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maybank5 · 6 months ago

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𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭)

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ you and jj have never gotten along; sworn enemies since childhood. so why is then, when he shows up with bruises, you want to burn the entire world down for this boy?

tags and such: abuse, mentions of abuse, fluff, comfort, walks on the beach, mutual crushes, jj calling you 'mama'

a/n ⤜ needing some comfort jj fics in my life right now, and i'm sure i'm not alone in that. enjoy! also this was supposed to just be a little drabble, but she kinda took on a life of her own. not complaining though lol

song inspo ⤜ any kyla la grange song

word count ⤜ 4k+

JJ Maybank - the bane of your existence. Ever since he had trampled your sandcastle on the playground back when you were seven, you couldn't stand him. And one trampled sandcastle had set the stage for ten years of torment at the hands of this boy. He seemed to revel in making your life miserable. He wouldn't be JJ Maybank if he wasn't pulling your hair or teasing you or shoulder-checking you in the hallway. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't put your hands on your hips and glare at him, shouting after him a scolding, "Oh grow up!" that was only ever met with that laugh of his that seemed to bounce of the cinderblock walls of the school halls.

You had come to realize sometime around sophomore year that you and JJ Maybank were destined to be enemies. You found yourself looking forward to the school day, to see just how he'd try to fuck with you, and to scold him and hear that damn laugh. Your friends couldn't understand it; why the two of you always seemed to seek each other out, despite your mutual hatred. "You wouldn't get it," you'd say with a shrug. JJ Maybank was your mortal enemy, but you honestly couldn't imagine your school day, your life, without him in it.

JJ is no stranger to a fight. He's always getting into something with the kooks from Figure Eight. It's not out of the norm for him to show up to school with a busted lip or black eye. He always shrugs it off, brags about how the other guy "looks much worse." You roll your eyes and shake your head. He's never seriously hurt though, so you don't worry too much. It's not like you lose sleep over JJ Maybank. Still, you can't help the relief you feel that shoots through you like a drug whenever he laughs off the bruises or black eyes.

But today is different. Yesterday, JJ wasn't in school. Not that unusual of an occurrence. But today, JJ shows up to school with his face a galaxy of purples and yellows. Your heart sinks to your stomach as if weighted with a lead anchor. This wasn't just the result of a spat between a Pogue and a Kook. He looked like he'd been jumped and you spend the entire morning following him with your eyes. You want to go over and check on him, press your palm to his cheek, and ask what happened, make sure he's okay. But that's not you and JJ. Instead, you hug your books tighter to your chest and follow him down the halls with your gaze. All you want to do is run after him, check on him. It makes no sense. You know he probably just got in another fight. JJ was always stirring up some type of trouble. But he didn't have the usual laugh or smile this time. His eyes looked almost hallow, broken. It made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You could barely focus in class, all your thoughts drifting to JJ Maybank and those haunting bruises. They were like ghosts in your head.

At the end of the day, JJ was swinging his backpack onto his shoulder with a wince, about to hop into his truck with you surprised yourself. Instead of catching a ride with your friend Sarah, you find yourself running across the parking lot to his beat up, rusted old truck.

"JJ!" You call.

His head whips around, brows furrow when he sees you. Then, that lazy smirk spreads painfully across the snagged and scabbed lip, "Y/N," he says in that lazy, bemused kind of way of his, that let's you know you're in for something, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

You want to scold him like you would normally. Instead, you freeze. You don't know what to say that doesn't include some sort of spat or dig. Instead, all you want to do is pull him close to you and hold him in your arms and it makes no damn sense.

"You weren't in school yesterday," you settle for saying.

"Astute observation, Sherlock."

Your stomach flips a little, excitedly like it does before a fight with JJ Maybank; like you were born for these little interactions. Instead, you take a breath and try your best to push through the wall he's putting up. "I just...I wanted to make sure you're okay?"

"When am I ever not okay?" JJ asks, pushing the blonde hair off his forehead with a practiced flick of his hand.

You sigh. He's deflecting. Of course he is. When does JJ Maybank ever take anything seriously. You don't know why it bothers you so much, but you need him to know. You need him to know that you care, that you're in his corner. You'd fight against him a thousand times over, but when he shows up looking like this, all you want to do is fight at his side and burn down the world for him. You know it doesn't make sense, but when did anything regarding JJ Maybank make sense.

You decide to meet him where he's put you. "Just seen you prettier, that's all," you say with a shrug. If he wants to deflect and be snarky, you can do that too. If snark is his comfort zone, you can meet him there.

