” Topper said.
“Topper you don’t have a choice, I'm driving. I’ll pay for whatever repairs you need, okay just-” She breathed out as she accelerated. “I’m not leaving JJ.” The brunette could feel Sarah’s eyes on her but she simply focused on the road ahead. 
Elizabeth arrived at a crossroads the one JJ had just left and turned left to get back on the service road they were on. She could see him, on their right as he tried to outrun the police. Her mouth went dry and she started to sweat, the teenage girl shook her head, trying to get the feeling to go away. 
He was too far away from where they were, a few patches of green separating her from getting to him. 
“Turn right!” Pope shouted and she did so without warning, her body on autopilot. She breathed out sharply. 
Her eyes followed his silhouette when she found him again. The blonde made his way off the service road and up to the overpass,
“No way, he’s way up on the overpass.” Sarah told them and Elizabeth nodded.
“What are you doing, JJ?” She whispered to herself when she noticed him going for a face to face with another car. The boy grew bigger and bigger until he was right in front of them on the overpass. 
And then, the motorcycle crashed through the stone lining the overpass and JJ’s body fell over it.
She barely registered her friend’s pained groaned as her foot hit the brake and her hand slammed the car into park, the destroyed motorcycle near the truck’s tires. She felt a burning sensation on her throat, not knowing that the seat belt had cut through her skin. Her hands shook as they struggled to unclip the seatbelt but her hand was steady when she opened the door and her jellified legs hit the ground. 
“Pope! Go!” Kiara shouted before she jumped off. 
“JJ.” Elizabeth called quietly, blinking away the tears. Kiara started to walk towards the crash site and she frowned when her arm was held back. 
“Let her go.” Pope told her as softly as he could, Kiara stared at him, confused but he simply pointed to the brunette who was walking to where she had seen JJ’s body fall, because she truly never let him go from her sight. “Let her, go.” Kiara nodded as she watched her best friend from afar. 
Elizabeth could faintly hear Kiara’s cries but her eyes were glued to the tuft of blonde hair that stuck out from the dark green grass. 
“JJ?” The girl’s voice broke when she noticed he didn’t move. She wiped her cheeks and looked back to her friends, silently begging them to join her. “Please.” She cried and kneeled next to him as she started to feel hot all over. She could barely see his chest rise and fall and she whimpered. 
The brunette reached for his hand and barely smiled when she found it sweaty and warm. 
“JJ, please.” She begged quietly and his hand twitched in hers.
“That was the gnarliest powerslide I’ve ever done.” He croaked out and she chuckled wetly.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He tightened his hold around her hand. 
“He’s okay!” She shouted to her friends behind them and she smiled when they all sighed in relief. “Sit up, sit up.” She muttered quietly and he did so as she looked him over.
 They stared at each other for a few seconds and the feeling of guilt started to take over JJ’s body. He stared at her red eyes and the way their friends seemed to try and sneak a peek. 
“Did you hit your head?” He blinked and shook his head. “Okay that’s good.” 
“Help me up?” He asked and she nodded before standing up and helping him to his feet. 
For a couple of seconds they stood in front of each other and she sniffled a few times before he tutted and brought her in his arms. Kiara watched them from a few feet away and sighed, crushed. The pair shared a few words as they walked back to the group. 
“You’re alive!” Pope shouted before wrapping his friend in a bear hug, knocking the wind out of him. “Dude!” “I know, I’m surprised too!” 
“Shit, that was gnarly.” 
“That was trucking, dude.” The boy laughed before Sarah shoved him and Elizabeth flinched, worried he was injured. “Oh Jesus. Oh God.” He muttered when Sarah stood before him with a scowl before she wrapped her arms around him tightly. 
“We really thought you did it this time, JJ.” She said muffled and he pulled back just in time to see Elizabeth wipe her eyes. 
“The pleasantries are nice, but we should really get out of here.” 
“Yeah, let’s roll.” Elizabeth threw a look at Kiara who eyed JJ with worry. She smiled at her friend and made her way to the truck. 
“Don’t ever do that again.” Kiara scolded and JJ’s mouth twitched in guilt.
“Hey! Hey, you kids, don’t move.”
“Go! Come on!” Elizabeth shouted. 
“You okay to drive?” Sarah asked and Ellie nodded. 
“Yeah, of course.” She made sure all of her people were safely in the truck or the bed of it and she took off even though the officers shouted at them not to move. 
-
They had been walking for almost an hour during which Big John reminded his son of Carla Limbrey’s involvement. 
“So,yeah, in return for helping me find you, I told Limbrey I’d get her shroud.” 
“Right, you’re talking about the healing garment, the one that cures all maladies, supposedly in the cross. Is that what you’re referring to?” 
“That’s the one. It wasn’t in the cross. She checked. That’s how I was able to convince her I had a bead on it.”
“And do you have a bead on this magic healing garment, dad?” John B asked as they neared the house. 
“Currently, I have zero beads. I don’t have a single magic garment that can heal all maladies.” 
They arrived in front of a gated house and Big John pushed his way through. 
“Oh, and by the way, that shroud she’s after, it’s a known hoax.”
“Yeah,” John B scoffed. “I could’ve guessed that. Do you have a plan?” 
“Sure, always have a plan.” His left hand moved to his son’s right shoulder and he gently squeezed it. “We are gonna prevaricate our way out of a pickle, son.” 
“I don’t know what that means.” The teenager shook his head while his father walked up to the front door. 
“You’ll figure it out. Play along if you feel like it.” 
“Yeah. I’d play along if I knew what the word meant.” John B said as he waited by the van. 
With his left hand, Big John grabbed the door knocker and slammed it four times on the wooden door before he waited. Big John snuck a peek through the window right next to the door and just as he did so, Carla appeared in front of him. The woman glared before she opened the door. 
“Hi.”
“Hi.” 
“Uh, you got my ride, right?” 
“Yeah, I was tracking you, first on your boat, then on your phone.” Carla stated. “I needed to get your attention.” 
“Just checking. I came down here to see you, of course.” The woman nodded slowly, unconvinced. 
“Oh.” she chuckled. “Is that so?” 
“That is so… so.” He looked at her over the rim of his glasses. “But first, lookee there.” He pointed to his son. 
“Oh, hey, Ms. Limbrey. What’s up?” The teenager waved, bored.” Carla stared at the boy and she smiled genuinely happy that the father had found his son. 
“You found your son.” She glanced from Big John to John B. “And you found your father… and your sister too.” She smiled and John B joined them. “How fortunate. That bond, so precious, so… fleeting.” 
John B’s eyes flitted between his father and the woman, sensing a double sense to her words. 
“Come in.” she invited. 
“Here, let me help you.” John pushed the creaking door open. “You heard her, come on.” 
“Can’t do this on the front porch?” John B asked his father who’d already entered the house. 
“Just come on. Be cool, be cool.”
“Be cool?” 
“It’s okay.” 
John B had one foot on either side of the threshold, staring at the front porch he let his head fall against the door before he closed it and followed his father to the balcony in the backyard. 
“So, as the Spaniards were coming downriver out of the headwaters, they were attacked. The Kalinago warriors began to loot the ship. And the priest was…” Big John spared a look to his son who nodded in acknowledgement. “was terrified that the shroud would be taken if the natives got the cross, so he… he took it out of the cross. See?” Carla’s eyebrows twitched. “That’s why it wasn’t there when you looked. Yeah? And then that priest kept the shroud. And he fled. He took cover. Eventually–”
“So what my dad is trying to say is that the priest ended up on the Royal Merchant cause he was the sole survivor of the San Jose fire.” John B interrupted and leaned back on the pillar. 
“That’s right.”
“Oh.”
“And we know all this because of Denmark’s diary, which my son here found.” The father said proudly as he moved to stand beside his son. 
“With a little help.” John B sighed. 
The boy just wanted to go home… 
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you know? Then later, the priest, see, he got dysentery, and he died.” Big John leaned forward and sat on a low chair on the balcony, facing the woman. “He was… he was buried here in Charleston.”
“But if he had the shroud, why didn’t he just touch it and heal himself?”
“That,” John B pointed to the woman a couple of times before he sighed and ruffled his hair. “very valid question. You know, I was thinking the same time but–”
“That’s part of the story.”
“Yeah, continue please.” 
“Because he was so devout, he was so looking forward to being reunited with his Heavenly Father.” The chirping of insects grew louder in the handful of seconds it took for Limbrey to process the information and nod. “We dug up his effects at the Charleston Museum.” Big John announced and the woman’s face lit up with hope when Big John looked at her with a victorious smile. “And yes, we have it.” John B looked at his father with uncertainty. “We have the shroud.” 
Carla Limbrey took a few seconds to stare at Big John’s son and the teenager simply nodded while his father dug through his old backpack. 
“We were just on our way to bring it to you when you left your… invitation.” Big John finished, bringing out a tied up piece of cloth in which the counterfeit shroud was wrapped. The woman sucked in an audible breath and her eyes fell on the man’s hands. “I wrapped it up the best I could with… with what we had on the way.” Limbrey nodded. “That is…” he chuckled. “the shroud right in there.” 
The teenager sat to his father’s left, breathed in and held it for a few seconds and the cloth was passed over. 
“Thousands of years to finally be in your hands.” 
Carla’s fingers lightly grazed the wrapper while they shook in anticipation and Big John started to feel relief since the woman seemed to believe them but John B was racked with guilt as he and his father lied to the woman who had been suffering for years. 
“There she is.” Big John spoke slowly while the woman started to unwrap her once in a lifetime gift. “Behold a thing of magic.” The man let out a sharp and noisy breath as he rubbed his arm. “You feel that?” He asked his son who seemed to hesitate in playing along. “I just got chills. Look at that.” He added when Carla spared a glance his way. 
“Yes, wow.” John B said in a tone that lacked excitement. 
Carla Limbrey closed her eyes and lifted up her head when the tip of her fingers grazed the aged fabric. She tightened the hold she had on the soft material and brought it up to her face only to press it against her skin. 
“Do you feel the power of that?” Big John stared at his son who had covered his mouth in surprise and he raised his eyebrows. 
The woman lowered the cloth against her chest and her eyes snapped open. She cleared her throat and grabbed ahold of her crutches that she’d left on the side. She made a few steps with them before her left hand released the handle and the aid clattered on the deck at John B’s feet.
“I’ll grab it.” John B offered but his father shook his head. 
“You can just-”
“I’ll just leave it, yeah.” He sat back in his seat with his lips pressed tightly together. 
“I don’t need your help.” She told John B as she kept taking small steps. 
John B saw his father stand up from the corner of his eye and he could hear the woman’s sharp breathing. He balled up his fist and let his mouth lean on it while the woman walked away. It’s when the second crutch hit the ground loudly that the teenager flinched. He waited for a few seconds for the sound of her body hitting the floor or for her to ask for help but it never came.
“Oh.” She said and the teenager looked over his shoulder. 
Big John stayed alert, close to the woman ready to catch her if she were to fall but she didn’t. He smiled happily to his son who nodded, though both of them were baffled. A smile split her face in two and a few tears ran down her cheeks but she looked up at Big John and she laughed. 
“I’m healed.” She spoke softly. 
“Hallelujah. Look at you, darling. How about that?” Big John clapped his hands together which made his son flinch once again as he held his head in his hand, unable to look up at the woman. 
After Limbrey thanked them repeatedly, the father and son bid their host adieu and walked out of the house and got their van back. 
“She walked. It worked.” Big John said as he stuffed his belongings in the van. 
“What the hell was going on there?” John B asked, joining his father in the front. 
“Hey, you have to believe in miracles if you want them to happen.”
“It’d be a miracle if this thing starts up.” John B pointed out as the engine struggled. 
“Gotta believe, boy. I believed it.” He said before pulling out into the street. “El Dorado, here we come.” 
-
Elizabeth’s eyes were on the road ahead of her but she could feel the stress of her back seat passenger and she rolled her eyes. 
“Top? Calm down.” 
“Shit,” the teenage boy panted as he kept looking back. “they definitely called it in.” 
“Yo, B, turn here.” JJ spoke from behind Sarah. “Beth? Turn here.” He repeated but she kept going and he scoffed before he leaned forward and Sarah slapped his hand away as he tried to grab the wheel.
“Don’t backseat drive, JJ. Either we switch places or you stay there.” She said and he sat back in his seat squeezed between the door and Pope. 
“Okay, but just go faster.” He leaned forward.
“JJ…” she warned. 
“No, but really if they do catch up just-” The blonde’s hand grazed her shoulder as he rested his hand against the back of the seat.
“JJ! Enough!” She stepped on the break and a chorus of swears echoed through the car. The brunette undid her seat belt and turned around in her seat coming almost face to face with the blonde. “You gotta make a decision right now.” He nodded as he pressed his lips together to suppress an amused smile. “Either we switch or you stay there and shut your hole.” She waited, eyebrows raised as he muttered something under his breath and went back in his seat. “Thank you.” She said. “Everyone okay?” She asked and they all nodded after checking up on Pope and Cleo who were still in the bed of the truck. “Okay, good.” She put the car back in drive as she buckled up and pressed down the gas pedal as much as possible throwing the passengers back against their seats. 
“Are they always arguing like that?” Topper asked quietly and Kiara threw him a look without answering. 
So the brunette sped up and drove over an speed bump that’d lost the painting over it. Everyone in the car went flying out of theirs seats and it took Elizabeth a few mili-seconds to noticed the box had jumped out. 
“Shit!” She swore and stopped the car once again. 
“Are you serious, right now?” JJ shouted and she ignored him as she got out and ran to the back of the truck. 
“Are you guys okay?” She asked Pope and Cleo who had gotten out of the bed. 
“Yeah, kinda hurts a little.” The boy said as he rubbed his ribcage. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, Pope.” She eyed the cross on the ground. “It wasn’t painted over and there was no warn-”
“I don’t care about that, Ellie.” He waved her off as he walked closer to the cross where their friends had already walked to. 
The boy took the last few steps to the box before he pushed off the cover that’d gotten damage in the fall and he frowned. 
“What the hell?” Kiara asked when their eyes fell on the tires filled with cement. 
“Shit.” 
“It’s fake.” Pope breathed out, defeated. He crouched down under his friends’ stares. “It’s all freaking fake.”
“Of course, we did.” JJ stepped forward. “Of course, we stole a fake.” he chuckled breathlessly. 
“Pope, I’m so sorry.” Sarah apologized and Elizabeth shook her head. 
They watched as JJ took off his cap and walked to his friends to put a hand over his shoulder in support. All of them sighed in that moment when the sirens reached their ears. 
“Y’all hear that? Okay, I can’t be here. My grandfather’s a judge.” Topper started as he backed up towards the truck. 
“Dog, would you relax? They’re not gonna think some dude in flip-flops is part of a robbery.” JJ snapped. 
“Oh yeah, with the crate sitting right next to my truck.” 
“Pope, we gotta go.” Kiara called. 
“Y’all coming?” 
“I’m sorry, P.” Elizabeth said as she wrapped a hand around his arm. “We gotta go, bud.” Elizabeth eyed Cleo who stared at Pope with defeat and she cracked a small smile and gestured for the girl to come. 
“We gonna find it. We gonna find it later.” Cleo whispered in the boy’s ear with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Pope nodded reluctantly and followed Cleo. 
“Yo, Maybank!” Elizabeth shouted and JJ’s head appeared on the other side of the truck’s bed. 
“What?” 
“You drive.” She said before throwing the keys and he nodded as soon as the words slipped her lips a grin appeared on his face and Sarah jumped out of the front passenger’s seat, leaving it open for her. 
