Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
What is with the constant fetishisation of rape and SA on this app and in fan fiction?? I get people have their kinks n shit but rape??? Really???
Not only that but the amount of pedophilia and incest is insane😟
I try not to be judgemental but I don’t get why you would want to read about yourself or someone else being SA how does that not make you uncomfortable and normalising shit like that is so not okay. It is not romance. It is not dark romance. It’s abuse and it’s gross.
I get that people are into different things and that you can’t control what you like most of the time but the normalisation of this stuff is crazy and so damaging especially to minors and victims.
I get CNC like atleast there’s consent in that but straight up violent rape fiction is weird and scary.
Anyway thanks for reading my lil rant!! love you all, stay happy and safe MWAH 💋
May I request something about (kinda sub!)JJ cumming just from dry humping… the thought of it makes my head go 😵💫😵💫
Hi! I can't find the first ask I ever answered about this/kissing on his neck but the follow on is right here
I - at the moment - don't take full fic requests on here as I'm doing that over on my main blog (which shall remain a secret for now) and it takes a lot of time and energy, however you will find my thoughts and feeling below the cut!
It starts off as a pretty standard makeout session on the sofa, whatever was on TV was forgotten about
The moment you started playing with his hair and grinding against him, he couldn't help but get hard, it was a sure fire way to get him hot and heavy
His hands hold on to you a little tighter as the friction starts to build and make him dizzy
It doesn't help that you're on top (not that he's complaining) but the way you're grinding against him and moaning against his lips is making it difficult to keep grounded
He starts rutting up against you, too dizzy and needy to care anymore that he's acting like a certified Slut™
And it all comes rushing up, he can't stop himself and you're not stopping either and before he knows it he's still, your lips on his neck as he completely ruins his boxers and shorts, breathing hard and trying to hide his embarrassment
"that feel good?" You ask in his ear, nipping at the love, making him whimper
He's almost too embarrassed and wracked with pleasure to reply, but the twitch of your hips against him makes him moan and he desperately tries to keep you still for a moment
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“According to Indian Country Today, in 2017, Destany “Sky” Pete, a member of the Shoshone and Paiute Tribes from the Duck Valley Indian Reservation in Idaho and Nevada, discovered that her tribe’s current health issues were linked to a lack of traditional foods, including the forgotten recipe for toishabui, or chokecherry pudding. She enlisted the help of Dr. Ken Cornell of Boise State University, who specializes in cancer research. Dr. Cornell tested four types of chokecherry specimens on uterine sarcoma cancer cells. Remarkably, only one sample – the traditional chokecherry pudding – successfully inhibited cancer cell growth. Within just 24 hours, the cancer cells began to die. Sky noted that the success of the pudding was due to the inclusion of the crushed chokecherry pits, which were a critical component of the recipe.” **Edited to add that she graduated from the University of Idaho today!**
Here's a link to more research done on the effectiveness of chokeberries in cancer treatment and other potential uses, even just a quick search shows that peer review seems to confirm the medicinal benefits known by indigenous communities!
Summer was fast approaching, and, true to form, the Pogues were preparing to find summer jobs. Kiara had secured a position as an assistant at a marine biology lab, Pope was lending a hand to his father, and John B was still attempting to mend fences with Mr. Cameron.
And then there was JJ. He chose gardening.
At first glance, it seemed straightforward enough—just mowing lawns and trimming hedges. However, what he hadn’t anticipated was being under constant supervision.
What began as a fleeting crush grew steadily over time. Initially, you would steal glances at him while he worked. Soon, you found yourself offering him water, and before long, you were deliberately donning the tightest and shortest outfits you could muster, hoping to provoke a reaction.
And JJ—he always looked so effortlessly good.
Today was no different, the air outside was heavy with heat, the kind that clung to bare skin and left it damp, sticky, aching for relief. The lawnmower had been shut off minutes ago, replaced only by the rhythmic scrape of a rake through the trimmed grass, and from your place on the shaded porch, you watched him—JJ Maybank, golden and sweat-slicked, shirt tossed carelessly onto a low-hanging branch as he worked under the punishing sun.
He was a vision of summer itself, all tanned skin and lean muscle, his sun-bleached hair damp at the nape of his neck. Every movement of his arms sent a ripple of definition through his torso, the ridges of his stomach flexing as he dragged the rake back and forth. You knew you shouldn't stare, but it was impossible not to.
And it wasn’t just the sight of him. It was the way he moved—casual, confident, completely unaware of just how fucking sinful he looked standing there in nothing but those low-riding work shorts, the waistband of his boxers peeking out just enough to make your thighs press together.
You had started watching him as an innocent distraction. Something to pass the time. But somewhere between the heat, the stillness of the afternoon, and the pulse of something warm and liquid pooling low in your stomach, it became something else.
A soft exhale left your lips as you shifted against the lounge chair, your book long forgotten, your fingers trailing absentmindedly along the inside of your thigh. The slow, teasing drag of your fingertips sent little shivers up your spine, and God, you were already worked up, already throbbing just from looking at him.
you let your head fall back against the cushions, eyes slipping shut for only a second, just enough to let your hand wander beneath the thin material of your shorts, fingertips barely brushing over the damp heat between your legs. A slow, teasing touch, testing, teasing—
“Shit.”
your eyes snapped open.
JJ was standing just beyond the porch, rake slung over his shoulder, his mouth slightly open like he had been about to say something before the words caught in his throat. His blue eyes were locked onto your, flicking from the guilty way you had jolted upright to the way your hand was still frozen between your legs, caught in the act.
A flush of pure, mortified heat shot through your body, your breath tangling in your chest. “I—”
His gaze darkened. Not in shock, not in disgust. But in something else. Something slower. Hotter.
He licked his lips, stepping closer, boots scuffing against the wooden deck. “Damn,” he muttered, voice rough from the sun, from the heat. “Wasn't expecting a show.”
you swallowed hard, your pulse hammering.
And then he smirked—that lazy, cocky tilt of his lips that sent fire licking up your spine. “But if you wanted me to see, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning a hip against the porch railing, “you should’ve just asked.”
JJ didn’t look away.
Didn’t stammer, didn’t blush, didn’t act like he’d caught your doing something shameful. No, he just stood there, rake slung over his shoulder, sweat glistening on his collarbones, that cocky little smirk curving his lips like he’d just won the goddamn lottery.
“You gonna stop now?” he asked, tilting his head, voice thick and teasing. “That’s a shame. You looked real pretty like that.”
your pulse slammed against your ribs, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. you should stop. Should pull your hand away, pretend like it never happened, make up some excuse—anything.
But his eyes.
God, his eyes.
They burned into your, sharp and hungry, the blue darkened to something almost stormy. He liked it. He wanted to see.
you swallowed hard. “JJ…”
He dragged the rake off his shoulder, setting it aside with a slow, deliberate movement. Then he leaned in, arms braced against the porch railing, bringing himself just close enough for you to feel the heat rolling off his skin.
“Go on,” he murmured. “Don’t stop on my account.”
A sharp, electric jolt shot straight to your core, a flush creeping up your neck. you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—until he reached out, the rough pads of his fingers barely grazing your knee.
“That is…” He gave you a look, slow and taunting. “Unless you want me to stop watching.”
Oh, fuck.
your thighs clenched instinctively, your breath hitching. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. Knew how his voice, low and lazy, sent heat curling through your stomach, how his presence alone made your legs tremble.
And he wanted it. Wanted to see your fall apart under his gaze.
A slow, wicked smirk played at his lips as he trailed his fingers up your thigh, featherlight, teasing, stopping just short of where you needed him most.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let me see you.”
The heat was unbearable. Thick and stifling, pressing down from the heavy summer sun, but it was nothing compared to the heat curling low in your stomach. Nothing compared to the way your whole body burned under JJ’s gaze—sharp, hungry, unapologetic.
you should be embarrassed. Should pull your hand away, squeeze your thighs together, anything to break the tension.
But you didn’t.
your breath was coming in shallow little gasps now, your body practically trembling under the weight of his stare. JJ was staring. Hard. Lips parted, chest rising and falling a little faster than before, his tanned fingers flexing against the inside of your knee like he wanted to inch them higher, wanted to replace your hand with his own.
He liked this. A lot.
“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice thick and lazy, but there was an edge to it now, rough and desperate. “You were doin’ just fine before I caught you.”
your stomach clenched at the teasing lilt of his voice, at the way his blue eyes dragged over your like he wanted to commit every single movement to memory. you swallowed, hesitated for half a second—
Then let your fingers slide lower.
JJ cursed under his breath as you gathered the slick wetness pooling at your entrance, dragging it back up over your clit, making each slow, torturous stroke even smootyour. Even messier.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice dark and full of approval. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”
your thighs clenched at the filthy words, a sharp jolt of pleasure shooting through you.
you wanted more.
So you gave yourself more.
your fingers trailed back down, teasing at your entrance, circling, testing—before slowly, carefully, sliding inside.
JJ sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. His fingers dug into your thigh, his whole body going tense as he watched your ease one finger, then two, into the tight, wet heat of yourself.
“Jesus fuck,” he muttered.
you moaned softly, hips shifting, adjusting to the stretch, the fullness. And when you curled your fingers just right, brushing against that spot deep inside, your body twitched, pleasure shooting up your spine.
JJ groaned. Low and strained, his jaw clenching so tight you thought it might crack.
“Move ‘em,” he rasped. “Come on, baby. Fuck yourself for me.”
your breath hitched, heat flaring in your stomach. you started to move—slow, deliberate thrusts, dragging your fingers in and out, slick and obscene.
JJ looked like he was losing it.
His lips parted, his breathing heavy, his eyes fixed on the way your fingers disappeared inside yourself, over and over again.
“You’re gonna make me fuckin’ ruin my jeans,” he muttered, almost to himself.
A shiver ran through your at the thought of it—of JJ standing there, hard and aching, watching you with his hands clenched into fists like it was taking every ounce of self-control not to touch your.
“Go on, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Make yourself come. Let me see you fall apart.”
your fingers were moving faster now, slick and glistening as they pumped in and out, every thrust pushing your closer, making your thighs tremble as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach.
JJ was staring.
Mouth slightly open, eyes dark and wild, fingers digging into the railing like he was using every ounce of self-restraint not to tear your shorts off and replace your hand with his own.
“Jesus fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Look at you.”
you whimpered, breath hitching, your body arching slightly as you spread your legs a little wider, giving him an even better view.
He swore under his breath, his fingers twitching where they still rested on your thigh, like he was holding himself back.
“Faster,” he muttered, almost a command. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you can take more.”
A desperate little whine slipped past your lips, but you obeyed—your fingers speeding up, thrusting deeper, harder, curling just right against that sweet, aching spot inside your.
JJ’s jaw clenched. His breath was coming in short, uneven bursts now, his whole body so fucking tense—like he was one second away from snapping, from dragging your hand away and shoving his fingers inside your instead, fucking your open until you was a shaking, moaning mess beneath him.
But he didn’t.
He just watched.
Watched as your hips started rocking into every thrust, watched as your other hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your own nipple, tweaking, rolling—
JJ growled.
Low, deep, guttural.
“You’re fuckin’ killing me, baby,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. “You feel good? Bet you’re so goddamn tight around those pretty little fingers, huh?”
You whimpered, back arching off the lounge chair, pleasure spiking so sharp your thighs trembled around your hand.
JJ saw it.
“Yeah,” he murmured, voice dark with approval. “That’s it. Get yourself there.”
Your breath hitched, your fingers pressing harder, deeper, your slick palm rubbing against your swollen clit with every movement.
You were so close.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” JJ rasped, low and rough. “Come all over those fingers—fuck, I wanna see it.”
And that was it.
Your whole body snapped, pleasure tearing through you like a live wire, your breath breaking into a sharp, gasping moan as you came—hard, wet, your fingers buried deep inside, pulsing around them as your hips bucked and stuttered through every aching, perfect wave.
JJ groaned—deep and wrecked, his fingers white-knuckling the railing, his eyes locked onto every twitch, every aftershock, every single movement as you rode it out, slick and shuddering.
you were still catching your breath, your body wrecked from the intensity of it, when you dared to look up at him—
And fuck.
JJ looked like he was in pain.
Like he was barely holding himself together, like watching your fall apart had destroyed him.
And then—slowly, deliberately—his hand slid down to the front of his jeans, palming over the obvious, straining bulge.
His lips curled into something dark, something dangerous.
“Your turn to watch, sweetheart.”
JJ’s breath was wrecked, sharp and uneven, his chest rising and falling in hard, shallow pulls. He was still gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping him upright, but his eyes—fuck, his eyes—were locked on your.
Wide, wild, starving.
