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yourmomxx · 2 years ago

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[the art of making a house a home]

JJ Maybank x male!reader (no pronouns)

or: most people in jj’s life tend to leave him behind in some way - not you though. never you.

warnings: (mentions of) child abuse, wounds, angst, jj doesn’t know what home is, smoking, weed, hurt/comfort

word count: 2.4k

a/n: I really like writing those kind of imagines, so I’ll probably do more of them in the future! but for now, have this angsty piece of literature

request

JJ took a big step out of the shower. He grabbed one of the towels hanging on the heater and wrapped it around his hips, the fabric feeling comfortably warm against his bare skin.

Opposite him hung a huge mirrored cabinet. The hot water had formed droplets of condensation on the surface, now hiding them behind a thin layer of bright mist.

In fact, this mist actually lingered throughout the bathroom.

Your bathroom, JJ suddenly thought. Your bathroom, your towel, your mirror. Your shower, your heater, your sink.

But somehow it might as well be his, or both of yours, as often as he found shelter and sanctuary with you, when he couldn't bear to be at home again.

Home. JJ involuntarily grimaced. Was that what it was? Were his father – Luke? - and the shabby house where they lived and where so many terrible things had happened to him, his home?

Not really.

He found the idea of the small apartment with the bright seat cushions on the couch and the light-colored curtains, an apartment where you would wait for him, where he could wake up next to you every morning, much more inviting. Much more homely.

He wiped the mirror once with the palm of his hand, clearing a condensation-free spot on the smooth surface.

Sometimes he wished it would be just as easy in his head.

Simply raise his hand and wipe away the wafts of fog with one movement, being finally able to see clearly again. Or at least a little clearer, when he took a closer look at the blurred area.

He supported himself with the heels of his hands on the bathroom sink that was fixed under the mirrored cabinet and looked at himself in the free surface with watchful eyes.

Thin strands of blond hair stood up from his head and hung over his face. The otherwise light-blonde surfer mane had taken on a dark color from the shower water. A few small drops of water still fell from some ends, landed cold on his bare upper body and left an irregular trail of water there.

Despite the blurred water vapor, JJ could clearly make out his figure and the individual moves.

Involuntarily his gaze wandered over his upper body. There was a yellowish discoloration where the towel ended and his defined abs began.

He gently ran his finger over it. Unlike a few days ago, that slight contact with the bruise no longer hurt. The swelling had gone down too, he noted with satisfaction.

Irregular, he could see circular, white scars that split on his forearms. Remnants of burns from cigarette butts to be extinguished.

He caught his gaze in the mirror. Blue-grey eyes stared back at him. They seemed lifeless to him, with the dark circles underneath and the heavy lids that suggested he hadn't had a comfortable night's sleep in days.

Which wasn't even necessarily wrong.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. Now, when the adrenaline subsided, he felt exhaustion settling in his limbs.

As if automatically, his fingers wandered a little higher on his forehead, just below the hairline. He felt a slight bump in the tanned skin under his fingertips. He lifted his hair out of his face.

The scar wasn't big, probably less than an inch. It was almost directly parallel to his hairline and was therefore mostly hidden by the blond mane that fell over his forehead.

And yet sometimes he felt like it was yelling at him when he looked in the mirror.

The thin white line seemed to mock him. Again and again he found himself struggling to fix his hair at all times so that no one could see it, and only take off his caps with his head bowed when he did so.

It was a too constant reminder of the night his father - Luke? – came home drunk once again and hadn’t been satisfied with the meal his (eleven-year-old) son had cooked.

He had pushed him against the edge of a table that evening.

JJ told the doctors at the hospital that he had tripped over a fold in the carpet and injured himself on the table that way. The doctors bought it from him.

It would have been so easy for JJ to just tell them the truth. Screaming at the nurse, begging on his knees, how awful his father was to him, for someone to set him free.

But he hadn't. Luke hadn't even been to the hospital at the time.

Anger overwhelmed him. He banged his fist on the edge of the sink impulsively. Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

Shit Luke Maybank, shit American health care, shit doctors who should have checked further, and shit little eleven-year-old-JJ who didn't have the guts even then to stand up to his shit father.

He clenched his jaw as he felt a sting behind his eyes. No, he wouldn't cry, not now, not at all anymore. He had brought this on himself, he, and his damned cowardice.