JJ tugs the corner of his bottom lip between those feline-like teeth of his. He's amused, and it makes you happy to know you made him smile. Or rather, JJ's version of a smile.

"You worried about me, darlin'?" He drawls.

"If someone roughs you up too badly, who do I have to fight with?" You ask, and JJ laughs. Your stomach dips with the weight of the butterflies that have filled it.

JJ pushing his hair back again, smirk still playing on his lip, "Don't worry, darlin', nothin' can stop me from fighting with you. It's my favorite part of my day."

You cross your arms, fighting the smile on your face as you shake your head. "You're impossible," you say.

"And you love it," he says. You don't realize right away that you don't deny it.

"So...need a ride?" He asks, glancing behind you as Sarah's car pulls from the parking lot. "Cause it looks like yours just left."

Sarah. She's always trying to get you two alone. For some reason, she has it in her head that all your fighting is just camouflaging your "real feelings." You think Sarah needs to stop reading so many fanfics in her free time.

"Of course," you sigh, "Remind me to give Sarah Cameron an earful when I get home."

JJ just chuckles and unlocks the truck, tossing his backpack in the backseat. "Get in," he says. You don't argue.

You toss your bag in the back next to his before joining him in the front seat. Sitting together on his bench seats of his old truck feels almost intimate. This is the closest you've ever been to JJ before, and it's happening when you're alone. Both your brain and stomach feel as if they're on rollercoasters.

JJ backs the truck out of the school parking lot. "So, where to, Y/L/N?"

You tell him your street and he nods. He rolls down his window and with practiced ease, takes out and lights a cigarette one handed. You try not to wrinkle your nose. This is his truck and he's being kind enough to give you a ride. You aren't going to be a pain about a little cigarette smoke.

JJ begins to drum his fingers on the wheel, his right knee is bouncing jitterijngly. The cigarette between his fingers is doing nothing to calm his nerves, and you fight the urge to rest your hand on his knee.

"So," you say after a beat, "You gonna tell me about the sick fight you got in that led to....that," you wave a hand in his general direction.

JJ takes a drag of the cigarette, the air in the truck suddenly feeling thicker. "Not much too tell. Mouthed off, the usual."

You nod, "We both know that mouth of yours is gonna get you in some type of trouble one day."

JJ smirks, but it doesn't quite reach his eye, "Yeah," another drag of the cigarette, "But fuck, I wish hadn't been so drunk out of his mind to forget he was wearing that damn class ring."

You freeze. "What?"

"Dad," another drag, "That's who I've got to thank for these sick bruises. Dear ol' Dad."

"JJ..."

"It's fine," he quick to say, quick to shrug, "I've got it under control. It's usually not this bad. But last night he was completely hammered and I should have known not to..."

"No, JJ," you're quick to say, "Nothing you did is an excuse for this. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve this. This is on him, not on you."

JJ sighs, tightens his hand on the wheel, "Whatever," he says, another shrug, a slight sniffle, "It's just a few more months, then I'm eighteen and I'm out. It's fine, really Y/N. I've got it under control. And usually when he gets like that, I can hide out at John B's place, lay low a bit."

"JJ, you shouldn't have to..."

"It is what it is," JJ says, another shrug, "It's just the roll of the dice. The hand I've been dealt. I learned a long time ago it does nobody any good to run around feeling sorry for yourself."

"Does anyone know?" You ask, you feel like your stepping out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the weight of the ice.

"John B, his dad. They do what they can. No one blinks twice at a kid from The Cut with a few bruises. I've got a home, I'm fed. That's more than most of the kids from the broken homes 'round here. Besides, if anyone did come sniffin' around and decide to take me away, you know what that means, Y/N? That means being taken to the mainland, to a group home that'd probably be worse than where I am now. And I won't have John B or Big John or the surf to keep me sane. So I lay low, try to stay out of his way. It's fine, Y/N. I'm fine."

Your hand hovers slightly before you press above JJ's knee, right where the khaki cargo shorts cut off. His skin is soft, tanned. You half expect him to jerk away, to smack your hand away. Instead, he tenses under your touch, his eyes draw to you. You give him a soft smile.

"It's okay not to be fine, JJ. You don't have to be fine all the time, and you certainly don't have to be fine around me. It sucks, and I'm so sorry this is what you go through. You've never minced words with me before, so don't start now. It fucking sucks. But you aren't alone, okay? I'm here for you too."

"Mind if we make a pit stop first?" JJ asks.