And then his hand moved.
Slow, deliberate, like he was dragging out the moment just to make your ache for it. His fingers traced over the front of his jeans, pressing down against the thick bulge, and his head tipped back, a low, ragged groan spilling from his lips.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, voice raw, like he was barely holding himself togetyour.
you couldn’t stop staring.
Couldn’t stop drinking in the way his abs flexed, the way his tan skin gleamed with sweat, the way his fingers twitched over the bulge in his jeans like he was teasing himself, working himself up—just like you had.
JJ’s eyes flicked back down to you, still spread out on the lounge chair, still flustered and trembling from your orgasm, your slick fingers resting against the inside of your thigh.
His jaw tightened.
“Take those shorts off.”
It wasn’t a question.
your breath caught, your stomach clenching at the sharp, commanding edge in his voice. But you didn’t hesitate—your hands moved before you could even think, pushing the fabric down your legs, kicking them off until you were bare, exposed, your skin still dewy with sweat.
JJ groaned, running a hand through his damp hair like he was struggling to keep from just climbing on top of you right then and there.
Then—still watching your, his breath coming out ragged—he popped the button on his jeans.
The sound made your twitch.
your thighs clenched, heat rushing through your veins as he dragged the zipper down, his boxers straining underneath, the thick outline of his cock pressing against the fabric, begging for release.
He smirked, but it was different now—darker, almost mean.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he murmured, voice thick as honey, rough as gravel.
you couldn’t even answer—just swallowed hard, eyes locked onto the way his fingers slipped beneath the waistband, shoving both jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself.
And fuck.
JJ Maybank was big.
Thick, fluyoud, already leaking at the tip, his cock curving up against the hard muscles of his stomach. His fingers wrapped around the base, giving it a slow, teasing stroke, and his head tipped forward, breath stuttering out of him in a sharp, ragged exhale.
“Shit,” he muttered, his voice wrecked, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe how much watching your had fucked him up. “You really got me this fuckin’ hard just from touching yourself, huh?”
you whimpered—actually whimpered—your body tightening at the sight of him, at the slow, lazy strokes he was giving himself, teasing, dragging it out just to make your watch.
“Bet you wanna taste, don’t you?” he murmured, voice low and taunting. “Bet you’d look so fuckin’ pretty with those lips wrapped around me.”
your thighs clenched, heat pooling between them all over again.
JJ noticed.
Noticed the way your body reacted to him, how you were already worked up again just from watching.
He smirked, dragging his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of precum there, his breath shuddering out of him.
“Go on, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Touch yourself again. Wanna see you get all fuckin’ messy for me.”
your breath caught, your whole body going hot at his words, at the sight of him standing there, exposed, stroking himself slow and teasing, just for you. The way his big, rough hand moved over his cock—slicking over the thick head, working his fist down the veiny length before dragging it back up—was obscene, every motion lazy, drawn-out, like he was savoring it.
Like he wanted to drag it out. Make your ache for it.
your thighs squeezed together, your body already throbbing again, your skin still sensitive from your last orgasm.
JJ noticed.
His smirk deepened, but there was something darker behind it now, something almost feral in the way his blue eyes locked onto your bare, glistening thighs.
“You gonna listen to me, sweetheart?” he murmured, voice low, teasing, but there was something almost desperate underneath it now—like watching you come apart had already ruined him, and now he needed you to do it again.
your breath shuddered out of your.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
JJ’s fist tightened around himself, his hips barely rolling into his own touch. “Good girl.”
The words sent a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through your, your body twitching. your hand was already moving before he even had to tell your—fingers sliding back down between your thighs, dipping between your slick, swollen folds, gathering up the wetness pooling there.
JJ let out a wrecked groan, his jaw going tight.
“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, stroking himself a little faster now, his breath coming out ragged. “Already so fuckin’ wet again. Jesus, baby, you love being watched, don’t you?”
your fingers circled your clit, slow, teasing, working yourself up again. your thighs trembled as you pressed down harder, dragging the slickness up, rubbing tight little circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves.
JJ gritted his teeth, his abs flexing, his strokes turning sloppier.
“Wish that was my fuckin’ hand,” he groaned. “Wish I was down there, spreading you open, getting you all messy for me.”
you whimpered, your body reacting on instinct to the filthy words spilling from his lips.
His smirk twitched, turning almost mean. “Yeah? You like that idea, don’t you? Bet you’d let me slide my fingers inside that tight little cunt, get you all stretched out for me.”
your hips jerked up into your own touch, pleasure sparking sharp in your belly.
JJ growled. Actually fucking growled. His breath shuddered out of him, his hips rolling harder into his hand.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me. Wanna see you get desperate.”
your breath hitched, and you obeyed—your fingers sliding down, circling your entrance, teasing, before sinking deep inside yourself again.
JJ swore, his whole body tensing like he felt it, like just watching you take your fingers was about to send him over the edge.
“Fuck,” he panted, his strokes turning rough, his hips rolling into his own grip. “Wish it was my cock stretching you open right now. You’d take me so fuckin’ well, wouldn’t you?”
your fingers pumped harder, faster, slick and obscene, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.
JJ was losing it. His hand was flying over his cock now, his breath wrecked, his hips stuttering, his abs clenching as he watched your—
“Come on, baby,” he groaned, desperate now. “Come for me again. Let me fuckin’ see it.”
your body snapped, pleasure slamming into your like a wave crashing over your, your back arching off the lounge chair as you came—loud and messy, your slick fingers buried inside yourself, your thighs shaking with the force of it.
JJ snarled through gritted teeth, his body going tight, his abs flexing hard—
Then his head tipped back, a deep, guttural groan ripping out of his throat as he came, thick ropes spilling over his fingers, coating his stomach, his muscles tensing with every pulse.
For a moment, the only sound was the ragged, uneven breaths between them, the distant hum of cicadas in the thick summer heat.
Then JJ let out a low, breathless laugh, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, grinning at your through half-lidded eyes. “That’s gotta be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You let out a breathless little laugh, still dazed, your body spent.
JJ smirked, dragging his thumb through the mess on his stomach before sucking it between his lips, humming like he enjoyed the taste of himself.
your stomach flipped.
Then he reached for his shirt, using it to wipe himself off before tossing it aside and flashing you a lazy grin.
“So,” he drawled, propping himself against the railing, still looking you over like you were something he wanted to devour.
💬 jj maybank x reader ˙˖ reckless love, sharp banter, adrenaline highs, a dirt bike crash, a moment in Pope’s bathroom, and a group chat disaster waiting to happen because trouble follows JJ, and you always follow him. ♡ 3.9K words.
Summary: JJ Maybank was always a bad idea, and you were always going to say yes anyway. One dirt bike ride, one wreck, and one bruised-up confession later, you're left wondering, what’s more dangerous? The crash or the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing worth slowing down for?
“C’mon, princess, don’t you trust me?” JJ grinned, his voice dripping honey and arrogance as he leaned against the dirt bike, all sun-kissed skin and reckless charm. His blond hair caught the sunset, messy strands framing his face, a challenge glinting dangerously in those blue eyes.
Your stomach flipped. You hated, absolutely hated, how effortlessly this boy made your common sense vanish. Still, you folded your arms defiantly, eyes narrowed at the machine that looked about as trustworthy as its rider. “JJ, the last thing I trust you with is my life. And honestly, that thing looks like it’s held together by duct tape.”
“It literally is.” He laughed, tapping the seat proudly. “Best duct tape on the island, baby.”
You rolled your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks at the way his stare lingered just a second too long on your lips, your neck, then back to your eyes. His cocky grin widened. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Fine,” you finally caved, ignoring the victorious way JJ straightened up, suddenly bright-eyed and eager. “But if you crash and kill us both, I’m haunting your ass first.”
“I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, sweetheart,” he shot back, extending a hand dramatically.
Rolling your eyes again, you slipped onto the bike behind him, heart already pounding in your chest. JJ reached back, tugging your arms around his waist, his calloused hands warm against yours. “Hold on tight,” he teased, “it’s gonna get rough.”
“Shut up and drive, dirtbag.”
JJ laughed—bright and reckless, wild and free—as he kicked the bike to life. The engine roared beneath you, vibrating deep into your bones, and suddenly he was taking off down the dirt path, wind whipping through your hair, laughter bubbling in your chest.
For a moment, you felt invincible. And for a moment, JJ Maybank felt like everything right and wrong in your world.
That was, of course, until you felt him suddenly tense under your grip, his laughter abruptly morphing into a breathless “Oh, shit—”
Then the bike jerked, skidded sideways, and suddenly the two of you were tumbling, limbs tangled as you hit the soft sandbank with a messy crash. Pain sparked through your elbow as your shoulder slammed into the ground. You landed on your side, blinking dazedly at the sky above you, head spinning.
JJ groaned loudly, sprawled a few feet away, significantly more battered. Sand dusted his hair, blood dripped lightly from his forehead, and his face twisted in guilt-ridden panic when he saw your eyes flutter shut.
“Oh my God, shit, shit—” He scrambled closer, hands trembling as he touched your face carefully, voice shaking in genuine terror. “Princess? Babe? C’mon, open your eyes—I’m sorry, I’m a dumbass, okay? Fuck—please don’t be dead. If you’re dead, I swear, I’ll kill myself and haunt you right back.”
You fought down the smile threatening your lips, but curiosity won out. You wanted to see what JJ Maybank’s fear sounded like—what it felt like to be cared for by someone so reckless yet so deeply sincere. You kept your breathing shallow, waiting for his next words.
“I can’t—I can’t lose you like this,” he stammered, voice thickening, and you felt your heartbeat stutter at the raw honesty lacing his panic. “You mean too fucking much to me, okay? Shit, I—I know I’m an idiot, and I screw everything up, but I’d never forgive myself if—”
You couldn’t hold back the smirk any longer. Your eyes snapped open, startling him mid-confession. “Did JJ Maybank just admit he actually has feelings?”
JJ fell backward onto the sand, eyes wide and stunned, before a sheepish relief washed across his bloodied face. “Oh, you absolute asshole.”
“Takes one to know one,” you teased weakly, laughter catching in your throat as he hovered protectively over you again, expression softening dramatically.
“You scared the living shit out of me,” JJ murmured, gently brushing sand from your cheek. “I thought I lost you.”
Your heart skipped, warmth pooling low in your stomach. You reached out, fingers tracing the cuts along his jaw, feeling him lean instinctively into your touch. “I’m okay,” you whispered softly, reassuring him—and maybe yourself. “I promise.”
JJ huffed out a relieved breath, his trademark smirk slowly returning, eyes glittering mischievously. “Good. Because, princess, that confession? Never happened.”
You raised a brow, smiling slowly, teasingly back at him, lips barely inches apart. “Whatever you say, Maybank.”
JJ’s eyes flicked briefly down to your lips, lingering, before he suddenly cleared his throat and glanced away, embarrassment tinting his bruised cheeks pink. You bit back a smile at the rare display of shyness from Outer Banks’ most notorious troublemaker.
“Let’s, uh, get you home,” he muttered, pushing himself up from the sand, wincing dramatically at the pain radiating through his ribs. “Kie’s gonna kill me if she sees you like this.”
You laughed softly, slowly rising to your feet and brushing off sand that clung stubbornly to your skin. You moved closer, gently placing your hand on JJ’s chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken beneath your palm. “Pretty sure you look worse, JJ.”
He let out a cocky snort, though it was edged with a grimace. “Nah, bruises add to my whole hot bad-boy thing. Chicks dig it, you know.”
“Oh, do we?” You tilted your head, eyes gleaming playfully as you leaned just a little closer. JJ swallowed visibly, his bravado faltering slightly under your heated gaze.
“Yeah—definitely,” he insisted, voice slightly hoarse as he struggled to hold your stare. He licked his lips, forcing the trademark smirk back into place. “Don’t act like it doesn’t work on you.”
You hummed thoughtfully, your fingertips tracing gently along his jawline, careful of the fresh scrapes there. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing you knocked down a peg or two.”
“Cruel, princess,” JJ whispered, his eyes now firmly locked on your mouth. His voice dropped, taking on a teasing tone that sent sparks shooting down your spine. “But you know, you’re welcome to knock me down anytime.”
You groaned softly, eyes rolling affectionately as heat bloomed in your cheeks. “God, you’re such a dirtbag.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dirtbag, right?” JJ challenged, eyes hopeful, almost vulnerable despite the playful words. The confident, cocky façade he so carefully wore seemed to crumble slightly under your careful scrutiny, revealing something softer, something more genuine.
You swallowed, your heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. Your voice softened as you smiled warmly, pressing gently into his space until his breath brushed your lips. “Yeah, JJ. You’re my dirtbag.”