JJ pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. Something to counteract the headache that was coming.

He flinched when the bathroom door opened and caught his breath when he saw you standing there.

"Is everything okay? I heard-" You cut yourself off mid-sentence. JJ tensed when he saw where your eyes were going.

"Shit, JJ," you managed to ground out. He avoided looking at you.

He hated it - when you saw him like that, so wounded and vulnerable, and when your voice took on a pained tone and your sentences started with Shit, JJ.

JJ didn't look up. Skillfully, he just pretended that there was nothing there that seemed worth your attention and kept his gaze fixed on his arm. Just his skin, and the muscles beneath it.

He efficiently ignored how your gaze roamed his back, which had probably already formed red welts and bruises - consequences of the anger of Luke Maybank - his father? - and the one reason why he was standing in your bathroom right now and not lying somewhere in his bed.

There was a thump as you put the first aid kit down next to him.

He frowned at himself as he realized he hadn't even noticed you left the bathroom. Had he been too caught up in his head, had the mist blocked his view too much for him to notice?

You gestured for him to sit down and he complied. He was too tired to argue anyway.

JJ vaguely noticed you take a seat behind him on the bathroom floor and moments later he felt your fingers gently trace his back. He could only imagine what he looked like. Swollen welts and probably even little wounds, maybe crusted blood? He felt sick.

JJ fell into his thoughts. Into the deep nothing. From time to time he almost shied away from your fingers and the cold ointment, but caught himself again immediately.

You sat in silence. You hadn't said anything since discovering his wounds, and JJ himself found the thought of straining his vocal cords far too tedious.

The blond boy caught a glimpse of the mirror out of the corner of his eye, recognizing you.

Your facial features were concentrated on working on his wounds, but your eyes reflected the deep concern in them. JJ loathed that. Hated that you cared for him, cared for him when he didn't deserve it.

For a brief moment, nothing happened, then JJ felt your upper body cautiously leaning closer to his, and you placed a feather-light but honest kiss on his shoulder from behind.

JJ almost winced at the touch, tensing at the softness that lay within it. So gentle, in a way he wasn't used to even after a few months in a relationship with you.

You didn't blame him, you never had. You knew what was going on at JJ's house and why he showed up at your door pretty much every day, head hanging, muscles hurting and mind aching.

There were better days too, when he was almost glued to you, taking your hand, snuggling up to you every moment he could get his hands on.

But of course there were worse ones, like today, for example. Then he didn't talk much if at all, carrying on conversations more in his head than out loud.

But then you always gave him his space without ever leaving him completely lonely. And he was grateful to you for that.

“Come on, big guy. ‘S time we get you in bed." Your voice was hoarse next to his ear, yet so soft and warm he wanted to sink into it. He stood up slowly and you lifted your chin from his shoulder.

Obediently he trotted - or rather dragged himself - towards your bedroom (both of yours?). You just followed him without a word.

JJ liked your bedroom. The king size bed was placed in the middle of a medium sized room. A tall wardrobe stood against one wall and a door led to another room, the bathroom.

On the opposite wall, two curtained windows offered an almost perfect view of the open sea.

Over the months, JJ had found that knowing the ocean so close to him whenever he stayed at your place was immensely comforting, and how the sound of the crashing waves breaking on the beach lulled him to sleep.

You never told him how you didn't really like the salty cold of the sea air and only ever left the window open for your boyfriend.

Without a word, you handed JJ a hoodie – burgundy, no print. With slow movements he slipped the garment over himself, the soft fabric nestled comfortably against his tingling skin. He took fresh boxershorts from a drawer.

JJ took a deep breath. Your scent enveloped him. Coconut palms, perfume and cedar wood.

No cigarettes.

This had to be the sweater you never allowed yourself to smoke in, then. It was a - for him strange - habit of yours. You smoked regularly, and yet there were some areas, or items of clothing, where you absolutely forbade yourself and others to smoke.

How many times had you sent him into the kitchen so the stench of smoke wouldn't eat into your bedroom walls? Or on the terrace so that the kitchen would be able to "breathe" again?

JJ grinned to himself.

He glanced out the window where he could vaguely make out the light sand of the beach and the blue-pink sky as the sun slowly set behind.

He shuffled his way to your bed, where you were already waiting for him, lying on your back and one arm stretched out for him. JJ dropped ungracefully next to you.

