♡⃣you can't sleep because of your parents fighting. you crash at jj's house, but accidentally disturb his sleep when you move too much.
pairing ! :⠀fem!reader x bsfdealer!jj.
warnings ! :⠀smut. handjob. fingering. swearing. blowjob. cum in mouth. male masturbation. unprotected penetration. abusive household.
the shouting downstairs, the sound of glass breaking, doors slamming. and you can’t breathe when it gets like that, so you do what you always do. crawl out the window and ride your bike straight to the only place you ever feel safe.
it’s late, way past midnight, and your hands shake a little when you knock on his door. jj answers faster than you expect, blond hair messy, a beer bottle still in his hand.
and the second his eyes land on you, you watch him soften. your wet lashes, hoodie zipped but not all the way, and pajama shorts too small for this kind of night.
“hey, hey” his voice drops low, barely above the music coming from inside. “what happened?”
you don’t answer. you just grab him, arms around his waist and face buried in his chest. he smells like weed and saltwater and jj, and suddenly the knot in your throat burns.
“sorry” you mumble against him, rubbing your eyes like a kid. “i just— i couldn’t stay there tonight.”
but then you realize he isn’t alone. there are two guys slouched on the couch, baggies and lighters scattered across the table, smoke curling around their heads. they look at you the second you step inside, and it’s that slow head-to-toe look.
“yo, jj." one of them says, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “this your girl?”
“nah, man. just a friend.” jj’s arm tenses around you, shaking his head.
then he leans down, close enough that only you hear it. “go to my room, yeah? i’ll be there in a sec.”
and because it’s jj, because you trust him even when you shouldn’t, you nod. you walk past the guys with their heavy stares, and shut his bedroom door behind you.
by the time the front door slams and the voices fade, you’re already half-asleep on his bed. the mattress dips and you flinch, eyes snapping open, but it’s just him. his hand on your arm, his voice softer than when he talked to the guys.
“hey, it’s me. you’re good.”
you swallow hard, eyes burning all over again.
“they were so loud tonight, j. like… i thought…” your voice cracks, and you hate how small you sound.
jj doesn’t let you finish. he just pulls you against him, holds you like he’s done it a hundred times.
“who were those guys?” you ask after a moment, your voice muffled in his shirt. he hesitates, which is answer enough.
“just… some friends of barry’s.”
you pull back to look at him.
“don’t worry about it, alright? i got it handled.” he coughs, like he wants to bury the topic, then forces a grin. “so you crashing here tonight?”
“i don’t wanna go home.” you admit, fiddling with the edge of his sheet.
“your parents are gonna kill me if they find out you keep sneakin’ over here.”
you laugh, a little watery. “what, you kicking me out?”
“no.” his smile tilts, tired but real. “was actually planning on hooking up with some tourist later, but…” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “guess i’ll stay in instead.”
you roll your eyes.
“guess i’ll take the couch.” he mumbles after a while, already starting to sit up. you grab his arm before he can move.
“no. stay here.”
he quirks a brow, smirking a little.
“but you always move too much when you sleep.”
your eyes narrow, lips pressing into a thin line. “jj.”
he laughs at the look you give him, hands raised in mock surrender. “okay, okay. i’ll stay.”
he disappears into the bathroom, and you can hear the sound of water running, the scrape of his toothbrush against his teeth.
when he comes back, you’re already tucked on one side of his bed, blanket pulled to your chest, phone lighting up your face. missed calls and texts. you sigh, thumb locking the screen.
jj doesn’t say anything, just pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor before flicking off the light. he climbs in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight.
“you know." he murmurs, voice teasing in the dark. “if your parents knew you were sleeping with me right now they’d actually kill me.”
you whip your head toward him, eyes wide even in the dark. “yeah. that sounded so bad.”
he chuckles, the sound low, warm. “i meant literally sleeping in my bed. not like that.”
your lips twitch, finally softening into a small smile. “goodnight, jj.”
“sweet dreams, princess.”
sleep comes easier than you thought it would, but the problem with jj being this close is that your body doesn’t care about boundaries, not even in dreams. you toss, you turn, and eventually your back ends up pressed flush against him. your ass nudges against his hip, his thigh, making him cling to the very edge of the mattress just to keep from touching you too much.
he’s dead asleep at first, but then—friction.
so slight he almost thinks he’s imagining it, until you shift again in your sleep, pushing back into him without meaning to. he groans softly, the sound slipping out before he can stop it. his eyes blink open, hazy from sleep, and he realizes he’s already half hard, straining against his shorts.
“god no." he breathes under his breath, forehead pressing to the pillow. he pokes your arm gently, whispering. “hey… hey, wake up.”
you only stir, mumbling something incoherent, moving just enough to roll a little closer to the middle of the bed. it gives him space, takes away the pressure, and he exhales a shaky sigh of relief.
but then he misses it. the warmth, the contact.
he stares at the ceiling, wide awake now. his hand drags over his face, debating and fighting himself. then slowly, almost helplessly, he inches closer again.
your back fits against his chest like it belongs there, and his hips brush yours all over again. his breath shudders out of him, because god, he’s so touch-starved it hurts.
jj tries to be good. really, he does. he tells himself it’s just your body shifting in your sleep, just an accident. but then you press into him again.
he grinds, just once, slow, and his eyes flutter shut because it feels so fucking good. the ache low in his stomach spikes, and before he knows it, he’s rolling onto his back, one arm thrown over his face like maybe that’ll stop him from completely losing it.
he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t. he should get up, sneak to the bathroom, lock the door and take care of it there. but then his gaze drags to you.
you're curled on your side, lips parted, those tiny shorts riding up your thighs. and his self-control slips through his fingers.
his hand presses against his cock through his shorts, the friction making him groan softly, head tipping back into the pillow. it’s too much, too good, and he can’t stop.
“fuck.” he breathes, hips lifting into his palm, desperate for more relief.
he shoves his shorts down just enough, wraps his hand around himself, and the first stroke makes his whole body shiver. he moves faster than he means to, hand slick, hips rolling up into it, and the little grunts spilling from his throat are getting louder, enough to cut through the quiet.
the bed shifts under his movements, the mattress dipping and creaking softly. you stir. a sleepy little whimper slips from your lips, and jj freezes, panic flooding him instantly.
your lashes flutter, eyes heavy as you shift, searching for him even half-asleep. your leg drapes lazily across his thigh, holding him in place.
jj curses under his breath, his hand stills, cock throbbing painfully in his grip.
“don’t—” he whispers, voice hoarse, leaning close to you. “go back to sleep, princess. please.”
his heart hammers so loud he swears you can hear it. he’s cursing himself silently, because what the fuck is he doing? touching himself next to you, like some perverted dude.
he drags his palm over his face, chest rising and falling hard. he should stop. he should definitely stop. but then his hand shifts lower, brushing over your bare thigh. just barely like he can’t resist.
you twitch under his touch, a sleepy little hum leaving your throat.
“jj?" your voice is raspy and soft, like it always gets when you first wake up.
he freezes, but his hand doesn’t move away.
your eyes flutter open slowly, hazy from sleep, finding him beside you.
the sight makes your stomach twist—his flushed face, his hand still at his cock, his lips parted, guilty and needy all at once.
your voice is small, confused. “are you…?”
he squeezes his eyes shut. “shit.”
you push yourself up fast, heart pounding, staring at him. his hair a mess, chest heaving, pupils blown wide, his hand falling away like he’s ashamed.
“sorry." he mutters, voice rough. “fuck, i’m sorry, i didn’t—”
but the words die when your hand slides over his stomach, then lower, wrapping around him where he’s still hard, slick and heavy in your palm.
jj chokes on his breath, eyes darting to yours. but he doesn’t say anything. he can’t.
you stroke him slowly, watching his face.
“you... you like this?” your voice barely above a whisper.
his throat bobs, lips parting, and all he can do is nod.
the heat between you two is too thick to breathe in. you can’t help it. you unzip your hoodie, letting it fall open, your bra the only thing covering you underneath. jj’s eyes flick down, then back up to your face, like he doesn’t dare ask for more. like he’s scared the second he does you’ll pull away. so he just lets it happen.
you crawl lower, in between his thighs, and he doesn’t move. doesn’t even breathe, until your mouth replaces your hand, warm and wet around his cock.
jj groans, his head tipping back, fist clenching tight in the sheets. “jesus christ—”
you take your time, feeling him twitch on your tongue. his hips lift without him meaning to, fucking into your mouth like he can’t control it.
he’s close fast, way too fast.
“wait—, wait, you gotta stop, i’m gonna—”
but you don’t. you keep going, swallowing every sound he makes until he breaks apart with a strangled groan, finishing in your mouth, his whole body shuddering.
you lift your head slowly, wiping your lips, your chest rising and falling hard. jj’s hand shoots out, grabbing the front of your hoodie, dragging you up to him.
he kisses you rough, desperate, tasting himself on your tongue, groaning into your mouth as you swallow together.
when you finally break apart, both of you breathing heavy, you just stare at him.
“what the fuck was that, jj?” your voice is shaky. “why the hell were you jerking off right next to me?”
jj scrubs a hand over his face, still catching his breath, chest rising and falling hard.
“i didn’t— fuck, i didn’t mean to, alright?” his voice is low, defensive, like he’s trying to convince himself. “i just got horny, and you were right there, and—”
he shakes his head, teeth gritting, then shoots you a look. “but— huh? you are the one that just gave me head!"
you can’t answer. your lips part, your throat dry, but nothing comes out. you roll your eyes instead, huffing, and flop onto your side with your back to him.
“whatever, jj.”
he stares at you in the dim light. the room goes quiet for a beat. then suddenly he’s moving. the blanket yanks down, his hand curling around the waistband of your tiny shorts, tugging them down in one swift.
“what— the fuck are you doing?” you snap, twisting to look at him.
but his gaze drops instantly, and his breath catches. you’re wet. soaked, actually, the thin fabric of your panties sticking to you.
“so mad and for what.” his lips curl into a grin, low and smug. you whine, covering your face with your hands.
“you’re so annoying.”
he laughs, leaning over you, one hand sliding over your bare hip while the other palms your ass. “annoying, huh?”
his hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing against your damp panties, and you jolt, a soft sound escaping your throat before you can stop it.
“doesn’t sound like i’m that annoying.” his voice is cocky.
you don’t push him away when he’s groping you, not when his fingers tease the fabric clinging to your folds. you’re letting him.
jj’s smirk deepens when you don’t stop him. your thighs shift, but not to push him away—just restless, nervous, like you don’t know what to do with yourself.
“mhm. i did that.” he mutters, dragging his fingers slowly over the damp spot on your panties. the sound you make when he presses down has his cock twitching all over again. “acting all pissed at me, but you’re pussy's soaked.”
“shut up.” you whine, face burning.
he chuckles, low and dirty, before tugging your shorts the rest of the way down. he tosses them off the bed, then hooks his fingers into your panties too.
“maybank—” you start, but it comes out more like a gasp when he pulls them aside, finally seeing you bare in the moonlight.
you squirm, but his hand is already there, fingers slipping between your folds, gathering your wetness. the first drag of his fingertip against your clit makes your hips jerk.
“oh my god—” you breathe, nails digging into the sheets.
he circles your clit lazily, watching the way you twitch under his touch. he pushes a finger into you without warning, making you arch. your walls clutch around him immediately. he groans, pumping it in and out.
“shit, princess, you’re choking my finger.”
"i mean— you do have big fingers..." you hide your face in the pillow, whining.
but his free hand tugs your hair just enough to tilt your head back so he can see your expression. he adds another finger, stretching you, curling them just right until your moans turn higher.
“nah. don’t hide from me.”
his thumb brushes your clit, and you’re a mess already, hips rocking into his hand.
“wait— jj, j—”
he grins against your ear. “feeling good?”
you nod desperately, and that’s all it takes for him to pull his fingers out, leaving you clenching around nothing.