He leaned forward, lips ghosting over yours for a heart-stopping moment—sweet, soft, gentle—before he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “Good. Would’ve sucked to almost die for nothing.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head at his dramatics, before finally pulling him back in, closing the tiny gap between you. He tasted like salt and recklessness and something beautifully, uniquely JJ. His hands curled around your waist, pulling you closer as you kissed him until the whole world faded away—the pain, the bruises, the wrecked bike forgotten in the sand.
JJ deepened the kiss in that cocky, I-knew-you-wanted-me kind of way, but there was something else there, something desperate, something real. His fingers dug into your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish, like he needed you close just to prove you were still here, still breathing, still his.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy, JJ didn’t let you go. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes still shut, like he was soaking in the moment, memorizing it.
“I cannot believe you almost got me killed just to confess your feelings.” You exhaled a laugh, brushing some of the sand from his hair.
JJ groaned, finally cracking one eye open, sheepish but not too ashamed. “I was not confessing, that was pure panic.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Panic over losing me.”
“Panic over my poor decision-making skills,” he corrected quickly, then winced at his own words. “Which, okay—fine, are because of you.” He pouted a little, running a hand through his hair, before shooting you a lopsided smirk. “Look at you, making me soft. It’s disgusting.”
You grinned, tugging him closer by his open flannel. “You like it.”
JJ’s hands slipped lower, fingers teasing the hem of your tank top as he hummed in faux consideration. “I like that you almost just died,” he said dramatically, “but instead of thanking your hot savior—who is tragically wounded, by the way—you’re sitting here bullying me.”
You scoffed. “Hot savior? You crashed the bike.”
“Yeah, but—” JJ gestured wildly at his cut-up, bruised self, “—I survived it. Like a war hero.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, but JJ was relentless, poking your ribs with mock offense. “You’re not even gonna kiss my wounds better? Damn, princess. Cold-hearted.”
Rolling your eyes, you leaned in and very gently pressed a kiss to the cut just above his eyebrow. JJ froze. His breath hitched so softly you barely caught it, but you did. His grip on your hips tightened.
Your lips ghosted lower, just along his jaw. “Better?”
JJ exhaled sharply, eyes darkening. “You are so fucking lucky I’m concussed right now,” he muttered.
You smirked. “Why’s that?”
His tongue swiped over his busted lip before he smeared the blood away with the back of his hand, eyes never leaving yours. “Because if I wasn’t seeing double, I’d already have you pinned against something, making worse decisions.”
Oh.
Heat pooled in your stomach. JJ smirked, watching the way you swallowed, the way your eyes flicked to his lips like you couldn’t help yourself.
“You’re dumb,” you murmured, shoving at his chest, though it lacked any real force.
JJ was grinning despite the blood dripping down his temple. “And you’re ungrateful. I just gave you a core memory.”
You turned, unimpressed. “A concussion is not a core memory.”
“It is when it happens this epically.” He gestured vaguely at the wrecked bike, the sand sticking to his skin, and his own bruised ribs. “Like, c’mon, we ate shit beautifully back there. We should be in a museum.”
You stared at him. “Did you actually hit your head?”
JJ blinked. “Oh, for sure. But I think it knocked something into place, honestly. I feel great.”
You huffed, stepping over him, making your way toward the road. “You need serious help.”
JJ, still sprawled in the sand, propped himself up on one elbow, watching you go. “Hey, you knew exactly what you were signing up for.”
You paused, looking back.
JJ’s eyes were sharper now, less teasing, more pointed. “You always do.”
Your stomach flipped. He was right. You did know what you were getting into when you climbed onto that bike. You knew exactly who JJ Maybank was. Wild, reckless, and always walking the line between charming and infuriating. But it was dangerously easy to forget just how good he was at reading you, too.
You didn’t get the chance to reply before you both heard a voice approaching from the trees.
“WHAT THE FUCK—JJ?”
Pope.
You barely had time to react before JJ was already groaning, flopping onto the sand dramatically. “Oh my God, thank God you’re here, man. She almost killed me.”
Your jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Pope looked between you, the wrecked bike, the way JJ was sprawled out like he’d just been attacked, and sighed the longest, most exhausted sigh you’d ever heard.
“I’m not even gonna ask,” Pope muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get in the damn car before you both end up in jail for being stupid.”
JJ, still sprawled in the dirt, lifted a hand. “Carry me.”
You stepped over him without a word, heading for the car.
JJ groaned dramatically. “Bro, you see how she treats me?”
Pope sighed. “Unfortunately.”
JJ hauled himself up with a wince, dusting off his pants as he jogged after you. “You’d think after everything we’ve been through, she’d be a little nicer.”
Pope slid into the driver’s seat, unimpressed. “You’d think after everything we’ve been through, you’d be smarter.”
JJ just snorted, slumping into the backseat beside you. One arm stretched along the back of the seat, fingers barely grazing your shoulder, his knee knocking into yours like he had no concept of personal space.
Pope was muttering something about how you two were going to give him an aneurysm before he turned 25, but you barely heard him. You were too aware of JJ beside you—the way his knee kept knocking into yours, the way he kept looking at you like he had something to say, but wasn’t saying it.
And you were looking, too. Watching the way his fingers drummed against his thigh, the way his busted lip was already swelling, the way he seemed both exhausted and wired at the same time.
He caught you staring when Pope pulled into the driveway.
JJ grinned, all lazy and smug despite the bruises forming along his jaw. “Told you. Obsessed.”
You rolled your eyes, shoving the car door open. “Get inside before your dumb ass passes out on the lawn.”
Pope barely put the car in park before JJ was hopping out, stretching with a groan. “God, you’re bossy. It’s kinda hot.”
Pope smacked the back of his head on his way past. “Go ice your face, Maybank. I swear to God, if I lose more brain cells because of you two—”
“You’d still have more than JJ,” you quipped, pushing open the door.
JJ scoffed, grabbing the doorframe like he might collapse. “Damn. That one kinda hurt.”
Pope rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I gotta run into Heyward’s real quick—Dad needs help with the late orders. Can you two go inside and not set my house on fire for ten minutes?”
Your stomach flipped. Pope leaving meant you and JJ were alone.
Which shouldn’t mean anything.
But it did.
You shrugged. “We’ll be good.”
JJ smirked like that was a personal challenge. “Debatable.”
Pope muttered something under his breath and disappeared toward the dock, slipping into the back entrance of Heyward’s. You could still hear the muffled hum of conversation from inside the restaurant. Low music, clinking dishes, the usual late-night lull. But Pope was gone.
For now.
And JJ?
JJ was already watching you.
His busted lip was swollen, his jaw bruised, his knuckles scraped up from God knows what—and yet, even like this, he still had that look in his eye. That half-lazy, half-sharp glint like he was up to something, even if he hadn’t decided what yet.
You sighed, grabbing his wrist. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
JJ hummed, letting you pull him inside. “Aw. You do care.”
“Shut up.”
The kitchen was dimly lit, the glow from the back porch casting long shadows across the floor. You moved toward the freezer, reaching for an ice pack—
But JJ didn’t.
He hovered near the counter, watching you with a little too much focus, like he was thinking way too hard about something. His fingers flexed against the wood, tension coiled tight in his arms.
You turned, pressing the ice pack into his hand. “Hold this to your face before you get uglier.”
JJ didn’t take it.
Didn’t move.
Instead, his eyes dragged down your face, lower, slower, and suddenly the air between you felt thick. Charged.
His tongue swiped over his busted lip. “Y’know…” He tilted his head, stepping closer, voice dropping. “Pope’s gone for a while.”
Your heart skipped. “Yeah. And?”
His hand lifted—not for the ice pack. He hooked a finger through your belt loop instead, curling it around the denim like he was testing something, like he was waiting to see if you’d stop him. His eyes flicked to your lips, then lower, tracing the curve of your throat before dragging back up.
“And you’re here,” he murmured. His fingers flexed, tugging you the slightest bit forward, heat bleeding between your bodies. “I’m here.”
You swallowed, pulse hammering.
JJ Maybank was beaten to hell. Busted lip, bruised jaw, soreness carved into his bones—and still, he wanted to make bad decisions.
With you.
His grip on your belt loop tugged again. “You gonna stop me?”
And fuck, you should.
But you didn’t step back.
And JJ noticed.
Saw the way your breath hitched, the way your fingers clenched around the ice pack like it could actually cool you down. His smirk deepened, knowing, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and then—
His grip on your waist slid lower, fingers barely brushing the hem of your shorts, teasing, before curling around your wrist. “Drop it.”
Your breath hitched. “JJ—”
“Drop it, baby.”
Your fingers went slack, and the ice pack hit the counter with a soft thud, forgotten.
JJ grinned like he’d won.
Then he moved.
Not slow. Not careful. Just JJ, all impulse and hunger, yanking you forward until you crashed into him.
One hand gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, the other fisting into your hair, angling your head back as his tongue slipped past your lips. He tasted like salt and blood and trouble, and it only made you dizzy, made you open your mouth wider, let him take more.
JJ felt that. Exhaled sharply against your mouth, like he needed this.
His hands roamed—greedy, sliding under your shirt, fingertips dragging up your spine like he wanted to feel every inch of you. Then lower, gripping your ass, tight, before he lifted you slightly, just enough to slot you right where he wanted you.
You gasped against his lips, and JJ chased it, dragging his mouth down your jaw, sucking hard at the spot beneath your ear, teeth sinking in just enough to make your knees buckle.
“JJ—”
“Upstairs.”
His voice was rough, breath hot against your skin. His hips rolled into yours again, teasing, slow.
You shuddered.
“JJ, we—”
“I need you upstairs.”
Your stomach flipped.
Stupid, reckless, JJ. You should say no. You should make him sit down, ice his damn face, get some actual rest.
Instead—
You grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs.
Somehow, you ended up in Pope’s bathroom, because it was the closest, because the light was already on, because you barely made it inside before JJ was kicking the door shut and pressing you against it.
“Fuck,” he breathed, forehead resting against yours. “You really like me, huh?”
You let out something between a laugh and a groan, tugging his face back down to yours.
“I tolerate you.”
“Liar,” he whispered against your lips. Then he kissed you again.
JJ’s hands were on your hips, your back flush against the door, his breath still uneven against your mouth. You were too close, close enough to count every freckle on his sunburned skin. But now that the adrenaline was wearing off, something sharper settled between you—awareness.
This wasn’t the middle of the road. Wasn’t reckless and impulsive, fueled by the crash and the rush.
This was Pope’s bathroom.
And no matter how much of a dumbass JJ was, even he had to know that if Pope caught you in here like this, it was over.
You swallowed hard. “This is a bad idea.”
JJ grinned, all teeth and trouble. “That’s why it’s fun.”
You smacked his shoulder. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he muttered, but he didn’t kiss you again. Instead, his fingers played at the hem of your shirt, like he was debating just how much worse of a decision this could be. Like he was waiting for you.
And that was the problem. JJ Maybank was impulsive and reckless, but when it came to this—to you—he always left the final call in your hands.
Your pulse pounded in your throat.
Then, a floorboard creaked.
JJ froze. So did you.
Pope’s voice carried up the stairs. “JJ? Did you actually die, or are you just being dramatic?”
JJ’s eyes went wide. Then he was moving—grabbing your face, pressing a quick, messy kiss to your lips before stumbling back, yanking the bathroom door open.
“Bro,” he groaned loudly, tilting his head back like he was so put out by all of this. “I’m trying to clean myself up, but your towels are, like, hospital-grade sandpaper. What the hell?”
You turned toward the mirror, running a hand through your hair, trying to look not like you’d just been seconds away from making a life-altering mistake in Pope’s bathroom.
Pope stood in the hallway, arms crossed, unimpressed. “Right. And you dragged her in here for moral support?”
JJ grinned, leaning against the doorframe, like he wasn’t still breathless, like his lip wasn’t freshly swollen. “She insisted.”
You caught JJ’s reflection in the mirror, and he winked at you behind Pope’s back, smug and insufferable.
You shook your head, biting back a smile. This idiot.
[POGUE GROUP CHAT]
🏴☠️ POGUE LIFE 🏴☠️
Pope: WHY WERE YOU IN MY BATHROOM.
Pope: ACTUALLY NO. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW.
Kiara: wait. what.
John B: oh this is gonna be good.
Pope: I ALMOST WALKED IN. IN MY HOUSE. DO YOU KNOW THE TRAUMA.
Kiara: JJ WHAT DID YOU DO.
JJ: nothing!!!
Pope: LIES.
You: ok technically I didn’t do anything.
Kiara: TECHNICALLY?
John B: wow JJ finally fumbled a response. This must be serious.