Cleo sat on Pope’s lap, while Sarah sat on Kiara’s lap and Topper found himself pressed up against the door. 
“This doesn’t seem safe.” He muttered and Elizabeth simply reached back and slapped his knee. 
“Shut up.” 
Pope tried as best as possible to look back at the crate left in the middle of the road for as long as possible before JJ turned a corner and he lost sight of it. 
-
Rafe had arrived to Barry’s place almost half an hour earlier and the latter was still gushing about the valuable object he was able to get his hands on. 
“This shit is straight out of the Pope’s vault, bro.” Barry scoffed while Rafe took a sip of the liquor. “You don’t think we can get more for it as it is? I mean, this straight out of church, bruh.” Rafe didn’t say a word at that, only pushed the half empty bottle against Barry’s chest. 
Rafe grabbed a piece of sheet metal and brought it over the large fireplace they had constructed.
“This is how we turn the cross into untraceable money.”
“Untraceble, huh?” Barry questioned as he helped Rafe cover the cross. 
Rafe frowned and bent over the brick edge of their pit and reach in the middle of the cross for the unlocked trap there. He reached in and pulled out a small key with a red ribbon tied to it. 
“You know, I heard some crazy shit that happened last night.” 
“Is that right?” 
“You know that fake cross we put in there?” 
“Yeah.” Barry nodded.
“It was stolen.” Rafe said as the shadow of an amused smile reached his lips. 
“Does sould like them Pogues, don’t it?” “Oh, no doubt.” Rafe agreed, putting on the last piece of metal. “I mean, I’d pay half the value of this just to see the look on their faces when they opened the box.” The Kook wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle Rafe had handed him back. 
“I bet you would.” The two crouched down in front of the hole. “You what the melting point of gold is, Country Club?” Rafe didn’t answer, just kept staring at the cross like a starved man. “1,948 degrees. Hot enough to melt me and you.” Rafe scratched under his nose as he waited for the man to set the fire. “I got to be honest with you, dog. I don’t know if I got this in me, bro.”
“I do.” 
“Yeah,” Barry chuckled. “i knew you did. It’s all yours, Country Club.” 
Rafe lit the match and stared intensely at it as it flew from his hand to the underside of the cross. He and Barry stood up but Rafe grabbed a heavy piece of metal and closed the small opening, concentrating the heat of the fire in the small, enclosed space.
“There it is.” Rafe spoke quietly as he stared at the slowly melting cross with a pleased smile.
“We’re going to hell, that’s for sure.”
************************
TAGLIST: - @jjxobx - @moonylantsovs - @k-k0129 - @jaxxandcomet - @taaniesha - @sunflowerbecca - @obx-direction-sos - @itssoweirdyoureher - @scenesofobx - @just-chilling-stuff - @nikfigueiredo - @mirellef2001
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qlossytbh · 1 year
Note
hi i found your blog today and i loved your imagines, i was wondering if you can make one that the reader is feeling sad and distressed (there is no specific reason) and jj will comfort her 🙃
birthday blues - (jjmaybank x fem!reader)
a/n: i am backkk!! got back into my obx obsession since season 3 is coming and decided to get some requests done :)
warnings: swearing, drugs, underage drinking, mentions of sex, mental burnout, lots of things lmao
word count: 4.7k
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.•° ✿ °•.
“I'm so sorry sir,” You sighed heavily as the older man eyed you down angrily. “I'll fix that up right now for you.”
You gave him a weak smile and pulled away his food. You weren't going to argue with him because although the older man would deny it, he did in fact order his fries on a separate plate from his burger. But the face of confusion that slowly shifted into rage after you had set down his food immediately made you realize this was not going to be a pleasant customer. 
You made your way to the kitchen counter and asked Mike Carrera if he could transfer the fries to the plate of the burger since he was the only one available in the kitchen. As you wait, you take in what the wreck looked like. 
People were flooding in and out of the restaurant. Loud chattering and movement was heard all throughout. You watched the servers rush back and forth, from table to table and customer to customer. The wreck was heavily understaffed and for the amount of people you were all attending, three servers, being you, Kiara and the newest member was clearly not enough. 
The bell rang behind you, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. Automatically you thanked Mike and took the food over to the table in a hurry. 
“Here you go Sir,” You offered him a smile as you put the plate down onto the table. He inspected the plate thoroughly and soon shook his head. 
“This isn't the same burger.” His low gravel-like voice called out. Your body tensed as you strained a smile. 
“Oh no, we didn't change the food sir, we just added the fries on the order like you-”
“I'm telling you, this isn't the same.” He huffed loudly. You felt your body strain as you sucked in a breath. 
“Sir, I can assure you-” 
“Don't patronize me little girl, I'm sick of this. This place can't even offer good food yet alone a server who isnt as incompetent as you are.” He said as he got up. You suddenly felt small. He slammed a dollar bill on the table in front of you, causing you to flinch as you opened your mouth to speak. The exhaustion in your body prevented you from protesting as he left the place grumpily. 
You let out a deep sigh and sat down at the table. Your ankles were pulsating, your head was throbbing, your eyes burned. Everything and anything hurt. You rubbed your eyes and then placed your chin into the palm of your hand as you stared down at the dollar bill. You then shoved a fry into your mouth. 
You were too mentally exhausted to overthink how you had just been treated. Many men and women had walked in and out of the wreck these past weeks with the same attitude and being such a push over when it came to serving, you were the one who had to take in all of the shit they threw at you. You know Kiara flipped them off most of the time, but you felt some moral obligation to submit to their insults because they did pay your tips.
Speaking of, the dollar tip the man had just left was what you were counting on to buy JJ his present for his birthday tomorrow. The tips you were paid these past two weeks wasn't nearly enough to get him something. The frustration of wanting to get him what he deserved but not being able to was becoming unbearable. 
‘I'll just use my savings,’ You thought.
These past weeks caused your body to now go into survival mode. You were running on nothing but coffee and a single french fry so far. You were working two jobs, one of them with a 7 to 12 hour shift, depending on the day. You were acing all your tests but at the cost of countless sleepless nights. You were out helping John B and JJ survive on their own at the Chateau by making them week's worth of dinners and lunches ensuring that they wouldn't starve. On top of that, you had to pay your own rent and food, which was at the bottom of your priorities right now, but it was still nagging at you in the back of your mind. 
Your body couldn't take it anymore. You were burnt out. Mentally and physically. All you could do was fantasize about slipping your shoes off and crying all of this week's and last's stress into your pillow when you got back home tonight. You also had to deal with the stress of getting JJ a good birthday present. 
“Y/N, food isn't going to serve itself!” You heard someone shout from the kitchen. You groaned and whined quietly as you forced your small feet back into action. 
“Y/N!” Kiara called over. You took a deep breath. All of the exhaustion also led you to be extremely irritable, so being called around was beginning to get on your nerves. But you contained yourself, like always. 
“Hm?” You hummed softly, turning towards your friend. She smiled at you. She looked good. Not so much like a living corpse. The glow in her face was something you took notice of. That's the paradise of having Kook parents, you assumed. 
“We're going over to the Chateau after our shift, do you want to come?” 
You pursed your lips. With all the stress, you realized you had begun pulling away from friend group activities but not because you didn't want to be there but because you didn't have any time or energy to do so.   
“I don't know..” You sighed. You shifted back and forth on your heels. “I have a lot of things to get done tonight.” 
“Come on,” Kiara nudged your shoulder with her fist, which only strained your smile. “We're gonna have a small bonfire with the guys, maybe a few beers here and there…”
Her voice trailed off as she smiled at you widely trying to convince you. Were the bags under your eyes and the messy hair not enough for her to realize you were utterly exhausted? 
“I don't think I can make it Kie,” You rubbed the back of your neck as Kiara deadpanned at you. “I have to buy JJ his present and then I have to get some math homework done, I also have to reschedule my shift from-” 
“You work too hard dude,” She placed her hands on your shoulders and shook you back and forth. “Maybe just let loose a little? For tonight?”
You felt your ankles pulsate once more. A break would be nice, and you knew that for a fact, but you couldn't let yourself stop. If you stopped, you were going to collapse, and you needed to get everything done.
“Drink for me tonight will you?” You flicked her cheek which she protested at. “And don't let John B pull the same shit he did last time.”
You pulled out your notepad to take orders and pushed past Kiara who sighed deeply. Your friends noticed your absence, but they also knew how much of a perfectionist you were. You were always off running errands or getting something done, which is why they weren't completely concerned. They usually just teased you for always being on edge and with something to get finished. 
.•° ✿ °•.
You ran as fast as you could towards the deck where your friends were waiting for you. You had gotten about 3 hours of sleep last night finishing math and physics homework before having to run out at 7am to babysit one of the kids you were responsible for. The job finished before lunch since you had to be at the deck where the HMS Pogue took off from. 
JJ stated that all he wanted for his birthday was to spend the day on the small boat, ‘drinking beers, smoking blunts and spending time with his favorite dumbasses’. If there was anything JJ wasn't, it was complicated, so everyone agreed to his birthday wish. You did however offer to cook dinner and a cake at the end of the day, which no one complained to. 
You were running a bit late which is why you were running as fast as you were, shooting a few clumsy and panicked sorrys at people who told you to watch it after nearly crashing into them. 
John B saw you first. “Took you long enough!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You fumbled as you wasted no time on tossing your bag into the boat and jumping in, nearly slipping. Once on the boat, you leaned over trying to catch your breath. “I’m here-”
Pope and John B eyed you as you took in a few staggered breaths. Kiara came up behind you and rubbed your back. “There she is.”
“Hey guys,” You gave them all a clumsy smile. Sarah was walking towards the boat with JJ by her side and a big cooler in hand. When you locked eyes with JJ you smiled. His face lit up at the sight of you since you hadn't seen him for about three days due to how much work you had been doing. 
“Y/N!” Sarah smiled widely as she quickly made her way onto the boat and attacked you in a bear hug. You let out a small huff of air due to the impact and quickly hugged her back. 
“Hey S,” You rubbed her back and sighed. You missed this, missed spending time with them. She pulled away, giving you a soft peck on the cheek. 
“Back off blondie, its my turn,” JJ interrupted, pushing Sarah to the side. He crouched down slightly to wrap his arms around your waist and lifted you up, hugging you as tight as possible. You let out a strain of giggles, burying your head in his neck and hugging him just as tightly as he spun you around. 
Once he put you down, you looked up at him as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “Happy birthday Jay,”
He hummed softly and cupped your cheeks, pecking you on the lips softly. The kiss was gentle but needy and the grasp he had on you was firm. You hummed before John B started fake gagging. 
“I think, fuck, I think im gonna-” He said between gags as you pulled away and rolled your eyes. 
“Listen, I haven't seen my girlfriend in three days,” JJ pointed a warning finger at him. “Let me live.”
“Oh the horror!” Kiara gasped sarcastically.
“I know, I feel deprived and neglected.” He said, moving behind you and hugging you from behind, setting his head on your shoulder. 
“Yeah, you have been MIA recently,” John B interjected. “You aren't getting tired of us are you?”
You tensed. Did they really think that? He said it in a teasing manner, but maybe, there was truth hidden behind it..? Did they feel like you didn't want to hang around them anymore? Did Kiara say something that maybe sounded like you were avoiding them? 
“What? No.” You came off more defensive than you would have liked. “I've just been busy.” Pope shot you an odd look. You swallowed the thick anxiety that pooled in the bottom of your stomach. 
“Anyways,” You said, taking in a deep breath of air. “Are we gonna stay here all day or…”
JJ tightened his grip on your waist. “I mean I'm not complaining.” 
“Yeah, no.” John B turned around and got behind the boat's engine, getting ready to take off. Kiara and Pope grabbed the cooler and began unpacking the food and drinks from the inside as John B left the deck area. 
You turned to JJ, feeling the soft rumbling of the engine beneath your feet. His arms rested on your hips as he hooked his thumbs in the fabric of your pockets. He looked down at you and you began smiling. 
“What's that look for?” You asked, suddenly intimidated by his stare.
“I just forgot how it felt to look at your pretty face,” He teased, kissing your cheek. You slapped his chest gently and looked at him in shock
“It took you three days to forget!?” You placed your hand on your chest. “I'm offended.”
“The joints I've been smoking were just too good,” He looked up. “Made me forget all about ya’”
“You are so not getting any of the stuff I planned for you today,” You crossed your arms and his face fell. 
“Did I say forget? I meant temporary amnesia,” He said, shifting on his feet. “Tell me.”
“Go smoke a joint, maybe it'll help you forget I ever said anything.” You responded. He suddenly crouched down and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You were much smaller than him after all.
Your screams and laughter filled the air as JJ carefully moved closer to the edge of the boat. You gripped at his back as he pulled you close to the edge. The boat was still moving towards your destination which caused you to panic slightly thinking he'd toss you over. 
“JJ Maybank, don't you dare.” You warned. He kept moving towards the edge which caused you to continue to squirm. You felt your heart swell up with joy. God, you haven't been this happy in a while. You then grabbed the hair that sat at the nape of his neck and began to pull on it. 
“Ow, ow, ow!” His body tensed as he pulled away from the edge and immediately let you down, but your fingers remained tugging on the small blonde hair. 
“What do you say?” 
“Please, please-” You let him go and he sighed dramatically. He glared at you while rubbing the back of his neck but all you could do was smirk back. “That hurts.”
“Thought you were into that shit.” 
“Different context babe,”
“Okay, ew.” You furrow your brows as your cheeks heat up slightly. JJ reached over and took you by the hand, pulling you closer. You smiled up at him and leaned in, kissing him softly. 
You missed his touch, and how it made you feel. Being with JJ somehow made you forget about all the responsibilities you had been tossing onto your plate these past weeks, and by not being able to take any breaks, you were in need of the distraction your boyfriend provided. 
He pulled away and reached for the cap that laid on his head. He placed it backward on your head and tucked the small baby hairs behind your ears as he looked down at you in admiration. 
“I missed this,” You confessed softly. 
“Hmm,” He pecked your lips once more. “So did I.”
The boat stopped moving suddenly and you turned to John B who announced the arrival to your usual spot. Sarah and Kiara headed straight for the beer as they began tossing everyone a can. Before JJ was able to make his way over you grabbed his hand and whispered. 
“Your present is back at the Chateau, i'll give it to you tonight.” He turned and gave you a look while you just smiled back innocently. 
JJ made his way over to the beers where Sarah, Kiara and Pope were already sipping on theirs. John B walked up to you. 
“Hey,” He said. “You got the things to make grilled cheese with tomato soup tonight?” 
Your smile fell. You assumed JJ would have wanted you to make his favorite pizza, the one you always made for him every year on his birthday. You had gotten ingredients for that, not grilled fucking cheese. 
“What?” You looked at him with panic in your eyes “I got stuff to make Pizza, did JJ say he wanted grilled cheese?”
“Uh, I think so?” He shrugged it off as if it wasn't a big deal. You pinched your nose. 
“Did you not think ahead to let me know? I could've stopped by and got cheese and bread and-” You stopped. “Fuck, is he even going to like the pizza?”
John B raised a brow at you. “Well, JJ is a simple person, I don't think he really cares what we eat, as long as its food”
“But I-” You took a deep breath. 
Your paranoia was beginning to come up again. This happens all the time. You plan something ahead of time thinking its perfect and a second option pops up and you begin doubting everything you planned ahead of time, which causes a huge stress wave. You wanted JJ to get every single thing he wanted today and you wanted it to be special, but how could it be special and perfect if you already screwed up dinner. 
“Y/N,” John B cut through. “It's fine, really. JJ won't care.”
You nodded but John B could see the uneasiness in your eyes. He noticed the panicky look that settled subtly between your features. “You ok? You seem on edge recently.”