“relax. you'll like this.” he says, sliding down the bed.
before you can argue, his tongue is flat against your folds, groaning like he’s starved.
“holy shit.” he mumbles against you, licking a long stripe up your pussy before wrapping his lips around your clit.
your hand flies to his hair, tugging, thighs trembling as he eats you out like he’s been waiting his whole life for this. every flick of his tongue, every suck, drags you closer, and when he slides those fingers back inside while sucking your clit—you come hard.
a strangled cry leaving your throat as your hips grind against his mouth. jj moans into you, drinking it.
“you taste even better than i imagined.”
you’re still panting when he crawls back up, hovering over you. his shorts are already halfway down his hips, his cock heavy and hard, pressing against your thigh.
“so... do you want my cock inside your pussy? hm?" he says, voice rough, though his eyes already know you want it.
you grab his shoulders, pulling him down. “yeah just—fuck me, jj.”
that’s all he needs to line himself up, pushes in slowly, and both of you gasp at the stretch.
“jesus—” he groans, dropping his forehead to yours. “why are you this thight?”
“jj, can you just— move.”
he bottoms out, giving you a second to adjust before pulling back and snapping his hips forward again. the bed creaks, the air filling with the sound of skin slapping, his groans mixing with your moans.
“you feel—fuck—so good.” jj grits out, his pace quickening.
your nails dig into his back, your body arching into his as he pounds into you, hitting deep with every thrust.
“mhm!— faster!— jj i’m—”
he growls against your neck, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate.
your climax crashes over you, clenching around him so tight it drags a strangled curse from his throat. he buries himself deep, grinding against you as you pulse around him.
“fuckfuckfuck—” he groans, spilling inside you, hips stuttering.
both of you collapse into the sheets, breathless, sweaty, tangled together in the dark.
for a long moment, it’s silent except for your ragged breathing. then you finally whisper, half-teasing and half-serious.
“you’re still an asshole for jerking off next to me.”
jj just laughs, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “yeah, but you liked it.”
the air smelled like smoke and saltwater, sweat and marshmallows someone burned three tries ago. jj sat back in his fold out chair, legs sprawled, shirt halfway unbuttoned, his hands flying as he told some wild story about almost getting bit by a gator “the size of a damn minivan.”
“swear to god,” he said, eyebrows high, voice rising with every word. “I blinked, and the thing was right there- teeth like steak knives, bro, I’m not even joking-”
“You’re always joking,” pope muttered, but he was grinning.
jj grinned wider, about to ramp it up even more, when you appeared- barefoot, hair mussed from the wind, wearing jj’s hoodie with the sleeves pushed up. a cigarette dangled from your fingers, the end glowing soft in the dark. You didn’t say anything, just walked right over like you owned the earth beneath your feet.
he caught sight of you and his smile softened a little. but he didn’t stop talking. Not when you dropped into his lap without a word, wiggled until you found your spot, your back leaned into his chest like you were made to fit there. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist.
He paused only to tap your thigh gently with two fingers. “hey, baby.”
“Mm,” you hummed, head dropping against his collarbone, your cigarette tilted lazily away from both of you. You were already half asleep, warmth seeping from the fire and jj’s body heat.
jj looked down at you and chuckled, brushing some hair from your face. “she’s out,” he murmured.
you weren’t fully gone yet - you grumbled something soft, maybe about being tired or the hoodie smelling like campfire and him. but your body was heavy against him, breathing slowing, melting into sleep like it was second nature.
he gave your ass a soft tap, a casual little thing like always, then pulled the blanket from behind the chair and threw it around both of you.
Without missing a beat, he looked back up at the group. “anyway, then the gator lunges, and I swear on my life, I had to dive behind Pope like he was a human shield.”
“Bullshit,” pope said through a laugh.
“man’s lucky I’m fast. It was me or the gator, and I chose me.”
behind his words, jj’s hand rubbed lazy circles into your hip, and your chest rose and fell steady against his. His voice stayed loud and animated, but his other hand held your cigarette so it didn’t drop.
Summary: JJ wonders why you never go swimming with any of the Pogues. So he takes it upon himself to find out
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of drowning/death, aquaphobia, mild swearing
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: Enjoy <3
Masterlist
You peer into the water, watching the bubbles breaking the surface from where Pope had just dove in, nearly landing on John B’s head. You let out a soft chuckle, watching them play like there wasn’t a care in the world. Kiara was further away from the boat with Sarah, waiting for the boys to follow them.
You wondered what it would be like to swim out here again. It would be nice not to feel left out anytime the group wanted to go swimming or surfing, even though it was a feeling of your own making. Your smile faded at the thought.
Suddenly, you feel your body being pulled from the edge of the boat by two strong hands gripping your waist. Just as quickly, your feet are no longer touching the floor of the boat; they’re being swept out from under you. You feel a body pressed to you and look into his eyes, yours wild with fear.
“J, what are you-” you start, grasping at his biceps, struggling against his strong hold on you.
“Better hold your breath, sweetheart,” he says, moving closer to the side of the boat.
You can feel his chest expand as he sucks in his breath of air and takes a step up. “No, JJ, no, put me down!” you scream.
But it was too late.
The two of you were already falling through the air off the side of The Snapper. You held on to JJ as tightly as you could, your stomach dropping farther than the drop off of the boat (which was even more terrifying because this boat was much larger than the HMS Pogue was).
Your body started to drift from JJ’s just before you hit the water, and there was no air in your lungs. You were petrified with fear. The water encompassed you, and you instantly lost JJ. The bubbles from your abrupt entry into the water surrounded you, tickling your skin. You opened your eyes under the water's surface and saw the outline of JJ’s body already making its way back up for air.
But you were still sinking. Why were you sinking? What the hell was happening right now? You opened your mouth to scream for help, instantly regretting your decision. Water flooded your airways, seeping to the very bottom of your lungs. Your eyes were burning, and you didn’t know where you were.
Is this what drowning felt like? You fill up with water like a sponge until there’s nothing left for you to take in. You tried to move your arms in any direction you could, trying to move your body in any direction. The water was thick like honey, keeping your limbs stagnant. But you still weren’t moving fast enough. You weren’t going to make it to the surface. There was no time left.
The corners of your vision started to blur before beginning to go dark. Your limbs were weightless, floating aimlessly in the water. You felt no pain, no fear. Your body was shutting down. You felt your body jolt upwards suddenly, just before your vision completely faded.
Before your eyes are even open, you’re coughing up water. Aggressively. Your lungs can’t fill up with air fast enough, and the water clogging your airways going in the opposite direction wasn’t helping. Your gag reflex kicked in, and you rolled your head to the side to try to keep yourself from drowning. Again.
“Oh my God,” you heard someone mumble. There were a few sighs, even a 'thank God'. You finally opened your eyes, but everything was blurry. You were blinded by the sun's reflection on all the white surrounding you. You closed your eyes, unable to see anything anyway.
From the gentle swaying you felt, you were back on the boat. Thank God. You rolled onto your back again and took deep breaths, still coughing every few breaths.
You opened your eyes again, seeing a blond mop of sea-kissed curls blocking the sun from your view. You could see the sun rays poking out in a few different directions past his head. It almost looked like a halo around his head. JJ was hovering above you, his hands placed on either side of your head, his legs straddling your hips. He looked into your eyes, worry written all over his countenance. It pained you to see him so upset.
“What the hell happened?” someone asked. Pope. You recognized his hoarse voice instantly. He was somewhere by your head, out of your field of vision.
“They jumped in together, and y/n just never came back up,” Kie said somewhere to your left. You turned your head toward her, seeing how worried she was.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know,” you said, trying to relieve the apparent tension surrounding you. Pope sighed as he walked to the back of the boat.
“Apparently, we can,” John B retorted. He was standing next to Kie. Sarah was cradled into his side and smacked his chest lightly, even though she was smiling.
“You never said you can’t swim,” JJ muttered. You turned your attention back to the blonde boy still blocking the sun from you. You gave him a confused look, not processing what he just said.
“You never told us. Why the hell wouldn’t you tell us something like that?” He asked, his voice getting louder. He moved himself off of you, allowing the sun to blind you in his absence. You squinted and attempted to sit up. Sarah jolted forward to help you. JJ was pacing, running his fingers through his hair. “If I would have known that, I wouldn’t have jumped into the water with you!” He shouted.
“JJ..” you started, but he wasn’t stopping.
“You could’ve died! You were just at the bottom of the marsh and-”
“It’s okay, J-” John B started, placing a hand on his chest. JJ brushed him off and shook his head. He grabbed his hat from the floor of the boat and fixed it the way he does so effortlessly. You looked up to try and meet his gaze, but he was looking anywhere but at you. He shook his head again and moved to the boat's cockpit.
You looked down at your hands in your lap, unsure what to do. Guilt washed over you. JJ started the engine and did quick work to get the boat going. John B patted your shoulder and smiled before walking towards the back of the ship. Kie wrapped a towel around your shoulders, goosebumps blanketing your skin as the salty marsh air whipped around you. Sarah and Kie sat on either side of you, wrapping their arms around you. They were keeping you safe in their own way.
You looked back up, trying to catch JJ’s eye, but he was looking out on the water, not so much as glancing in your direction. His jaw was clenched tightly, unwavering as he maneuvered the boat through the marsh.
You felt terrible. Guilt was seeping out of your every poor. You felt nauseous. And your diaphragm hurts, like the feeling you have after you’ve had hiccups for an hour.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before,” you whispered to the girls. Kie scoffed, resting her elbow on her knee and placing her hand under her chin.
Sarah rubbed your back. “It would have been nice to know,” she said lightheartedly.
“I just figured you were scared of sharks or something crazy. Even though they are very gentle creatures,” Kie added. You laughed (or attempted to). It quickly became a cough with even more water coming out of your lungs. You wiped at your mouth with the towel. When you looked up, JJ’s eyes were boring a hole into your skull. He looked away when he noticed you were staring back at him. It was going to be a long ride back to Poguelandia.
You were almost dry by the time JJ had the boat docked. Pope had made his way back to the front of the boat to check on you. He checked your pupils and made sure you didn’t have a concussion. He confirmed that your chances of surviving were almost 100% (because, of course, we could die at any given second).
Everyone unloaded off the boat, JJ being the first to take off once everything was tied down. He walked up the ramp to the shop and sat behind the counter. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair again before putting it back on. He was pacing back and forth, checking on random things in the small store space. Kie waited up for you as everyone made their way back to the house.
"I'll catch up," you told her, glancing at the shop and back to her. She gave you a sympathetic smile before turning and following the others. You unwrapped the towel from around your shoulders and laid it across the railing leading up to the shop. You walked up slowly while making sure not to sneak up on him.
But he knew you were coming.
JJ had his back turned to you, looking out on the water now. You could see his chest moving quickly. His hands were resting on the railing. He used his hands to pull his body forward, bringing his mouth to rest on his hands.
“J, I’m so sorry,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. You stared at the back of his head, trying to read his body language.
“I don’t understand,” he said quietly. He shook his head and straightened his back, turning around to face you. You stared at his face. He no longer looked angry. He was upset, eyes red and bloodshot. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
This wasn’t carefree JJ Maybank, reckless and altruistic until the day he died. This was JJ, vulnerable and terrified, cracking open right before you. All you wanted to do was rush up to him and hug him. Tell him that it was all just a fucked up joke and that he didn’t need to be worried. He could go back to being his energetic self and not worry about you anymore.
But you knew it was time. It was time to tell him the truth.
You sighed deeply. Before you could form the right words to start, JJ huffed and put on a stern face. He wiped aggressively at his cheeks, thinking that your sigh was a sign that you weren’t going to justify yourself, that you thought he was being stupid and overreacting.