JJ: Bro. I did NOT fumble. I was THRIVING.
Pope: YOU WERE THRIVING IN MY BATHROOM. I WILL NEVER BE CLEAN AGAIN.
Kiara: 💀💀💀
You: pls we weren’t even doing anything 💀
Pope: I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.
JJ: Not my fault your bathroom has ✨ambiance✨
Pope: I’m gonna block you.
John B: nah Pope’s gonna sage his whole house first.
Kiara: JJ do you have a death wish.
JJ: idk man ask her she’s the one who dragged me upstairs 👀
You: YOU SAID “UPSTAIRS. I NEED YOU UPSTAIRS.”
Kiara: OH?????????
John B: OH??????????????
Pope: OH HELL NO.
JJ: ok maybe that happened.
Kiara: I’m actually screaming.
John B: Pope how does it feel knowing your bathroom is sacred now.
Pope: I hate you all so much.
The house had settled a little. Pope was still grumbling under his breath, but now that Kiara and John B were here, he at least had other people to be exasperated with instead of just you and JJ. The group was spread out in the living room, half-distracted by some dumb show playing on the TV while Pope ranted about boundaries and common decency.
But JJ was quieter now.
He was slumped on the couch next to you, a bag of ice pressed halfheartedly to his jaw. The swelling was worse than before, dark bruises blooming along his cheekbone, but he didn’t seem to care much. He just let his head tip back, eyes slipping shut like the weight of the day was finally catching up to him.
You shifted, nudging his arm. “You’re not even holding the ice in the right place.”
JJ cracked one eye open. “What, suddenly you’re a doctor?”
You sighed, taking the bag from his hands, pressing it properly against the worst of the swelling. JJ didn’t flinch, just let out a low sigh, like he’d been waiting for you to do it the whole time.
“Better?” you murmured.
JJ’s lips twitched. “Could be better if you kissed it.”
You rolled your eyes, but your fingers lingered against his skin anyway. His gaze flickered down to where your hand rested against his jaw, and for a second, neither of you said anything.
John B cleared his throat. “Uh. Should we leave?”
You startled, pulling back so fast the ice bag nearly slipped from your grip.
JJ, the asshole, didn’t even look remotely embarrassed. He just smirked, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Nah, man. She just loves taking care of me. Can’t help herself.”
Kiara snorted. “Or maybe she’s just making sure you don’t die of your own stupidity.”
Pope sighed, flopping into the armchair. “Honestly, that would solve so many problems.”
JJ grinned, but when you pressed the ice back to his jaw, his hand covered yours for just a second, just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his fingers against your skin.
You swallowed hard.
JJ just leaned in slightly, voice quieter now, like he wasn’t just messing around anymore.
“You always do that.”
You frowned, still pressing the ice against his jaw. “Do what?”
His fingers tapped against his knee, restless, like he was working up to something. “Make sure I’m okay. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
“You think that’s how this works?” you murmured, tilting the ice slightly, watching him wince. “That you have to deserve it?”
JJ’s smirk twitched back into place, but it wasn’t full-strength. “Can’t hurt, right?”
You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. This boy. This stupid, reckless, maddening boy, who threw himself headfirst into everything, fights, dirt bike crashes, you, like he wasn’t scared of a single consequence. Like he could survive anything.
But JJ didn’t just survive. He burned. And somehow, you always ended up right in the fire with him.
“I knew what I was signing up for,” you murmured.
JJ stilled. His eyes flicked up to yours, sharp, unreadable.
Your grip tightened on the ice pack. “I climbed onto that bike with you. I knew this could happen.”
JJ’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his body too still now, like he was trying not to let whatever he was thinking show on his face.
And then, because of course he couldn’t let a moment be too serious, he smirked. “You mean the part where I almost died? Or the part where you were checking me out when I was bleeding out in the sand?”
Your jaw dropped. “JJ.”
“I’m just saying,” he teased, grin widening, “you looked real concerned about my well-being, sweetheart.”
You shoved the ice pack harder against his face.
JJ yelped, cursing under his breath, but the way he was looking at you—half-wild, half-fond, like he was still coming down from the rush of the crash and the rush of you—made your stomach flip.
John B groaned from across the room. “Can you guys not do whatever this is while Pope’s mid-breakdown?”
You finally glanced away, just in time to catch Kiara stifling a laugh as Pope rubbed his temples, looking one rant away from total resignation.
JJ grinned, winking at you as he dramatically flopped back onto the couch. “What can I say? She just can’t stay away.”
Your pulse was still thrumming in your ears, the adrenaline still crackling under your skin.
The room was humid with heat and tension, the kind only Rafe Cameron could create. His weight hovered above you, the air thick with your moans and his low, gruff panting. Sweat clung to your bodies, his chest brushing yours with each thrust, the rhythmic slap of skin-on-skin echoing in the room like a hypnotic drumbeat.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe growled, voice ragged, a low rumble in his throat. His hips slammed into yours again, your body jolting under his, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. “Always so fucking tight for me.”
Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, nails scratching down his sweat-slicked skin. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, breathless and desperate, your eyes rolling back as his cock dragged deep inside you, the condom-covered length stretching you to your limit.
Rafe was relentless, his pace quickening, and you could feel the burn of pleasure mounting inside you. His hand came up to grip your jaw, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as his eyes locked on yours, wild and dark.
“You love this, don’t you?” he hissed, lips brushing your ear before he nipped at your lobe. “Love when I fuck you like this—deep, rough…owning every inch of you.”
You gasped, your hips bucking up into him, chasing every thrust, chasing that edge that felt so close but still just out of reach. His cock hit the perfect spot inside you again and again, but your mind, foggy and needy, was stuck on one thing.
“Rafe,” you moaned, voice breaking with the intensity, “pull out.”
His thrusts faltered for a split second, confusion flickering across his face as he leaned back just enough to stare down at you. His jaw clenched, sweat dripping from his temple.
“What?” His voice was rough, wrecked.
You reached between your bodies, trembling fingers gripping the base of him, your eyes dark with lust and determination.
“Take it off,” you whispered, lips parted, panting. “The condom…take it off. I want to feel you.”
Rafe froze, his pupils dilating, chest heaving like he’d been sucker punched. His hand wrapped around yours, his breath catching.
“You’re serious?”
You nodded, voice barely above a whimper. “I want you to fuck me raw. I want to feel everything. I want you to cum in me.”
A low, feral growl ripped from his throat, the sound animalistic. He didn’t need to be told again. Rafe pulled out slowly, almost shaking as he tore the condom off, tossing it aside like it was the last thing on earth he cared about. His cock stood hard and slick with your arousal, twitching in his hand.
“Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me,” he muttered, guiding himself back to your soaked entrance. He paused for just a second, eyes locking with yours, voice deep and possessive. “You want this? Say it.”
“I want it,” you whispered, gripping his biceps. “I want you to fuck me raw. Cum inside me.”
That was all he needed.
Rafe slammed back inside you, the raw, hot sensation of his bare cock making you arch and cry out his name like a curse. He hissed at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut for a second before they snapped open again, dark and wild.
“Shit…you feel—fuck—so much better like this,” he groaned, his pace brutal from the start, as if he’d been holding back the entire time. “I can feel everything…every damn inch of you.”
Your body writhed beneath him, pleasure shooting through you like lightning, blinding and intense. The stretch was overwhelming, his cock dragging against your walls with perfect precision, every inch of him claiming you in the most primal way.
Rafe leaned down, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding—possessive and grounding. His lips hovered over yours, breath hot and heavy.
“You’re mine now,” he snarled, pounding into you so hard the bed shook beneath you. “You let me fuck you raw, let me fill you up. You’re mine.”
You cried out, legs trembling around him, your nails raking down his back as your climax crashed into you with violent force. The rawness, the heat, the intensity—it was too much, and yet, not enough.
“Rafe, I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!”
“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, thrusting harder, chasing his own high. “Milk my cock. Make me fill you up.”
Your body shook, spasming around him as he groaned, his rhythm faltering, hips jerking erratically. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your head spin.
“Shit—gonna cum—inside you. Fuck, take it.”
You barely had time to breathe before you felt it—his cock pulsing, thick and deep inside you, his cum spilling into you in hot, heavy spurts. Rafe’s head dropped to your shoulder, his breath ragged and broken, body shuddering with every twitch of his release.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
summary: jj thought he had her back—his dead girlfriend—until the moment he tried to prove it, and suddenly, she was gone, leaving him spiraling while his friends realized he had already fallen too far.
dead gf!reader x jj maybank
cw: grief, death, loss, hallucinations, depression, psychological distress & trauma, jj slowly losing himself to the grief, 18+, sad smut, angst
IT STARTS WITH THE LONELINESS…
a slow, suffocating thing, curling around JJ like a vice, sinking its claws into his chest, pressing against his ribs until he can’t breathe right anymore.
it follows him everywhere.
at the chateau, where your laughter used to bounce off the walls.
at the boneyard, where you used to tug on his arm, pulling him into the waves, rolling your eyes when he smirked and grabbed your waist, pressing wet, salty kisses against your skin.
in his bed, where your absence is a hollow, gaping wound, a space that still smells like you but will never hold you again.
it’s been months, but time means nothing. the grief hasn’t lessened. if anything, it’s worse now—festering, rotting, bleeding into every part of him like an infection.
the pogues have stopped asking him if he’s okay.
they tried at first, of course.
kiara had whispered, “JJ, you need to eat.” she had placed a plate in front of him, eyes full of worry, but JJ just stared at it, appetite long gone, stomach curling in on itself at the thought of swallowing anything down.
pope had tried to keep him moving, keep him distracted, rambling about some new treasure hunt, some new plan—JJ didn’t care.
john b had sat beside him, quiet, handing him a beer, taking a sip of his own, waiting for him to speak. but, of course, jj didn’t say anything.
he didn’t want to talk.
didn’t want to think.
didn’t want to exist. not without you in this world.
————————
JJ hadn’t wanted to go, but kiara had practically dragged him out of the chateau, insisting he needed to be around people.
he sat in the booth, staring blankly at his untouched food, the murmur of conversation around him a dull hum in his ears.
and then, in the corner of his eye. he saw you.
sitting at the counter, head tilted slightly, a loose strand of hair falling in front of your face.
his heart stopped. he turned, breath caught in his throat, chest aching with something raw and desperate.
but the second his eyes fully focused, you were gone.
an empty stool sat in your place.
his blood ran cold.
his pulse thrummed violently against his skin, his fingers twitching, his stomach twisting into a knot so tight he thought he might be sick.
“JJ?” kiara’s voice was distant, concerned. “what’s wrong?”
he blinked, forcing himself to breathe, shaking his head. “nothing,” he muttered, but his own voice sounded hollow.
kiara didn’t push.
but JJ knew.
he knew what he saw.
————————
after that, it begins to happens more often.
at the boneyard, he catches a glimpse of her standing by the water. he nearly breaks his fucking neck spinning around, but she’s already gone, replaced by nothing but waves lapping against the shore.
in the chateau, he swears he hears her humming in the kitchen, the soft melody one you used to hum absentmindedly when you were cooking or cleaning or just existing.
he walks in, chest tight, throat burning—but you’re not there to greet him.
just an empty counter. a quiet house.
he checks his stash of weed, wondering if he’s just too high, too strung out, but he knows what’s happening.
and it’s not drugs.
it’s you.
————————
he doesn’t sleep anymore. or at least, not properly. when he does, it’s restless. he wakes up in cold sweats, dreams fading too fast to grasp, but the feeling lingers. like you were there. like you were touching him.
his bed is too cold. his sheets don’t smell like you anymore. so sometimes, he sleeps on the floor instead. because if he closes his eyes, if he lets himself get too comfortable, he starts to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’re curled up next to him again.
and when he reaches out and finds nothing?
that’s when it hurts the most.
——————
the chateau is dark except for the dim, flickering light of the tv, playing some old movie JJ isn’t really watching. the volume is low, a quiet hum in the background, doing little to fill the empty silence where your voice used to be.
JJ is stretched out on the couch, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, his free hand resting against his forehead. he hasn’t slept properly in months. not since you died.
his body is heavy, his mind drifting somewhere between exhaustion and something darker. that’s when he sees you. at first, it’s like every other time. a flicker in the doorway. a figure in the corner of his eye.
his heart stutters in his chest, but he doesn’t react.
he doesn’t turn his head, doesn’t reach out—he’s done that before, and every time, you just fucking disappeared like smoke slipping through his fingers.
so this time, JJ just speaks.
“y’know, if you’re gonna keep haunting me,” he mutters, voice hoarse, rough with exhaustion, “you could at least say something.”
his words are half a joke, half a plea.