He rested the back of his head on your shoulder, felt your body beneath him and stared at the white ceiling, lost in thought.

JJ also liked your bed.

He found it comfortable, with the wide mattress, which even springs back a little when you adjust to it, and that wasn’t saggy, as if Charlemagne had slept in it himself.

A not sagging mattress, JJ thought. Not worn out like at his place... at home? Inwardly he shook his head. Somehow, it still didn't feel right.

“Hey, JJ?” He suddenly heard you say. Your voice was quiet, maybe to not startle him.

“Mmm?” JJ hummed.

“Say something next time.”

JJ felt his stomach drop. He had known. He had known you were angry with him. That you were fed up with how he always came to you to cry to you about his tearful stories, how you always had to take care of him. JJ tensed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

This would be it. You would tell him to stop being whiny and dramatic, to suck it up and behave like a man.

His hand cranked into the fabric of your shirt.

“Hey,” you softly said. “Hey, JJ!” Abruptly, you sat up and took his head into your hands. JJ hadn’t even realized that he was shaking up until now.

He avoided your gaze.

“Hey JJ, look at me.” Your tone was commanding yet gentle and JJ found himself doing exactly what you asked of him. Stupid welling tears that made his vision blurry.

“JJ, it’s alright,” you calmed him down. Your thumb was softly stroking his cheek. You noticed his breathing even out.

“JJ, I’m here for you,” you said, “But you’ve gotta talk to me. I want to help you but I can’t do that if you keep this from me. Do you hear me?”

For a second, JJ was confused. So you weren’t angry with him, or yelling, you were actually just … worried. Really simply only worried, for him.

He felt his head grow dizzy at the thought.

“J,” you repeated. “I want you to tell me you understand.” A bit of the fog in JJ’s mind cleared, as he looked into your eyes. Then, he slowly nodded.

A small smile started tugging at the corners of your lips. “Good. Now, come on.”

You used your thumb to wipe a loose tear off of JJ’s cheek, and laid down onto the bed again. JJ went back to his former position with his back laid on your side and his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

He was still processing this entire situation.

Well, of course, rationally speaking, there was no chance you would’ve gotten mad at him over this. After all, the bruises weren’t his fault, he had learned that by now.

But a single drop of doubt always managed to mix into his already uneasy mind, and had the habit of turning soft waves into torrential floods over just the right amount of time.

The hiss of a lighter snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned his neck towards you and could see you holding the orange flame to the end of a hand-rolled blunt.

JJ watched as your cheeks drew in with the hit and you took the joint back from your lips. The smoke that followed didn't bother him the slightest.

Then you held the smoldering joint in front of him. JJ frowned and looked up at you.

"The hoodie?" he asked confused. You just shrugged.

"Can be washed," was your short answer. A faint smile formed on JJ's lips and he snuggled a little closer to you, if that was even possible.

The tips of his hair tickled the base of your throat as you watched him take a deep drag on the joint. His cheeks hollowed out, and after a brief moment, holding the smoke in his lungs, he puffed it out in the air toward the window. Like that would make a difference, but you appreciated the thought.

You took the blunt out of his hand and, with some difficulty, stretched to put it out in the ashtray. You would check later whether it could still be used afterwards.

You turned your full attention back to JJ, who by now had rolled onto his side and was snuggled into your side like a little boy, his arm wrapped around your waist.

He buried his face in your tank top and relaxedly closed his eyes.

The sounds of the rushing sea came through the half-open window, the wind seemed to be stronger out on the sea. Here and there a few squabbling seagulls could be heard screeching to each other.

You carefully lifted the arm JJ was draped on and slowly brought it near the back of his head. Carefully and slowly you tangled your fingers in his blond locks and began massaging his scalp.

JJ made a sound, that could be close described to a purr and you dared to apply a little more pressure.

At your feet lay the duvet, crumpled at the end of the bed.

The summer night wasn't necessarily hot, but after all, JJ was wearing your hoodie and you had your boyfriend's body heat to keep you warm.

The blond boy moved his hand, which was on your hip, and slipped it under a fold of your tank top. He placed his hand at your side, just above the waistband of your pants. Automatically his thumb began to draw gentle circles on your skin.

He felt you breathe beneath him. His ear could dully hear the slow beating of your heart.

JJ's breathing also became shallower and more regular. He felt exhaustion catch up with him and sleep drew him to it with open arms.