No, he wasn’t about to stick around for that. He started to walk away, trying to brush past you and get away as quickly as possible.
You caught his wrist before he could get too far. “Stay,” you practically whispered. You held his wrist in your hand. JJ refused to look at you at that moment. You took in a shaky breath. “Please,” you begged. JJ sighed and threw his head back. He slowly turned around, and you let go of his wrist. He kept his gaze lowered to the ground, leaning against one of the wooden beams, studying a knot in the floorboard. When you examined his face, you could see the fallen tear trails. Your heart broke in half.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you started. He still didn’t look up. You could see his nose twitch as he sniffled. You continued anyway. “I should have said something months ago. Hell, I should have said something the first time we went out to surf the surge. But I was scared you guys would judge me.” You paused, still trying to look him in the eye. You moved closer to him, your face inches away from his. You gently lifted his chin with your hand, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were red, and his jaw was tight. You moved your hand to cup his cheek. You felt him lean into your touch slightly. “But…I know how to swim, J,” you said slowly. JJ’s eyes went wide, a multitude of emotions wracking through his brain. He started to pull away from your hand unknowingly. You quickly dropped your hand from his cheek and turned your back to him. You thought he was rejecting your touch, his anger unforgiving. The guilt was engulfing you, swallowing you whole. You felt terrible.
There was an uncomfortable pause, the silence deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat threatening to beat out of your chest.
“What happened then? Why didn’t you swim?” He asked you. JJ followed you to the edge of the shop where he stood earlier, staring out into the horizon. You just shook your head. Now, it was your turn to avoid eye contact. JJ was leaning on the railing to your left, and you focused on everything and anything to your right.
“When I was seven, my dad took me out in the marsh. A quick fishing trip, nothing fancy. Some daddy-daughter time. But it all went so wrong. My dad, he…” you stopped, choking on your words. You swallowed harshly. JJ stared at you intently, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together. “I was stuck out there for three days by myself,” you whispered. Realization dawned on him.
You were the Marsh Girl.
Rumors still went around about the Marsh Girl. People said that her dad went out there and killed both of them, leaving the boat behind as the only evidence. Or that the girl pushed him off the boat and claimed that it was an accident.
The news said a girl was found after three days of being out there, but the name was never released, so of course, kids made up stories. JJ’s worry and anger melted away. He didn’t dare move closer to you, afraid that the slightest movement might shatter you into dust, letting you fall between the gaps of the dock and taken away by the murky water below. Instead, you turn to face him, building up the courage to look at him when you say this.
“My dad...he must have had a heart attack or something and lost his balance. I was too young to remember all of the details. But when he went over the side of the boat, he took me into the water with him. He almost drowned me," you took in a shaky breath, reliving the memories in a flash second. "When we jumped into the water today…I don’t know what happened to me. I saw you going back up to the water's surface, and I was just…stuck. I wondered if it was how my dad felt when he went into the water. He could see me getting to the surface but couldn’t make it back up himself,” you stated calmly. You close your eyes, unable to look at JJ. Another second, looking at his shattered face, and you would break yourself. “J, I know how to swim.”
“What?” he didn’t mean to say it; it slipped out before he could stop it. JJ mentally smacked a hand over his mouth. He studied your face to see if you were messing with him.
“I can swim,” you repeated.
This whole time, JJ thought that he almost drowned you. He had always wondered why you never went into the water with everyone else. He figured it was so that you could keep up on your amazing sunkissed skin or because you didn’t want to get your hair wet. He knew you weren’t that superficial, but it still had crossed his mind. He never in a thousand years would have guessed that this was why you didn’t touch the water.
“y/n, I almost killed you,” JJ said, fear seeping back into his every pore. The thought of losing you, especially at his own hands, was suffocating. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, unable to control his now erratic breathing. Noticing his panic, you closed the distance between the two of you and placed your hands on either side of his face. You used your thumbs to gently wipe away the stray tears that fell from his eyes.
“No, no, J, this is not your fault. You didn’t know.”
“I should have known. I should have just asked you why you didn’t ever swim with us. Lord knows I’ve bothered you enough times about going with me,” he dropped his head again, feeling defeated. You gently pushed his face back up, forcing him to meet your eyeline.
“You had no way of knowing,” you reassured him, smiling a little. You stroked your thumb across his cheekbone and felt him lean into your touch. He closed his eyes tightly.
“The thought of losing you…” he sucks in a jagged breath. He won’t let the thought go. He can’t. The images of your lifeless body floating in the water, replaying over and over again like a bad movie montage. “I was the one who pulled you out of the water. You weren’t breathing, and I-”
You quickly pulled JJ’s face down to yours, connecting your lips gently. You couldn’t think of a better way to ground him. To keep him from spiraling again. He was stiff for only a second, his brain not catching up to what you were doing. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this.
Then his face pressed closer to yours, his lips pushing deeper into the kiss. You smiled into him. JJ’s hand moved to your hips, and he squeezed gently. Your hands slid down to his neck, and you pulled back, seeing JJ's toothy grin. His eyes were still red and puffy, but he was smiling. He was downright giddy, swimming in a wide range of emotions he didn’t understand. But you grounded him.
You were his anchor.
“Would now be a bad time to ask if you wanted to go surfing with me tomorrow?” He asked, teasing. You smacked him on the chest and let out a genuine laugh. JJ pulled you into a tight hug. One that told you he was never letting you go.
From the shore, you could hear the Pogues hooting and hollering, witnessing your very public display of affection. But you didn’t care. Nothing mattered now except the sweet, broken boy before you. Your entire world.
Your anchor.
“Why don’t we go ahead and give them a real show,” JJ whispered in your ear. You squealed as he started to pepper your face with kisses.
A/N: I desperately needed to write something happy after watching season 4 <3 This is unedited, so please ignore any typos or stupid grammatical errors.
Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected, but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:
Please check out this post for useful mental health resources.
a/n: happy mother’s day to all the amazing moms, mother figures, future moms, pet moms, and anyone who spends their days loving and caring for others 🤍
You woke up to tiny feet hitting your ribs.
Not hard enough to hurt,just enough to drag you out of sleep with a confused groan as another little body climbed directly over your stomach.
“Dad said we can wake you up,” a small voice whispered loudly.
You cracked one eye open.
Two blonde heads stared back at you.
Of course.
You squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand. “It is seven in the morning.”
Your daughter gasped dramatically. “But it’s Mother’s Day.”
“As if that explains why I’m being attacked before sunrise,” you mumbled.
Your son immediately climbed into your lap anyway. “Daddy said we had a mission.”
That made you suspicious instantly.
“Where is your father?” you asked carefully.
Both twins exchanged identical grins,the exact same mischievous grin as JJ Maybank.
Which was honestly unfair.
The twins looked so much like JJ it was almost ridiculous. Same blonde hair sticking up in every direction after sleep, same bright blue eyes, same tendency to look guilty and excited at the exact same time.
Your daughter pointed toward the hallway. “Kitchen.”
“Being weird,” your son added helpfully.
“Ah,” you said. “So a normal day.”
You heard JJ’s offended voice immediately.
“Hey!”
A second later he appeared in the doorway wearing gray sweatpants, a backwards cap, and an expression that was far too proud for seven in the morning.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he informed you.
“You sent tiny humans to tackle me.”
“That was part of the plan.”
You stared at him. “There was a plan?”
JJ crossed his arms. “A very good plan, actually.”
The twins nodded seriously beside you.
You sighed. “I’m already scared.”
“Mommy,” your daughter whispered dramatically, “you have to come downstairs.”
Your son grabbed your hand immediately. “Right now.”
JJ leaned against the doorway with the most self-satisfied grin you’d ever seen. “C’mon, babe. Don’t ruin the surprise.”
“The surprise better not involve another near-fire situation.”
JJ looked offended. “I burned breakfast one time.”
“You burned cereal.”
“That was an accident.”
The twins burst into giggles while you laughed tiredly into your hand.
Then your daughter tugged your sleeve harder. “Mommyyyy.”
“Okay, okay.” You pushed yourself upright slowly while your son immediately wrapped himself around your back like a koala. “Why are you climbing me?”
“Because I love you.”
Your expression softened instantly.
JJ noticed and pointed accusingly. “Hey. That’s emotional manipulation.”
“It worked,” you whispered.
Your son grinned proudly.
You finally made your way downstairs with one twin attached to your hand and the other attached to your hip while JJ followed behind like he was escorting royalty.
The second you stepped into the kitchen, you stopped.
“Oh my God.”
The table was covered in chaos.
Flowers,slightly crooked in a mason jar. Crushed wrapping paper everywhere. A tray of pancakes that looked dangerously uneven. Tiny handwritten cards scattered across the table in crayon.
And standing proudly in the middle of it all was JJ.
“Tada.”
You stared at the disaster for a long moment before looking at him. “Did a hurricane come through here?”
JJ placed a hand over his heart. “Wow.”
The twins were bouncing already.
“We helped!”
“I made the flowers!”
“I cracked eggs!”
“Daddy dropped one!”
“It exploded!”
JJ pointed at your son. “Traitor.”
You laughed so hard you had to lean against the counter.
Your daughter immediately ran over holding a folded paper with both hands. “This one is mine.”
You took it carefully.
The front was covered in blue marker hearts and very uneven writing that read:
BEST MOM EVER!!!
Your chest tightened immediately.
“Oh, baby…”
“I drew us,” she explained proudly.
Inside was a picture made entirely of stick figures with yellow scribbles for hair. One figure was noticeably taller and holding what looked suspiciously like a surfboard.
“Daddy insisted on the surfboard,” your daughter whispered.
JJ defended himself instantly. “Artistic accuracy matters.”
You laughed softly, blinking hard against the sudden sting behind your eyes.
Your son shoved his card toward you next. “Mine too!”
His was somehow even messier.
There were stickers everywhere. At least three words spelled incorrectly. One suspicious brown smudge.
“Is this chocolate?” you asked carefully.
He froze.
JJ immediately snorted. “Oh, busted.”
“It’s not chocolate,” your son said suspiciously fast.
You looked at JJ.
JJ looked delighted. “It’s definitely chocolate.”
Your son gasped. “Dad!”
You finally laughed again, shaking your head. “You two are literally the same person.”
The twins climbed onto chairs while JJ moved around the kitchen pretending he was hosting a five-star restaurant.
“Okay,” he announced. “Everyone sit down.”
You eyed the pancakes warily. “Should I be concerned?”
“No faith in me. That’s crazy.”
“You once set toast on fire.”
“That toaster was against me.”
Your daughter leaned over and whispered loudly, “Daddy almost cried.”
“I did not cry.”
“You said bad words.”
JJ pointed at her dramatically. “Snitch.”
You buried your face in your hands, laughing again while he placed a plate in front of you with entirely too much confidence.
The pancakes were… honestly not terrible.
You blinked in surprise after the first bite.
JJ noticed immediately. “Ha.”
“They’re actually good.”
“I know.”
“That’s suspicious.”
“I can cook!”
“Since when?”
“Since I became emotionally invested in impressing you.”
Your son shoved a pancake into his mouth before speaking. “Daddy made us taste test.”
“Three batches,” your daughter added.
You stared at JJ. “Three?”
“Perfection takes sacrifice.”
“You mean burning things.”
“That too.”
The twins dissolved into laughter again, nearly falling off their chairs.
God.
You looked around the kitchen quietly for a second,the messy table, syrup already smeared across tiny fingers, JJ trying to steal whipped cream while pretending he wasn’t, your babies smiling so hard their eyes squinted shut.
And suddenly your chest hurt a little from how much love was sitting in front of you.
JJ noticed you go quiet.
His expression softened instantly. “Hey.”
You looked up.
“What’s that face for?”
You smiled faintly. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
You looked down at your plate for a second before speaking quietly. “I just… can’t believe this is my life sometimes.”
The kitchen got softer after that.