JJ’s body goes rigid as your head turns just slightly towards him.
not past him.
not through him.
at him.
your big, perfect eyes lock onto his, the way they used to in quiet moments, the way they did when you would lay beside him in bed, tracing shapes on his skin, whispering things only for him to hear.
his entire world tilts. his heart is a violent, thrashing thing in his chest. his fingers tremble against the empty beer bottle. his mouth runs dry. you look exactly the same. your skin, soft and real. your lips, slightly parted, breathless. your hair, falling into your face just like it always did.
his mind is screaming at him that this isn’t real. but his heart—his fucking heart—is telling him that you’re right here.
he swallows hard.
“baby?” his voice cracks, barely a whisper.
you blink.
JJ’s blood turns to ice. you’re still there. not disappearing, not flickering out like some cruel trick of the light. JJ sits up slowly, every movement careful, like if he moves too fast, he’ll wake up. like if he blinks too hard, you’ll be gone. his chest feels tight, his stomach twisted into a painful knot.
“you’re here,” he breathes.
you nod.
his hands tighten around the couch, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. his head shakes, barely noticeable. “how?”
you just watch him. your eyes are soft, thoughtful.
JJ’s head is spinning. his body is stuck between fear and relief, his pulse thrumming wildly against his skin.
“you’re not real,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, dragging a shaky hand down his face. “i—i’ve seriously lost it. i’m losing my fucking mind.” he rubs his eyes, blinking hard, forcing himself to breathe.
but when he looks again, you’re still there.
his heart lurches into his throat. his lungs feel too tight, like he can’t get enough air. he hates how his chest aches with something like hope.
“you don’t believe i’m here?” you ask softly, head tilting in curiosity.
JJ flinches. he heard you. not just in his head. not just an echo of a memory. your voice—your actual fucking voice—is right here, in the room with him.
his vision blurs. he grips his knees, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans as he struggles to breathe past the lump in his throat.
“i don’t know,” he chokes out. “i don’t know what’s real anymore.”
you take a step closer.
JJ doesn’t move. he’s frozen, paralyzed, fucking terrified, but at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end. he doesn’t want you to disappear again.
“i miss you,” he whispers. his voice is wrecked. barely there.
you tilt your head slightly, your expression soft.
you reach for him.
JJ’s stomach drops.
hus heart stutters, his entire body locking up—but he doesn’t run.
for the first time in months, he felt your touch.
———THE FIRST WEEK———
JJ doesn’t tell anyone. how the fuck could he?
the pogues already treat him like he’s on the edge, tiptoeing around him, waiting for him to snap, to finally break for good.
if he told them the truth—that he sees you, hears you, touches you—they’d put him in a fucking psych ward. so, he keeps it to himself.
during the day, he pretends. he lets kie check in on him. lets john b sit with him in silence, passing him a beer. lets pope ask if he’s been eating, if he’s been sleeping.
he lies.
he tells them what they want to hear.
because the truth?
the truth is he has you now.
at night, when he’s finally alone in the chateau, you are there. you’re waiting for him, just like you always used to. and JJ doesn’t take it for granted.
the first time he kisses you again, it’s hesitant, like he’s afraid he might be imagining it. his lips barely brush against yours, and for a split second, he’s terrified that when he opens his eyes, you’ll be gone. but you’re still there.
still soft.
still warm.
so he lets himself fall deeper into his psychosis.
he pulls you into his lap, his hands gripping your waist like a lifeline, his breath uneven as he whispers against your lips, “i fucking missed you, mama.”
you smile.
and JJ swears he could die like this.
———THE SECOND WEEK———
something changes in JJ.
it’s subtle at first.
his shoulders don’t sag as much. his eye bags aren’t as dark. he starts eating more, his appetite seemingly back from the dead.
he even cracks a joke or two—real jokes, not the bitter, half-hearted ones that barely counted.
the pogues notice.
because JJ has been drowning for months. and now, it’s like he just decided to be okay overnight.
they don’t question it—not to his face, at least.
but when JJ walks into the wreck one day, whistling under his breath, kie and pope exchange a glance.
“what the fuck?” kiara mutters under her breath, watching as JJ slides into the booth next to john b, snatching a fry off his plate like nothing ever happened. he strolled down the dock, a little more pep in his step as usual.
pope shakes his head, lowering his voice. “he looks… good?”
john b shrugs. “better than before, at least.”
kie frowns, watching JJ laugh at something dumb.
it’s so different from how he was just last week—from the ghost of himself he had become.
“what do you think happened?” she asks.
pope sighs, taking a sip of his drink. “i don’t know. but whatever it is… i just hope it stays like this.”
———THE THIRD WEEK———
JJ doesn’t care what the pogues think. all that matters is you. because at night, when he’s finally alone in the chateau, you are waiting for him.
JJ doesn’t question it anymore. he doesn’t care how or why. you’re here. and fuck, he’s never letting you go again
it starts slow and sweet—the way it used to be.
JJ traces your features in the dim light, fingers ghosting over your cheeks, down your jaw, across your lips. he memorizes you again.
the way your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your forehead.
the way you shiver when he drags his fingers up your thighs.
the way you whimper when he whispers, “fuck, i missed you, pretty girl.”
his hands worship you. his lips leave soft, lingering kisses along your skin, his breath warm, his body so close to yours that it hurts.
when his his tongue finally licks are you clit, he doesn’t rush.
he moves slowly, teasingly, his tongue warm and devoted.
he listens for every gasp, every sigh, every way your body responds to him.
because it’s been too long.
and JJ is never wasting another second again.
and when you finish on his tongue, your hands tug at his hair, legs shaking around his head.
JJ just grins, kissing his way back up your body, pressing his forehead against yours.
he breathes you in.
you’re so real.
and that’s all that matters.
———THE FOURTH WEEK———
JJ is happy. for the first time in months, he feels like himself again. the weight in his chest is gone. the emptiness, the hollowness—gone.
the pogues are relieved—but are confused as fuck. because JJ doesn’t just wake up fine one day after losing the love of his life.
but here he is. laughing, making jokes, initiating conversations.
he’s JJ again.
and none of them know what the hell changed.
john b watches him from across the boat one afternoon, eyes narrowed.
“dude,” he finally says. “you gotta tell me—what’s up with you lately?”
JJ just smirks, leaning back, sunglasses perched on his nose.
“can’t a guy just be in a good mood?”
john b stares at him. “not when that guy was a walking corpse two weeks ago.”
JJ shrugs, biting back a grin. “maybe i just needed some time, man.”
john b squints, playfully. “orrr maybe you got a new girl.”
JJ pauses. his stomach twists. his grip on his beer tightens. because he does. he has you. but he can’t tell them that. he won’t.
instead, he just laughs, shaking his head. “something like that.”
john b eyes him suspiciously, but lets it go.
JJ exhales, turning his gaze toward the horizon.
because tonight, he gets to go home to you.
and that’s the only thing that matters.
———
it’s routine now. the second he steps into the chateau, you’re waiting for him.
JJ grins the moment he sees you, his body already relaxing, his heart thrumming with something warm, something real.
“missed you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his arms.
your hands slide around his waist, fingers bunching up his t-shirt, body pressing against his.
“missed you too,” you whisper, smiling against his skin.
some nights, it’s slow and sweet. JJ will pull you onto his lap, fingers tracing lazy circles against your thighs.
he’ll kiss you softly, slowly, letting his lips linger against yours. he’ll whisper sweet things in your ear, his voice low and rough.
“you’re so beautiful, baby.”
“i don’t know what i’d do if you never came back.”
some nights, he’ll just lay there, holding you, whispering about the future.
the things you’ll do together.
the places you’ll go.
as if you have forever.
other nights, it’s desperate. it’s needy.
it’s JJ pushing you against the mattress, pinning your wrists above your head.
it’s his dick slamming into your pussy until you’re trembling.
it’s your name falling from his lips over and over and over, like a fucking prayer.
it’s JJ losing himself in you, holding you so tight like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again.
like if he lets go, you’ll slip through his fingers.
like this is the only thing tethering him to reality.
and maybe it is.
maybe you are.
——————
the pogues weren’t supposed to come over today. JJ had everything perfect. two plates. two cups. two sets of silverware. your favorite show playing in the background, volume turned down low with the captions on, just the way you liked it. your nail polish was set out on the table, shades of pink and blue, because you always made him paint your nails and he was finally getting good at it.
everything was just right.
everything felt normal again.
until the front door swung open and the pogues walked in.
JJ turned from the kitchen, spatula in hand, a lazy grin on his face. “damn, y’all ever heard of knocking?”
no one answered.
they were all too busy staring.
JJ followed their line of vision, his smile twitching slightly as he realized what they were looking at.
the extra plate.
the extra cup.
the way the couch was slightly indented, like someone had been sitting there.
kie’s eyes landed on the coffee table. the open bottle of nail polish, the brush resting neatly on a napkin.
JJ shifted on his feet, suddenly hyperaware of how this might look from the outside.
to him, everything was normal.
to them?
it must have looked like a scene from a fucking horror movie.
john b was the first to break the silence. he gestured to the table, one brow raised. “got a girl over?”
JJ hesitated. it was one second. one second too long. because when he hesitated, he instinctively looked toward the top of the stairs, and you were there.
standing at the landing.
watching.
your expression was wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, your body tense like a deer caught in headlights.
JJ felt the panic rolling off of you in waves.
you knew. you knew exactly what was about to happen. you knew he was about to tell them.
and you didn’t want him to.
your head shook violently, your hair bouncing with the force of it, eyes pleading.
don’t do it, jj. don’t say it. don’t fucking ruin this.
JJ swallowed, forcing himself to look away from you, turning his attention back to the pogues with a slow grin spreading across his lips.
for the first time in weeks, he was about to tell them the truth.
they had no idea.
they had no fucking clue what had been happening in this house every night.
now, he could finally say it out loud.
JJ swallowed, forcing himself to look away from her, turning his attention back to his friends with a slow grin spreading across his lips.
for the first time in weeks, he was about to tell them the truth.
“guys,” he exhaled, his grin widening. “she’s here.”
the air thickened.
no one spoke.
no one moved.
it was pope who broke first, his voice slow, cautious. “…what?”
JJ let out a laugh, relieved. like he’d been waiting so long to say this, and now he finally could.
“she’s here,” he repeated, nodding, almost giddy. “she’s been here. this whole time.”
his friends didn’t share his enthusiasm. they were staring. not at him, but at each other. like they were silently deciding who would be the one to handle this.
kie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. john b shifted uncomfortably. pope rubbed his palms against his jeans.
JJ looked between them, his excitement dimming slightly. “what?” he laughed again, but it sounded off this time. “you guys don’t believe me?”
they didn’t respond. their silence was too loud. JJ’s stomach twisted. he suddenly felt like a kid trying to convince his parents there was a monster under his bed. like he was crazy.
like they already knew he was crazy.
john b sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “JJ…” His voice was careful, cautious, too careful. “she’s… she’s gone, man.”
JJ’s whole body locked up, his hands twitched at his sides.
“no.” his voice was firm, steady, confident. he shook his head, waving a hand toward the stairs. “she’s right here.”
they followed his gaze. and that’s when everything shattered. because when JJ looked back—she wasn’t there. the space where she had just been standing was empty. the landing was dark, lifeless, cold.
JJ’s breath caught in his throat. his smile faltered. he blinked. once. twice. three times. his chest grew tighter. his stomach sank.
“babe?” his voice came out small.
no response. JJ’s pulse roared in his ears. his hands curled into fists. this didn’t make sense. she was just here. he saw her. they saw him look at her. she was just fucking here.
he turned to them, suddenly frantic, desperate.
“she was just here,” he insisted, voice rising slightly.
no one said anything. they didn’t have to. their expressions said it all. they didn’t believe him. they thought he was insane.
JJ’s body went stiff.
the air felt too thick, suffocating, pressing against him like the walls were closing in. his throat closed up, his breathing quickened.
this wasn’t real. this wasn’t happening.
she was here. she had to be.
JJ turned violently, moving now, searching, yanking open doors, checking every corner.
“she’s here,” he kept saying. “she’s here.”
his voice grew louder, more frantic. he shoved open the bathroom door—empty. he ran to the hallway—empty.
his hands trembled, his chest aching, his vision swimming.
the pogues watched. they didn’t know what to do.
because JJ Maybank was unraveling in front of them. they had never seen him like this. never seen him this lost.
JJ spun back toward them, eyes wide, wild. “she’s fucking with me,” he said, voice frantic, unhinged.
he forced out a laugh. “she’s just hiding,” he assured them. assured himself.
kie flinched. john b exchanged a worried glance with pope. pope looked genuinely disturbed.