On the edge of his consciousness he noticed how you pressed a gentle kiss on his hairline.

JJ sighed in content. And this, JJ thought, just before he finally fell asleep, is what home feels like.

@miofrommars

#gif by antoxx on weheartit #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x male!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x male reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks imagine #outer banks #requested #yourmomxx #the art of making a house a home

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cloveroctobers · 2 months ago

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HOME | SERVING 2 of 2 — JJ MAYBANK [Fall Randoms] 🤎

A/N: Part one is here! + I finally let out a good cry last night before finishing this up so there's that. It's been awhile since losing a character had an effect on me and that YouTube video on the cast saying their goodbyes did NOT help. Anyways! The goal was to keep things light and envision that those that have been through so much DO get happy endings. Enjoy and thank you to those that read the first part, I appreciate you.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔

Soon everyone gets to work serving themselves, just as Pope and Cleo reveal their late arrival.

“I told Pope, y’all were gettin’ started witout us so we needed to hurry and get in line!” The Caribbean woman yells, tucking her signature blade into the small cross body bag she sported, before hugging Alma, who has her hands full so she opts for tucking her chin into her friend's shoulder in greeting.

JJ turns his eyes into slits at the brown skinned girl while making his way over to Pope to give him a bone crushing hug, “Cleo, if you broke my door—

“As much shit of mine you broke over the years?” Pope stares hard at JJ while defending his unbothered girlfriend, “Can’t even hold a candle, man.”

“Dude, why you bringin’ up old shit?” JJ squeezes Pope’s shoulders with a frown.

Rafe scoffs as he walks on by with his full plate of food already, “That’s rich coming from you, Maybank.”

“That’s strike one, Cameron!” JJ hissed at the no longer buzz haired man’s back.

“The hell is he doing here?” Pope jams a thumb at Rafe who’s strolling through the house looking around as he makes his way to the dining room.

JJ points at a sleek back bun wearing Sarah from across the room, “Ask his sister.”

“J…” Alma warns.

He raised his hands in surrender, “What? Can’t I inform my good friend here what’s going on in the house?”

“If you’re going to keep throwing jabs the entire night, we can step outside.” Sarah comments as she finishes fixing herself and Little J a plate.

JJ scoffs, “I wouldn’t want my godson mad at me, and his view of me is the most important. Which is why, when we get to the games, I’m gonna kick your butt!”

“Oh yeah?” Sarah quizzes as she spins on her heels to face him in her mustard yellow ribbed dress, “Loser owes the other $500 bucks.”

JJ sucks air between his teeth, “That’s boring Pogue princess. I’ve got a better idea! And it involves this estate at night and the basement.”

“Oh god.” Kiara mumbles, putting her last serving of greenery (which was of course the dish she brought over) on her plate and sends Alma a grimace on her way out of the kitchen.

Sarah was the first one to find that the Genrette basement was haunted. She honestly felt like it was a scene out of the conjuring and wanted no parts after spraining her ankle trying to get out of there. JJ didn’t believe her at first until he got locked down there himself and heard a voice that did not sound like Alma’s or Sarah’s. He’s never been a big fan of Halloween and he definitely didn’t want this estate to make him afraid to sleep here. Not when he began to find an actual home in a physical building rather than people.

“Bet.” Sarah holds out her ankle so they can shake on it, since her hands were indeed full.

Groaning Alma hands over a utensil to Cleo after watching the two “shake” on it.

“Aw don’t be like that mama, it’s all in good fun! After all our house is the fun house!” JJ explains, squeezing Alma’s hips while he circled around the kitchen to grab his own plate.

Cleo laughs, “If anybody ends up injured tonight, rude boy, you’re done for!”

JJ tips his imaginary hat, “Thanks for your vote of confidence, ma’am.”

“Aye, I always bet on princess.” Cleo winks while JJ sticks his tongue into his cheek, before peeking at Pope who immediately shakes his head.

“Don’t bring me into your shenanigans.”

“You used to love my shenanigans,” JJ argues, “Don’t tell me the military done officially made you a hardass, Pope!”

Pope snorts, “No. It’s brought me some sense after five years.”