Not silent,never silent with your family,but gentler somehow.
JJ leaned his elbows on the table watching you carefully. “Good thing or scary thing?”
You laughed quietly through the emotion building in your throat. “Good thing.”
The twins were still talking over each other beside you.
“Daddy woke us up sooo early.”
“She kicked him.”
“You cried.”
“I did not cry!”
“You said ‘owww.’”
JJ gasped dramatically. “I am being bullied in my own house.”
Your daughter grinned. “Mommy likes us more.”
“Unbelievable betrayal.”
You laughed harder as JJ stood up and scooped both twins into his arms at once despite their squealing protests.
“Okay, rude tiny people,” he said, kissing both of their heads while they giggled uncontrollably. “I literally helped create you.”
“That’s gross!” your son yelled instantly.
You nearly choked laughing.
JJ looked offended. “Excuse me? That’s how babies happen.”
“Dad,” your daughter groaned dramatically.
“Oh, now you’re embarrassed.”
“Stop talking!”
JJ cackled while both twins tried to hide their faces against his shoulders.
You watched them together, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
The twins looked exactly like him.
Not just physically,though they had JJ written all over them,but in the way they laughed loudly without caring who heard, in the way they loved with their entire hearts, in the way they filled every room with energy and warmth and chaos.
JJ caught you staring again.
“There’s that look,” he said softly.
“What look?”
“The emotional one.”
You rolled your eyes, but your vision blurred anyway.
“Oh no,” JJ said immediately. “Are you crying?”
“I am not crying.”
Your son pointed at you dramatically. “Mommy’s crying!”
“I’m literally fine.”
JJ set the twins down quickly and walked over to you with a grin tugging at his mouth. “C’mere.”
Before you could protest, he pulled you into him, warm hands sliding around your waist while the twins made exaggerated gagging noises behind him.
“Ewwww.”
“They’re kissing again.”
JJ ignored them completely, resting his forehead against yours.
“You know,” he said quietly, “they were very serious about today.”
You smiled. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Tiny dictators.” He laughed softly. “Your daughter threatened me because I almost bought the wrong flowers.”
You snorted. “She did not.”
“She absolutely did. Scariest experience of my life.”
You shook your head, smiling against him.
Then his expression softened completely.
“Happy Mother’s Day, babe.”
The way he said it,quiet and sincere and full of love,hit you harder than everything else combined.
You looked over at your twins, now arguing over whipped cream again, then back at JJ.
“You guys are insane,” you whispered emotionally.
JJ grinned. “Yeah.”
Your daughter suddenly looked up. “But you love us!”
You laughed through the tears finally slipping free. “Yeah,” you said softly. “More than anything.”
JJ kissed your forehead gently while the twins immediately tackled both of you into a group hug that nearly sent everyone falling sideways.
💭 thinking about bigbro!jj x bratty!sister!reader and he loves to put you in your place … TW INCEST MDNI 18+ (a bit rushed not fully proofread but show me love anyway 😞🫶🏼)
“you really think you can talk to me like that and get away with it?” jj growls, one large hand gripping both your of wrists above your head, the other toying with the drawstring on your shorts. you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from smirking, but your whole body shivered under his touch, at his words, he was breaking you. “what? y’mad cause m’ tellin the truth?” jj snorts, yanking your wrist higher above your head making a gasp dart out past your lips, “truth?” his fingers dip into your waistband, brushing over the soft skin of your hip, and he lets out a laugh, mockingly, “you wouldn’t know truth if it slapped you in that spoiled little mouth,”
now he had you on your knees in front of him, glossy plump lips wrapped tight around his cock while he fists clumps of your hair. no more of your bratty mouth, no more childish jokes and insults, just the sounds of your wet tongue lapping him from base to tip, “fuckin’ look at that,” jj groans, thumb brushing over your bottom lip smearing the drool mixed with precum that’s pooled there, “potty mouth’s good for somethin’ after all, uh?” his hips buck into you, nose pressing against his pelvis causing you to gag but he didn’t let up. a guttural moan falls from his lips, “stay like that — don’t fuckin’ move,” jj thrusts further, tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, deep and slow with every curse he let out. tears prick your eyes, blinking multiple times to relieve the sting but your stomach clenched and you gagged on him again, hands shooting up to grip the back of his legs as you try to pull away.
“no, no, you wanna talk all that shit?” jj wraps his fingers tighter in your hair, scalp burning as he pulls you closer. “you can take it, baby” jj mutters, his freehand comes down to rub at your throat, feeling himself throbbing there, “c’mon sissy, gonna let me cum in this dirty mouth?” you nod desperately, acrylic nails digging into his thighs, chest heaving and eyes rolling back as you took him. “atta girl, fuuuk— there we go” your throat squeezes around him one last time before spurts of his cum shoot down your throat, and you swallow it all — just like he taught you.
Summary: it didn't matter that she did everything for him. it didn't matter that she loved him. insecurities ruin a great thing, love can't fix these problems
Authors note: angsty angsty angsty, bad JJ
Song rec: grave by tate mccrae
Part 2: Wanted
Perfect.
Everything had to be perfect.
The perfect dress. The perfect makeup. The perfect boy.
The past several days were borderline catastrophic with JJ getting arrested for sinking Topper’s boat. I begged and pleaded with my parents to help me get him out, promising them anything they wanted. They asked for the one thing I couldn’t give them. JJ.
And yet, I said yes. I said yes because the thought of him sitting in a cell all alone, stuck with nothing but his thoughts made my stomach turn. He’s always thought that nobody needed him. Maybe that was something his drunken father drilled into him but it was far from the truth. I needed him.
Everything had spun out of control and it all started the minute I met JJ Maybank. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Being with him was like walking for the first time. Nerve wracking yet exhilarating--freeing.
My life before him was just that, a life. Everything revolved around being the perfect little daughter to my parents. Debutantes, charity dinners, polo matches, and country clubs filled my schedule to the brim but they were rarely there. My mother was running a successful fashion line, working on her latest release while my father was a shark in the courtroom. While I loved every second of splurging on clothes, lavish trips to Europe, brunch at my favorite restaurant, I was missing something. I always felt like something was missing in a world where I had everything.
That’s not to say I’m ungrateful for every opportunity my position and family has afforded me. But when you spend enough time with people you realize are only conversing with you for money or to step on you to increase their social capital, nothing seems genuine.
Everything interaction was superficial and it became isolating. But with JJ, each and every moment we shared was intimate and unfeigned.
He taught me how to surf the swells he spent hours in daily. I learned the slight touch of hand in the art of being a mild kleptomaniac. After several failed attempts and many loud complaints, I could finally balance on his dirt bike.
None of these moments could be bought with money and maybe that’s why I cherished them so much. I cherished them so greatly that I refused to let them go.
And in turn, I couldn’t let him go. Despite the ever growing distance that's wedged itself between us the moment he was released from jail. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe it could have been the condescending jabs my dad threw his way, but JJ had pulled away.
My father's threats to revoke the bail money hung heavy above our heads. So tonight, I was going to try and change that. I needed to bridge the gap that had us so far apart. Midsummers was how I was going to achieve that.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for several seconds to calm my racing heart. I open them slowly, dragging my gaze along my reflection on the floor length mirror at the entrance to the club. A silky number drapes my dainty figure in the softest brush of yellow with threaded pearls as straps. Ivory satin Jimmy Choo heels from their latest collection decorated my feet.
The familiar rumble of a truck had a grin pulling at the corners of my lips. My parents were somewhere in the building, having been on the board and needed to sign off on some last minute details.
I didn’t mind the constant abandonment. The loneliness that once clung to me had slowly evaporated the moment JJ entered my world.
Grabbing my Chrsitian Dior clutch, I headed for the entrance of the Island Club. A familiar mass of shaggy blonde hair had my feet moving quicker. The minute his face came into view I knew something was wrong.
His lips were tight in a grim line as he continuously shook his head. I quickened my steps, apologizing swiftly to several people who were trying to get my attention.
“I’m sorry, sir. Are you a member here?”
“Well, no, but my girlfriend-.”
“Then I’m afraid you're going to have to turn back around. This is a private club.”
“Listen dude, my girlfriend invited me and-”
“Sir, you need to get back into your vehicle before I call security.” The coordinator, who went by Ryan, dismissed JJ without a second glance.
JJ’s eyes narrowed. “If you’d let me speak-”
“This is private property.”
“Bro, calm down. You’re not protecting the president.” JJ huffed, shoving his hands into his pocket. His cheeks tinted a slight red which had my blood boiling.
He was person. Period. One that didn't deserve to be treated like that especially in such a public setting. I was livid at the thought of Ryan managing to make JJ feel embarrassed.
“You’re not a member-”
“No, but I am.” I snapped coming to a stop beside him, causing the event coordinator to rear his head back in surprise.
“Hey, baby. ” The familiar pull of his voice coated me like the warmest honey. A smirk tugged at his lips at the obvious irritation on my face.
Pausing to give JJ my attention, I placed a soft kiss on his lips and pushed back a wild strand of blonde hair. “Hi.”
The smile he gave me was like a sudden beam of light that hit me square in the chest.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t realize he was with you-”
“Add JJ Maybank to my member account,” My words were sharp and left little room for argument, though they were dripping with the sickeningly sweet tone I mastered at the young age of twelve. “Consider yourself up to date.”
“I’ll get it done.” With that, Ryan tipped his head and left quickly.
I bristled once more, muttering under my breath, ”Dick.” My chest was heavy with guilt at his treatment, wondering if this was actually a good idea. I gnawed at my bottom lip nervously.
This was not how I wanted our night to start.
“I’ve never been a member before.”
Not bothering to conceal my giggle, I turned around and allowed my eyes to drift over every inch of JJ. The black suit I bought him was fitted and hugged every muscle in a way that had my stomach clenching.
Sun kissed hands reached for me the moment I was within his reach. My arms wrap around the mass of lean muscles, my nose buried in his neck. Taking a deep breath, salt and sex wax filled my senses and I let myself relax.
Home. He felt like home.
“You look very handsome.”
A rumble left his chest. “My sugar mama bought it for me.”
Hiding my face in his chest, a loud laugh slipped past my lips. JJ shushed me almost immediately, “People are looking. We can’t have them thinking we’re together.”
I pulled away, trying to keep a straight face at his antics. “We are together.”
“Shit, we are?” He held out his hand, amusement and mischief dancing in his eyes. “My sugar mama can’t find out or she’ll cut me off.”
How could I not love him when he made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt?
I hit his arm with my purse in mock outrage before taking his hand while his other touched my bare back. The feel of his rough calloused hands from all his hard work has me suck in a breath. Those rough hard hands knew my body intimately, inside and out.
“Do that again and I’m finding the nearest bathroom.” JJ leaned down, his lips brushing against the top of my ear.
A clearing of the throat had us both turning our heads. My father stood there with a stoic face, his eyes promising retribution later.
Looking at my father directly in the eye, I place my arm in the crook of his, lacing us together.
“I see you brought a friend.” The last word is spoken with clear disdain.
My grip on JJ’s arm tightened. “I brought my boyfriend.”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
As if they’d actually be home, I thought but decided to keep that to myself.
Deciding that this entire conversation was pointless, I was dragging JJ away from the pair when my father grabbed JJ, whispering something in his ear.
My stomach shrunk and apprehension filled me as the light look of JJ’s face fell, replaced with a flat look and hardened eyes.
“Duly noted, sir.” His mouth curled in a sarcastic snark.
I shot my father a disappointed look. Curling myself into JJ’s side, my arm wrapped around his waist and I tugged us into the party. “Ignore him, please.”
“Already forgotten, princess.”
My eyes watch his face for any sign of distress, but find nothing. Guilt ebbed aways at my walls.
“Let’s go find Mr. Adams. He owns a chain of surf shops. I’m sure if we schmooze him, we can get you a solid job or maybe even a board.” I tossed him a wink that had him grinning.