“Yeah, no.” You rub your temples. “I'm fine, just a little bit stressed.”
He wasn't convinced, and neither were you. “Right.”
Kiara let out a scream. When you looked over, Pope was pulling her by the arm as they both fell over the edge and into the water. John B took one last look at you before placing a hand on your shoulder and heading over to Sarah. 
.•° ✿ °•.
You chopped the green onions quickly before rushing over the counter and passing Sarah and John B the cups they asked for. 
“Y/N, do you know where the chips are?” Pope asked. Your mind was multitasking, as you continued chopping the rest of the vegetables you looked up and pointed to the bag in the corner of the kitchen. 
“Right there Pope,” You turned to JJ who sat on the other side of the bar. “Jay, can you pass me the garlic powder?”
He turned to you from his conversation with John B and tossed you the garlic powder that stood right next to his elbow. He then continued talking to John B and Sarah as you tossed the veggies into a bowl and dusted your hands. 
You looked like a complete mess. Your hair was everywhere, there was flour all over your face and clothes. The bags under your eyes were more visible than ever and your ankles were pulsating once again. Everything hurt, even your back was pulsating, begging you to sit down and take a break.
You had been overthinking the whole pizza and grilled cheese incident since John B mentioned it and it ruined your mood all day.
Not to mention how you only managed to finish a page of homework while on the boat, even though you planned to finish three pages. You also got a call from your landlord who informed you about a new bill you had to pay by the end of the month. 
You thought for a day you would be able to escape the reality of life, and for a second you thought you would be able to, but it all caught up to you. And you couldn't mentally or physically take anything else. Your plate was beginning to overflow, but you refused getting anything taken off or asking for help. 
“Kiara, can you get me the parmesan cheese from the fridge?” You asked as you washed a spatula clean. 
“Do you need any help Y/N?” Sarah offered from her spot between JJ and John B. Your movements had quickly become raggedy and tense, and you were moving quickly and breathing heavily. Sarah noticed this as you looked around the counter desperately. 
“No, that's fine Sarah-” You scanned the counter for the salt and groaned when you couldn't find it. “Where did I leave the damn salt?”
JJ’s smile faltered. The tone in your voice concerned the three. It was suddenly on edge and tense as your eyes moved all across the counter. John B looked over at JJ who shared an equally confused look. JJ got up and made his way over to the kitchen aisle. 
He set his hands on your shoulders and leaned down to you, causing you to flinch. “Why don't you sit down for a few minutes-”
“No, no it's okay, I just need to find the salt-”
“The parmesan isn't here,” Kiara announced, moving away from the fridge. You turned your head towards him. 
“What?” You said, panic rising for the twelfth time this day. “That's impossible.”
You rushed over to the fridge and scanned it a couple of times before realizing that you had indeed forgotten the parmesan cheese. You groaned and felt the back of your eyes burning with tears threatening to spill. 
“Let me find this damn salt first,” You rushed back to the counter and began organizing things in an attempt to get the salt to appear. 
“Y/N, I think you should really just sit and-”
“It's fine, let me just find the salt..” Your hands began to shake as you reached across the counter. Your body shifted and ended up accidentally shoving the gallon of milk you had used for the recipe onto the floor. “Fuck!”
You quickly reached down and grabbed the milk before more could spill out. You took in the mess and that's when everything fell right onto your shoulders.
The stress, the overwhelming stress, it all became too much. Working, social life, paying debts, making sure your grades were ok and everything was going decently, it was all too much. You had become so mentally burnout that your body was failing you. You were shaking and you had no more strength or energy in you. 
“Fuck!” You shot as you slammed the milk onto the counter. You took in a deep shaky breath through your nostrils as tears began brimming your eyes. You steadied yourself on the counter and took a few deep breaths, but the sobs were just threatening to spill out of your mouth. 
“I-Im sorry,” You whispered, rubbing your forehead as tears fell unconsciously from your eyes. Everyone was silent, watching you slowly fall apart. 
“Let me just clean this up,” You wiped the tears from your cheeks away but before you could reach over for a cloth, JJ stood in front of you. 
“Okay,” He said, reaching for your wrist and slowly removing the cloth from your grip. You stopped but you didn't want to because as soon as you stopped, everything was going to catch up to you. 
“Kie, can you run to the store with Pope to get some cheese? Any kind, just get cheese,” He ordered as he began leading you by the shoulders out of the kitchen. “John B, Sarah, can you help with the mess?”
Everyone nodded silently as you kept your head down and silent. JJ then turned and began pushing you to his room. He led you in and closed the door behind him. “Y/N, what the hell?” 
You kept your head down in embarrassment as you kept wiping away the tears that were falling out. “I’m fine-”
“No, you're not. And you need to tell me what's going on.” His voice sounded cold and firm and you hated it. You looked up at him and finally managed to look him in the eye. 
There was a softness in his gaze. He was worried. You could see the concern in his eyes and the crease in his brows that led you to think all he wanted to do was help you. 
“Nothing-” You wiped your cheeks and all the tears that were on them away. “Im just-”
You closed your mouth as you moved to the bed and sat on the edge, finally releasing the pain in your ankles. You felt so small and so vulnerable and so exhausted and you hated it all. You rubbed your temples and let your arms fall to your lap. 
“I'm so tired JJ,” You whisper as a single sob breaks through your lips and to JJ, it's heartbreaking. You finally break, right there in that room in front of him and for some reason, you can't bring yourself to care because of how mentally and physically tired you feel. 
JJ walks over and sits next to you. He wraps his arms around you and you cry into his chest. You let it all out, all the stress, the expectations you put on yourself, the insults. All of it. 
With every sob you let out, JJ’s heart broke a little more. He had seen you like this a few times before, but it never became easier. He wasn't the best at catching these things early, and you had a habit of keeping things to yourself until you reached your breaking point. 
“This is so stupid,” You said as you choke on your own words. “It's your birthday and I'm crying,”
JJ didn't say anything, he just let you rant. He did however slip his hand into yours and squeezed it reassuringly.
“People have been so mean to me at the wreck and I seem to be doing everything wrong. I've slept a total of 7 hours this week and I've been stressed with school and life because I have so many debts to pay like my rent, food and god my ankles hurt!” You groaned in annoyance. You stopped rambling and looked at him before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Today is your birthday.”
JJ furrowed his brow slightly. “It's your birthday and I wanted everything to be perfect and John B kinda threw me off with the stupid grilled cheese but it isn't his fault. It’s my fault for being so tense and I worked my ass off to get you something I don't think even lives up to what you deserve.”
JJ looked down at you, still in silence. “God, this is so stupid.” 
You pouted and sniffled as you finished your rant. 
“Are you done?” JJ asked, looking into your eyes. You looked back at him and sighed, nodding. 
“First of all, you are not stupid,” He rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb. “Second of all, why didn't you tell me you were so overworked and exhausted?”
You shrugged and looked away. “I didn't want you guys to have to worry.”
“I'm your boyfriend,” He said firmly. “I want to be able to carry these things with you and for you,”
You gave him a lopsided smile. “Who knew you could be so sappy?”
“I’m totally sappy,” He scoffed, not being able to contain his smile. “I just have to have the will to bring it out.”
You smiled down at your lap. But it soon fell into a frown. “I feel like I ruined your birthday.”
“Are you kidding me?” He said, hooking his finger beneath your chin in order to pull your gaze towards his. You stared at him with a pout. “Seeing you again today was the highlight of my week- being with you, is the highlight of my week.”
“I don't need fancy gestures or big huge presents, that's like, the kookiest thing ever,” You scanned the blue in his eyes carefully as a smile appeared on your face. “Being with you is enough.”
“Even if you're offered the world's best blunt to forget about me?” 
“Even if I was offered the world's best blunt to forget about you.” He leaned down and kissed you gently. JJ was willing to do anything for you, and so were you. The love you felt for this man was more than words could explain. You pulled away. 
“Here,” You pulled out a small little box from the back of your pocket and handed it to him with embarrassment. “It's stupid but, you know,”
JJ gave you one last look before he pulled out a small chain that had a surfboard pendant hanging on it. He carefully analyzed the surfboard and noticed that in the smallest size were both of your initials carved on the side of the miniature board. His mouth fell open before he closed it and smiled. He squeezed the pendant in his palm and looked up at you. 
You gave him a shy smile before he took your face into both his palms, gently squeezing your cheeks and grunting in frustration. “I love you woman.” 
“Ew, don’t call me woman.” You smiled widely and giggled as he peppered your face in soft kisses. He made sure to wipe away the last of your tears and suddenly, the only thing that hurt were your cheeks from smiling too much. And your ankles, maybe just a bit.
JJ cleared his throat. “Does this mean, you weren't planning on giving me any birthday sex..?”
“Perv,” You said, sticking your tongue out. You then however looked over at the closed door and gave the blonde a look. “How long until Pope and Kiara get back from the store?”
JJ smirked at you before pushing you back onto the bed and hovering over you as you erupted in laughter as he began placing kisses down your neck. “Who gives a shit.”
.•° ✿ °•.
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stiles-o-dylan24 · 5 months
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|| JJ Maybank x Cordelia || OBX Rewrite || TAGLIST ||  • JORDELIA🎶 • SHIPS OF OPOE •
Season One
Chapter 1 - Welcome Home
Chapter 2 - The Lucky Compass
Chapter 3 - The Forbidden Zone
Chapter 4 - Spy Games
Chapter 5 - Midsummers
Chapter 6 - Parcel 9
Chapter 7 - Dead Calm
Chapter 8 - The Runaway
Chapter 9 - The Bell Tower
Chapter 10 - The Phantom
Season Two
Chapter 11 - The Gold
Chapter 12 - The Heist
Chapter 13 - Prayers
Chapter 14 - Homecoming
Chapter 15 - The Darkest Hour
Chapter 16 - My Druthers
Chapter 17 - The Bonfire
Chapter 18 - The Cross
Chapter 19 - Trapped
Chapter 20 - The Coastal Venture
Season Three
Chapter 21 - Poguelandia
Chapter 22 - The Bells
Chapter 23 - Fathers and Sons
Chapter 24 - The Diary
Chapter 25 - Heists
Chapter 26 - The Dark Forest
Chapter 27 - Happy Anniversary
Chapter 28 - Tapping the Rudder
Chapter 29 - Welcome to Kitty Hawk
Chapter 30 - Secret of the Gnomon
Season Four
Chapter 31 -
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stvolanis · 22 days
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summer lovin’
PAIRINGS: JJ Maybank x priests daughter!OC
WARNINGS: foul language, religious imagery, unestablished relationship, JJ being JJ, mentions of marriage
NSFW WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, slight degradation, praise, pet names, biting, marking, overall cutesy sex
The heat was getting to JJ Maybank in more ways than one.
It started when his friend, who’s name he had no interest in remembering at a bonfire he attended with the rest of his friends, bet that he wouldn’t be able to fuck the priests daughter. Poor JJ didn’t even know who in the hell she was.
She was homeschooled, didn’t go to any parties and was rarely seen in town; having had all her food necessities at her little home-grown farm she lived on somewhere on figure eight. The only place people seen the jewel was every Sunday and Wednesday, bright and early, attending the local church’s 8AM service.
Now, jj by no means was a church man, but when this bet was laid upon him, best believe he was there bright and early in his best button up shirt, that just so happened to be his only button up shirt. His pants, perfectly starched to a crisp, and a cross pendant hung off of his necklace. The whole get-up, all for the priests daughter.
He was taken aback when he seen her for the first time. She was so different. Different form any of the other women he had ever met or seen on TV.
She was a small little thing. Dark brown hair braided with small pink ribbons on the end, and wispy bangs framed her porcelain-like face. Her eyes were a bright green, and if you were lucky, you’d be able to see them when they weren’t staring at her feet as if they were the most entertaining things she’d ever seen.
Her skin was pale, yet her face was scattered with disoriented freckles, almost from head to toe. Freckles covered her forehead to her nose, to her cheeks, down her neck and onto her shoulders that were revealed by her flowy sundress.
She followed her father around the busy church like a lost puppy, who had her mother hanging off of his arm like a proud trophy. Laylah, the priests daughter JJ was now so infatuated  with, only spoken when she was spoken to, and hid behind her family like the plague was near and out to get her.
He noticed that she played with the flowery rings on her finger when she was nervous, or when she grew bored from her parents talking to random, faceless people for too long. He’d watch Laylah tap her feet on the wood tile beneath her, creating a sense of beat before her father lightheartedly scolded her for being too loud, to which she’d mutter a small apology.
Laylah’s mother, who’s name was Christine, just so happened to be a part of Popes moms’ book club. JJ heard Mrs.Heyward call her christy when they’d laugh over tea, showing a sign of some familiarity. JJ was sure to intervene in Mrs.Heywards book club, much to Popes annoyance as he knew what was going on, with this new found knowledge if it meant getting closer to Laylah.
Laylah, on the other hand, had heard tales of JJ Maybank. All of them filled with vile rumors, yet nothing could have prepared her for the man that stood across the room so confidently.
His skin was tanned, probably from all the surfing he did when the waves were just right. She wondered if every man from the cut was as pretty as him. She shook her head from the thought with a blush coating her cheeks.
His hair was blonde, and messily grown out—yet it suited him. A strand fell onto his forehead, and her hand itched to reach up and fix it, but she knew she couldn’t. She’d never hear the end of it from either of her parents.
“That boy is such trouble, nowadays.” Her mother, Christine, would say at the dinner table. “Yknow, I heard he was caught stealing from the fish-mart, Isn’t that absurd?” She’d gossip to her husband, who nodded his head absent mindedly as he stared at his news paper. Laylah would just roll her green eyes.
JJ wasn’t an idiot. He knew when he was being eye fucked, so it was no surprise when that cocky smirk of his pulled at his lips when he caught her red handed eyeing him from head to toe.
He was aware of the female attention. Used to it, even—as cocky as it sounded. A quick fuck was all they ever were to him, and that’s all they’d ever stay. No one had ever come close to catching his interest, and JJ wanted to keep it that way, but you were making it so unbelievably hard for him.
He knew he’d have to settle down one day, but he had always dreaded the idea. Surprisingly enough, not because he’d have to be loyal, but because of the sheer commitment. He’d make a lousy, controlling, jealousy and possessive boyfriend…imagine how’d he’d be if he became someone’s fucking husband.
Laylah was different from the women who he was used to having one night stands with, and he he could tell this without even having to approach her.
She was sweet, pretty, quiet, innocent and obedient—but obedient in a way where he felt like she bit back her tongue a lot. Like she had a lot on her mind, but her voice was too weak to be heard. She was always expected to listen and do her school work at home, and do the chores her father assigned, but she longed to be a teenager.
She longed to go out and have fun, meet people and actually have friends. JJ knew she’d love the rest of the pogues, and she’d fit in just right. Laylah wanted to party, and maybe even drink. Maybe even meet a boy or a girl who peaked her interest—but she knew she never could. She laughed at the idea in her head. How silly of her to think such things?
This was her life. Being the priests quiet, obedient daughter.
JJ was like a breath of fresh air, as she was to him, too. They lived two completely different lives in two completely different worlds that finally decided to collide on the outskirts of a warn-down church.
When he watched her walk outside, he knew he’d be stupid not to follow suit.
She sat on the steps of walk way leading up to the church, and he watched like a creep as she pulled out a bubble-gun lollipop from her bag and stuff it into her mouth with a sigh. JJ smiled before making himself known by taking a seat next to her.
Her mouth fell agape for a moment, like a fish out of water. She didn’t know what she should say, or what she should do. Maybe she should run back inside, or run for the hills? No, that couldn’t be right. This wasn’t right. But it felt like it was.