Alma shares a glance with Cleo. Knowing that the only reason Pope decided to enlist was to avoid the fact that he had to kill in order to survive out in Morocco. Hey, people learn how to cope the best way they knew how and Alma was always the last to judge Pope on that. She was the one who ended Groff’s life for trying to take away the love of her life (twice) and no amount of sleep would erase her actions. Or the amount of anger she had in that moment, the stench of blood and that same blood that once decorated her face. The weight of the blade…

It needed to be done.

She couldn’t make herself regret her actions and that was the scary part.

That was something she wouldn’t talk about with JJ (she didn't want to be the one to bring him anymore pain) or even her therapist…she was very vague on that, yet she had no problem talking about it with Pope. JJ felt a way about that but Cleo tried to convince him not to take it personal.

“Sorry, what was that?” JJ cupped one of his ears, “I fell asleep over your preaching.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” Pope snapped his fingers, “Now hand me that spoon for the green beans.”

“Sir yes sir!” JJ saluted.

Finding that there was no real tension between the two, Alma and Cleo let the two be for a moment, heading into the dining room where the rest were seated, which was a good enough signal for John B to hop up and go fix his own plate.

“Sooo…” John B. said to JJ who leaned against one of the counters to bite into a turkey leg, waiting for the two to finish picking their choices for dinner.

Pope felt a small smile playing on his lips, already getting a sense of what his curly haired friend was hinting at, while he moved on to load some Mac-N-Cheese onto his plate, “Have you set a plan in motion on how you’re going to propose yet?”

JJ immediately shushed the now low-cut haired man, flicking his shoulder, “Sheesh! Can you be any louder?!”

“There’s music playing.” Pope shrugged, as he peered at his blue eyed friend.

Which sounded a whole lot like Cleo’s playlist as laughter rung out from the room down from the kitchen.

“Don’t you know by now that women have supersonic hearing?” The blond says through gritted teeth and glanced over his shoulder.

Pope turned his eyes into slits while John B nodded, “That’s not a thing—

“Pope!” Cleo suddenly called from the dining room, “The cranberry sauce is out here on the dining room table. Alma says the ladle is in one of the drawers—well stuck in the drawer. Bring it here, will ya?”

His natural deep tone radiates off the walls, “Okay, baby!”

“Tanks!” Cleo calls back, which made both JJ and John B send him a pointed look.

Pope exhales and holds one hand out in apology, “I’ll try to keep my voice down…but I am curious.”

“Thanks, Darth Vader,” JJ joked while Pope gives him a blank stare, “Anyway! Y’all know I’ve had the ring for months but there have been times when she almost found it.”

“Guess where the idiot hid it the first time?” John B chuckles as he says this.

Pope sticks his fork into the Mac-N-cheese, “Oh I know this is going to be good.”

The blond ran his teeth over his bottom lip, allowing his friends to poke their fun for a little bit.

“Underneath the bed in one of Alma’s empty shoe boxes and guess who walked around with the pouch that had the ring in their mouth?” John B continued inquiring Pope who simply shrugged.

“Don’t say Little J?”

“No! Binx.” John B laughs while JJ rolled his fingers around at the mention of the charcoal gray cat Alma adopted three years ago.

JJ wanted some big ass dog originally and it was still in the works. It only made sense that Alma was a cat girlfriend who wanted a cat. It was the best emotional support animal in Alma’s opinion but JJ actually wouldn’t have minded an iguana or even a hedgehog! The pair often checked on Kiara’s turtle when she went off to New York or D.C. when her parents couldn’t. So the couple knew how to take care of Little J, some pets, and each other but marriage? Felt like an even bigger step, which is why JJ constantly backed out. Finding every excuse in the world to not do it.

Granted they were still young but JJ couldn’t picture anyone else being his wife. It was never a question of him not wanting to do it, it was his own self-doubts of if he was even worthy to have this kind of love. It still felt like a dream most days, when he found his mind wandering off as he gazed at Alma lovingly while she carried on doing something around the home or even when she was just sitting underneath him talking about anything. Even when they got into arguments, JJ wouldn't want to go to bed angry and that said a lot since his temper often got the best of him.

The only pair that were in an official union on paper was Sarah and John B who eloped not long after Lisbon. Of course it was never a competition when it came to all of the relationships, there was nothing but admiration and respect for all, however they all believed that the ones next in line should definitely be JJ and Alma.

It was already secretly voted by the rest.

“Alright, if you two are done cackling like some damn hyenas! We have a dinner to get to.” JJ tells his friends who were in fact sharing a good ‘ol laugh.