You shrug, "I've got nowhere else to be."

You're sure Sarah is probably glued to her phone wanting every detail. You can make her stew a little bit.

JJ pulls the truck over at the drive-in burger place, Storm's. He orders two strawberry milkshakes.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, then I'm kicking you out of this truck right now," he says, paying the carhop the $5.50 and handing you your Styrofoam cup.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, I might never speak to you again," you say.

"Damn it," he snaps his fingers with a grin, "Nearly had an out."

You give his shoulder a shove and JJ laughs. It feels good to hear him laugh, to be the cause of it. You want to make him laugh over and over again.

JJ takes the truck out towards the beach. You sit in silence as you watch the waves, sipping your milkshakes. Silence has always made you feel awkward, on edge. This silence between you feels almost comfortable. Like neither of you have to say anything, and that's okay.

Still, you can't help but ask, "You have somewhere to go tonight?"

"Been staying at John B's," JJ says, "Dad'll cool off in a few days. Sober up. He's predictable like that. Hell," JJ laughs humorlessly, "I'll bet this weekend he'll pull up with an ice chest of beer and cans of tuna and have a whole weekend out on the boat planned just the two of us. That's as close to an apology as Luke Maybank can muster."

"JJ..."

"It's fine, Y/N. Like I said, I've got it under control. A few more months and then I'm out. I've even got money saved. John B and I are gonna rent a place close to the water. It'll be sick."

"Sounds nice," you say. "This is nice," you wave your milkshake out towards the sea just ahead, "I don't come to the beach enough."

"You don't? How do you survive?"

You can't help but laugh at how genuinely concerned he sounds. "Not everyone needs the salt water to survive, Jage," you say, "I guess I just never grew up with it. My parents are definitely more inside people. And sure we go to the beach sometimes. But I guess I just don't go out of my way to come here."

"That's just sad, Y/N. One of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you to surf." The comment seems to take the both of you by surprise. "Uh..." JJ's hand goes immediately to the back of his neck.

"I'd like that," you're quick to say, and it seems to relax him just a bit.

"Really?" That lazy grin is back.

"Mmhmm," you nod, "No one's ever gone out of their way to teach me anything like that before. And even I know you're one of the best surfers on the island."

JJ beams with pride, sits up a little straighter, "Damn straight." He takes another slurp of his milkshake, then lifts his chin towards the water, "C'mon," he says.

"Where are we going?" You ask as he's already bailing out of the truck.

"Just c'mon," he says.

You can't help but laugh, leaving your milkshake behind. JJ takes your hand in his and pulls you towards the beach. The wind is kicking up as evening approaches, and you walk along the sand, breathing in the brine of the salt water. JJ's still holding your hand in his, and you can't help but think it belongs there, in his.

"This right here," he says, "is why I stay where I am. I can't imagine being away from the ocean, the surf. John B says I have saltwater for blood and maybe he's right. But this right here, Y/N, is my favorite place in the world. It's paradise. Everything else, all the bullshit, it's worth it to be here. There's no where else I'd rather be."

"It is beautiful," you say, "I definitely need to come out to the water more."

"I'll bring you."

"You better."

JJ smiles, tightens his hand around yours.

The two of you walk along the beach, enjoying the sounds of the waves splashing, the gulls cawlling from above. Some little kids are building sandcastles as you walk past.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" You ask, "I was building a sandcastle in the sand box on the playground and you trampled right over it."

"That was not the first time we met."

"Yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't. C'mon, Y/N, do you really not remember?"

"I remember you trampling my sandcastle is what I remember."

JJ shakes his head, "We met before that. Nursery school. About two years before then."

"What?" Your brows furrow as you try to think back that far.

"It was your first day and you were crying and clutching that stupid teddy bear of yours. You didn't want your mom to leave you. You sat off by yourself crying all morning. I went over and shared my Goldfish with you cause I felt bad."

"Oh my God..."

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair, watching the sand kick beneath his feat, "And then that day on the playground, I was so excited to see you again that I ran over and...accidentally stomped on your sandcastle. But by then you were so livid that I'd ruined it and started yelling at me, and well...I've always been kind of a shit about things and so I started kicking it worse, just to get a rise out of you. I'd have done the same thing to John B. But seeing you get all...squawk like that."

"I do not squawk."

"Oh you absolutely squawk," JJ laughs, "And thus began our beautiful rivalry as we know it."

"You're a pain," you say, but you can't help the smile on your face.

"You love it though."

"Do not."