“I like the way you think. Lead the way, gorgeous.”
Despite his hand on my back, all the warmth we had a mere moments ago was gone. I couldn’t help but notice the small distance he kept between us. One that didn’t exist until my father opened his mouth.
Several hours later, the sun had begun to set and a cool breeze now caressed my bare back. I embraced the cool breeze due to the several glasses of champagne I had.
Despite my love for the warm buzz it gave me, it did little for my bladder. “I’ll be right back.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t leave me here with these people.”
I smothered my laugh with my hand. “Did you want to come with me?”
“To the bathroom? Kinky, I’m in.” JJ responded, clutching my hand in his before expertly pulling us through the crowd.
Nothing could peel off the cheesy smile that bore my face. Despite the slight hiccup at the beginning of the night, JJ charmed most of the members with his charm and humor. I was hoping with some networking, I could help JJ get some security. I believed he was capable of doing just about anything. He had such determination and never let failure keep him down.
JJ knew how to hussle and I wanted everyone to see his potential, even if at times he didn’t see it himself.
My heels clicked along the granite floor, our hands swinging in the air. A shriek escaped my lips as JJ twirls me around, my dress swishing around my ankles. “Gorgeous.” He puffed out his cheeks, his gaze boring into mine.
Our matching grins were nothing short of radiant. Being with him was easy in a world filled with difficult people.
“Well this is disgusting.”
JJ went rigid. That wouldn’t have concerned me if he hadn’t muttered panicked curses under his breath. “If someone says one more thing to me..”
JJ never let Rafe intimidate him before but for some reason JJ seemed a little more hesitant with this exchange. Realization dawned on me. The boat. Fuck.
I let my hands fall while rolling my eyes and turning to face Rafe. There he stood in all his stuck up glory, not a hair out of place and his suit neatly pressed. He looked every bit of a country member as one could possibly be with the light blue suit paired with a white undershirt and blue bow tie, brown dress shoes on his feet.
“Don’t you have another line to snort?” I asked.
Sure, Rafe was conventionally attractive, if you didn’t pay attention to the blown pupils and the constant brush of his nose or the foggy look in his eyes.
JJ snickered beside me, his hand softly tapping my ass twice in support.
“JJ, go get me a drink.” Rafe cocked his head.
“I’m actually a member here now.” JJ responded, his hand caressed my cheek softly.
Shocked painted Rafe’s face. “That’s not poss-”
Kelce and Topper stood beside him, both in colored pressed suits as well. They kind of looked like the-”You powerpuff girls have fun.” JJ said with a crooked smile and a tip of the hat.
He seized me by the wrist and strode over to the exit. Relief at his plan to avoid a fight was fleeting at Rafe’s next words.
“If I knew a trailer home and food stamps was all it took for you to open your legs, I would have tried a long time ago.”
JJ jerked around in seconds, ripping out of my grip. He stalked towards Rafe, drawing his arm back before connecting with his jaw.
A shout passed my lips, my hands covering my mouth in horror as JJ struck Rafe twice more, one blow hitting him directly on the nose. Blood began to gush out of Rafe’s nose, staining his dress shirt a deep crimson. “Say that shit again. Say it.”
Rafe let out a mirthless laugh, his lips pulled at the sides revealing his red stained teeth. “Once a pogue, always a pogue. Isn’t that right, JJ?”
Kelce jumped into action, his arm wrapping around JJ’s neck, pulling him off a Rafe into an effective headlock. That’s when I noticed two more hulking figures and suddenly we were surrounded.
“Five on one, Rafe? Really?” JJ choked out, tugging at Kelce’s arm.
Without thinking, I walked behind Kelce and slammed the metal clasp of the bag against the side of his head. Once. Twice. Three times. “Let go of him!”
Kelce let out a yelp and jerked back, causing his grip on JJ to loosen just enough for him to get free. I went towards him in an instant, but he pushed me behind him as he surveyed the remaining men in front of us.
Whispers dragged my attention from the scene in front of me as I locked eyes with several members who had poked their heads into the locker area. Shit, this really wasn’t good. I needed to get JJ out of here as soon as possible. I didn’t want to give my father any more ammunition against him.
Clutching his arm, I tugged him once more towards the exit. I could hear more activity outside the locker room which had me pulling at him harder. I wasn’t going to let Rafe make him look bad in front of all these influential people. Over my dead body.
“People are coming. We have to go.”
His chest rose and fell with quick breaths, his steele blue gaze not leaving Rafe’s.
“I’m serious. For me, JJ, please?” My final plea seemed to have pulled him out of his angry haze. Without wasting a second, he let me pull him further and further away from the group. Lacing his hand in mine, I made quick work of fixing his suit and his hair, pressing soft kisses as I went.
“Whenever you’re done slumming it, you know where I am.” Rafe called out from behind us, earning us enough leers from fellow members.
He tore his hand from mine. “Fuck this.”
Apprehension coursed through me.
I could feel the storm brewing with each step he took. I trailed behind, my small steps nothing to his long strides. Rafe hit a nerve. One that JJ refused to acknowledge and let fester for months now. It was the elephant in the room any time I offered to pay anything at all. It bothered him, all the money my family had.
“Ignore him, Jayj.” I called out from behind him but his steps never faltered. “Rafe was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”
I could hear the soft melody of the music drifting over the wind from the party that was supposed to fix all our problems. Perhaps I was sticking a bandaid on a gaping wound.
His shoulders were tense as he stopped a couple feet in front of me, shaking his head. Nerves had my stomach in knots. I only had one shot at trying to fix this. Feelings were never JJ’s thing. He spent months fighting our attraction before he finally gave in. Dating a Kook was never something JJ considered.
Unfortunately, it was something others thought as well because they never failed to remind him. My father included.
So here we are. JJ was backed into a corner and like any wounded animal, he had two choices. He could concede or attack and I knew JJ like the back of my hand. He would never give up, so instead he’d go for the throat.
Too bad it was my throat he went for.
“I understand-” I stopped speaking the moment JJ whipped around, his eyes cutting me deeply.
“You don’t.” I didn’t respond. My eyes lingered on his busted lip and bruised chiseled face. “You don’t understand so please don’t try to make me feel better by pretending that you do.”
I pursed my lips. JJ was right, I didn’t understand what it was like to be in his position, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to take away every ounce of pain if it meant he would be happy.
“You’re right. But Jayj, it’s Rafe.” I argued softly, not wanting to draw attention to us. “He always says shit like that to rile you up but you’ve never let it bother you before. Why now?”
JJ’s face flushed. “Because he’s fucking right. That’s why it bothers me.”
My lips wobbled and I pressed them together. I had gone out of my way to ensure he’d never feel this way. I guess I failed.
I moved closer, my steps unsure and clumsy. “You never said anything.”
My hand rested against his chest, and I could feel the familiar pounding of his heart.
“That’s nothing new.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.
That did little to ease the emotional storm brewing within me. Every interaction since he was little was nothing short of violent and negligent.
He wasn’t used to softness and kindness. We were trying to navigate in uncharted waters but we’re thrown off the boat every time the water got choppy.
“We can go. Let’s just go, baby. Let me just say bye to my parents-“
“Stop.” He demanded, his tone serve. So unlike JJ.
I dropped my hand and instead chose to focus on the sound of our breathing. I had to keep my head on straight, because I could tell he was already building up his wall so high, making his fortress impenetrable.
JJ had never had a consistent thing in his life and I’ll be damned if I let that happen to us.
Squaring my shoulders back, I faced his heated gaze head on. If he wanted an argument, he’d get one, but we’d both be leaving together.
I had no intention of going anywhere.
“Stop?” I echoed, raising my brow.
His eyes were as cold and hard as obsidian. “Yes, stop. How is leaving going to solve any of this?”
“You’re picking a fight with me for no reason. I’m not the one you’re mad at.”
JJ raked his fingers through the sun bleached golden strands causing them to fall along his forehead. “Maybe I am.”
My eyes widened at his words. What had I done? He’d shared every bit of his world with me and I only wanted to do the same.
Was that not what people do when they’re in love? Aren’t you supposed to share your interests with your partner and aren’t they supposed to want to know them?
“For what?”
He tugged at his shirt collar. “Why am I here?”
My brows furrowed in confusion. Why would he even ask that?
“Why am I here, at this Midsummer's bullshit?”
“Because I wanted you to be.” I smoothed out my hair to give my trembling hands something to do. “It’s something that matters to me, it’s not bullshit.”
I had spent months planning this party since my parents were on the board. I wanted everything to be perfect for them and for him. It all seemed silly now. A part of that stung deep in my soul. Bullshit was never a word I used to describe any of the interests he showed me, yet he so easily spouted it at me.
JJ stayed quiet but continued to fidget with the silver ring on his finger. I wanted to close the distance between us but didn’t know how.
“Don’t let Rafe of all people ruin this. His opinion means nothing.”
He lifted his chin. “It matters to your dad.”
I barely held back my wince. “He doesn’t get a say in who I date, JJ.”
“Oh, are we lying to each other now?”
“W-What do you mean?”
“Are we going to pretend that you don’t care about what your parents think?”
I took a step back as though he hit me. “Stop talking before you say something you’ll regret.”
“Everything you do is to get their attention. You’d die without their approval.”
In a manner of speaking, he was right. My parents barely paid me an ounce of attention and it was hard not to think it had to do with me. There must have been something wrong with me for my parents to not want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my life trying to live up to their expectations hoping to be the daughter they always wanted, but nothing worked. I couldn’t get them to love me.
And he threw it all in my face.
I stared at him with tears in my eyes, hurt and stricken.
At the sight of my tears, he looked away with his jaw clenched.
“Why are you with me?” He hissed, holding out his arms. “It’s not like I can take you to dinner in Paris or buy you the clothes you like so much.”
Insecurity was a cruel thing. It had the power to turn someone as confident and sure as JJ into a puddle of irate nerves. And as his insecurity continued to dig its hooks further into his skin, he continued to rip into me, piece by piece.
“Because I love you. Because you make me laugh.” My voice raised, my hands clenched into fists by my sides. “Where is this coming from?”
Anxiety wound its way up my throat clocking off my air.
“You’re fucking shoes are four grand. Do you know what I could do with four grand? I could get the power turned on in my house, or better yet, pay for the house.” The look he shot me had me wanting to be six feet under. He’d never looked at me like that before. He made me sound vapid and superficial. Like I didn’t spend most of my time on his side of the island.
The guilt I felt early came back tenfold. Guilt for my position. Guilt for the money my family had. Guilt for the things I enjoyed buying, both for him and myself.
Maybe I was just as bad as Rafe.
Pain sliced my chest as his gaze continued to penetrate me like bullets.
“The other side of the island is starving and everyone here is drinking champagne and gambling a mortgage for fun. It’s disgusting.” JJ began to pace, shaking his head in disbelief. “You had me kissing ass to all these people, and for what? A job? Stop trying to turn me into something that I’m not.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist. “That wasn’t what I was doing. I was trying to open doors for you so you had options. All I wanted was to help give you a fighting chance.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.” The words continued to pelt at me, hitting my heart every time. The pressure in my chest only tightened further.
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the person you love?” My voice shook, matching the trembling of my body. “It never mattered before.”
I'd never been in love before him. I didn't have anything to compare it too since the most affection I get from my parents is a card on my birthday. I thought by doing everything they didn't do for me, supporting and comforting and physical touch, would somehow translate into love.
“Of course it mattered. You’re a fucking Kook.” The raw and angry words seeped into my veins, the audible crack of my heart echoing for all to hear.
My throat constricted. Enough, I couldn’t hear anymore. No, no, no. But JJ seemed to have other plans.