John B holds a hand out, “Aw don’t be like that man!”

“I’m not bein’ like nothing. We just got to get this show on the road, ya know?” The blond lets out a wolf whistle with a swirl of his finger.

Pope adds, “Look…whenever you do choose to do it, just know that we always got your back.”

“And Binx. They seem to be the extra push you need to just do it already.” John B joked with a wink which made JJ send him a special middle finger as they all start to leave.

“Wait! The ladle.” JJ tells Pope, who spins back around to enter the kitchen at his instruction, “It’s the drawer on the end by the window, there’s a special trick you gotta—

Pope ends up flinging himself back with the drawer handle now in his hand. The friends look at each other in silence.

“…I’m telling Alma you broke that.”

“Are you forreal?!” Pope yells at his back while JJ nods his head and speeds walks out of the kitchen. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 The dinner is as peaceful as can be, chatting about what everyone had going on, random topics, and of course old memories. There was even a phone call in from Mr. Heyward who of course invited everyone to spend actual thanksgiving down at their house, if anybody didn’t have any plans. A FaceTime call also came in from Joey who just had to hear about JJ and Sarah’s objective to battle it out with the night games Alma and JJ had planned.

Joey of course betted on JJ.

The games ranged from: Making turkey hands with Little J = Sarah’s team (Sarah, John B, Cleo, and Rafe—who mainly wanted to keep score rather than participate) won that one of course, Dance telephone happened before the drinks = JJ’s team won that (JJ, Alma, Pope, and Kiara), a little break was taken after that until Kiara wanted to film a Cuff it challenge for TikTok, where Cleo had to switch sides for a moment to redeem her team losing but John B argued that wasn’t part of the games and JJ didn’t want to hear any of that, calling him a sore loser which ended up with the two wrestling on the floor and shit-talking, then came the creating the best beverage of the night and guessing who it belonged to, who ever got the most votes for that drink and whatever team they were on got the point.

Rafe, JJ, and Cleo all made the strongest drinks. Sarah made the weakest but sweetest drink, Kiara’s was a sneak up on you kind of drink, John B and Pope’s tasted similar since they used alike ingredients, and Alma pranked them all with her holiday fruit water that she forgot to take out of the fridge, demanding that they needed to be hydrated after indulging in JJ, Rafe, and Cleo’s drink back to back. She was automatically disqualified but she was fine dancing with Little J anyway. It unfortunately didn’t come down to what tasted the best but immediately to which one was going to give them a hangover for days…it came close but ultimately the point went to Sarah’s team.

A few more games were dived into: who could blow out the tea light candles the farthest in one breath, stacking cups the fastest with little J participating in before he was ready to go to bed, which Rafe surprisingly stepped up and said he would do, then came the game of head shoulders knees and toes cup—which is basically Simon says and whichever opponent touches the cup first wins, backstabber karaoke where you have to sing the lyrics correctly without looking at the screen, that included Alma getting a nice serenade of, “Leave The Door Open,” from JJ which funny enough unlocked a memory from their high school years, since Alma still has the biggest crush on Bruno Mars and JJ tried to persuade that he sounded better.

Once it was Alma’s turn and she shared a sip of JJ’s horrible concoction, that gave her more faith to belt a ballad as well from Celine Dion, “The Power of love,” but everyone knew they should have left the vocals to Kie anyway. It was shaky on both teams and some accusing the other of cheating just like the game prior but they gave it to Sarah’s team only because they knew the lyrics better!

The final game was: Drunk jeopardy and it was also pretty close until it was Alma’s choice to pick the last category which was: Random for 500.

Rafe reads the question with his head tilted to the side in puzzlement, after tapping out on the games, “What would you say if JJ asked to marry you?”

Kiara, Sarah, and Cleo all shared a gasp and latched into each other once they realized what was happening. John B was tipsy so he slapped his hands against his face, slowly trying to piece together what was going on right now.

Alma widened her low-lidded eyes, in search of JJ to see what was about to occur. She didn’t peak at any of the questions when this board got delivered to their house earlier this week but she never expected this type of question to be here.

A tap to her thigh, makes her look down to see JJ already down on his knee with his hand held out. Alma doesn’t hesitate placing hers in his warm and slightly sweaty one, which JJ intertwined with his own while holding onto a cream colored pouch.

