hey, guys. i'm currently taking requests! the characters i write for are listed below. make sure to tell me the pronouns of the reader. i'll decide which ones to write and i'll probably edit a list of requirements later.
description: jj and rafe get into a fight over jj being poor. you end up having to clean up your boyfriend and assure him that you still love him. inspired by taylor swift's "paper rings." a lot of this is word vomit.
tw: violence, talk of socioeconomic status, fighting, money insecurity, and a plethora of injuries (shown above).
word count: 861.
five punches and a lot of yelling later, you were sitting on your bathroom counter with jj standing guiltily between your denim-clad legs, eyes running over your face and licking his bleeding split lip.
"stop licking," you demanded mindlessly, voice only a whisper. jj jumped, slightly shocked to hear your voice for the first time since you had fled upstairs with him in tow.
"sorry," he replied roughly.
you had your head tilted to the side, trying not to block the light as you ran a cotton swab over his busted cheek. he tried not to wince at the feeling of cold ethanol alcohol in the wound, but his eyes squinted at the corners. you dabbed it with a dry cloth, before pulling the split together with a butterfly bandage.
as you tried to clear some of the blood off his jaw, you sighed. "i don't really know what to do about the lip. i don't think that i can put neosporin on it, so it's gonna hurt."
"that's okay, it already does."
you gave him a sharp look.
"sorry," he winced.
you chewed the gum in your mouth, having lost the majority of its flavor, now just making your jaw sore in solidarity to your boyfriend. "i know you are," you swallow. "i just don't understand why. we talked about this jage."
he closed his eyes and you watched his adam's apple bob in his throat. he opened his mouth, but nothing came out and he looked ashamed. after a pause, he began to talk.
"i can't stand rafe. i don't know what it is about him, because he isn't the only person who doesn't like me. hell, he's not even the only person who doesn't like me because i'm poor. he just-" he let out a broken sigh. "he just gets under my skin every time, and i don't know why. he makes me so angry, i can feel it boiling under my skin and i just black out. i'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and you know he means it.
"i know."
"i don't even feel bad because he's such an asshole. he has everything. and i don't have shit and he talks and talks, but he doesn't even understand what he's saying because he can't because he has always been fucking rich and i wish i could have that life." his words are spilling out of him, sentences wrapping around each other and his eyes are going glassy. it hurts your heart to see him like that.
you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, even though you are still angry, because the hurt is sour between your teeth, and you need him to know that he isn't alone.
"but this time was bad. i'm happy your dad was there so fast because i think i could have really hurt him this time," he says it like a secret because it is, but between you two it's just the truth. "he said that i didn't deserve to be at a party like that. that i don't deserve you and your family because i'm just some asshole with no one, with nobody waiting on me or for me. i know you say he's horrible and i agree, but i just think sometimes that if it was a choice between me or him, everyone at that party would choose him, because he's just less trouble."
his words are muffled by your neck, but the meaning is clear. you raise his head and you are inches apart. his breath fans across your face. you rub his unbruised cheek with your fingers and meet his eyes, determined.
"i choose you," you state. he makes a wounded noise. you press a soft kiss to his cheek, trying to move oceans with one small kiss. trying to communicate how much he means to you.
"i'm sorry," he whimpers.
"i don't care about the money, jj. i love you. i choose you. even if i have to clean you up in my bathroom every weekend. even if we both have to be normal people with normal jobs, who work and struggle. you are worth more to me than rafe and this stupid kook shit could ever be."
"i know, i know. i love you and i'm sorry," he winces.
"well, i'm not so stop apologizing," you laugh.
"okay, sorry," he says, laughing loudly when you glare. he leans in to kiss you, split lip be damned. it's gentle and slow. his lips are warm and soft. he deepens the kiss, just looking to kiss. not pushing you to do anything, never asking for more than you give. he licks into your mouth and you sigh.
you kiss for a few minutes before you remember his lip and pull back. he chases your lips mindlessly and you snort. "your lip, baby." he groans and you have to stop yourself from continuing.
his hands rub your waist and you admire him. there is a bruise beginning to form on his jaw. you want to bite it. he swallows and whispers, "i like your earings."
"shut up," you snicker before going to kiss him again.