“You’re a cute little thing, aren’t ya?” He chuckled out, fishing out one of his joints from his back pocket. She gawked as she watched him light it, bringing it to his mouth and taking an easy puff right outside the steps of Gods house.
“I-I’m not supposed to talk to you.” She admitted, looking down at the lollipop that embarrassing had fallen out of her mouth when she was gawking at him. He smiled, almost knowingly. “Whys that?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.
“You’re a bad man, JJ. That’s what my momma said.” Laylah spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. JJ grabbed his shirt covered chest, feigning pain. “Ouch. Broke my cold heart, baby.” He said, smiling when he saw a ghost of a smile paint her pretty lips.
“You don’t seem bad.” She said after a while of silence, glancing over at him. He shook his head. “I’m the worst.” He admitted, though lightheartedly. She hummed in acknowledgement. “I think I’ll decide that for myself, mister.”
JJ smiled.
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From that point on JJ Maybank was completely enraptured with the small girl.
He made sure to come to church every Sunday bright and early just to be able to see her, and when no one was looking, the two of them would sneak out and talk till the service was over and she had to leave with her parents.
She learned that the rumors of JJ being a thief were half-heartedly true. He admitted that he had stolen a few things here and there, but only when he really needed to. He trusted you enough to know about his troubles at home, and how stealing was the only way to make sure he was able to live comfortably.
Of course, it upset her. She hated that he had to go through what he did, and she knew he deserved better than what life had dealt him. She was glad he didn’t try to sugar coat it like everyone else seemed to when they spoke to her. Everyone treated Laylah like she was a child, and she just had to take it.
But JJ—he made her feel like a woman.
He listened to her when no one else cared to, and he comforted her in his own odd way with understanding. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, he listened to ever honey-covered word that slipped past her plump lips like they were law. He clung to every sentence, and every laugh.
He wanted to know how many more laughs she had. Besides her usual giggle, he wanted to count them all. He wanted to know what made her upset, and what kept her up at night. He wanted to scare every bad thing away. Chase away her worries and woes, just to see that smile he grew to adore so much.
What was once a bet was turning into so much more, and JJ didn’t know how to feel about it. He wasn’t used to the feeling of caring for someone ever since his mom. He didn’t want to hurt her, like he seemed to hurt everyone else. She was delicate and sensitive, and like Christine said, he was a bad man. No good for a girl like Laylah Moore.
Fear consumed JJ at one point when he caught himself daydreaming about a life he didn’t know he’d enjoy while in the middle of class.
The thought of coming home to Laylah after a hard day. The house smelling of his favorite food, roasting warm in the oven. She’d turn around with a sweet smile one her face, kissing all over him while letting out little “I missed yous” and “how was work?”. He could picture himself wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as they swayed together, a slow song playing in the background.
He shook himself from the thought with furrowed brows. it was unfair. All of it. He knew she would never be able to be with a man like him—and it was a thought he’d have to shake out of his head.
But till you realized that, he’d have her in every way he could.
So there the both of them were, sat snug on Laylah’s pink sheets. Her legs were spread and trembling as JJs fingers slipped past the band of her underwear, working at her sensitive bud. His fingers teased at her entrance as her hand gripped on to his upper arm; nails digging into his muscle when he entered her knuckles deep.
Her mouth hung agape as wayward moans fell from her lips that were swollen from JJs relentless attacks on them. “Shh, honey. Know it feels good, but y’gotta be quiet, mama.” He cooed as he curled his finger, making her walls clamp around his fingers.
“Don’t want your daddy to find out that his daughters a whore for pogue dick, hm?” He mocked, his free hand coming up to wrap around the base of your throat tightly. Laylah whimpered, biting down on her lips to suppress her moans.
“Can I stuff this pretty pussy, baby? Hm? Want my cock to fill you up?” He asked, his breath leveled with your ear. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her head way thrown back onto his shoulder as she felt her end near. “S’wrong, JJ! have to wait f’marriage.” She slurred.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Gonna marry you anyway, pretty baby.” He said, not realizing what he said till Laylah’s doe eyes peered up at him. “Really, JJ?” She asked with hopeful eyes.
Fuck. How could he say no now?
“Course, s’long as you let me use this cunt whenever I want.” He replied, kissing the side of her cheek sloppily. Her bottom lip sat snug between her teeth, deep in thought. JJs fingers had long slipped away from her pussy, and his fingers that were still coated in her slick tenderly rubbed at her thighs.
“S’gonna hurt. That’s what my friend told me.” She muttered, doubts creased into a frown. JJ rolled his eyes. “Just gonna hurt for a second. It’ll feel good right after, promise.” He reassured. God he wanted to beat up the stupid friend who told her that. Making his life harder than it needed to be.
“Pinky promise, JJ?” She asked, holding out her manicured pinky. His interlocked with hers, and in a flash, JJs cock was aligned with her entrance—her juices spilling over and acting as a lubricant as he slid his cock between her folds.
His chest swelled with pride as he watched the way her eyes never left his cock, almost frightened. “Too big, JJ. S’not gonna fit.” She said, shaking her head back and forth. “I’ll fuckin’ make it fit.” He huffed out.
His fat tip prodded at Laylah’s entrance, teasingly almost before he plunged his cock inside of her with one harsh thrust. Her eyes widened and tears pricked her eyes as the stinging pain in her lower region began to become too much. It felt like she was being torn in half. “Take it out, JJ! Hurts too bad!” She cried out.
He wiped the tears from her eyes, kissing her trembling lips. “I know, shh, I know. Just give it a second, yeah? It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He whispered, kissing anywhere his lips could reach to distract her from the pain. She clung onto him; her nails digging into his back. A trophy he’d later wear when he goes out surfing with his friends.
His cock sat inside of her, and she could feel the twitch of his cock, and the way he pulsed inside of her. God, it took him everything in him to not start fucking her into oblivion. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it, and he didn’t want to further hurt her.
So, he waited. And as soon as she breathed out a small whimper that sounded more of pleasure than pain, he slowly began to rock his hips into her. “See? S’not that bad, pretty baby.” He grunted out, throwing her legs over his shoulders and wrapping his arms around her thighs tightly.
Her mind felt fuzzy with bliss as his tip kissed her cervix. Her hand reached to cup the side of JJs cheek, and he froze for just a moment. Her touch was tender, and so fucking full of love. The love he craved but was to afraid to accept. But he’d accept it for her. He’d do anything for her.
He melted into her touch, and his lips crashed down onto hers as he began to pick up his pace again. Their lips molded together perfectly, and nothing could prepare JJ for the words that slipped past her lips next. “I love you.” She said, but it was barely above a whisper.
He didn’t hesitate with his response. “I love you too.” He said, digging his face into the crook of her neck, planting a soft kiss. Laylah’s hands tangled in his hair as her legs wrapped around his waist, securing his position inside of her as she felt her stomach tighten.
“I feel weird, JJ.” She moaned, her head lulled to the side as he smothered her neck with kisses, and laid fresh hickies on her breasts. “Just let it go, baby. Squirt f’me. Know you can, baby, give it to me.” He moaned out against her, his thumb traveling down to play with her clit.
“O-Oh God!” She moaned out, the grip she had on his hair slightly tightening, almost painfully, but JJ didn’t care. He rather enjoyed it. “Not God, sweetheart. Me. Say it. Say my fuckin’ name.” He urged, biting down on her nipple painfully.
“JJ!” She moaned out again and again like it was a prayer, but was muffled by his hand clasping around her mouth to quiet her noises. She was wrapped so tightly around him, and he just barely managed to pull out when he reached his peak.
JJ’s cum painted across Laylah’s lower stomach, almost beautifully against her pale skin. Her chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as she watched JJ jerk himself off a few more times, his cock releasing a few more drops from his mushroom tip.
He looked so pretty like this. Mouth hung open as he panted, and the small mound of blonde hair that sat atop his cock was drenched in her fluids. His hair matted to his forehead from sweat, and that boyish smile dancing on his face as he moved the hair out of her face.
It felt right now. Laylah was no longer ashamed of her feelings, nor was she afraid of what figure eight would say when she would bring JJ along with her as a personal plus one at an important meeting of her mothers.
Before, she was living, yet she never really felt alive. She drug herself out day by day, like an endless cycle of disparity and orders. She hated getting out of bed, as there was never anything for her to look forward to throughout the day. Nothing to keep her going. She was just there.
And as she laid on top of his chest, tracing stars over the muscle of his arm, she felt content. she felt happy. She felt free. And most of all, she felt alive.
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don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!
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rafeswhorejjsslut · 2 months
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If you have time, could u do like.. A jealousy smut with jj? 🤭 LIKEEE, you've been hangin with JB all day and it has jj all green eyed till he can't take it and shows u who you belong too 🤭🤭
no bc this is so JJ.
it had been a long day of all the royals merchant clues and adventures and it just felt good to sit down. and that’s what you did. about .5 seconds later John B sat next to you with a beer in hand. “Seriously?” you say as you look between the beer and John B and give him a small smile.
“You want a sip?” He ask as he gestures the beer to you but before you could answer JJ answers for you.
“She’s not thirsty dude.” JJ said as he sits up slightly, eyeing the both of you. you give him a confused look but shrug it off and it only pisses him off more. “Ya’ know John B why don’t you go home.”
John B chuckles as he knows where this is going and he shrugs “It’s my house.” he says nonchalantly before taking a sip of his beer. You roll your eyes and JJ stands up.
and not even fifteen minutes later you find yourself ass up being pounded into. letting out the most pathetic sounds. “Yeah? think John B could fuck you this good?” he says, delivering a harsh slap to your ass making you whimper.
“Fucking pathetic.” he says say he quickens his pace making you squeeze your eyes shut. “JJ! fuck!” you whine out.
“Yeah? i feel you squeezing me. gonna cum on my dick?” He asks with a chuckle as his hands find your hips and he pulls you to meet him.
“s-so close!” you moan out and he smacks your ass again. “Yeah? cum for me. show me how good i make you feel baby.”
(this feels…rushed.)
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featherandferns · 17 days
Text
orange juice (fic)
jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by noah kahn's incredible music
content warning: mentions of drinking and drug use; mentions of abuse; mentions of bodily harm (vague, non-graphic); sexual content | feel free to message me with questions of detail if any of this concerns you before reading!
word count: 7.5k
blurb: in the most unlikely of settings, you and JJ reunite after five years apart in radio silence.
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“You know, on my way here, I saw a dead rat.”
A cloud of cigarette smoke dispels into the air.
“It was funny, you know? Cause I felt bad that it was dead, even though it was a rat. I mean, I knew nobody was going to miss it, and that it didn’t have any rat family or friends which would mourn it or anything. But still…It looked like it had been hit by a car, and it was only small so it didn’t look very old, and it seemed so harmless lying there. It probably had a million and one diseases, but just laying there, it seemed harmless. And it felt weird to be sad about this thing dying which would have only maybe caused more damage if it had stayed alive – nibbling through electrical wires and all that.”
JJ takes another drag of his cigarette as he digests the anecdote.
“Anyway. This just made me think of that,” you quietly finish before sinking back into the silence.
“Did you just compare my dad’s funeral to a dead rat?”
You clear your throat. JJ watches in his peripheral as you look down at your feet and fidget your fingers.
“Shit, I guess I did.”
His eyes cut ahead the moment yours seem to flick up.
“Can’t believe that’s the first thing I’ve said to you in years.”
JJ inhales and exhales the nicotine of his cigarette. “Well, I can.”
That makes you laugh. Small and sheltered.
“I weren’t sure that you were going to come,” JJ tells you.
“Could say the same thing to you,” you reply.
Sighing, he drops the cigarette and crushes it under the heel of his boot. He probably should have worn smarter shoes. But then, why would he? Waste of money and space in his truck. Not like his dad was going to see them anyway.
“I only decided yesterday. Practically drove all night.” As if reminding himself of the sleep deprivation, JJ lets out a yawn.
“How is it, being back in Kildare?” you wonder.
JJ shrugs. “Weird. But also not weird at all. I guess I just feel old. I was driving through town and everything looks different.”
“I mean, it has been five years.”
“Jesus,” JJ chuckles, shaking his head. Had it really been that long?
He shoves his hands in his pant pockets and finally finds the nerve to take you in. His eyes scan over you like one might survey potential damage to a car after a close call. He never lets them go below your waist though. As if losing nerve, he flicks them back up to your head and meets your eyes.
“You look well.”
“Thanks. Right back at ya,” you smile.
With that smile – sweet and simple – JJ finds himself being hurled back through time to his teen years. The reminiscing of his youth and the memories that your presence stirs up feels like reflecting on a past life. Something that he almost had, and something that he didn’t exactly lose, but something that changed.
Everything had changed, really. The streets that he used to drive down with his friends, running away from security and darting to and from keggers and house parties, they all had new homes, new paint, new families. Old mom-and-pop shops were now trendy smoothie spots and hippie bars. Empty plots of land that were a good spot to share a joint had now been bought and developed into stylish holiday rentals. None of JJ’s family was left here, not even his cousin. None of his friends were here anymore either. Well, except for you. Is that what you were to him? A friend?
“It was a nice service,” you say.
“Was it?”
For someone like Luke Maybank, ‘nice’ is probably a generous term for a funeral service that’s void of cheery anecdotes and tender memories. It’s a shame that all the memories JJ held in high regard of his father – of the moments that they were bonded and close – often came with the overarching theme of alcohol or drugs. He wasn’t sure there was ever a genuine moment shared between the two. Whatever praise and pride he gathered from his dad was short lived and sparse. When his dad left the island on the boat he stole, JJ never heard from him again. And now he never would.
“Did they ask if you wanted to say anything?”
“What’s there to say? He was a guy and he died in a bender. Short and simple, I guess.”
You nod and go silent once more.
JJ knows that his answer evaded the politeness markers of small talk, but it was true. Luke Maybank was a human who lived on this earth with no mark to be left apart from those which he laid on his own child. The only way that he’d be remembered was in the nightmares that still sometimes have JJ waking up in cold sweats and reaching for the box of cigarettes by his bed.
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have come,” you say.
“No, it’s not…” JJ shakes his head and offers you a smile, but he knows it looks unnatural. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling right now. Perhaps everything, if that’s even possible. “I’m glad you came. I’m just tired and…well, you know.”
The funeral of my father.
“Right. Of course.”
He watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and glance towards the graves. He remembers how you used to do that when you were both younger. It was funny to him: you’d go through the fuss of trying your hair back in one way or another, but you’d always leave out a couple of strands. “To frame my face” you’d tell him, and then you’d precede to spend the rest of the day tucking your hair behind your ears. He liked it though. When you’d be concentrating on something, like surfing or fixing something up or writing, you’d lean forward and they’d come lose and hang over your pretty features. He’d want to mess with them; tuck them behind your ears for you. Sometimes he did. He remembers when you’d be on top of him, kissing him senseless, and they’d come lose and tickle his face. Somehow it would make the whole thing more sensual, with his laughs and your giggles.
He feels his face flush as the memories of nights like those creep back into his head. He shouldn’t think of you like that, not after all this time. Not with how things turned out. And especially not at his father’s funeral.
JJ had come over to you once his father was safely tucked away in the ground, six feet under. You’d attended the service at the church, hiding near the back, and then the burial, and as everybody else departed to give JJ ‘a moment’ (whatever the hell that meant), he’d turned to find you stood near a bench, lost in thought.
“It was nice of you to come,” JJ thanks.
“I’m surprised none of the others are here.”