JJ’s breath hitched.
the walls felt like they were closing in. this wasn’t happening. this wasn’t real. he turned toward the stairs again, his throat burning. his heart clawing at his ribs.
“…babygirl, please,” he whispered.
silence. nothing. JJ’s fingers curled into his hair, gripping tightly.
his knees almost buckled. because if she was gone—if she was really gone—then that meant he was alone again.
and JJ couldn’t do it. he wouldn’t.
so he laughed. hysterical. sharp. broken.
his fingers dug into his skin.
he shook his head, muttering, “no, no, no, no.”
and for the first time in weeks—JJ Maybank felt completely and utterly alone.
a/n; hi! this is completely based on a why don’t we fanfic i read in middle school. i can’t find it anywhere :’D
summary: In the second installment of The Secrets One Keeps, a relaxing day on the pogue proves to be anything but, with your inner struggles getting the better of you and JJ hot on your tail.
jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader
warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, talks of suffocation ig? plz let me know if I've missed anything.
a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering I first wrote this like 3 years ago. Also, for those asking, I won't be doing a taglist for this fic bc I'm lazy and technologically deficient.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
You shouldn’t have been smoking, it made you feel uneasy, paranoid even.
You had found yourself on the pogue in the wake of Pope’s incessant bitching about how you had to make up for ditching them last night. The guilt had made you cave in. As he spoke, all that had flashed through your head was images of Rafe. You on top of Rafe, Rafe with his hands around your neck, the way Rafe’s hair felt between your fingers as you gripped on it when he got messy between your-
“Dude” Sarah’s voice snapped you out of your recurring thoughts.
You turned your head to her as you took a drag of the blunt JJ had rolled, "hmm?"
“I asked if you wanted a beer?”
You checked the time on your phone, 12pm. After enduring 3 hours on this floating nightmare, you decide you're probably deserving of one.
“uh yeah sure.” You took another hit, extending your arm to grab the cold bottle.
You bought the edge of the glass bottle up to your lips and took a swig, letting the liquid wash over your cotton mouth. A swig swiftly turning into a gulp as thirst suddenly became itself known to you. One gulp then turned to two and before you knew it the bottle dried out.
JJ eyed your every move, the feeling that had been bugging him since you got into the Twinkie that morning had now grown into full-blown concern. Your unusual behaviour was deafening with the sounds of alarm bells.
“Thirsty?” He spoke with furrowed brows, prompting Pope to chuckle though no joke had been intended.
Your eyes flickered towards JJ momentarily and instantly you knew what he was thinking. Anger disguised as adrenaline coursed through you.
“Sarah will you pass me another? Mines empty.” Defiance clear in your tone, causing a thick tension to settle over the boat.
“'s a bit it early to start chugging drinks isn’t it?” JJ speaks up again before Sarah has time to respond.
You scoffed as you turned to him once more, maintaining eye contact as you took a long drag from blunt. As you exhaled the smoke, the thick white cloud blurred his features.
“Sarah” you tried again.
You hear a small sigh as she hands you another bottle.
“Thank you” You took another swig at the bottle, hoping the liquid would force down the concoction of guilt and anger that swirled in your mouth.
“So like am I saying words out loud or is it just in my head?” JJ tried, at this point he just wanted a reaction out of you.
“You asked me to come here.” Your tone was snippy, as another burst of smoke entered your system.
“well my mistake clearly.” He was getting pissed off now, and you couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction it gave you. You knew it was unfair, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you just couldn’t help it.
Pope cleared his throat. “This is a whole lotta tension for such a little boat.” He tried to lighten the mood but his joke fell flat.
As you downed your second beer, you took another drag. “It is isn’t it?” You turned to him.
“Maybe you should have some of this JJ, it’ll help you relax.” You threw the blunt in his direction, letting it fall at his feet.
“What the hell crawled up your ass today?” JJ spat at you, picking up the blunt.
The mixture of alcohol and weed infected your system, your breathing became staggered as you suddenly became hyper aware of the layers clinging onto your body.
You don't answer. Instead choosing to stand up and remove your T-shirt. Rafe returned to your mind as you focused on the image of him mimicking your same actions. Your trousers were next to go. You pushed them down whilst picturing Rafe’s hands running down your legs.
Pope eyed Sarah and JJ who’s gaze were trained on you and your movements.
“Whatcha doing there bud?” Sarah asked watching you strip down to your underwear.
“I’m too hot” was all you said, stepping off the edge of the boat and letting yourself plunge into the cool water below you.
As you became completely submerged, you breathed out all of the air in your irritated lungs. Leaving you empty and heavy as you continued to sink. The muffled noises of the water hit against your head yet all you could hear was your thoughts racing.
As the need for air increased, the rush of thought slowed. You liked it. The weightlessness of your body, mixed with the numbing of all of your senses was peacefull. A welcome change from the overdrive your body had been running on for the past year.
You forced yourself to stay down there, pushing your physical boundaries. A split second before completely losing consiousness you emerged again, letting the air penetrate through your system and invade your insides as it worked to reboot your muscles before giving life again to the internal mayhem in your mind again.
You floated with your head above the surface and your back facing the pogues. You couldn’t find yourself to act remotely interested in what they thought about your little show.
JJ in turn felt as though he was slowly loosing his head. He felt dumbfounded because it wasn’t just your behaviour that was different, your entire demeanour and vibe was off and he failed to comprehend what could have happened in the span of 12 hours for you to return to him a complete different person.
Sarah could see the way he looked at you, he was hot on your tail and she panicked trying to divert his calculating eyes from you. “So” she spoke up loud enough so that you could hear and be part of the conversation should you wish to. “Theres a party at my house tonight.”
“Oh really?” JJ answered, evidently uninterested as he continued his stare down with the back of your head.
“Yeah Ward’s out of town with Rose and y'know Rafe, any opportunity he has to get shitfaced he’ll take it.” Relief washed over her as JJ’s eyes finally unglued from you.
At the mention of Rafe your ears perked up.
“Do you guys wanna come?” A devilish grin on her face evident as she spoke.
“A kook party? We wouldn't be welcome.” Pope answered for the three of you, prompting a scoff from Sarah.
“It’s my house too, plus I already threatened Rafe to let me invite you guys. I told him I’d snitch on him otherwise.” She shrugged.
“I’m sure he loved that” JJ added, amused at the thought of antagonising the Cameron boy.
“Well what did he say?” Three pairs of eyes turned to you as you finally spoke up from the water, now facing the boat again.
JJ couldnt help the face that your question caused him to pull. Why did you suddenly care about what Rafe Cameron had to say? Sarah already said they could go so why did it even matter?
“He said whatever as long we stay away from him.” Her answer caused Pope and JJ to roll their eyes. It had been somewhat of a lie though.
Because what Rafe had really said when Sarah had threatened him was, “whatever just stay away from us, and why don't you go ahead and bring that sexy little friend of yours.”
To which Sarah had replied with, “We wouldn’t want to hang out with you and your classist friends anyway. Also, Kiara’s with JJ, and Y/N wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole so.” Unkowing of the situation between you and Rafe.
Looking back at it now, Rafe’s coy response of “we’ll see” suddenly made much more sense to her as she shuddered slightly in disgust.
“Can’t we take a night off? I mean don’t you guys think we’ve been going a little extra hard recently?” Pope tried to reason as you swam back up towards the boat, forcing yourself on board again.
“I’ll be there.” You interjected as the water ran down your body, soaking the deck of the hms.
“we all will be.” JJ fired back, a confusing swirl of concern and anger towards your attitude fought for dominance within his head.
You ignored him once more and lay back on the sodden deck, letting your persistant introspection rest as the blanket that was intoxication comforted you. You looked up at the clouds and the weighlessness returned. Before you knew it, he sounds of Pope and Sarah chatting drifted away with the soft waves that carried the boat. You lost grip on consciousness as the sun lulled you to sleep.
Around half an hour went by before JJ spoke up. “hey" he double checked you were definitely asleep.
He took your silence as confirmation before turning to the other two. “Y'all saw that right?”
“Saw what?” Sarah played dumb even though he she knew exactly what he was referring to.
“the way she was acting” He whisper shouted, confused as to why no one else seemed remotely worried. “It was like she hated us.” He spoke with the tone of a wounded man.
“Yeah… us.” Pope muttered under his breath.
“I think she’s just tired J, she uh- she had a long night.” Sarah stiffled what had been something between a laugh and a groan.
“Nah guys look- I know her, that wasn’t normal.” JJ didn’t ease up.
“We all know her.” Pope jumped on the defensive.
“c’mon dude it’s not just me, somethings obviously wrong”
At this point Sarah wished for anything to distract him, because as much as JJ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to academic performance, he most certainly wasn’t dumb. And he definitely knew what he was talking about when it came to you.
“Maybe It’s.. you know..” Pope waggled his eyebrows. “Her time…” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “of- of the month?”
“Nice Pope.” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“’s not that. Guys look listen to me somethings definitely wr-“ the ringing of his phone interrupted JJ mid sentence. Saved by the bell. Literally.
JJ grabbed his phone and his frown eased up slightly as he looked at the caller ID.
“Hey baby” his tone made it seem like whatever he had been worrying about softened it’s grip on him at the sound of her voice. “Uh huh, okay give us ten and we’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Kie?” Sarah asked, praying he wouldn’t resume his ramble.
“Yeah she’s finished up at the wreck, wants us to go get her.” And with that the subject was dropped.
—————————————————————————
The late afternoon breeze stroked you awake as you suddenly became aware of the voices around you.
Your eyes fluttered open and you stirred where you lay, your body stiff from the 4 hour positioning against the hard wood of the hms. You slowly sat yourself up and threw your T-shirt back on your body before turning back to glance at the now complete group of pogues. Fuck how long had you been out for.
You let your eyes linger on Kiara and JJ a couple of seconds longer than everybody else. He laughed carelessly pulling her tighter against his side. You groaned out quietly and reached for your phone, typing out that damned name.
To Rafe: Having a party and you didn’t invite me? I’m almost offended.
Almost instantly a reply came through.
Miss me already?
You rolled your eyes as he sent you another.
Figured Sarah would open her big mouth, better see you tonight ;)
“Morning Camper.” John B spoke up. You turned around to face him, every single one of them with their attention on you.
“Hey can you take me home?” You directed at no one in particular.
“You don’t wanna stay and hang out?” Kie asked, she wanted to reach you, connect with you.
“I just want to go home” You were irritated and your head hurt, you were certainly in no mood for any of this.
John B was next to try “C’mon man we haven’t all hung out like this in ag-“
“Fuck just take me home” You lashed out. “please” You added in an attempt to soften the blow.
Silence fell over the pogues as John B lifted himself up and steered the boat towards the direction of your house.
As you hopped down you muttered a joyless goodbye to everyone.
“Wait! I’ll walk you in.” JJ peeled himself away from Kiara and followed behind you, slightly speeding as you hadn’t bothered to stop and wait.
He walked beside you, waiting until you were both out of hearing distance from the others.
“why are you angry?” He spoke up.
“I’m not angry.” You tried to walk faster but a calloused hand stopped you.
“Stop. Just stop.” You heard the desperation in his voice as he turned you around to face him. “can you just talk to me? Look whatever I did to piss you off I’m sorry. You just- you were fine yesterday and now all of a sudden you hate us-“
“Stop JJ” You just wanted it to stop. The consequence of your actions pounding down on you with every word that left his mouth.
“Stop what?!” He couldn’t help but shake you.
“Talking! Stop talking!” You shoved him forcefully off of you.
“The hell's wrong with you?! dude I’m worried about you. Today’s just been so weird.” His fingers shoved themselves through his hair, a nervous habit of his.
The familiar lump in your throat began to form at the sight of your best friend.
“I’m tired J.” It wasn’t a lie, you really were fucking exhausted. You were tired of lying, tired of watching the boy you loved love someone else, tired of trudging through your life heartbroken.
“You’re lying.” He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Why you lyin' to me?”
“JJ. I’m. Tired.” You screwed your eyes shut as your breathing began to quicken “I’m not lying I’m just-“
“Okay alright.” His embrace cut you off. “I believe you.” He hated seeing you upset. Having known you practically his whole life, he also knew that nothing ever got resolved when you got like this, so he dropped the subject.
You almost broke down then and there, using everything you had in you to move your arms around him, hugging him back.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the meaning behind your words far greater than he could realise.
“Hey it’s okay, we all have off days right?” He let go of you and gave you a small smile.
“Right.” Your remained court and quiet.
“I’ll see you tonight. Go rest for a bit okay?”
You nodded and began to walk away before his voice stopped you once more.