“I mean, I’m standing here in a custom Tom Ford whatever that could have fed me for months. I’m out of my element and it makes my skin fucking crawl. John B is getting sent to CPS and Pope is getting jumped and I’m here at some stupid dinner with the people that did it to him. What does that make me?”
My chest cracked open and my heart caved in. I finally saw the broken boy in front of me. Bruised and broken, completely uncomfortable and unsure of himself.
“Kiara’s a kook.”
“Kiara’s different and you know that.” It remained unsaid but I knew what he was referring to. Kie was a hippie rich chick who didn’t enjoy all the things I did: designer clothes, luxury dinners, expensive food. In other words, I was a self absorbed kook princess that didn’t care for those around me.
It didn’t matter that I spent most of the summer with JJ helping him fix homes in the cut. It didn’t matter that I donated to charities or helped send care kits to those on the cut after the hurricane. It didn’t matter that I spent almost all my free time with him and the pogues just as Kiara did.
To him, I represented everything he hated. It didn’t matter that I loved him so deeply I defied my parents. It didn’t matter that I upended my life and chose to be with him. He could never see past the money, something I had no control over.
I may have been standing in custom Christian Dior and Jimmy Choo, but I’ve never felt more cheap as JJ continued to cut me down with each word.
“Do you want me to apologize?” My pulse spiked as a burst of adrenaline had me spouting the truth. “I had just as much a choice of being born on figure eight than you did on the cut.”
He looked at me like he hated me. “I don’t know how we deluded ourselves into thinking this could ever work.”
“You don’t get to stand there and make me feel guilty for who I am. Just because I have money and like nice things, doesn’t make me an asshole. I’ve treated everyone in my life with kindness. Don't group me with them.”
JJ scoffs, pointing at the crowd on the dance floor. “Them? Them--means your parents, baby”.
“I’ve never treated you less than me.” It was a last ditch effort.
“At least I know what Kook pussy tastes like.” He went for the kill. “Money and daddy issues.”
I stilled. The world stilled. Vicious hurt curled its way into my soul, etching every bit of it until I no longer existed.
Like I said before, I had no intention of going anywhere. But, I guess to JJ, he always had one foot out the door.
I think I stopped breathing. I blinked at him, hoping cameras would pop out and the whole thing came out as a prank. But, no cameras appeared.
Just him and I stood, in a field, an arms length apart but a universe away.
“You don’t mean that.” The words came out strangled. “Take it back.”
He said nothing. I had to bring a fist to my mouth to try and block out the harsh sob that threatened to escape.
“JJ, please.” I begged, my hands catching his arm. “Let’s just go.”
His normal vibrant eyes regard me coldly, a muscle jumping his jaw. I was drowning in my emotions. Everything had escalated to a level I couldn’t fix, because he wouldn’t let me. The bathroom seemed forever ago in the scheme of things. I can see the battle in his eyes of whether to give into his self destructive behavior or to come back to me.
Any hope I had of him coming back to me dissolved in a matter of seconds. A security guard came up behind him, gripping JJ by the forearm and tugging us towards the front of the party. My eyes widened in horror as I realized they were going to parade him around in front of everyone which would just humiliate him more.
“Jeez Daryl, could you loosen up your grip,” JJ complained, attempting to jerk out of the large man’s grip. He didn’t so much as flinch at each of JJ’s gripes either.
"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, "Let him go, Darryl."
Darryl shook his head and gave me an apologetic look. "No can do. Mr. Cameron complained."
JJ Scoffed. “I can let myself out. I have two legs.”
“JJ, please stop.”
“I appreciate the discretion, Daryl.”
He self-destructed right in front of me. JJ grabbed a drink off an unsuspecting member and chugged it down before tossing the glass on the floor.
In the end, JJ was always going to be JJ. I saw the moment he decided to destroy everything we had. It was a slight shift in his body and that penetrating gaze of his hardened into a cruel amusement. JJ shrugged my hand off his, before his eyes flitter across the crowd as though he's looking for someone. Then I watched as they landed on a familiar brunette.
“Hey, let him go. I’m a member of this club and I invited him.” Kie shouted at Darryl who paused for a brief moment. I could see her parents trying to discreetly get her to stop but Kiara refused. At the sound of her words, an appreciative grin tugged at JJ’s lips.
It didn’t matter that I had said the same thing hours ago. It didn’t matter that I not only defended him but made him a member. I liked shiny flashy things and she didn’t. Apparently, that made her better than me.
“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” He shouted, pointing at where she stood in front of her parent’s. “Pope, you as well, alright?”
I had a disposition for loving people too much, no matter how they treated me. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that I wasn’t presentable. I didn’t care that tears were falling down my face or that my hair was a mess. I didn’t want to be left behind. He promised.
“Let me come-”
Exasperation filled his features. "Take a fucking hint. You can go be with someone like Rafe now. You two deserve each other."
“Alright, Kie c’mon.” He didn’t spare me a second glance. I had to watch as Kie took off running towards him with Pope in tow. JJ held out his arms to catch her, arms she happily jumped into. John B lets out a humored shout while JJ spins Kiara around and they take off.
Leaving me all by myself. My parents nowhere in sight.
And suddenly everything hit me at once. My dress was too tight, my heels were pinching at the skin on my feet, the music was too loud, my hair was a mess. Nothing I did was right. Once again, I was left alone. Abandoned by the one person I thought would never leave. All because I loved him too much and he hated everything I couldn’t control.
I stood there, feeling like a silly little girl in a silly little dress I spent hours looking for, urging him to look back. He never did.
Authors note: I hope I hurt your feelings because I hurt my own writing this :) pls let me know what u think!!! I love hearing from you guys
Tagging my favs: @maybankslover @sipsthecoffee @alyisdead
Summery: John B was always your dad’s favorite. You always assumed it was because he blamed your mother leaving on you. Though he never outwardly neglected you, you always seemed to live in your older brother’s shadow. To everyone except one.
I remembered it from a young age, as early as seven, the way they all shunned me. My mother had been long gone, and my tired brain hadn’t held a single warm memory of her other than one.
We were at the chateau, as my dad called it, sitting on the old porch. Only, it wasn’t old then, it was new, and without the cigarette buds littering the once vibrant oak. There was an old wicker chair in the corner, pushed where the dusty couch now lay. It rocked slightly, not because it was meant to, but because it was broken. The distant memory of mumbled yelling and crashing from outside. Arguments that kept me and John B hidden under his covers until daylight broke. I loved that chair.
When I was young, my mom used to hold me in that chair. She never thought I was too old to be held, to be doted on by my mother. I still called her “mama” in my toddler years, pawing at the ends of her hair and the old fabric of her shirt. She sang soft melodies to me, songs I had never committed to memory, but songs I found in the simple things I enjoy now.
Popes dad says I had her eyes, and John B once told me that our dad thought I had her laugh. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like me, he tells me he loves me, but he doesn’t like me.
Right before she left, I had been padding along the grain of the wood floors, my blanket dragging between my legs and my dad’s shirt were my makeshift pajamas hanging down to my ankles. A storm, ones we got often in the summertime as the air became warmer and pushed out the cold, had broken down a few large branches in the yard, and in an effort to find comfort, I ran to my mama.
“You favor that girl over our son!” My dad shouted, his voice thick with a simmering anger I had never heard before. I swore even then I could feel it through the walls.
“How dare you! They are my babies! I love those kids more than anything I have ever loved, and I love them just the same!” My mama argued, but her voice was softer, more conscious of her young ones who she believed were tucked into bed just a few feet away.
“I should have known you would have been this way. You haven’t seen them the same since they were born.” My mama added softly, her words bitter and heavy with an unspoken truth.
There was a heavy silence, and then, a crack. I wasn’t sure what it was, the sound of rings hitting skin and the soft clanking of another hitting the ground. I ran quietly, light on my feet as soon as the collision happened, crawling over to John B’s bed and pulling the sheets up to my chin. He didn’t even stir, so used to the feeling of my legs curling against his, expecting to wake up nose to nose when the sun would shine through his thin curtains. The arguments happened so often, it became rare that he wouldn’t wake up with me tucked into bed beside him, a nervous wreck and furrowed brows.
That was the last time I saw my mother, or heard her voice. I hadn’t known it then, but the way my father seemed distant that morning told me it was more than one of the usual fights. She wouldn’t be walking through that door again in a few days like she sometimes would, and she would never sing to me again.
I remember laying out across that old chair, pulling my small knees to my chest. Her perfume lingered on the cushion tied around the back, and her voice was carried over the breeze. She wasn’t coming back, and the pain in my father’s eyes and the churning of his stomach told me that much.
A few days later, dad called my brother and I into the living room to tell us how mama had skipped town, set off for a better life. I could tell they both blamed her, bother hated her secretly for it almost instantly, and being so young and impressionable, I nearly agreed, I nearly believed it. But I saw the way my father spoke to her and the way he had the ability to make her snap back. She deserved that life my father said she was chasing, even if deep down I knew it was a lie.
I never told my brother that dad was lying, though sometimes I did whisper it in his sleep like a prayer, like my truth would reach his dreams and taint his false sense into seeing whats real. But even as a little kid I wasn’t innocent enough to blabber on about how horrible our last living parent was. Especially not when our dad was to John B as what our mother was to me.
The chair was gone soon after, and my dad refused to tell me where he’d thrown it. At first I thought he had broken it, but he was a sensible man at times, and the extra cash lying around the kitchen told me he had sold it, and he had killed her memory too.
Years later, with barely any recollection of who she was, and lacking the foundations of which she should have built for me, sometimes I found myself curled up in that corner, my knees pulled to my chest tightly in the same ball I wound myself in all those years ago, and sometimes I found myself still calling out for her, like if she had heard how much I still needed her, she would sing for me one last time.
But I am much older now, and it has dawned on me repeatedly like some sick prayer that I am too old to be held, to be shown the affection of a mother and her infant, and I have been since the day she left.
Early mornings and stained glass windows, not from paints, but mold. Old rotten wood and dusty broken furniture. A safe haven to call home, a quiet room on the heart of the cut. My brother and I often pulled out patches of grass in the backyard, and sometimes we’d sit together on the hammock, see how high we could swing and loop our fingers around the rope to hold on.
Dad would sit inside, sometimes by the kitchen window where he could look out and watch over us, but he mainly spent his time inside of his office, which had at one point, been moms bedroom.
He used to leaning over the dirty counters, feeling the sun on his skin, letting the gentle breeze cool the back of his neck. But dad loved a lot of things, and unlike mom, he lacked a discreet touch about those things.
I guess it could be traced back to when my brother and I had just turned eight. A week after the party had rolled over, and glasses kept piling up around the house, sticky and stained a faint brown from his favorite cheap whiskey. Sometimes I tried to clean them up, and I would place them in the sink, but the colors never faded, not even after my small palms would bleed and callous.
Once, John B asked me what I was doing. He had been playing outside with Pope and JJ, and JJ had been screaming for me to come outside and be his partner in ‘signs’, our favorite childhood card game. Though, JJ and I often lost because we too, lacked the ability to be discreet in any situation.
I told him I’d be out soon, I was just doing the dishes and I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face. The usually happy, calm man looked down at his feet with something I’ve later identified embarrassment. I never blamed dad for drinking. I figured if mom leaving was still hard on me after all this time, it must have been hard for him too.
He began using his coffee mug after that. The dark liquid less shameful in a cup that gave him the ability to not only disguise his problem, but to commit it at any time of day, because John B was too oblivious to notice, and I was too naive to believe he would.
“Bird.” Dad called for John B in the backyard, not caring how Pope and I were arguing nonsensical things over each other, waving our arms and pointing fingers. JJ happily mediated, laughing at our schoolyard taunts and remarks, encouraging us to snap back, though we all knew our words were nothing more than that, and we all loved each other a great deal too much to mean any of it.