“They don’t know. I sort of kept it close to the chest,” JJ admits. “I’m actually impressed by the turnout.”
You go to laugh and JJ sees you stifle it. It helps him ease up, smile a real smile for a second, as wicked as that sounds.
“People have layers, I guess.”
“Not my dad.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
You meet his gaze again. Your eyes make it clear that you haven’t shed a tear and neither had JJ. He wasn’t sure if maybe that would come later, once the so-called shock had worn off. He doubted it though. And yet, there was a haze of sadness about him. Death is weird as a whole. The death of a parent like JJ’s, even weirder. Maybe it wasn’t just the funeral causing the sadness. Maybe it was you.
JJ makes a move to leave but before he can even shift his foot one whole step, you’re talking.
“Do you wanna come back to mine? We could catch up. I’m sure you’ve been doing all sorts since I last saw you. Maybe have a drink or two, for old times’ sake?”
“Oh, I don’t drink anymore.”
“Oh,” you say. A pause for thought, then, “well, I have orange juice.”
It’s a strange thing to offer in place of a bottle of beer or glass of wine. Most people would say a cup of coffee. But no - orange juice: that’s where your mind went. It makes JJ smile. It seems so on-par for you to offer him that.
“Okay. Sure. Orange juice sounds good.”
“Do you need a moment, before we leave?” you ask, glancing back over your shoulder to the gravesite of JJ’s deceased father.
The dirt atop of his plot is fresh and stark brown against the green grass. JJ stares a second. The groundkeeper is dusting some muck off the gravestone. The funeral director had offered him a fine granite with award winning chiselling, after recognising JJ from the articles of El Dorado and assuming some high-placed budget. JJ had opted for a simple thing though. Cheap and likely to be hard to read within half a decade. It’s what Luke deserved. Probably what he would have invested into JJ, if the roles were reversed.
“No, I don’t. We can go,” JJ says, voice vacant. He looks back to you. “I’ll drive.”
You don’t live in your childhood home anymore. The place that you’ve settled in is a small home in a sweet looking neighbourhood. In fact, it seems the only part of Kildare that feels familiar to JJ. The front garden is quaint but well kept, with trimmed grass and flower beds that clearly garner a lot of attention and care. The fence is in need of a lick of paint: the blue fading and peeling. A sticky note is attached to the door frame of the front door and it makes JJ smile. ‘Doorbell’s fucked – shout “ding dong” really loud’.
“This is a step up,” JJ says.
“Nice, right? My neighbour is a dick though. Always complaining that I leave my driveway light on in the middle of the night. As if I can even afford to that.”
JJ chuckles as he follows you inside. There’s an instant warm smell that hits him. JJ can’t seem to describe it in any other way than that it smells like you. The interior is safe and homely. The wallpaper and wooden floors pair nicely with the throw pillows and crystals and plants and flowers. Fairy lights are strung from end to end. A kitchen, open plan, feeds nicely into a sitting room. A dining table is tucked in the corner which seemingly functions more as a desk: books piled atop with sheets of paper strewn out. There’s a small corridor to the right and the walls are lined with framed pictures which JJ can’t make out from where he’s stood. He assumes it must lead to a bathroom and bedroom. It isn’t unlived in though. There’s a small pile of clothes which need ironing; they’re sat in a basket, next to the TV. Near the backdoor is an arts and crafts project of some kind strewn about on the floor in organised chaos, blocking the exit.
It's still early in the afternoon so you don’t bother flicking on a light, instead opting to soak in the last few hours of daylight before dusk. Kie used to compare you to a cat, basking in the sun and chasing the rays until there was none left to follow.
JJ closes the door behind him and leans against it.
“You can take your shoes off, if you want.”
“Alright,” he mumbles. He toes them off and kicks them to the side, amongst a pile of your own. He notices how there’s nobody else’s shoes there: just yours, and now his.
You pour out two glasses of orange juice and turn around, handing one to him. He takes it, lost in thought. It all feels surreal, stood here with you, after a five-year pause. When you go to the sofa to sit, he assumes he should follow. You sit on opposite ends. A part of him wonders why you haven’t stretched out your legs and dumped your feet in his lap. ‘These stink’, JJ jokes, poking your toes. You wiggle his fingers off. ‘Shut up, no they don’t.’ Force of habit: he always seems to get stuck on that past. Instead, you go to pull one of your legs up onto the sofa, and JJ flicks his eyes around the room another time. He sips his juice.
“So…” You start. “Any news?”
“Well, my dad died, so there’s that.”
You kick out your leg, aiming for his thigh. “Come on now. Be serious.”
“I am; you were at the funeral. Thought you might remember that,” JJ jokes.
Rolling your eyes mirthfully, you have a sip of your juice. The sun paints shapes on the coffee table, weaving through the thin curtains that line your window. It makes your skin glow, healthy and happy. He’s torn between staring at your face and remembering every detail of your features and avoiding you completely.
“When did you move in here? It’s nice.”
“About two years ago. Mom and dad are still at the old place. They’ve rented out my room though, for tourists and stuff.”
“That’s nice of them,” JJ snorts. “How’s your brother? Is he doing good?”
“He is. He’s at college actually. Graduates later this year.”
“The fuck? That’s so trippy,” JJ mumbles, almost to himself.
JJ can remember your brother as nothing more than a preteen, sulking around the house and begging for rides to soccer practice. Now he’s nearly got a whole ass degree. His eyes naturally fixate on the dining-table-come-desk in the corner.
“What do you do for work then?”
“I’m a teacher at Kildare high.”
Of course you are. JJ smiles, eyes still fixated on the table. It seems to prompt you to continue.
“It’s kinda weird sometimes cause some of the old farts still work there,” you say.
“Oh shit. Mr Rumble still there?” JJ asks, perking up a little, meeting your gaze.
You laugh. “Mr Rummel does still work there, yeah. Still likes to bring you up to me, actually.”
“Really? In what way?”
“Just likes to add the odd little ‘you remember when your boyfriend used to steal my stapler’ kinda things.”
JJ’s laugh is different this time. The word ‘boyfriend’ coming out of your mouth has his thoughts short circuiting. You glance down at your juice and swirl it around the cup.
“Anyway, it’s a pretty good gig. I like teaching, and I actually think I’m making a difference to some of these kids lives sometimes, which is sort of strange.”
“I bet you are. You were always good at helping people,” JJ tells you. Your smile turns soft.
“Thanks, JayJ.”
The nickname is like another sucker punch to the chest. JJ takes it like a champ. Washes it down with water; pretends there’s vodka in there somewhere.
“How are the others, then?” you ask. “How are they?”
“Good. Happy. John B and Sarah are expecting a kid soon.”
“Fuck off.”
“No joke,” JJ laughs. He leans back into the sofa, reclining in the soft throw pillows. It’s strange how easily relaxed he is in this new setting. “They’re debating between two names. Esmeralda or Eton.”
“No. Please God, tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish,” JJ snorts. “Not that I got much of a leg to stand on.”
“What do you mean?” you frown. You lean over and place your juice down on the coffee table.
“JJ? Kinda dumb name.” JJ has a sip of his own before mirroring your actions.
“Hardly. ‘John James’ is pretty proper sounding to me.”
“Meh.” JJ shrugs and props an arm up on the back of the sofa.
“What about Kie, and Pope?”
“Kie is on her environmentalist shit. Investing in rebuilding the coral and things. Pope is studying like crazy. Got a good job lined up too.”
“Only Pope would get a degree when he has literal gold in his savings,” you chuckle. “Didn’t you buy a shop too, or something?”
“A little surf shop with John B, yeah,” JJ nods, smiling proud. The surf shop is something that he would always take pride in. What felt like a pipedream was now his nine-to-five. “It’s doing real good, actually. We’re thinking about expanding.”
“Well, that’s good,” you say, nodding. The two of you lock eyes. Your smile holds steady. “I’m happy for you, JJ. Really.”
“Thanks,” he says. “I’m glad you’re doing good, too.”
And now the polite small talk is over and the catch-up is done. It’s so bizarre seeing someone again after so long. So many things in life have passed – relationships, jobs, fights, conversations, achievements, ailments – but when you finally come to sum it up, it only takes ten minutes. Going through a heartbreak lasts for months, but then a year later and the relationship is summed up in a sentence or two. Time doesn’t only heal, but it also shrinks. It seems to have shrunk whatever used to exist between yourself and JJ too, as you both sit, searching for things to talk about which avoid the dark and ugly. Things which avoid the obvious.
“Do you think you’ll stick around in Kildare for a bit?”
“I don’t know. I ain't really thought about it,” JJ admits. “I weren't even sure if I was gonna go to the funeral.”
“Where are you staying tonight?” you wonder.
He laughs to himself and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. Probably just crash in my truck.”
“You’re loaded as fuck and you’re gonna crash in your truck?” you laugh. It isn’t mean when you say it. Just amused.  
“I don’t know. You don’t really get used to having money when you grew up without it. I still feel guilty buying a new pair of boots or something when my old ones ain't coming apart at the soles and shit.”
You nod. “That makes sense. Eminem had a similar thing.”
“Yeah, I’ve always thought me and Eminem were similar,” JJ deadpans.
It seems to strike well with you because you’re cracking up, laughing like he’s just told the best joke you’ve ever heard. He smiles. He always liked making you laugh. You have a horrendous laugh: truly awful. Cats in a bag being bashed against the wall-howling dog parade level of terrible. JJ loved it though. He used to tickle you just to hear it. Watching you now, head titled back, eyes shut and mouth agape, guffawing like a damn hyena…He feels like throwing up.
“Sorry, that…That was good,” you chuckle, wiping your eyes and catching your breath. “You were always good at making me laugh.”
“Fuck knows why,” JJ chuckles.
“Cause you’re funny,” you reply, as if its obvious. “You were always funny.”
It’s strange how the tone of the conversation rises and falls like a mountain range the longer the two of you sit on the sofa.
Your smile turns sombre, like when someone reminisces over a funny memory of their dead pet. Nice at first, amused, and then dampened with the reminder that those times have passed.
“It’s weird, to be honest. You’re so different now but you’re also still JJ.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. You glance around the room for a moment, as if you’d find the answer hidden in code on the spine of the books stacked on the windowsill. You look at him again. “Your face looks different.”
“It does?” JJ asks. He lifts a hand and strokes his jaw. He could do with a shave, he supposes. The vanity tries to bite through to ask how, but before he can, you’re talking again.
“You don’t drink,” you add, nodding to the orange juice still sat on the coffee table. “You’re quieter. Less…”
You seem to lose the words and so you gesture with your hands. Explosion.
“Calmer. Sadder, but not sad.”
“I can’t tell if these are good things or not,” JJ says, half-joking.
“You look at me different too.”
That makes him pause. He meets your eyes and holds your gaze, steady. The whole room shifts in a moment, from carefree catch-up to tense confrontation.
“Different?”
“Yeah. You look at me different.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” JJ mutters, going to reach for his drink.
“Yes, you do, JJ.”
Your smile is gone now. He can tell, catching it from his peripheral. Suddenly he doesn’t want to be here. Doesn���t want to be in Kildare, doesn’t want to be in this house, in this room.
“You could at least acknowledge it, you know?”
“I don’t understand—”
“It’s actually more rude to not acknowledge it,” you snip.
“I’m not being rude, I’m just making conversation. You’re the one who’s got me on blast like you’re some God damn therapist,” JJ hits back, meeting your steely stare.
“You feel like you’re on blast?”
“I feel like I’m being observed, that’s for fucking sure.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe you are being observed, JJ,” you return, voice harsh and cutting like how a blade slices through paper. “Because it’s fucking weird having you back.”
“You’re the one that invited me here.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” you say.
JJ takes a breath and closes his eyes. The anger never went away, despite what you’ve just told him, he just got older. Got better at hiding it. Got enough money to try therapy. He takes another moment to breathe through it. Push it down his throat and back into his stomach and let it burn out in the acid.
“I’m sorry,” you quietly say. The venom is gone. “I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”
He isn’t sure why – can’t pinpoint a perfect reason behind it – but behind his eyelids, JJ feels tears swell. Feels his lips twitch like a child when they hit their funny bone. His next breath in is shaky.
“JJ?”
“Just…”
His voice cracks and he clears it, shaking his head. He wants to open his eyes but he’s scared he’ll start crying, and he’s not doing that, not right now, not today. It’s not even you. You’d seen him cry before. Held him through it and patched him up; made him smile after the sadness. But he refuses to cry today because he can’t give his dad that satisfaction, even if it’s not about him. Opening his eyes, no tears escape. He reaches for the juice and downs it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” he snaps. Then, softer, “please.”
You nod. There’s a quiet. Then, you move to stand and he closes his eyes again because it’s a struggle for you to stand. It’s a struggle. He rubs a hand over his mouth as if trying to shove the welling emotions back inside. There’s the sound of running water in the background as JJ tries to gather himself. The crack-crack-crack of a gas stove turning on and then the clink of metal on metal. You’ve put the kettle on, boiling water. There’s the tinker of porcelain mugs being taken off a stand. He seems to zone in on the peaceful sounds of you making coffee.
When you pour water into the mugs, he remembers the sound of your voice years back. ‘Did you know humans have the ability to hear the difference between hot and cold water being poured?’ ‘Why the fuck do you know that?’ ‘I don’t know. Just thought it was interesting.’
As the teaspoon repeatedly brushes against the inside of the cup as you stir in the instant coffee and milk, JJ finally feels all the emotions even out. As your footsteps make their way back over to him, you flick on the lamp by the front door. JJ opens his eyes to see you place a steaming cup of Joe in front of him on the coffee table. The mug is cute. It’s peach pink and says “I’m drinking tea instead of committing crimes” on the front in an innocent type-writer print.
“Cute mug.”
“Thanks. Thought of you.”
He silently laughs. You sit closer to him this time and your mug sits next to his. There’s no funny quote written across the paint. Then your hand is on his back, barely rubbing him, and it hits JJ that this is the first time you’ve touched him in five years.
“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry,” you tell him. “It ain’t my place to say any of that. Especially not today.”
“It’s true, though. That’s the kicker, ain’t it? That it’s true,” JJ replies.
He sighs and leans back, sitting upright once more. Your hand falls away and you clasp it in the other in your lap. He glances down and takes in your side profile. That stupid piece of hair has come lose again, fallen in your face. He distracts his twitching fingers by twisting one of his rings.
“I’m okay, you know,” you tell him. You look up and meet his eyes. Yours are damp with emotion, just like his were moments earlier. “I’m really okay.”
“You almost weren’t though.”
“Is that the problem? That I almost wasn’t?”
“It’s not the problem. You were never a problem.”
“I ain't mean it like that,” you tell him. You shake your head and JJ isn’t entirely sure why. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Am I the reason that you left Kildare?”
A bird calls outside and JJ seems to latch onto it like a lifeline. That question makes him feel stranded and scared. He wasn’t ready for it despite being fully prepared.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I…It ain't that simple.”
“Can you explain it to me, maybe?” you wonder. There’s no wrath to your tone anymore – no vendetta against him. There’s just curiosity and care, and this wonderful tenderness that JJ always associated with you from day one, when you offered him your cap to keep his hair off his face.
“I didn’t like the person I was in Kildare.”
“Okay,” you quietly say.
“I didn’t like how I acted. I didn’t like how reckless I was, and how I didn’t care who got hurt in the process.”
“Like me?”
JJ swallows. He doesn’t tear his eyes from yours though. “Yeah. Like you.”
“Okay,” you repeat, quieter still, nodding.