“Yo” You turned to see that he had shoved his hands in pockets. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right?” He hated that he even had to ask.
“Mhm, course” You lied straight through your teeth before turning and walking away from him uninterrupted. You knew that as soon and as your bedroom door closed behind you, you’d sink down into a pit of despair and loathing.
Whilst the resolution had given him a little comfort, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t the end of it.
Perhaps he should have left things alone, maybe then things wouldn’t have escalated to extent that they were about to.
So as he watched you walk away, JJ stood there unknowing of what was to come. Unknowing of the way things were about to change between you forever.
❥ still turns his head whenever he hears your name, even if it’s not about you. it’s instinct. his heart drops for a second every time, like maybe you’ll be there, like maybe you’ll look at him the way you used to.
❥ keeps your favorite snacks in his cabinets out of habit. tells himself he should just throw them out, but then he sees them and remembers how happy you looked munching on them, sitting cross-legged on his bed. so they stay.
❥ scrolls through old pictures of you on his phone when he’s alone, finger hovering over the ‘delete’ button, but he never presses it. tells himself he’ll do it tomorrow. but tomorrow comes, and he still can’t.
❥ hears a song that reminds him of you and suddenly everything stings, his chest, his throat, the backs of his eyes. he used to sing along, off-key and obnoxious, just to make you laugh. now it just reminds him of what he lost.
❥ drinks a little too much, parties a little too hard, kisses a few too many girls who aren’t you. he tells himself it’s fine, that he’s fine, but his hands don’t linger, his lips don’t taste, and he never lets them stay the night.
❥ refuses to admit he misses you, but his body betrays him. he still dreams about you. about your hands in his hair, your voice teasing in his ear, your sleepy mumbles when you used to roll over in his bed. wakes up reaching for you, only to be met with empty sheets.
❥ would take you back in a heartbeat if you asked. but he won’t say it first. he doesn’t think he deserves to.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I reblogged this last month, tagged it, and said “might as well see if it works.” I used this video as a reference to find all the forms that i needed (which is A LOT, especially if you’re a dependent) and sent them through the mail, not really allowing myself to hope.
dude.
$2,714 of medical debt from my top surgery - gone. im shaking this was such a weight on me for 2 years and it fucking worked. what the fuck.
Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into hard drugs, but they’re unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.
Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence
Part two
Part One:
You'd been on the edge for a while now. The relapse should've been seen from a mile off. Your uncharacteristic quietness, the way you'd get lost in your thoughts, the distant look in your eyes. Everyone could tell that something was up, but even when they questioned you about it you had no real answers to give - uncertain yourself of what was making you feel so withdrawn.
When you'd first moved to OBX with your busy mum, you'd instantly found a group of friends - a really good group of friends - the Pogues. And they'd been quick to suss out that you were hiding things - particularly JJ. You were practically never sober, for starters, and though he wasn't either, you had a way of taking it to the next level. This was fun most of the time, but sometimes it got to a level that was concerning - even to the most problematic Pogue on the island. Whenever he'd pushed you for answers, trying to figure out what exactly you were self medicating for, you got extremely annoyed and so he never really got a straight answer. You couldn't bare to be so vulnerable with anyone - let alone the boy you'd started to develop feelings for - so you remained somewhat of a mystery.
Sure, there had been nights when you'd shared a bed - both of you very drunk. You'd convince yourself that maybe JJ liked you, maybe the sex meant more to him than just sex, but then when he'd continue to treat you like just a friend the morning after, your hopes would be crushed. It’s not like you ever gave him any reason to think that the sex was anything other than casual, but that was because you didn’t want him to be able to reject you. And besides, could he not tell that you wanted more? Kiera could and she wasn’t even in the bedroom.
Then the overdose happened. The Pogue's had suspected that you'd been taking something other than just alcohol for a while. The night that you'd almost died at the Chateau their suspicions became a painful fact. You'd taken a few too many pills - benzodiazepines to be exact - and though you'd known that you were reaching a point of no return, after hearing all about the gorgeous touron that JJ had been obsessed with, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.
That night had been awful for everyone, and you'd ended up tearfully promising that you would get clean after that, unable to bear the hurt on the Pogue's faces. So you'd been almost a year clean now, blossoming into a new person that the Pogue's liked even more than the old you. Yours and JJ's relationship remained just as complicated though - still having the occasional hookup but largely seeming as if you were just friends. Now that you weren't on pills and you could actually fully remember the sex, it hurt even more in the morning after. Still, you continued, desperate to feel wanted even if it was just for a night.
You hadn't realised how much this routine was actually bothering you until in a night similar to the one you'd overdosed on, JJ had been making out with another gorgeous touron.
*Your POV*
I'd watched jealously from across the party, ignoring the sound of Kie in my ear telling me that "I was much prettier than that touron."
I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew it was a lie, and so in a split second decision, I told Kie that I was going to go home. "I'm going to have an early one." I said, knowing it was a lie. "I'll see you tomorrow."
In that split second decision, I'd decided that all of my progress didn't matter if I still felt this worthless. What was the point in being clean if it meant that I wanted to die? JJ's insistence had been one of the things that had motivated me to stay away from the pills, but he hadn't been interested in me for a while now. He hadn't even asked me for a fuck. Had he grown bored of me? Or maybe I had gotten uglier without realising it. Maybe I had put on some weight or he didn't like my haircut. Maybe he’d developed feelings for a different girl - a better girl.
Kie nodded worriedly, clearly not sure whether to believe me or not. I hadn't even directly confessed to her that I liked JJ, she was just the only one in the group who wasn't too stupid to see it.
"Okay. Be safe." She smiled, pulling me into a hug, and though I felt bad, I still hopped on my bike and headed straight to Barry's as soon as the coast was clear.
Kie would be devastated if she'd known where I was actually going. So would John B, and Pope, and maybe even JJ, but they would forgive me quicker than her. At least, I thought that they would.
Blurred memories of the night I'd overdosed filled my mind; the sound of shouting, someone's fingers down my throat, a muffled sob, flashing lights. A shiver of shame ran down my spine as I struggled to push the images from my mind.
The ride to Barry's was short, though it felt like a lifetime as all the things I hated about myself bounced around in my head like a torturous broken record. Of course JJ didn't want to be with me. I wasn't beautiful enough. I wasn't cool enough. I wasn't good enough. I would just continue to be his slutty friend that he could stick it in whenever it was convenient for him, and he didn't even seem to want that anymore. The thought made me even more ashamed, remembering all the times I'd let him fuck me, hoping that he'd found me beautiful, thinking that maybe he liked me, just to realise in the morning that I was easy to him.
Yet I knew, that if he were to approach me in that moment and ask for a fuck, I wouldn't say no. I wanted to be wanted so badly, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, and the feeling was unbearable. It ate me up inside, making my chest tight and my eyes water. I was quick to blink any dampness away from my eyes though, focused instead on the high that I would soon have - the comfortable numbness that it would bring me. My clean streak meant nothing, a stupid concept when compared to the internal anguish I felt. From my low self esteem to my repressed trauma, I had no fight left in the battle to stay clean. Sure, the Pogue's would be upset if they found out, but I wouldn't let them find out. I would keep it low-key, unlike I did before.
When I knocked on Barry's door, I was relieved that he was the one to answer and the house was seemingly empty, meaning I only had to speak to him. His friends were annoying, and though I didn't particularly like Barry, I found him funny sometimes.
"Well shit, Y/N. Been a while." He grinned.
"Yeahh. Well I'm back." I said with a mock smile.
"Come inside."
The transaction had soon been completed; a pot of pills in my hand and some cash in Barry's. I leant back into the sofa and took one immediately, swallowing it down with a beer handed to me by him.
"Bad night?" He questioned with an amused scoff.
"Something like that." I answered. "How about you? Place ain't usually this empty on a Friday."
"Want my own company sometimes. That a crime?"
"No. Just strange is all." I murmured, taking another swig from the beer.
Paired with my already drunkenness, the feeling of the pill was starting to hit - hard and strong - and I felt my body slump comfortably into the sofa. My head felt light whilst the rest of my body felt heavy, creating a strange, cosy sensation. It was a feeling I'd missed.
"Well what happened with you, party princess?" He scoffed, cracking open a beer for himself.
I let out a light chuckle at the question, now feeling as if it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
"Dumb shit."
"You looked pretty upset when I opened the door. Boyfriend troubles?"
I raised my eyebrows in mock offence.
"Why would I have a boyfriend?" I questioned with a laugh "Who'd you hear that from?"
Barry laughed too.
"Cus a girl like you - you're pretty. I'm surprised some Kook hasn't swiped you up."
I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.
"Well thanks I guess."
I thought about having sex with Barry in that moment, just to hear him call me pretty again. But I decided against it, slightly sickened by the idea, and pulled myself off the sofa.
"I should go, see you around?"
"You sure you can ride that thing safely?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine." I chuckled before heading out the door and throwing myself back onto my bike.
The ride home was perilous, and though I did almost crash a few times, my body went into autopilot and I was soon safely in my bed, mind too numb to pick myself apart for the first night in a while.
For the next week I was able to keep the pill-taking to a minimum, only popping two a day at most. I only did it to make the thoughts stop - to bring on the comfortable numbness so that I could actually bare to be awake. So that I could actually bare to be around my friends.
I'd always managed to keep my feelings for JJ locked up and manageable, but for some reason seeing him with that touron had bothered me in ways I hadn't been bothered before. Perhaps it was because she was so gorgeous, or maybe it was how pleased JJ looked to have pulled her. Either way, it just reinforced to me how worthless I was. He brought her up one day at the Chateau and it instantly made me feel hot with annoyance.
"That touron from the other night just texted me, should I go there again?" He said with a proud smirk, looking around the room.
I rolled my eyes and picked up the half smoked blunt from the ashtray, relighting it and sucking on it in hopes that it would make my jealousy fade.
"Didn't you steal like a hundred dollars from her purse?" Pope scoffed, eyes focused on the television. Adventure Time was playing with the volume on low, and both Pope and Kie seemed more interested in it than the conversation that JJ and John B had been having. I'd been drifting lazily between the two, too high to properly contribute to anything, but now JJ had my full attention.
"Yeah. Obviously didn't notice though. Girl had too much cash for her own good." He mused, eyes on his phone screen. "Ooh! And guess what she just sent me."
"Tit pic?" John B asked, a grin crawling onto his lips.
"Tit pic." JJ confirmed, chucking his phone over to John B.
"Nice." He chuckled, looking at the phone before chucking it back to JJ.
"You guys are disgusting." Kie scoffed. "I mean like really JJ? Did that girl send you that picture for you to show your friend? You have no respect for women sometimes."
"I respect women very much, actually Kie. I respect you and Y/N. I respect your mums and Pope's mum. I just don't respect easy, spoiled touron's like her." He said defensively, and I loudly scoffed at that. He didn't respect me.
"What? You think I don't respect women too?" He asked me with furrowed brows, crossing his arms.
He was sat across the room from me; myself, Kie and Pope spread out across the sofa whilst him and John B sat in chairs. I looked him up and down, pleased that there was no lump in my throat to swallow, no butterflies in my stomach to squash and no loving gaze to hide.
“Sure, you really respect women JJ. Whatever you say.”
He looked surprised by that response, probably expecting me to get defensive, then continued on a rant about how he wasn’t misogynistic. Kie argued with him for a little bit, and John B and Pope eventually joined in too. Usually I also would’ve joined, just for the amusement of it all, but no words came to my mind. Instead I just watched, chuckling at the occasional insult being thrown and smoking my blunt.
Two weeks later and I’d upped the dose to at least four pills a day. The thoughts had gotten harder to crush, growing a tolerance. Much to my relief though, none of the Pogue’s seemed to suspect anything.
It was a hot day and we’d decided to go swimming, using the inner ring of a tire as a floaty - which we all fought over.
“I stole the tire, so I should get it!” JJ proclaimed, and though he was right, I wanted the ring.
“Okay well if you’re not a woman hater, prove it by letting me and Kie have the ring!” I grinned.
“Yeah! Prove it!” Kie added, high-fiving me.
JJ groaned and rolled his eyes, but eventually gave in with a slight smirk to me.
“Okay fine - but we’re sharing it!”
I giggled at his childish nature, feeling the butterflies rise up in my stomach that I’d been managing so well to suppress. The second that I realised what I was feeling, I knew that I needed to take another pill.
“I’m gonna go pee. Don’t wait for me.” I said, heading back indoors.
Once I was in the bathroom, I dug through my bag to find the orange pot, irritated when I realised that I didn’t have a lot left. I’d have to go back to Barry’s soon. That was annoying. I swallowed one of the pills with some water from the sink and looked at myself in the mirror before heading back out. I looked tired and unattractive and I sighed at that, thinking of how good the girl that JJ had been dancing with at the boneyard this week looked.