"Do too!" JJ gives you a gentle shove with his shoulder, "You absolutely start half the shit that's happened between us. You go out of your way to track me down and yell at me for something."

"I do not do that!"

"You absolutely do that. And you drag poor Sarah long with you and she stands there and tries not to laugh as we go at it. If I didn't know better, Y/N, I'd say you actually enjoyed our fights."

"That's not true! You are such a menace! You get on my last never all the time and..."

"Uh-huh," JJ's smirk deepens, the dimple forms in his cheek, "Keep tellin' yourself that, Mama."

The term of endearment makes your stomach tighten. You can feel your cheeks heat, and it's not from the sun.

"Don't call me that," you say.

"Why not?" JJ asks.

"Because," you can't think of a single valid reason. "That nickname is for a significant other," you finally say.

"True," JJ nods, "And that's definitely not you, right?"

"Absolutely not," you say, your hand gives his an involuntary squeeze, "In your dreams, Maybank."

"What do you know about my dreams, Y/L/N?"

You give him a shove, and JJ laughs.

"I like that," you say before you can stop yourself.

"Like what?" JJ asks.

"Your laugh."

You swear his cheeks go a shade of pink when you say it.

"No one likes my laugh," he says.

"That's not true. John B likes your laugh, I see the two of you. He's always trying to go out of his way to make you laugh. And I like it too."

JJ blushes deeper, "You can't just go runnin' around sayin' shit like that," he says.

"And why not?"

JJ just sighs, lifts his eyes to the sky like he's saying a silent prayer and shakes his head, "You just can't, darlin'."

The two of you walk a little further, to one of the rocky hills. JJ still holds your hand as the two of you climb up to sit on the top. He pulls his knees to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Love coming here," he says, "Best place to sit and clear your head when the noise of everything else gets too loud."

"It really is beautiful," you say, "Thank you for bringing me."

"Haven't had a chance to come out here since the other night," JJ says, picks up a rock and turns it in his hand. "Went straight to John B's after."

You finally reach a hand out, cup his cheek in your palm, "I'm so sorry, JJ," you say, wishing your gentle touch could somehow erase the pain from his flesh. You realize in this moment that JJ Maybank should only ever feel gentleness and softness. It breaks your heart to think he's felt anything else.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," he says, overlapping your hand with his, "But thank you, Y/N."

"Make you a deal," you say.

"What's that?" JJ asks.

"Any time things feel like a lot, you can come find me and bring me out here. I need a surf instructor after all. Any time you need to clear your head and need an excuse, I'm here."

JJ smiles, nuzzles his cheek into your hand, "Thanks, Y/N." He takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the back of your knuckles, "Can I tell you a secret?" He asks.

"Sure."

"I think that's why I pick fights with you like I do. Fighting with you...it's fun. And it pulls me out of my head. Distracts me."

You can't explain it, but his words make your stomach dip. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," JJ blushes again, ducks his head, "I just...it's fun. Isn't it?"

"It is," you admit, "I like fighting with you."

"But after all these years...." he sighs, "...sometimes I can't help but wonder..."

"Wonder?"

"If there might be something better...better than fighting."

The butterflies are back and you tilt your head to meet his eye, "Like?"

"You're my distraction, Y/N. Every bit as much as the waves are. You keep me grounded. It sounds stupid....but the reason I even still come to school at all is because I look forward to fightin' with you. I'm just sayin'....what if there was something more than fightin'."

"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask. JJ nods. "Sarah gives me so much shit for it, but fighting with you is one of my favorite parts of the day. I do look for you and go out of my way to yell at you for something. It's...it's fun, getting under each other's skin. I can't imagine you not being the fixture you've become in my life, JJ Maybank. I don't think I want to."

JJ takes a breath, the blush is back on his cheeks. You give his hand a squeeze.

"What would you want with a guy like me?" He asks and your heart clenches in your chest.

You let go of his hand and turn to face him, sitting up on your knees. "JJ Maybank," you say, gently scolding, "Don't you even think that. Not for a second."

"Look at me though," he says with a broken sigh, "I'm fucked up, Y/N. Just look at my face..."

You interrupt with a press of your lips to his cheek. JJ freezes, you hear the softest little gasp escape. You press another kiss to another bruise, and another. The bruise on his cheekbones, the cut above his eyebrow, the purple blooming along his eyesocket. JJ is almost shaking as you press a final kiss to the cut on his swollen lip.

"Jesus, Mama..." he says, and it sounds like a prayer.

"That a better distraction than fighting?" You ask with a smirk of your own.