If I hadn’t been so caught up in my own thoughts, maybe I would’ve seen the way dad was swaying. The way his knuckles were white around the frame of the door. His glasses were crooked, and his breath rotten with substances. But I didn’t notice, and so little John B happily walked towards our father with open arms.
Dad hugged him. He hugged his son and held back his tears like it was the most beautiful moment he could ever dream of. He held John B like he was precious, and not to deny that he wasn’t, to me my brother was worth more than anything in the world, but to my dad, it was something more than that, and to me, it felt that way too.
Because dad never held me, his daughter, who cleaned his dishes, and covered his tracks, and lied, and stole, and cried out for him, for some peace. He never hugged me like that. Because he blamed me.
He blamed me for my mother leaving because unlike my mother, he could never love my brother and I the same. He couldn’t love two of something if he barely wanted one. He never hit me, but he was cold, calculated, cruel when he wanted to be.
That day, at just eight years old, I sat in the grass with dirt under my nails and heavy breaths wondering would it would be like to feel the warmth of my father. Would it solve all my problems or only tear me apart further.
Because maybe if I continued to never feel the embrace of the man who gave me life, it would be easier to disassociate and pretend that it didn’t hurt. Maybe it would be easier to not like him anymore, and the unbearable guilt I carried even as an eight year old, would go away finally.
I didn’t even realize that I wasn’t fighting Pope anymore, or how my gaze had drifted over to watch how tenderly my dad held onto my brother, because I couldn’t even feel the way tears burned into my skin in slow droplets that fell into my lap.
JJ hugged me then, and it felt special, I felt special, because I knew even at that age that affection was a rarity in my life, and JJ, as much as I knew he loved me, was not a physical person. Still, he held me from behind while Pope spewed out apologies, swearing on everything he believed that he hadn’t meant a word. I could tell that he too, felt confused because we had gone after each other multiple times and never had I broken down.
In that moment it felt like I had gained something more than a hug from my father, but a silent acceptance with my best friends. Because soon, even Pope shut up and looked to where JJ’s eyes were glued, and even as flustered as he had been, everyone who sat in the dirt that day understood that no words that were thrown around had ever hurt me, nor did they even reach me, because what had made me so inconsolable was the fact that my happy brother received all the praise while I laid out in the lawn, crying until I dry heaved, ignored by someone who I only ever wanted love from.
“It’s gonna be alright, Y/n/n.” JJ mumbled quietly into my ear, and for the first time, I didn’t believe a word he said.
“Dad, dad stop.” I defended myself for the first time when I was thirteen. I was only half his height and he was triple my age. I thought that somehow, if I stopped enabling his behavior, he would get better. He would see how much I cared and he would finally love me.
That was the first time dad yelled at me, really yelled at me.
My dad refused to lay a hand on me, so when my friends ask if I was ever abused, I tell them no because it feels laughable to compare my psychological trauma to the welts on their ribs when they barely escape home.
When JJ asks me whats wrong, why my eyes look so puffy in the afternoon, after I stumble out of the house in the same clothes as the night before, I tell him I didn’t get enough sleep, because how do you tell your best friend who has been climbing through my bedroom window since we were nine that my dad hurts me too, you just can’t see it.
Dad called me a liar and a psychopath when I told him he was hurting me. He told me that it wasn’t true because he loved my brother and I and he would never lay a hand on either of us, not then and not ever. Dad says that he deserves respect, that I’m only a kid and he’s the adult so I better start acting like it. He tells me that it’s like a switch went off in my head ever since I became a teenager and all of a sudden I can’t stand him. But that’s not true.
The truth was even at such a young age, I always knew I would lay my life on the line for my dad. He meant more to me than I could ever express, because to me, he was the man who hadn’t left, even when he was given all the right reasons to bail out. So, for years I tried to cover for him, clean up and take care of everyone to show him what I could never articulate into a phrase of my affection. Still, he preferred John B’s half hearted sentiment over anything I could give him.
I wished so deeply that I was born different, that I wasn’t me. Because maybe if I wasn’t the clone of my mother, maybe then my father would like me more.
I guess the worst part of it all is that I can never be sure if my father’s anger could have been my mother’s, only given to him in her absence. Would his hands have been hers as I grew older? Would her hugs turn into the white knuckles wrapped around my throat? And would her songs become the vile words my father threw at me in drunken rage?
Maybe if I kept hiding behind the cruelties of his excuses for the way I cowered around him, then John B wouldn’t have to live in the same sense of shock I have been stuck in for a decade.
Dad never laid a hand on me, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to touch me to kick me in the stomach, all he had to do was show me how he was capable of being a loving father, but never put me on the receiving end.
He found time for John B, even as he buried himself in his work, searching for some gold that seemed far away and unimportant. He locked himself away while I slid food under the door, and I watched as he kissed my brother’s forehead and bid him goodnight, leaving me to sleep on the couch.
Even as a thirteen year old girl, an age so tender and impressionable, I felt so much more mature than I should have. I felt the effects of neglect I couldn’t wish on anyone. In my self pity, even after he gave me every reason to turn on him, I couldn’t hate him, so I began to hate myself.
“Dad, when was the first time you felt love?” John B asked one night. For the first time in a long time, we were all lying in the living room. My brother hung over my dad’s lap and my head resting on the floor as I sank off of the old dusty beanbag.
Dad thought carefully, his large hands splayed out against my brother’s small back.
“The day you were born.” He answered thoughtfully, and I watched as my brother’s eyes lit up.
I had every right to scream, to beg for an answer because the little girl trapped inside of me didn’t deserve this kind of pain from her own blood. But I didn’t. I sniffled and sat up, storming out of the house that I wasn’t even sure I could call home. How foolish I felt for ever believing my dad would ever love us the same. How stupid I felt for thinking that my brother, who inherited our fathers name, would never be preferred over my mother’s child.
“Y/n Routledge, get back inside now!” Dad yelled, storming down the porch to catch me. But I had become good at slipping away, and neglectful parents raise angry children.
“Go to hell!” It was the first time I swore at my dad. Even I shocked myself, because it had never occurred to me that I could do that.
“Why do you have to ruin everything?” He asked me, and it made me want to laugh because when had I ever done anything to him that wasn’t in good faith? “Just like your mama! Storming off!” My dad cursed under his breath, not really bothering to chase after me. How easy would it have been for me to have ran away.
I could live under a tree, a big willow with drooping leaves and heavy branches. I could make friends with the squirrels and be a good mother to them, the mother I never had, but always dreamed of.
“My mama was a good woman!” I cried out, suddenly overwhelmed with my freshly made emotions, ones that felt too strong for a new teenage girl.
“You know nothing about her! She left, I’m the one who stayed!” Dad yelled, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious.
I did something I had never done before. In all of my life, not once had I ever blamed my dad for my mom leaving. Not even after I heard their fights from when I was no taller than the notches in the doorframes, and not after he began to spend his paychecks on alcohol instead of new shoes for John B and I. I never blamed him because he always blamed me, and if it made me feel so worthless, then how could I ever do that to him?
“I don’t blame her!” I fought back, tears burning my eyes almost as hard as the back of my throat stung. “And I don’t blame you.”
I couldn’t stay mad at dad for more than a few minutes. I couldn’t blame him, and I couldn’t lie and say I did when I didn’t. Dad didn’t say anything then, so I turned on my heels in the dirt and I stormed off.
That night, I knocked on JJ’s window. I was wearing an old Star Wars t-shirt that he once called nerdy and my rainbow pajama pants. I looked thirteen going on seven, my cupcake slippers caked in mud.
But JJ didn’t pull on my braids like my brother did when we fought, and he didn’t poke fun at my pants. He opened his window and leaned out, his messy blond hair and tired eyes adjusting to admire my face.
“Y/n/n? What happened? Why are you here?” He asked, and I could tell he sounded a little on edge. His dad used to be discreet about how he dealt with JJ, but after middle school had began, he stopped caring as JJ stuck around the same kids he grew up with. So, I stayed as quiet as possible, not wanting any trouble.
“I just missed you.” A lie. The first of many lies I would spew out to my best friend because I felt too awkward to confess my own feelings and burden him when he had it so much worse.
“Oh.” His face lit up slightly, and I could tell my words made him feel nice. “C’mon, I’ll help you in. Wouldn’t wanna lose a slipper.” He teased with a toothy grin, a smart ass from birth.
I playfully smacked his shoulder, holding my breath until my feet hit his dirty floors. He held onto my arms longer than he had to, and I wondered if he could feel my body shaking.
“Don’t make fun, okay? I like my slippers.” I smiled, blinking away the old tears that I cried on the way over, and pawing at the scrapes from the bushes I cut through to get to his house quicker.
“I would never!” He defended softly, his arms raised in a scouts honor. “Cross my heart, cupcake.”
Sometimes I wished that JJ and I were older, I thought about it often. It kept me awake after long fights with dad, that I would one day save up all the money I could scrape together and take JJ with me. We’d go around the globe, just me, him, and open ocean surrounding us, and only the scars on our skin and in our heads to remind us of the past. But we wouldn’t care, because we would be there for each other, and the ocean would wash away the evil men on the shore.
“I wish I had a more appreciative daughter!” Dad yelled at me as he packed up his things in a hurry, chasing yet another lead on his quest for the gold, a passion driven by his valiant greed.
It hurt, but it would have hurt me a lot more three years ago. At sixteen, his words meant nothing to me, because at sixteen, I had finally come to terms with the fact that my dad simply did not like me, and that was okay.
So instead of sitting in self pity, or swallowing myself whole in a another bottomless spiral of self hatred and depression, I finally found the spark that was burning so fiercely somewhere deep inside of me.
“Fuck you!” The second time I swore at dad. “Fuck you and all your promises to get better!” I stepped forward, crossing into his office, which I swore to never go in, not only because it reeked of him, but because it was only a reminder of how quickly he let mom go, and how quickly he shifted the blame onto me, an innocent infant with no real chance to do anything to anyone.
“Fuck me? Oh, fuck me? Your father? I have done everything for you! I have given you the chances my own parents couldn’t give me and you are so ungrateful! I pray for a day you wake up and see the damage you cause around here!” Dad spat, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck all your pride and fuck all your prayers!” I stepped closed again, and my knuckles pawed at his shirt desperately, my eyes looking up at my father, who stood ten times taller than me, or so it felt that way. “All this time I waited like a fool, because you’re my dad. Above anything else, before the treasure and before the alcoholic, you’re supposed to be my dad!”
“Are you drunk?” He asked. I wasn’t, but I might as well have been with how quickly my mind passed through emotions.
Here he was standing in front of me, and here I was already done processing all my grief. He wasn’t dead, I could feel each breath under the palms of my hands, yet for years it felt like walking next to a ghost with how absent and withdrawn he always was from my life.
“All I ever wanted was a father.” I told him softly. “Was that too much to ask?” I deserved to know, but I should have known better.
My dad was an asshole, and he always would be. It was in his fashion that he would brush right past me, unfeeling and lacking empathy for his own daughter.
I felt angry. Before, I felt betrayed, sad, even embarrassed by him, and by how easily I let him get away with all his faults simply because he was my father and if my brother loved him, then there had to be some good in him. But there wasn’t.
Here he was, walking out of my life, the keys to the car that I paid for in his hands, dangling just as carelessly as he was with my life. I don’t know why that set me off, but it had. I heard my feet slap against the floors before I felt myself moving.
“Give back my damn keys!” I caught up behind him, snatching the carabiner from his dirty knuckles and pushing him into the wall. He wouldn’t hit, but god, had he made me wish I could. “I paid off that loan it’s under my name!” I stuffed the clasp into my back pocket tightly.
“You wanna leave, thats fine. But you’re walking out of my life if you’re going!” I breathed out heavily, the frames on the wall rocking back and forth from the force he hit the wood with.
“What is wrong with you? Where’s my sweet little girl I used to love?” My knuckles loosened on his shirt again, but my elbows remained pressed into his stomach.