“After El Dorado, coming back here, everything felt tainted. I just…I needed to escape it. My dad and my past and…And you. I couldn’t face it. I felt like I’d caused some freak accident and had gotten away, and then I'd come back to face the aftermath and I just couldn’t stomach it. I just ran.”
You nod.
“I just ran,” he hears himself repeat. “And I’m not proud of it. Of any of it.”
“Okay.”
“And I wanted to fix things, but I didn’t know how. Every time I thought of coming back to Kildare, or picking up the phone, or going on Instagram and finding you…I just got so fucking scared, like a stupid shithead kid. I was so scared of becoming the guy I was again.”
And, again, you nod. When he doesn’t continue, you fill the space. “How long have you been sober?”
“The minute I left Kildare.”
“Fuck.”
“Cold turkey. It sucked ass. It still does. You don’t miss it any less. I miss the rage too, sometimes. I miss my dad sometimes, too. Miss him beating on me. How fucked up is that? That I miss him beating on me?”
You don’t seem to know what to say to that. You just look down at the coffee mugs and watch how the steam is slowly but surely going away.
“I am sorry. I know that ain't worth anything, but I am sorry.”
“It is worth something.” You clear your throat, voice coming out stronger when you say, “It’s worth everything.”
Your smile comes back, timid and tiny. You meet eyes for the millionth time that night.
“It feels like I’ve been ready for you to come back, for so long, and now you’re actually here and…I don’t even know where to start.” He watches your tongue dart out and wet your lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to look so good.”
“Disappointed?”
“Massively. I would have got my ass in the gym more if I knew it was a Goddamn competition.”
JJ smiles. “You were always a sore loser.”
“Says you,” you snort.
There’s another peak in the conversation after the long slug of the last dip. It’s so bizarre. So wonderfully bizarre.
“I’m proud of you, for getting sober. Do you feel better for it?”
“Depends.”
“Well, you look better for it,” you say.
“You’re drooling, I think,” JJ teases, reaching a finger out to prod your cheek.
Rolling your eyes, you mirthfully bat his hand away. “You’re hallucinating.”
“Well, withdrawal does crazy things,” he quips back.
You chuckle and shake your head. “I missed you like crazy.”
“I miss you too.”
Your lips part a little with that. Miss. You seem to hesitate to hold his gaze then, like it’s too intense. JJ feels as though he can see every emotion flash across your face in a second, like watching a car crash in slow motion. Surprise, shock, joy, anger, then sadness. It’s that sadness that hammers hard when you speak, voice weak.
“You left without saying anything, JJ. For five years. You just left me.”
“Don’t make it sound like that. Like I abandoned you.”
“But you did,” you whisper. The tears are back. You’ve both fallen from the top of the mountain. “You abandoned me.”
“You don’t get it,” JJ replies, voice suddenly thick.
“I was in it with you.”
“You didn’t see it,” JJ forces out. His tears are falling: they didn’t wait this time. “You didn’t see how it looked – how you looked. You looked so fucking fragile and tiny and small and your leg was so bent and twisted and black – it was black – and I thought you were already dead.”
Your breathing is shaky and broken. The two of you sit on your sofa in the sunset, eyes locked, tears streaming, chests heaving like you’ve run a marathon. The word ‘dead’ hangs in the air and haunts the room.
“I thought you were dead, and I thought it was because of me.”
“Do you hate me for it?”
“Why the fuck would I—”
“Because I didn’t die? Do you hate me for it?”
JJ blinks back his bewilderment. He physically shifts back in his seat, as if you just spat in his face. Horrified, he tells you, “Of course I don’t. Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because I’m still here, JJ. But you acted like I wasn’t for five years. You didn’t even come see me in the hospital. Didn’t sit with me in the ambulance. Hell, you can’t even look at my leg now! You think I didn’t notice? At the graveyard, and now. You think I can’t see it on your face?”
JJ whispers your name in a tearful plea. Stop.
“I’m still here, JJ. And I invited you back here, and I went to the funeral, because I wanted to see you.”
“To show me what I did?” JJ asks, harsher than needed.
You hold his gaze. “To show you I’m okay.”
He shakes his head, insistent. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t been drinking and if I’d been thinking straight, I would have never let you jump off the bike like that. It was fucking reckless and stupid and I would never, ever do it again. It was all my fault.”
“I don’t care who’s fault it was, JJ,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out and traces his cheek and jaw, and he can’t help but lean into your warm touch. There you sit, cradling his face as if he was the victim in this whole thing. It calms him almost immediately. “Nobody forced me on that bike. Nobody forced me to jump, not even you.”
“I shouldn’t have let you.”
“JJ,” you sigh.
He closes his eyes as you shift in your spot, and somehow you end up with your forehead pressed against his. He reaches out one of his hands for the other of yours that rests in your lap and he clenches it, tight. You’re both still crying but they’re silent tears now.
“I forgive you, JJ.”
He shakes his head whilst you nod.
“Yes, I do, I forgive you. I always have. You know why?”
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.
“Because you were dealt the shitest hand I’ve ever known and look who you are. You’re sober, and you're healthy, and you have loving friends and a steady income and a job which you love, and a boathouse, and so much of your life left. And you didn’t kill anyone. You didn’t kill me, JJ. You didn’t even lose me.”
“I don’t—”
“We’re more than our mistakes.”
When JJ opens his eyes, you pull back enough to let him meet your gaze. As if you know what he’s about to ask, you smile. That smile…JJ feels like he’s coming home.
“You’re more than your mistakes, JJ.”
The moment his lips slot against yours, tentative and hesitant, like a bird exploring new ground for the first time, he’s home. There’s hardly a moment of reluctance, of confusion and mismatch from the time passed, before you’re kissing him back. The softness of your lips against his and the brush of your tongue. The sigh in your voice and the tilt of your head. It’s so seamless and sweet and safe. JJ feels safe here, with you. He feels like all the shit doesn’t matter. He feels like sober might actually be synonymous with happiness, with you. When he lies you down on the sofa, JJ doesn’t want to leave this room, this house, or Kildare. He wants to stay here, worshipping you, breathing you in until you consume all of his senses, because after five years, nothing has made him feel as alive as this. As you.
Everything is a wonderful illusion of being rushed and well-paced all at once. He revels in the way your skin gives gently beneath the scrape of his teeth. When he sucks at your throat, the skin is so delicate, and this close to you JJ can smell nothing but your perfume. He wants to fucking drown in it.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he pants. You’re gasping too. Fingers sliding through his hair, down his sides, along his face.
“I missed you,” you whine.
And that phrase gets repeated over and over like a mantra or a prayer. He hears himself whispering it against your skin with every button he undoes on your blouse. Basks in the sound of your voice, older and mature but still you, as you say it whilst pushing his dress shirt off his shoulder.
There’s a stalling pause when his fingers finish tracing down your stomach to your pants. You seem to notice it. Your hand comes to his face and thumbs at his cheek. They’re still sticky from dried tears.
“JJ,” you whisper, coaxing his attention back to your face. You’re glowing. You’re happy, you’re healthy, and you’re here. “It’s okay.” Nodding, you repeat. “It’s okay.”
Then, he watches your own fingers land on the button of your pants, slowly undoing it. Then the other and the third until they’re lose. He watches you wriggle out of them, pulling them down, struggling somewhat from the tight position on the sofa. Watches the scars emerge, faint but clear, and how they grow and spread like ivy on the side of a house. They merge with the cellulite and stretch marks. With a random bruise you must’ve gotten from hitting your leg on the table the other day. They’re a part of you – plain and simple. At the knee, there’s the connection for your prosthetic right leg. Once your trousers are off, JJ finds himself reaching out to touch it. This thing that he was partly responsible for, this marvel of medicine, the reason you can walk. He loves it and hates it desperately all at once. Glancing back up to your face, you’re watching him just as carefully as he was watching you. But you’re smiling.
“You’re okay,” JJ finds himself saying quietly. Because you are. You’re here, laying almost bare before him, just like you had years before.
“It’s rude to make a girl wait, JJ,” you tease.
With that, JJ’s smile is blossoming back like the returning of spring flowers following a brutal winter. He leans forward and catches himself above you with his arms, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen in the world. Your left leg rubs at his calf, still covered by his trousers, and you giggle against his mouth.
“Fuck, I missed this,” you say. “I missed you.”
“How much?”
“So much,” you say.
“Oh yeah? What’d you miss?” JJ persists, kissing down your neck.
“Your mouth,” you say through a moan. His hands slip behind your back and unclasp your bra. You arch your back enough for him to tug it off.
“My mouth?” he wonders, breathing it against your skin. You’re practically writhing. JJ laughs. “What about my mouth?”
“Don’t be a jackass, JJ,” you mutter.
“You want my mouth?”
“Yes,” you quietly beg.
“You do?” he checks, kissing over your breast, sucking at your nipple. “Where do you want it?”
“You fucking know where,” you sigh, impatience shining through.
He grins at the sudden hitch of your moan as he softly nips at the sensitive skin around your nipple. Then he’s kissing down your stomach until finally his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He slowly, tauntingly, pulls them down. You kick them off at the ankles, a clear act of frustration, and he bites back his laugh.
“What? Here?” JJ plants a kiss to your hipbone. “You want my mouth here? Or…”
Another kiss, to your pelvic bone.
“Here?”
“Fuck you, Maybank.”
“You wanna?”
“I swear to fucking God,” you huff, laughing through the annoyance.
With that, JJ settles himself between your legs and praises you like you deserve to be. The noises you make are downright evil, considering he can do nothing about it and has to hold it together. You taste so familiar on his tongue.
“Fucking missed you,” he groans against you.
When he sucks on your clit, your hands latch into his hair. Your back is arching and you’re gasping and panting and desperate, and JJ feels like a young God. Pulling back, he slips a finger into your hole and it welcomes him so easily. He cusses at how wet you are.
“Come on baby. Come on, I know you’re close.”
The tells of your body haven’t changed since the last time you two were in this position. The way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan when you fall over the edge is so surreal to see after five years apart. He feels you spasms around him and basks in the scratch of your nails against his scalp as you try to ground yourself. He hardly has time to suck his fingers clean before your pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him stupid.
“Fucking missed you,” you repeat against his mouth, making him laugh. “Nobody fucks me as good as you.”
“Jesus Christ, you can’t say shit like that,” JJ chuckles. “Won’t last.”
“Don’t care,” you say. “Only thing bigger than your ego is your dick.”
JJ can’t help but laugh at that. He loves your giggles in response. And then your hands are shoving at his trousers and the humour is gone, replaced with nothing but raw lust and desperation. There’s nothing performative about it, when the two of you hurry to strip his clothes away as soon as possible. He takes note to get his socks off. You’d always had a weird thing about it, sex in socks, and nothing was going to taint this night. Not after so long.
Being inside you…JJ missed it more than all the alcohol and weed in the world. Nothing compared to the feeling of you clenching around him. The vice of your leg hitched up and over his back as he grips into your thigh, mean and firm, perfecting the angle. The senseless, endless whines falling from your agape mouth, eyes closed tight, lost in the feeling of it. JJ wants nothing to be less than perfect for you, for this. Every stroke, every kiss, every clench of his fingers…it all has to be perfect. He knows when you’re close and he’s more than fucking relieved. It’s taking everything in him not to come. He needs you to fall over the edge first.
“Do the thing,” you whine. “Do the thing, John.”
With that, JJ remembers five years back, to late nights and later mornings spent rolling in bed with you. He bites into his lip, holding back his shit-eating grin as the memories flood back, and he leans forward to your ear. Gently taking the lobe within his teeth, he croons into the shell of your ear.
“That’s my good fucking girl.”
And finally, you fall apart, taking JJ with you like you always would.
When the high finally passes and the endorphins settle down, the two of you are laying on the sofa, only covered by a throw blanket JJ had dragged down from the back of the sofa. You’ve somehow shuffled so you’re laying mostly atop of him. His arms are locked around your damp stomach like a vice, nose nestled into your hair, just behind your ear, breathing you in with every inhale.
“Will you stay in Kildare, just for a short while? For me?”
JJ wants to laugh but he knows how wrong that would be in this moment. The humour doesn’t come from the question, but from the notion that he’d leave after finally having you back in his life, safe and happy, after five long years.
“Anything,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your hair. Anything for you.
-
“You look like shit by the way,” JJ says.
His hands are warm in his cargo pant pockets. Head tilted down and gaze steady, he sighs.
“Guess you didn’t have chance to clean up though, right?”
Shockingly, the gravestone says nothing back. Well, says nothing asides form Luke Maybank in barely legible font.
It still feels surreal, that his dad is gone. That they’d never remedy anything, or even attempt to fix their relationship. That JJ wouldn’t be able to face him and show him what he’d become. How he’d risen past it all and grown from the pain and the agony. That he’d taken the shitty hand that he was dealt and turned it into nothing but flushes and full houses. That he hadn’t grown into a petty criminal or a tax-evading lowlife, but a strong, good-willed, well-intentioned man. The thought, bittersweet at heart, makes him smile.
“I’m happy dad. I know you probably hate that, being dead and all, but I am.”
As if on cue, there’s the high pitch giggles from afar that catch JJ’s attention. He glances over to spot you and your wonderful mini-you, sitting on your shoulders, waving at him. He waves back, small and short, smiling.
“I’m glad you never met her,” JJ tells his dad, never tearing his eyes away from the pair of you. You ease her off your shoulders and take her hand, pointing to a small bed of daffodils. “I was so scared I’d be bad at this. I was so scared that I’d be like you.”
She’s so fragile as she picks a flower free from the bunch, holding it by the stem, up to you. You nod and presumably smile in approval.
“But I’ll never be like you. She’ll never know what it feels like to live in fear,” JJ states, firmly. He looks back down to the grave. “I’m not your mistakes, and I’m not mine.”
He lowers to a squat and wipes some of the dirt off the stone, revealing the dates. “Happy birthday, dad. You suck, and I hope you’re finally at peace.”
“Daddy, daddy…”
There’s an insistent tug at his jacket sleeve. JJ smiles and looks down at the best mistake he ever made. Mistake is a strong word. ‘Oops, I think is better’, you’d said when you first showed him the pregnancy test.
“What’s up, bub?”
“I found this flower. Can I give it to papa?”
JJ takes the daffodil and glances to the grave. A brief moment of anger passes over him like the breeze of winter. He doesn’t deserve this. He isn’t your papa. I’m glad he’s dead. But he closes his eyes and breathes. Your hand squeezing gently at his shoulder tells him you’re there. It helps ground him.
“Yeah, bub. I think that’d be nice,” he smiles, handing it back.
She giggles as she puts it on the grass just before the stone. Her laughter is brighter and louder still when JJ scoops her up as he stands, looping her around him until she’s a backpack.
“You wanna get ice cream?”
“Hell yeah,” you whoop.
“Hell yeah!” mini-you copies. JJ laughs.
“Alrighty, lets go.”
As the three of you make the small walk back to the car, you intertwine your fingers with JJ’s, holding his hand tight and secure. JJ takes one last glance back at the gravestone. It all began here, in a way, the re-introduction to a life he thought he’d lost. Perhaps the nicest thing JJ’s dad ever did, the kindest act he ever performed, was dying. Perhaps that was his way of paying him back for all the crap he gave.
“Hey.”
JJ glances down at you.
“You okay?”
He smiles. Then, he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Everything is going to be okay.
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gloriousmessofagirl · 2 years
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Carefree // JJ Maybank Pt I
Summary: A new girl moves to the OBX and before he even knows her, JJ is falling her for...hard; however, she’s a Kook and all Kooks are the same...aren’t they?