I reached into the fridge and took myself out a beer, cracking it open and downing half of it before stepping out of the kitchen. I didn’t expect to see JJ stood on the porch waiting for me, a slight furrow to his brow. I purposely hadn’t been alone with him in weeks and it sent a pang of anxiety into my chest.
“Starting this early? Haven’t seen you do that in a while. You feeling alright?” He asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem.. different.” He was wording himself carefully, I could tell, which was very out of character for him. What could he possibly want from me?
“I’m just tired.” I said with a huff and tried to walk past him.
He suddenly put his hands on my waist, which was exposed in a bikini, holding me still. At the initial contact, I felt electrified, but I was quickly reminded of what I had missed - and the reasons why. I worried that my flesh felt too squishy under his fingers, that there was too much of it, or that the dip of my waist wasn’t defined enough. Compared to that touron I probably felt like a whale.
“What’s going on Y/N? Are you mad at me?” He asked, his eyes wide with concern, but I couldn’t think about his words - only the crippling self hatred his hand on my waist was making me feel.
I stepped backwards so that he was no longer touching me, something that only seemed to deepen the crease between his eyebrows, and blinked a couple of times before I could speak.
“I’m, uh- I’m going to grab a shirt.”
And with that I paced back inside, finishing the beer and pulling one of John B’s oversized vests over my bikini. The pill hadn’t kicked in yet and I could still see JJ stood waiting on the porch so I decided to go into the bathroom and take another. Then I grabbed another beer from the fridge and downed it, relieved when I felt the relaxing effects kick in almost immediately.
“Why are you downing beer? Since when do you do that?” JJ’s voice from behind me made me jump, his face critical.
“I’m just having a good time.” I smiled at him.
“Really? Because you don’t look like you’re having a good time. You look miserable, Y/N.”
Was it that easy to see through my charade? It irritated me that he cared now when he should’ve cared a couple of weeks ago. Now it was too late.
I huffed and shook my head, managing to walk past him this time undisrupted and lead the way to the water.
“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go.”
He didn’t bother me for the inflatable ring at all. In fact, he didn’t speak to me for hours after that. I wasn’t bothered by it though, the mix of booze and benzos that had finally hit making me entirely unfazed by everything. The comfortable numbness that I craved so badly.
I lay floating in the ring for what felt like hours, my eyes closed as I felt the waves move me freely around. The water was so cold compared to the beaming sun, but the two extremes together made me feel more relaxed than I had been in a while. Maybe I had fallen asleep, I wasn’t too sure, but when someone was suddenly directly next to me, interfering with the natural direction of the waves, I jumped up at their presence.
“What are you thinking about?”
It was Kie, her tone lighthearted though her face was concerned.
“Not much. The sound of the water mostly. You?” I answered truthfully.
“Honestly, right now I’m thinking about you.”
“Why? You into me or something?” I teased, not expecting her tone to change to match her face.
“No Y/N I’m serious. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since that party with the blonde touron.”
Kie was catching on, which was bad. It wouldn’t take her much to figure out what was really happening, so I had to come up with a lie, or maybe not a lie but a distraction.
“Yeah. Okay. I’m sad about JJ… But it doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.” I confessed, relieved when I saw the stress in Kie’s face relax.
“He’s a total idiot. You can do better than him anyway.” She said with exasperation, stroking my hair.
“No I can’t.” I laughed. “But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Kie sighed.
“I wish you weren’t so harsh on yourself. If you could see what other people could see you wouldn’t be.”
I smiled at her, feeling appreciation for the girl buzz through me.
“Love ya Kie.”
She smiled too, but it was weaker than usual.
“Love you too… Now give me the floatie.”
When it got dark some hours later we all piled back into the Chateau and put on a movie, squeezing onto the couch. I sat on the edge and much to my displeasure, JJ sat next to me. That displeasure only lasted a second though before it was washed over by a tidal wave of carelessness, and I was able to relax my body against his like he was anyone - not the most problematic Pogue on the island.
The movie went on for a while until JJ shifted positions, wrapping his arm around me and placing his hand on my leg.
This had been a fairly standard position for us, his fingers creeping up my thigh in the darkness of the room and our friends none the wiser. Now it felt different though, and instead of being excited by it I was annoyed. Was I only good enough to touch in secret? Was he touching me now just because I was there and it was something to do? Could he only bare to touch me when he was drunk? I needed to take another pill.
With a wobble, I flicked JJ’s hands from me and pushed myself up, grabbing my handbag and heading to the bathroom. Pope and Kie had passed out on top of each other and John B was too engrossed in the movie to look up. So when I heard a knock on the bathroom door, I knew who it was before it even opened.
“I didn’t say you could come in. I could’ve been taking a shit.” I teased.
JJ’s stoney face didn’t offer a crack of amusement as he stepped closer to me.
“What’s going on with you? It’s like you can’t stand to be around me. Have I done something?”
“No. Everything is fine.” I answered with a fake smile.
He didn’t buy it, becoming visibly annoyed.
“You’re so full of shit Y/N. Don’t try to play dumb with me right now. I know you’re pissed off about something.”
“Why do I have to be pissed off about something?” I said combatively, crossing my arms.
“Because you’re acting like my touch is gonna make you sick or something and you clearly can’t stand to be around me! Is this because of that tit pic I showed John B? I don’t get it. Are you jealous or something? Or do you just think I’m a sexist pig too?”
“My world doesn’t revolve around you. Have you ever considered that I just stopped giving a shit about what you do?”
I usually felt horrible about lying to my friends, but looking at his beautiful face, thinking of how he didn’t want me, the lie came out easily. He clearly didn’t buy it though.
“Oh really? Is that why you don’t want to fuck anymore? Because you stopped giving a shit about me? Yeah right.” He scoffed and I felt my face start to angrily heat up. “What the fuck is going on? Did someone tell you some bullshit about me? Do you have a boyfriend now or something?”
I scoffed right back at him, widening my eyes in disbelief.
“Would that make you jealous? If I had a boyfriend?”
“Do you or do you not?” He demanded with gritted teeth.
I didn’t answer for a moment, enjoying the stressed expression on his usually uncaring face. Did he really care if I had a boyfriend? Surely not in any way that mattered. Just in some stupid male ego way. I sighed at that and uncrossed my arms as I answered.
“Obviously not. Who would want to be with me? Don’t be stupid, JJ. Now what did you come in here for?”
He looked at me incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I didn’t understand why he seemed so stressed for and it was irritating to me.
“For this conversation, right now! What do you think I came in here for?” He said exasperatedly and I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t know but can you leave? I need to pee.”
“No, I can’t leave until I know what the fuck is going on with you. Jesus! How much have you had to drink?”
Had I been slurring? I couldn’t tell.
“Not enough for this.” I tutted bitterly.
He sucked in his lips and took a deep breath, eyeing me like he was trying to work something out.
“Wait, look at me straight for a second.” He muttered, reaching his hand out to touch my face, angrily repeating himself when I questioned why.
His thumb stroked over my bottom lip and I straightened my back, trying to match his stare but unable to stand completely still. He hadn’t looked at me with such intrigue in a long time, and I was glad I was so high or else I would’ve completely submitted under his blue gaze. His next words instantly shattered any fantasies that could’ve been playing in my head though, instead filling me with unreasonable rage.
“You’re high aren’t you?”
I knew it wasn’t a question. The steely look in JJ’s eyes and his flared nostrils made it abundantly clear that he’d already figured out the answer for himself. But I couldn’t let him think he was right.
“I mean yeah, I’ve smoked a lot today, you have too-”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” He hissed, dropping his hand from my face. “I can’t fucking believe you. This is why you’ve been acting weird. I should’ve known.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled “You’re overreacting, I’m just drunk” to which he quickly shot back “Oh yeah? Why are your pupils the size of mars then?”
“They’re not.” I felt my footing slip slightly as I lied, and I had to quickly lean against the wall to stop myself from falling.
“And now you’re just lying to my face. Nice one Y/N. How long had you been clean? A year, almost?”
I thought of the hours that he’d spent with me when I’d first gotten sober; looking after me when I was being sick, bringing around food, washing my hair. I’d felt so loved. I’d felt like there was no reason for me to ever pick up a benzo again.
The betrayal in his voice told me that that would never be happening again. With a huff, I picked up my bag from the side and shoved past the blonde, gasping when he grabbed my arm.
“Where are you trying to go now?” He laughed humourlessly.
“Get off me, JJ. I’m going home.”
“What because you’ve been caught out?”
“No. Because you’re being a dick.”
He wouldn’t loosen his grip on my arm despite my desperate pulling and so I started to speak louder, hoping someone would intervene and give me a chance to slip out.
“Get off me!”
“I’m not letting you go.” He said with gritted teeth, tightening his grip. “What have you taken?”
“Get the fuck off me!” I repeated louder, relieved when John B appeared in the doorway.
“What the hell is going on?” He looked between us with a concerned expression and JJ loosened his grip.
“She’s on fucking drugs again, John B.” JJ hissed and though I wanted to argue and try to prove him wrong, I quickly slipped out of the bathroom and paced out of the house, ignoring JJ’s shouts from behind me.
“What the fuck is going on Y/N?”
“Do you just not give a shit about yourself? About your friends?”
“How could you do this? You were clean for so long.”
His words stung, and though I rationally knew he was right, I was too ashamed to feel anything other than anger and embarrassment. The Pogue’s would hate me now, and rightfully so.
I understood why JJ was so annoyed. I’d listened to him seethe about his dad, about how he was an abusive drug addict - but yet, when the blonde came home and he was passed out on the sofa, JJ still always checked if he was breathing. I’d seen the bruises, and met the man who left them, begrudgingly shook his hand and tried to forget what he’d done with them. Was I reminding JJ of that? Was I like his piece of shit father?
In a rush, I picked up my bike and went to get on it but instantly fell over, dropping the bike as I did.
“You’re gonna ride home like this? Seriously?” JJ’s voice came from behind me, loud and aggressive.
I struggled to pick my bike back up, almost falling over it again, and his hands were suddenly on top of mine, holding the handles and stopping me from going. John B was quick behind him.
“Are you really on drugs, Y/N?” John B questioned, eyes wide.
“I’m just drunk.” I hissed, trying to pull the bike out of JJ’s grip.
“Right, she says she’s just drunk, let her go JJ.” John B said harshly but JJ scoffed.
“She’s lying! Look at her! She can’t even walk properly!”
Then he turned to me, his voice suddenly pleading and face full of pain. It caught me off guard and I felt another pang of guilt ripple through my body, tears attempting to escape my eyes but being successfully pushed back by the Xanax.
“What have you taken, Y/N? Please don’t lie to me. I know you’ve taken something.”
I wanted to tell him the truth so bad. The whole truth. I wanted to break down and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him I loved him and that I would get clean again.
But I couldn’t do it.
There was no point.
I’d ruined everything now anyway.
“I’m just drunk. Leave me alone.” I slurred and tried to pull the bike from his grip again.
It didn’t work. I fell backwards onto the ground, landing on my butt with a groan. I laughed at my fall instinctively, forgetting the situation I was in for a second, but when I looked up and saw my friend’s distressed faces my laughing stopped. Even John B looked suspicious now, his eyes snapping from mine to JJ’s. He bent down and pulled me up with ease, though he huffed after he’d done it.
“Y/N, can we look in your bag?”
My heart leapt into my throat and I quickly jumped to defence.
“No way you fucking pervs. Let me go home.”
He turned to JJ with an straight face and both of them exchanged a short look before looking back at me.
That was it. He believed JJ. He knew.
“I’m not letting you ride home. I’ll drive you.”
His voice had been so monotone, so void of any real offering, that it caught me off guard. He was angry. I looked at JJ. He was angry too.
“N-No. I’m fine. I can ride-”
“I’m fucking driving you home, Y/N. Get in the Twinkie.” John B cut me off sharply and I jumped backwards, almost falling again until he caught me.
They both looked so disappointed and I was so ashamed at that point that all I could do was nod, following him silently to the van. JJ said nothing and I didn’t dare look back to see if he was looking, though I felt that I could feel his stare on the back of my head. This was the worst thing that could’ve happened. Why did I have to take it so far? Why did I have to lie to their faces like that?
The short drive back to mine was agonisingly silent, all John B said was “Look after yourself” before I stepped out of the van.
My voice got caught in my throat and all I could force out was “Y-Yeah” before closing the door and stumbling towards my house.
Had I destroyed my friendship with the Pogues? It certainly felt like I had.
origamiaround
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
kianamaiart
pixelskylines
gummygunk