“Loved? Like you ever loved me. You couldn’t have, because you wouldn’t have taken it out on me. You wouldn’t have gotten rid of her existence in spite of me. You wouldn’t have tossed that damn chair, and you wouldn’t have burned the things she kept for me!” I wanted to cry, but more than that, I wanted him so see how exhausted I felt.
“All I wanted was a fucking father, John.”
“And you got one, and look at you, you’re a strong young woman now!” He laughed bitterly, fighting against my shaky hold. He could barely look at me. I wondered if he was asked, could he even tell a friend the color of my eyes? If I were to wash up on the shore, could he even report the body? Would my grave lay empty simply because he hadn’t known me for years, and he never would.
“I was a little girl! I was a little girl, and I still am! I’m sixteen, dad! Stop treating me like some type of problem when I’ve been nothing but great to you!” I cried this time, pushing him harder until the wood splintered and my arms gave out. We both stumbled away from each other.
“All I ever wanted was a father, but for the first time, finally I can see you are the leader of the landslide.” I scoffed pathetically, staring him down with a broken heart.
I deserved to smash all the plates in the house, to rip off all the wallpaper and spray paint the rotting white paint bright blue just in spite of my father. But even though he wasn’t kind to me, I couldn’t ignore how good of a dad he had been to John B, and more than anything I ever held close to me, I loved my brother dearly. I wiped my tears and let dad walk out on me. Neither of us said a word.
He clapped John B over the back when he got outside, promising to return soon, this time with the promise of an unpromising fortune. He swore that he loved my brother more than anything, called him by the nickname he earned long ago, and left without saying another word.
I watched wordlessly from the front steps.
We lost the gold. Once or twice. The gold we had found first was a slap to the face, but having the cross stolen right out from under us felt so much worse, especially with Pope being tied into it on such a deeper level.
We all sat around the first now, our bodies tucked close together like a perfectly woven blanket, arms tangled around each other and weak laughter echoing around the smokey fire. We didn’t have much left to fight for, but to me, I felt deeply that in a more important way, we had gotten the gold, and we had been filthy rich all along.
The gold we’d found couldn’t be measured on a scale and dealt between the seven of us evenly, but unmeasurable and sought after by anyone who understood. Because in the end, we still had each other, and to me, this was family.
JJ’s blonde hair tickled the top of my forehead. We sat close together on the low swinging hammock in the backyard. His arms wrapped around me tightly, and my legs thrown over his lap carelessly. We talked quietly with Kiara about the little things. We found alternatives to seek out her dreams of preserving the ecosystem and to swim with the turtles.
It all felt so real, so domestic for a group of friends who were always running from something. It felt like the first time in a while I had time to stop and catch my breath.
“What are you thinking about, cupcake?” The nickname rolled nicely off the tongue, his crooked smile endearing to me, and his eyes sweeter than any doe I’d ever encountered.
I sighed contently, cuddling closer to the boy and soaking up his warmth greedily. Though we both never said it would loud, it always felt nice to share close proximity with someone we trusted so deeply. To feel affection for someone when we had grown up scarcely to it.
Dad had been dead for nearly two years now, and the truth was, I wasn’t sixteen anymore. I wasn’t the sad little thirteen year old who hated herself more than anyone else, who climbed through the blondes window at midnight in her muddy slippers, and I wasn’t the timid toddler who could barely walk without tripping on her blanket she dragged around everywhere for a pathetic kind of comfort.
John B took it hard at first. I wanted so desperately to tell him everything. He was my older brother after all, but most days now I felt like it was my job to look out for him. It always had been. He was my brother and I would never have let him suffer, but sometimes it was hard not to wish for once I could selfishly struggle openly and degrade the man he saw as his hero.
It would be wrong for me to taint that image of a dead man, a man I still believed John B was openly grieving, even if he said he was okay now. You are never okay after losing someone like that, no matter how evil, and I think he forgets that he was still my father, even if he never saw us in the same context as he saw him.
“Thinking about how comfortable you are.” I mumbled, stretching my limbs out tiredly along his tanned skin. I laid like a lap dog on his chest, my head tucked under his chin and my hands playing with the rough fabric of his dirty t-shirt.
“Not about John B?” He prodded quietly. JJ always knew when the wheels in my head were turning, just like I could always tell when something was wrong. It was like our super powers, to know each other so well we couldn’t hide anything.
“He’ll come back, he wouldn’t leave you.” He assured softly, his fingers dancing gently along my curved spine. It felt like oddly in times like these, the calm after the storms, that it truly would always be just JJ and I against the world. Like we were the only two people who truly understood each other, through the laughter and under the deepest scars littering our skin.
“I know. He’s my brother, he wouldn’t do that.” I agreed, and just as I was about to let the serenity of the lazy swinging of the hammock lull me into a sleepy haze, the crunching of boots on leaves alerted me elsewhere.
There he stood, his clothes still grimy from the tropical heat and wet mud from Barbados. His hair was stuck to his forehead in the same curl pattern from a few days ago, but the deep rooted brunette seemed to become a shade of dirty blonde from all the harsh sun. His skin was tanned and covered in sweat, but he was still my brother, and he had finally come home.
I sat up quickly from JJ’s arms, pushing off of his chest with so much force, I felt him bend at the waist and let out a puff of air. I shouted an apology before wrapping my brother in a bone crushing hug, relief filling my stomach and the unease dispersing finally.
“Where have you been!” I pushed him away with a smile, I didn’t even notice the seriousness in his gaze as he called out for me softly.
“Are you crazy? Staying behind like that in a foreign country?” I laughed breathlessly, my eyes searching his face and settling on his lack of a smile.
“Y/n/n.” He called out again softly.
“What? Whats wrong?” I breathed out, my smile fading slightly into a dimmer smirk, confidence slipping from my face into a deep furrow between my brows.
“John B, what happened? Did someone hurt you…d-did-“ My happy touch became a panicked grip on his clothes, my knuckles white and face pale as I searched for answers.
“Y/n.” He cooed calmly, the ease between his eyes and brows calming the pace of my breath. “I found him.” He said with a soft smile.
“What?” I breathed out. “Who?”
I racked my brain for answers, mulling over every possible explanation for what could have made me stay behind, leave behind all the good that had surrounded him for the past few years, and the good that would continue to grow with him.
“Don’t tell me you forgot your own dad?” An old voice called out from behind the brush, long greasy hair and an un-groomed bears covering a good portion of his old face. From his glasses alone I could see who it was, never mind the voice that often haunted me even in my sleep, the ghostly presence that lingered even as I slept on my own.
He was a poltergeist haunting my life, torturing my soul until I bled out completely blue. Had the punishment of forcing a child to clean up his mess for over a decade not been enough karma for all the bad I hadn’t done yet? Would I forever be stuck in the broken glass of his aftermath? How much longer would I have to hide behind the shell of who I once was just to please those who don’t yet know about who I am, of who I could have become?
I decided then I couldn’t do it, and I let go of my brother, and I let go of my pride.
“No.” I spoke softly, looking between the boys. John B looked more and more like dad every day.
I watched my brother’s face crumble in confusion, my heels dragging against the dirt, I backed away like a scared dog, no longer the eager retriever with a bird at the door. My tail was between my legs.
“Y/n/n, it’s dad!” John B gestured like it would click for me, but that was not my father. Maybe by blood, but he would never be more than that to me, just evidence that linked me back to John B.
“No, I-I can’t.” I tried to explain through staggering breaths, choking out my words like tranquilized venom.
“I know it’s a lot, but everything’s going to be the way it was.”
My back hit JJ’s chest, and for the first time in the last few seconds, the ringing that blocked out my brothers bargaining seemed to fall deaf on my ears, and all I could hear was the sound of my heart beat dying in my chest.
“No, you don’t get it.” I cried out, though my eyes felt dry. “You don’t get it and you never will!” I begged silently for him to see the way the spark seemed to die as soon as dad came back, the way that my shoulders slumped and the confident young woman I had become faded back into the teenage daughter who wished for nothing more than to run far away from here.
“Y/n, come on, don’t be like this.” Dad tried to reason, like it was his say to decide how I would handle his return, like he could decide when I stopped feeling the effects of his abuse, because that was a word I had learned to call it, because that is what it was. Abuse.
“How dare you!” I shouted, anger making my skin hot. I felt queasy, like the world was crashing down on me, betrayal hot on my face. He didn’t know, my brother didn’t know because I protected him from it.
Couldn’t he ever notice how much happier I seemed after dad left? How I finally started living for the moments between us instead of for the times when I could go to sleep, where I could quietly call out for our mother who I didn’t know.
JJ knew, of course he knew. He knew by the time dad left. I’d confessed it all in a drunken ramble in the backyard after he commented on how happy I seemed, and though I laughed when I told him, neither of us found it funny. He apologized for making me feel like my problems were minuscule compared to his, but I assured him it was my own self doubt, and never his own actions. Neglectful parents raise insecure kids.
So if my best friend had known, if he could see just how happy I was without the burden of my father’s blame, how could my other half not see it? My own DNA? It led me to believe he was neglectful of me in his own ways, pushing aside the obvious signs of my own struggle just for his own benefit, for the gain of a relationship with the father that severed ours long ago.
“How dare you come back here after all the shit you put me through!” I cried, and I hit him. I hit him in the chest and I watched as he kept his ground, his shoes not even sliding against the mud. I had grown weaker without his constant fighting, and it showed in just how quickly the flame flickered out.
“How dare you come back and expect me to just be okay with it when all you’ve given me is years of therapy that I can’t afford!” I hit him in the jaw, and this time, I felt a pair of arms pull me away, my hot tears burning their tan skin. I kicked and I screamed, and my brother dragged me off until I couldn’t reach him anymore.
“You’re a piece of shit! I owe you nothing!” I pointed at him, staring him down as he rubbed the quickly blossoming bruise on his skin, his beard covering the welt almost entirely. The mark didn’t make me feel better at all, and instead, I only felt more pathetic.
“I gave you everything!” My limbs fell limp, all fight leaving my body as my tired joints ached, my head falling onto JJ’s shoulder. The boys passed me off like some kind of child, and looking at the man who tormented me my entire youth, I felt just like the timid child once again, like all my growth meant nothing.
The bright moon was replaced with the yellow glow of the kitchen lights, clouds traded in for floral curtains that hung crooked over the windows, and the cool grass fading into hard wood beneath my feet.
“Y/n, hey…” JJ cooed, his hands brushing against my shoulders.
“I just…fuck…I couldn’t do it. I don’t know why I hit him, I don’t know, I just-“
“Y/n, cupcake, hey, baby,” he called for me again, a plethora of nicknames tumbling from his lips that I had never heard him call me before, but all that held a genuine affection in them. I stopped my senseless rambling at the tenderness of his touch and softness in his voice.
“It’s okay to not be okay.” He affirmed quietly. “You earned your anger, it’s okay.”
I nodded, my gaze drifting from just beyond his shoulder were my brother stood dumbfounded with my father, looking at him with a mix of question and anger towards the man that he once saw with stars in his eyes.
“Jay, I don’t know what to do.” I confessed quietly, feeling like we were ten again, sharing secrets through a game of telephone, just the two of us stuffed in the corner of my bedroom at midnight, my father unaware that the blonde was still in the house, let alone snuck in my room.
“That’s okay.” He nodded again, and this time his palms molded against the apples of my cheeks, thumbs brushing away my stale tears.
“It’s gonna be okay, we can run, or we can stay and kick him out, or we can do nothing.” I focused on the way he said each option with the use of we, because in our minds, we always escaped hell together.
“Can we just stay here for a little longer?” My eyes found his, and I saw the way his flickered down in a way that felt too intimate for just best friends.
“We can do whatever we want, it’s you and me against the universe, cupcake, and we’re winning it.” He promised.
And just as I always had, I believed every word he said.