Warnings: swearing, underage drinking
Word Count: 3,333 (angel numbers, baby)
The group of Pogues were driving through Figure 8 on their way back to The Chateau for their usual summer escapade: smoking beers, drinking weed, hammocking, fishing on the HMS Pogue, whatever their rowdy little hearts desired. Although their summer break had just started a few days ago, they were determined to make this one the most memorable one yet.
JJ, Kie, and Pope’s attention went to the nearly full U-Haul van parked on the side of the road, watching as the movers carried the mahogany dining table and its accompanying upholstered chairs, meanwhile John B stole a quick glance before refocusing his attention back to the road.
Kie sat back in her seat, all interest in the new family now gone once she laid her brown eyes on the navy-blue jeep – one of the many vehicles (four to be exact) sitting in the driveway of the large house, ��And people wonder why our planet’s dying.”
JJ shrugged as he caught Pope’s stare. Ignoring her expected tangent about carbon emissions and microplastics, they watched as a man with salt and pepper hair around his mid-40’s handed his son, named Ryan, a large box labeled “kitchen”. JJ assumed he couldn’t have been more than three years older than them.
At the feeling of being watched, Ryan turned to the dingy brown van. Despite feeling like a circus animal on parade, he bro-nodded at the two teens, who name no effort to hide the fact that they were staring. His friendly gesture was met with hostility as JJ rolled his eyes, turning his back on the hazel eyed boy, “He’ll fit in great with Topper and Rafe.”
The Volkswagen van continued on down the road just as Clarissa excitedly waked down the driveway to retrieve another one of her boxes.
The first time JJ Maybank and Clarissa Davenport saw each other was a couple of weeks later once the moving process had settled giving her a chance to finally explore her new home.
Behind the blond skateboarder, the sound of someone hooting and hollering intensified. He politely moved out of the middle of the road just as the familiar jeep, which was now missing its top, came to a slow halt at the stop sign next to him.
And there she was…
In a blue and white striped sundress, hanging out of the top of the car, hands in the air, long blonde hair blowing every which way. A few strands stuck to her face, but it didn’t seem to bother her. JJ subconsciously licked his lips at the sight of her. Her head was tilted slightly back, eyes closed as she took in everything: the feeling of the sun peaking through the leaves as it touched her sun-kissed skin, the salty smell of the ocean combined with the summer air, the sound of the birds chirping sweetly as they flew from branch to branch. She looked serene, just enjoying the moment. And that’s exactly how she lived – carefree and living for every moment she was blessed with.
As she moved her disheveled hair out of her face, her eyes opened revealing the most gorgeous misty grey-blue shade, reminding JJ of the clouds he’d seen over the ocean right before a storm. She gave him a soft smile as they drove off, “Ow, ow!”
Her voice eventually faded, and the rambunctious teen continued on his merry way unable to get her out of his mind. If you had asked him, JJ would’ve sworn up and down that this all happened in slow-mo. It was common knowledge that he’d hooked up with a few girls here and there but none of them were remotely close to her. But at the end of the day, she was a Kook, full of daddy’s money, always getting what she wants.
Their paths crossed a few days later. He was with John B and Pope on their way to pick up Kiara while she was riding bikes with her new friend Savanna. Her baby blue crop top highlighted her eyes while her cut off jean shorts made her tanned legs look longer, completing her casual look with a plain white bucket hat and Birks.
JJ couldn’t hear the conversation that was going on between the two girls, but he could see her head go backwards. Her loud boisterous laugh was so infectious, it caused the corners of his mouth to curve upwards, forming the tiniest smile. JJ wondered if they could hear her on the other side of Kildare.
She released the handlebars, putting her arms straight out like a bird about to take flight, “C’mon, Nan, keep up!”
In that moment, John B and Pope realized just how smitten their friend was. Normally, JJ was a natural when it came to girls, always knowing exactly what to say to and what to do make them blush and become all giggly, which is why they couldn’t understand what made Clarissa so different. The tall brunette waited 30 more seconds, thinking his best friend would snap himself out of his trance.
He couldn’t contain his laughter any longer, “You got it bad, bro.”
JJ scoffed, trying to play it cool, “Pfft. Nah, man.”
Pope also busted out laughing, “You look like a fucking iPad kid.”
“Oh, fuck you dude.”
Pope tried to contain his laughter so he could ask the question, “Why don’t you just talk to her instead of staring at her like a fucking creep?”
“Pope giving JJ relationship advice…mark that one off your bingo cards,” John B teased.
JJ flipped both of them off before his mind quickly shifted to the reality of his situation, “Doesn’t matter cause she’s a Kook.”
John B’s eyebrows arched as he looked to the occupied passenger seat, “Sarah was a Kook.”
“Sarah’s different.”
JB held up his hands, playfully admitting defeat. Pope copying his actions, “Alright, alright.”
He stole one last glance just in time to see her quickly place her hand on top of her head, preventing her hat from flying away. Clarissa stopped pedaling, her mint-colored bike coming to an eventual stop, allowing the brown-haired girl to catch up. She nodded her head in the direction that the van headed, “Hey, who was that?”
“John B,” Savanna questioned, trying to determine which guy her friend was asking about, “Brown hair?”
“No, blond.”
Savanna was hesitant to answer, “That would be JJ.”
“I was just wondering cause I’ve seen him around a couple of times but like I’ve never actually talked to him or anything.”
“Good,” her friends dislike was evident, “He’s the lowest of the low. Just be careful around him.”
Clarissa couldn’t tell if JJ – it felt weird to finally know his name – was actually a bad guy or if it was just the whole “Kooks versus Pogues” mentality she was still grasping to understand.
She categorized as a Kook, but the truth was she’d spent most of her life as lower-middle class. When she was six years old, her dad lost his job nearly leaving them homeless. Even through that, they always had food on the table and somehow her parents still managed to make Christmas magical with presents from a secondhand store.
Regardless of what people say, everyone is prejudice. Clarissa felt this firsthand when her family transitioned to upper-middle class. Rich bitch. Spoiled brat. Daddy’s money. Trust fund baby. She knew those were just a few of the insults people hurled at her behind her back and every so often when they were brave enough to face, never taking the time to get to know her. And it bothered her when others did this. She hoped her friend was sincerely looking out for her and not the other way around.
The next night he was headed to The Chateau after yet another fight with his dad. It was a quarter past 11 when she stumbled out of the marina’s tiny gas station carrying a bag of candy. It was a stark contrast to the anger he felt at the hands of someone who was supposed to take care of him and love him unconditionally but seeing her and hearing her angelic laugh relieved that anger just a tiny bit.
Ryan trailed behind her carrying a bag of miscellaneous snacks and drinks. The blonde girl halted, turning on her heels to face him, holding out her hand, “My drink, kind sir.”
“I thought you got it?”
“Ha-ha. You’re so funny,” her sarcastic response was short lived. She searched his face, waiting for him to falter and give in but when he didn’t her face changed to look like a lost puppy dog, “You really forgot?”
“The fact that you thought I’d forget, it hurts…right here,” he placed his hand over his heart, “You’d think after 16 years of living with me you’d have a little more faith in your dear old brother.”
She rolled her eyes at his theatrics, “Yeah, yeah. I get it; you’re the best big brother ever and how could I ever doubt you. Blah blah blah. Can I have my drink now?”
Continuing the bit, he rolled his eyes before placing the vibrant pink can in her open palm.
“Oh helllll yea,” she quickly popped open the can with her manicured lavender fingernails, “Ah, delicious.”
It was too dark for her to notice JJ but he chuckled as she literally climbed into her brother’s car. Despite the late hour and the high likelihood of people sleeping, she plugged her phone into the aux cord putting Jack Harlow on full blast. JJ’s attention went back to kicking the small rock once the jeep pulled out of the tiny parking lot.
For the next few days, JJ was constantly conversing with himself, prepping himself for when he finally got the chance to talk to her, not wanting to make a complete fool out of himself. 
He ran his ringed fingers through his messy hair, putting his backwards hat on his head once again, growing more and more frustrated with himself, “Fucking cabrón.”
His other hand was holding on tight to the multiple bags of groceries he was carrying. Why was it so hard to talk to her? He’d talked to plenty of girls before and he’d had no issues and in that moment he decided against using a pickup line. 
His gaze scanned the balcony, needing to do a double take to confirm what he thought he saw. A lot chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head in disbelief, “I fucking knew it.”
Leaning over the wooden railing of the country club was Clarissa. Behind her Ryan was talking to none other than Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and a few other of their goonies. She adjusted her sunglasses that had fallen down the bridge of her nose. Her lips curved upwards when she spotted him on the outskirts of the property. She gave him a small wave, shocked when he gave her the cold shoulder but even more so at how much the gesture hurt her considering they had yet to speak to one another. 
Noah, one of Topper’s friends, joined her alongside the balcony, handing her a vodka cranberry, “You can’t expect anything less from them.”
She thanked him for the kind gesture, attempting to hide her disappointment with a small smile, unsure if she was successful. 
The first time the two teens spoke was that weekend at the Boneyard. The sun was setting, leaving the sky a multitude of fading blues and pinks and oranges. The waves were transitioning with the tide as the moon made its appearance up above. Moments where the Kooks and Pogues inhabited the same space without at least one fight were rare but so far so good as both parties were jam packed together. 
“But why not? He’s hot as fuck...and rich,” Savanna muttered the last part. The brunette grew more and more intoxicated with each sip, “I just don’t get why you won’t go on one date. Just one. Ya know? Have fun and just - just live...a little.
Savanna followed her best friend’s gaze all the way to the blond kleptomaniac sitting on a piece of driftwood, “Earth to Clarissa. Hellllooooooooo. Well if you do end up talking to him, count your money afterwards.” 
Clarissa bit her tongue, “Why do you always have to do that?”
“Do what, tell you the truth? I don’t know, Clarissa, maybe because you’re my friend and I actually care about you.”
The spat between the two wasn’t loud but it definitely garnered the attention of the people closest to them. Beer sloshed out of Savanna’s cup as she let out a loud laugh, “Oh, and you do?”
Clarissa closed her eyes, and breathed threw her nose thinking carefully about what she wanted to say next, “I’m just saying, he could be the nicest person but you won’t take a second to get to know him because you all are so stuck up in this fucking Kook fantasy world.” 
Another loud laugh left her friend’s lips, “Yeah, okay. Go ask Topper how nice JJ Maybank is.” The alcoholic beverage met her lips once more. 
Brick by brick, word by word a wall of tension was built between the two girls just like it did every time they had this conversation. Savanna would be the one to eventually break the silence, “I’m just trying to look out for you. I really think you should give Noah a chance. He’s smart and sweet and respectful. He’s not really into hook ups. He’s tall and athletic. He likes you too. Oh and speaking of, here he comes - Hey, Noah!” 
His hazel eyes lingered on the petite blonde, greeting them once he made his way over to them. Savanna’s words lingered in Clarissa’s mind - he was attractive, there was no denying that. With his picture perfect smile because of his straight white teeth. And his olive skin that had turned into the most beautiful tan. His hair was dark brown bordering black, reminding her of coffee beans. His eyes were brown like honey with specks of green that shined in direct sunlight. He was beautiful but there was an attraction towards the other boy, that had a clear view of the trio, despite being so far away. 
His jaw was tight as he watched the scene unfold. Was she smiling to be polite? He doubted it. He wasn’t drunk enough for this. He chugged the remnants of his cup, holding it up to his friends, “Anyone need another?”
John B and Sarah both raised their empty plastic cups. 
Clarissa’s gaze was constantly going back and forth between Noah and the spot JJ occupied. Peaking over his shoulder, she found the spot now abandoned. Peering through the crowd, she found him making his way towards the alcohol. Now was her chance, “Excuse me.” 
Pope was the first to notice her as she weaseled her way through everyone. He swatted his hands, trying to get the attention of the other Pogues. All eyes were on the unfolding situation.
“Hey,” she said, standing behind him. 
JJ peaked over his shoulder, expecting a touron, “Oh, hey.”
She fiddled with her fingers, waiting a few seconds to see if he said anything else. His attention remained on refilling the cups, “I’m Clarissa.”
“JJ.”
She tilted her head, silently begging him to engage in conversation, “You mind pouring me one?”
He licked his lips, finally facing her. He wasn’t as tall as Noah but he still towered over her small frame. Holding the cups up, he spoke once more “I gotta get back to my friends.” 
“Oh, yeah, of course,” word vomit oozed from her lips due to being embarrassed. 
JJ nodded his head behind her, “I gotta...”
“Shit, yeah, uh - sorry.”
He smirked, finding this entertaining before remembering who she was. She moved over, allowing him to pass by and get a whiff of his cologne. She felt deflated, knowing the probability of her friends watching were high. For a moment, she stood there contemplating what to do next, processing what just happened. She always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt but maybe, just maybe Nan was right. 
A cough broke her out of these thoughts. Behind her, a long line of people were waiting for the beer, which she happened to be blocking, “Fuck...I’m so sorry.”
She moved out of the way, finally meeting her friends’ gaze. Noah’s eyes were filled with concern, debating if he should be the hero and sweep her off her feet. She knew exactly what Nan would say. What’d you expect? I told you so. Got all of your money? 
Meanwhile the Pogues were speechless. John B shook his head in shock, “Dude?!?”
In all actuality, he meant what the fuck was that. 
The blond rolled his eyes, handing his best friend his cup or at least he’d hoped it was his. 
“Yeah, that was kinda harsh,” Kie said, taking a sip of her drink. 
Slightly more intoxicated than the rest of them, Sarah shrugged, “I mean she does hang out with my brother and ex-boyfriend.” 
In true JJ fashion, he dramatically threw his hands in Sarah’s direction, somewhat shocked that she took his side, “It’s the way the world works. Rich girl meets rich boy. They fall in love, get married, have rich snobby babies and thus, the cycle continues.”
He brought his cup to his lips, wishing it was stronger, “I told you when they first moved her; A new Kook princess has been crowned.”
They didn’t say anything to one another for the next two weeks. She no longer smiled at him because that’s what she thought he wanted, while he thought it further proved his point on her being a stuck-up bitch. John B noticed both of them stealing glances when they did pass each other. 
 She walked out of the gas station with her usual Arizona and Airheads, putting her sunglasses back on. There he was, sitting at the edge of the marina. She had two options – number 1: she could continue to ignore him and walk away, continuing to harbor a grudge or number 2: she could talk to him.
She swung her leg over her bike, but stood frozen in place. “Fuck this,” she whispered to nobody in particular. She was fed up of the attitude and judgement. She set her bike against the rotting wood rail before sauntering down the dock towards him.
She sat down a few feet from him, staring straight at the ocean. He was speechless at her audacity. Before he could say anything she spoke first, “It’s a public dock, right?”
He bit his lip before nodding, staring back at the waves, “Yeah, I guess it is.”
They sat there for a minute of tense silence before she spoke once more, “So like are you ever gonna talk to me?”
For the second time, she didn’t let him get a single word out, “Like, I get that I’m new here and there’s this whole “Pogues vs Kooks” which I don’t really fuckin get but I think it’s complete bullshit.”
You don’t know shit about me but yet for the past couple of weeks you’ve acted like a complete dick wad. All because you what…think I’m some rich bitch? What is it that you all say – “Kook Princess?” I’ll have you know that when I was 6 my dad lost his job and we were nearly homeless. And he’s worked his fucking ass off for us .”
His eyes widened, trying not to laugh, “Dick wad? Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
She tried to hold back her smile, “Am I wrong?”
She wasn’t. And he knew that, “No, you’re right. I was definitely a dick and I’m uh, sorry. ”
For the next couple of hours, the two teenagers sat on the rotten wood as their feet dangling over the water talking and laughing about anything and everything, finally taking the time to get to know one another. 