"Fuck yes," his voice is thick and wrecked as you sit back, card your hand through the blonde bangs sticking to his forehead.

"I think so too," you say. "What do you say we retire our title of mortal enemies, hmm?"

"Yes please."

You can't help but giggle at the desperation in his voice, "What other title should we give each other then?" You ask.

JJ rolls his eyes, the smile on his face big enough to split him in two, "You're really gonna make me say it?"

"Mmhmm."

JJ shakes his head helplessly, "Alright, fine. You win. Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend," you say back.

JJ ducks his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. His smile has somehow grown even bigger. Then, as if finally getting a handle on himself, he reaches up and pulls you towards him, hand at the nape of your neck.

"You know what this means, right?" He asks, lips hovering above yours.

"Tell me."

"I get to kiss you any time I like."

"Well you god-damn better," you can't help but grin.

JJ chuckles lowly, before capturing your lip in his. The kiss is unlike any other kiss you've ever experienced; those sweet, shy kisses on doorsteps after dates to dances and diners. This is different. There's a desperation there, a hunger, and a hope all in one. JJ nips at your lip as the two of you pull apart.

"Fuck," he says on a sigh.

"Better than fighting?" You ask again.

"So much better."

You press another kiss to his cheek, "I wish I could kiss away every bit of pain, JJ."

"This?" JJ points to the bruise on his cheek, "Aint nothin'. I'd walk through fire and back for one kiss from you."

"I'd never ask you to," you say, cupping his cheek in your palm again. "You know what this means, right?"

"What's that, Mama?"

"I get to kiss you any time I like. No walking through fire required."

"You're letting me call you Mama," JJ says, reaching a hand out to twist a strand of your hair around his finger.

"Boyfriend privileges and all that," you say.

"I like the sound of that," JJ grins, "Tell me, darlin'. What other privileges do these new titles come with?"

You shake your head with a laugh, "You'll just have to see."

The sun is starting to set and JJ sighs, "Guess I better be gettin' you home."

"Pry should."

"And Big John is grilling out for us tonight, so I should get back for that."

"You gonna be okay?" You ask.

"Of course," he says, "I'm JJ Maybank. When am I ever not okay?"

You sigh and shake your head as he holds out his hand and helps you to your feet. "Besides," he says as the two of you start the walk to the car, "I get to look forward to seeing my girl tomorrow."

You can't help but blush. JJ holds the truck door open for you and you slide in. He goes around to the drivers side and hops in, turning the key in the ignition.

"Do girlfriends get AUX privileges?" You ask, reaching for the cable hanging down by your feet.

"Fuck no," JJ laughs, snatching it away, "I've heard the shit you and Sarah blast from her convertible. Girlfriend or not, Taylor Swift is not touchin' these speakers."

"But...girlfriend privileges."

"Girlfriend privileges nothin'," JJ grins, backing the truck out, "Girlfriend privileges mean I'm pressin' you up against this truck and kissin' you breathless before I tell you goodnight. It does not mean blasting Taylor Swift in ol' Daisy Mae."

"You named your truck Daisy Mae?"

"What?"

"That's more egregious than any music I could play from my phone."

"Don't you be talkin' shit about Daisey Mae, okay?"

"Stupid ass name," you say with a smile.

JJ lifts his middle finger at you with a smile equally as big.

"Alright," you say, "question."

"What's that?"

"Just because we've retired the title of mortal enemies doesn't mean we still can't fight, right?"

"Not the fun fights anyway," JJ grins, "Those fights I can always just shut you up by kissin' you."

"Menace."

"Always."

You shake your head, laughing and lean your head against his shoulder.

"Oh I am in so much trouble," he says, handing you the AUX cord, "You've already got me wrapped around your finger. You always have."

You press another kiss to his cheek, taking his hand in yours. You pull up These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding.

"And you've got me wrapped around yours," you say.

JJ grins, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles. The two of you drive the rest of the way to your house in silence, your head on his shoulder and Otis' voice crooning from the crackling stereo. JJ Maybank was officially now no longer the bane of your existence, and maybe Sarah Cameron hadn't been that off-base after all. All you knew in this moment though was you'd spent the last ten years being driven crazy by JJ Maybank, and you'd gladly be driven crazy by him the next ten.

#jj maybank #obx fic #obx imagine #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x yn #jj maybank x you #outer banks fic #obx #this is lowkey the sexiest thing i've written on here and im freaking out lol #my old fics from like 6 years ago are laughing at me right now lol

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