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Like a Hurricane // JJ Maybank x OC - Part 2
Summary: The Pogues stumble upon something out in the marsh. Of course, in their honor of duty, they try to report it - but it seems once again, they don't wanna be heard.
Masterlist - Part 1
Warnings: language, use of alcohol / drugs
Pairing: JJ Maybank x OC
A/N: Here you go with the next part :) If someone wanna be tagged, let me know :)
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The moment Sky's eyes flickered open the next morning, she sensed the day was going to be a colossal mess. Her gaze shifted to the ceiling, spotting leaks, and outside, a tree lay uprooted, its roots exposed like open veins. A quick check of her phone confirmed her suspicions: no service, no power. Just great.
Pulling on short sweatpants and a cropped shirt, she stepped out of her room, immediately spotting JJ sprawled on the couch, his words from the night before echoing in her mind, "Maybe I'm tired of pretending that I haven't thought about it. About you."
Taking a deep breath, she was interrupted by John B emerging from his room, fiddling with the light switch. "Already tried... There's no power," she informed him, earning a raised eyebrow in response.
"Shit," he muttered, striding past a drowsy JJ. "Yo, JJ, you been outside?"
JJ mumbled face-down into the cushion. "I have polio, bro. I can't walk."
Sky couldn’t help but chuckle. "Considering you act like you're five most of the time, that's fair enough," she quipped, following John B outside.
The scene that greeted them was dismal. Trees were uprooted everywhere.
John B's voice broke through her thoughts. "Oh man... That's not good." He headed towards the HMS Pogue, clearing branches, while Sky took in the devastation.
"Agatha sure did a number, huh?" JJ's voice suddenly called out. Sky turned, aware of his gaze lingering on her.
She looked away, a hint of irritation in her voice. "Yeah, she really outdid herself..."
Leaning against the doorframe, mug in hand, JJ watched her. "What you thinkin'?" he asked, clearly aiming the question at John B.
"I'm thinkin' that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All those drum are gonna chase the crab." Sky mused, joining John B in tidying the HMS Pogue.
"That's true", Sky agreed.
"What about the DCS? Wasn't that today?" JJ then asked, leaning against a tree, his gaze again on Sky.
"I don't think they'll gettin' on a ferry today..." Sky sighed.
Then John B, leaning on the boat, had a spark in his eyes. "Think about it. It's like God's telling us to fish."
"Yeah," JJ agreed as John B headed back inside. As Sky moved to follow, JJ called out, "Hey, uh, Barb?"
Sky paused, turning back. "Yeah?"
"About last night..." JJ began, scratching his head awkwardly.
Sky cut him off quickly. "Don’t worry about it, JJ. We’re good."
With those words, she walked back inside, leaving JJ standing there, his gaze following her. He wondered if she really believed he'd only spoken those words because he was drunk. Because, hell no. He'd said them because the alcohol had given him the balls to speak his truth finally.
As Sky re-emerged outside, JJ couldn't help but notice her. She always had this effortless charm about her. Tying her hair into a high ponytail, she caught JJ's lingering gaze. "What?" she asked, scrunchie held between her teeth.
"Nothing," JJ replied hastily, just as John B stepped out to join them.
Together, they pushed the boat into the water, jumping aboard. As they navigated through the marsh and deeper into the cut, the ravages of Agatha were unmistakable. Trash littered the water, trees lay uprooted, and boats were displaced haphazardly.
JJ and John B engaged in a conversation about the boats, hoping none of the uninsured ones had sunk, like Guffy's. Meanwhile, Sky lay sprawled on the front deck, basking in the sun's warmth.
"Really hope Guffy's boat made it. No insurance, man," JJ mused, scanning the damaged vessels.
John B nodded in agreement. As they approached a bar, both boys waved enthusiastically. "Hi, Miss Amy!" John B called out, prompting Sky to open her eyes. "You guys all right?"
Amy shouted back with a resilient smile. "Still here," she replied, continuing her clean up.
Sky raised an eyebrow, well aware of the boys' interest in Amy. JJ's next comment seemed to confirm her suspicions. "She totally looked at me."
"I saw it," John B added.
Sky couldn't help but roll her eyes at their banter.
As they continued their journey, Sky, removing her sunglasses, leaned forward to see the extent of the destruction better. "Jeez..." she mumbled under her breath.
"Dude, look at this place," John B exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and concern.
"Agatha, what have you done?" JJ declared, his tone dripping with theatrical exaggeration.
John B chuckled. "She's one hell of a crazy lady."
"Hardcore, dude."
Sky glanced around, a sense of responsibility settling over her. "We'll be cleaning up all summer, you realize that?" she remarked, turning to face John B and JJ.
"That's my worst nightmare," John B agreed, and Sky nodded in solidarity.
As they approached the Heywards, Sky spotted Pope busy cleaning. "Well, look who we have here," John B said in a teasing tone, mimicking a radio call. "We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory."
Sky chuckled at her brother's antics. But she noticed Mr. Heyward's stern expression behind Pope.
"I can't join. My dad's got me on lockdown," Pope explained, gesturing towards his father.
Sky greeted him warmly. "Hey, Mr. Heyward."
"Hello, dear," he responded.
"Come on, man," JJ interjected, pretending to talk into a radio. "Your dad's a pussy. Over."
Mr. Heyward’s annoyance was palpable. "Oh, I heard that you little bastard," he shot back, causing Sky to chuckle again.
"We need your son's help," Sky attempted to reason with Mr. Heyward.
"Yeah, and island rules," JJ added. "Day after a hurricane's a free day."
"And who made that rule?" Mr. Heyward inquired skeptically.
JJ thought for a moment. "Uh... Pentagon, I think. We have security clearance. Want to see my card?"
"Y'all think I'm stupid?" Mr. Heyward asked, hands on his hips, unamused.
Pope turned to his dad. "I'll do it tomorrow, I promise. Tomorrow."
"No, no. Hell no. You're doing it right now," his father insisted.
"Get in the boat," John B whisper-shouted to Pope.
"Make a run for it," JJ urged.
In a swift move, Pope leaped onto the boat, continuing to argue with his dad, who declared his distaste for Pope's friends. Sky waved at Mr. Heyward, offering him an apologetic smile as they pulled away.
Upon their arrival at Kiara's place, Sky stood up, grabbing her bag.
"Where do you think you're going?" JJ inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Sky glanced at him, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Work, obviously. Someone's got to earn the cash for all these repairs."
JJ watched her, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.
As they neared Kiara's bar, she was already there, her smile as welcoming as the morning sun.
"Oh, top o' the morning to ya," John B greeted her cheerfully.
"Good morning, boys. Sky," Kiara returned the greeting. "Oh, Sky, my parents said they don’t need you today," she added, a hint of apology in her tone.
Surprised but unbothered, Sky shrugged and took a seat. "Morning... Okay, well, be my guest."
John B's attention was drawn to the portable freezer Kiara had brought. "What you got there? Juice boxes?"
Kiara responded with a playful smile. "Just some yogurts and carrot sticks."
"How about my kind of juice box?" JJ chimed in, half-joking.
With a knowing grin, Kiara produced a few beers and handed them out to her friends.
They raised their cans in a toast, the air filled with the promise of a good time. Sky looked up, a sense of contentment washing over her. Despite the challenges, they were together, and that was all that mattered.
As the boat glided through the marsh, JJ leaned back, his arm casually draped over the side. He caught Sky's eye and flashed his trademark grin.
"Hey, Barb, ever think about trading in your surfboard for a fishing rod? I could teach you a thing or two," he teased his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more.
Sky laughed, rolling her eyes. "And give up the thrill of the waves for sitting around waiting for a fish to bite? Not likely, Bando."
"But you see, fishing's all about patience, something I think you could learn from me," JJ replied, his gaze holding hers for a moment longer than necessary.
"Patience, huh?" Sky smirked. "I never took you for the patient type, especially when it comes to... certain activities."
The air between them crackled with unspoken words, a playful yet meaningful exchange. JJ's smile widened, a twinkle in his eye.
"Guess there's a lot you don't know about me, Barb. I'm full of surprises."
Kiara, observing from her seat, couldn't miss the subtext. JJ's usual flirtatious demeanor seemed to carry an added layer of sincerity when directed at Sky. And Sky, though seemingly dismissive, responded with a certain warmth, a shared understanding that spoke of a deeper connection.
The banter continued, each exchange a dance of words and glances, a testament to their long-standing camaraderie, yet hinting at possibilities unexplored.
Pope and John B had changed, with Pope now at the helm. The atmosphere was relaxed until JJ stood up at the front, signaling the start of his usual antics.
"Hey, Pope. Can you go a little faster?" JJ called out with a grin.
"Here we go. I'm movin'." Pope, slightly annoyed but playing along, accelerated. The wind whipped through Sky's hair, a sense of exhilaration in the air.
"Doesn't work," John B commented dryly, watching JJ lift his beer.
"I've got this. It's gonna work!" Undeterred, JJ declared confidently, as he attempted to pour the beer from a distance, aiming for his mouth.
The beer splattered everywhere, dousing Sky. "JJ, stop! I'm gonna smell like a brewery," she complained, wiping her face.
"You're getting beer in my hair!", Kiara protested, trying to shield herself.
"All right, alright! You're done!" John B intervened, stepping forward.
"Stop it, JJ!" Sky added. But suddenly, the boat jerked to a halt, causing chaos onboard. JJ was catapulted into the water with an involuntary somersault while the others were thrown off balance. Sky hit the deck hard.
"Jesus, Pope!" Sky hissed, sitting up and rubbing her sore spot. She peered over the railing. "JJ, you alright?"
In the water, JJ groaned. "I think my heels touched the back of my head."
John B helped Kiara, who had been flung against the side. "Kie, you good?"
"I'm all right."
"Pope, what did you do?" John B then wants to know.
"Sandbar. The channel changed", Pope explained, clearly apologetic.
"No shit," Sky muttered, annoyed.
"Ugh, this is probably gonna mess this whole place up," John B observed, scanning the surroundings.
JJ, swimming back to the boat, announced triumphantly, "Hey, I saved the beer, though."
"Congrats, JJ," John B responded, his tone lacking enthusiasm.
Then Pope's voice cut through the chatter. "Guys... I think there's a boat down there." 
"Shut up," John B said, his annoyance evident.
"What?" JJ perked up, intrigued.
"No, no, guys. I'm serious. There's a boat down there", Pope said.
Sky joined Pope to get a better look. "Shit, he's right, guys. I can see it", Sky said.
"Okay, let's go," Kiara suggested, beginning to strip off her clothes.
Sky followed suit, peeling off her top and shorts under JJ's gaze, which Kiara caught and raised an eyebrow at. JJ quickly averted his eyes. Then, one by one, they dove into the water, swimming down towards the mysterious submerged boat.
As they gathered around the spot where the boat lay submerged, JJ's excitement was palpable. "You guys saw that?"
Sky nodded in agreement. "Yeah, hard to miss."
Kiara chimed in, equally intrigued. "Yeah, I did."
"What the..." John B trailed off, his gaze fixed on the water.
"That's a Grady-White," JJ remarked, almost reverently. "A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy."
They swam back to the boat, each lost in thought. Sky was the first to climb aboard, her mind racing with possibilities.
"Okay! That's a primo rig," JJ declared, climbing up after Sky.
"Yeah," John B agreed, a glint of adventure in his eyes. "That's the boat I saw when I surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something."
"You surfed the surge?" Kiara asked, disbelief coloring her tone.
JJ glanced at Sky, seeking her reaction, then beamed proudly. "That's my boy. Pogue style." They high-fived, a moment of shared bravado.
"What the heck?" Kiara's astonishment mirrored Sky's own.
Pope, the rational one, asked, "Do we know whose boat that is?"
"No, but we're about to find out," John B said confidently, catching Sky's eye.
"Dude, it's too deep," JJ protested, as John B prepared the anchor.
"Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ," John B teased, earning a chuckle from Sky, as he took out the anchor.
"I'm not resuscitating you," JJ shot back. "Just so we're clear."
"That's fine," John B replied, diving in.
"Diver down, fool," Pope echoed John B's words.
"Yeah, he is," JJ said, giving John B a shove into the water, which earned him a slight clap on the back of his head by Sky.
Sky and the others watched anxiously, waiting for John B to resurface. Finally, he broke the surface, coughing.
"Oh, my God. That took forever!" Kiara exclaimed, relief evident in her voice.
"Ah, jeez," JJ muttered, looking at Sky, who shook her head in amusement.
"Any dead bodies?" Pope's question was met with silence.
"Looting potential?" JJ half-joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"No. No. I found this motel key," John B revealed, holding up the key.
"A key," Pope repeated, puzzled.
"Yes, a key, Pope," John B confirmed, dripping water.
"Great! We salvaged a motel key," JJ said, his sarcasm drawing a smirk from Sky.
"Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard. Maybe we'll get a finder's fee," Kiara suggested.
They drove off, the boat slicing through the water. Sky sat quietly, pondering the implications of their discovery.
"Yeah, and not work all summer," JJ mused. "Thanks, Agatha, ya batch."
Sky couldn't help but laugh at JJ's comment, the tension of the moment dissolving into the warm camaraderie that defined the Pogues.
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On their way back to the Cut, the Pogues' boat cut through the water, the mood a mix of excitement and anticipation. JJ, seizing the moment, leaned closer to Sky.
"Hey, Barb, after all this hurricane madness, you think you'd wanna catch a wave with me? Just us?" he asked, his tone half-joking, half-hopeful.
Sky rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, Bandolero, because what I really need after a hurricane is more chaos," she teased, a hint of a smile on her lips.
JJ grinned, not deterred by her playful jab. "Chaos is my middle name, babe."
As they reached the shore, the scene was chaotic, with police and emergency tents set up everywhere. The Pogues disembarked, heading straight for an emergency tent where people were reporting lost items and damages.
"Excuse me, we found something out in the marsh," John B began, trying to get the attention of an officer.
The officer, overwhelmed and busy, barely glanced at them. "If it's not a life-or-death situation, please wait your turn."
"But we found a boat, a Grady-White. It might be important," Kiara added, trying to convey the urgency.
The officer, clearly frazzled, responded dismissively. "Right now, we're dealing with emergencies. Please wait."
John B, frustrated, turned to the group. "Let's get out of here. They're not listening."
As they left the tent, Sky muttered under her breath, "Great, found a freaking boat, and no one gives a shit."
JJ, trying to lighten the mood, nudged her. "Hey, at least we had our own little adventure, right, Barb?"
Sky couldn't help but smirk at JJ's relentless optimism. "Sure, JJ. Our own little disaster within a disaster."
As they walked away, the group couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and determination. They had stumbled upon something big, and they were going to get to the bottom of it, emergency tent or not.
Pope, shaking his head at their recent encounter, asked, "Well, that went well. So, what's the plan?"
John B, holding up the motel key with a sense of purpose, declared, "I know how we're gonna find the guy who owns that boat."
Pope looked skeptical. "No, no, we don’t even know whose room that is. It could be anyone."
JJ, always the one to dive headfirst into adventure, grabbed the keys from John B and tossed them to Sky. "I’m in," he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Kiara, ever the strategist, chimed in, "Come on. I'll be lookout."
As they began to walk past Pope, Sky, catching the key with ease, added, "Finder’s fee. Just sayin’." Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious.
John B, sensing Pope's hesitation, tried to reassure him. "And, hey, you'll only be an accomplice."
Pope let out a resigned sigh. "Man."
"Come on, Bubba," John B encouraged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
The group moved with a shared sense of determination, their steps echoing their resolve. They were the Pogues, after all, and a little mystery was just another day in their book.
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