“Hi, Kit.” That nickname fell softly from JJ’s lips as he addressed his woman.

Alma felt her heartbeat in her ears and she was positive that JJ could probably feel that rhythm radiating through their joined hands. “Hey, JJ babe.”

JJ sniffs as he looks down at their hands briefly, “You have no idea how much I’ve been going back and forth in my mind on when to do this.”

Cleo pauses the music from her phone, while Kiara pulls out her phone to record, and Sarah rushes over to John B to plop into his lap and hold onto him.

“Like John B said…Binx even wanted me to just do it.” JJ looks up at Alma, his eyes already appeared watery as he carries on, “So we’re here, months later, finally finding the nerve to ask you. I’m not the best with words as you know yet my mouth always gets me in trouble.”

“Absolutely.” Kiara comments just to be shushed by Pope who still nods his head in agreement and amusement.

JJ gets rid of his glare the moment he peers over at Alma, “We’ve had a lot of conversations high and not high about what the future looked like and I always struggled not knowing or having any ideas…until you became this permanent force in my life. You make me better, want to be better, and make me see that life is worth so much more than the pessimistic thoughts that like to get the best out of me.”

Alma squeezes his hand in encouragement.

“You had my heart way before you even knew it. I tried to fight it too but when you want something bad enough? You’re real sneaky at getting it.” JJ laughs, with Alma echoing, “You’ve always known what you’ve wanted and even now I’m still in disbelief that you choose me time and time again.”

“Don’t be.” Alma whispers but molds her lips into her mouth, not wanting to interrupt.

JJ continues, “We’ve been through some shit, huh?”

Everyone murmurs.

“Yet we still get to tell the story and you’re a huge piece of it. My joy, my whole entire heart. I’m thankful for you showing me what love is, it can be: tender, kind, unpredictable, to the bone, and wholesome. I like comin’ home to you, ya know? You’re always running around in my head with those damn claws of yours that shockingly haven’t poked my damn eye out. Still they know how to leave their mark, don’t they baby?” He wiggles his brows up at the dark haired woman, whose mouth drops a bit with a laugh as she reaches out to playfully swat at his shoulder.

JJ laughs, “What I’m trying to wrap this up into is…I love you so much and you told me you wouldn’t know what to do without me. You almost had that experience…”

Which makes the room appear solemn for a moment at the horrifying memory. That’s what it was and that’s where they needed to keep it.

“The truth is I barely know what to do without you when we’re only a few hours apart. That lets me know, I need you in my life for eternity and a helluva lot more after that. So…Alma belle Layton, would you make me the luckiest man of all time and be my wife?”

Everyone waited with bated breath but JJ’s stomach was in the form of biggest knots. If he didn’t get an answer soon, he might just let it all go right here…sorry you guys!

JJ managed to pull the ring out from the pouch with one hand and teeth. Alma didn’t even need to see the ring because her blank face quickly split into a wide grin that always reached her eyes.

“Duh,” she finally answers bringing her forehead to JJ’s who finally let his shoulders relax.

Claps and whistles were heard all over the living room, leaving JJ to scramble to his feet, with shaky hands he slips the ring onto Alma’s finger. She bounces on her toes, giggling as she locks her arms over JJ’s shoulders, their noses softly bumped against each other’s as they breathed each other in before connecting their lips.

This kiss felt different, like a whole new promise and the static that tingled their lips only made their smiles wider.

“I love you Jeremiah James Maybank and I won’t let you forget it.” Alma whispers against his lips.

JJ feels his whole chest fill with warmth while he nods, “I think I’m finally starting to get that, buttercup.”

Alma throws herself against him tightly, lightly scratching at his back with her nails as he holds onto the woman of his dreams.

Their hug becomes even fuller as the rest of their friends circle them with hugs of their own.

Alma pulls back to flash the ring, which she didn’t even look at, just thrilled that JJ needed her to be his wife.

“I’m a fiancée, y’all!” Alma models her ring which makes JJ send a dimpled smile her way, and all the guys roughly pull and shake JJ around in a congratulating manner.

“I actually got my Poguey for life. WOOO-HOO! YEAH!” JJ cheers with his fists thrown up in the air.

The three girls had their heads trained down on Alma’s trilliant engagement ring.

“You did nice, pretty boy.” Cleo observes, sending her friend a thumbs up.

Kiara nods as she continues to hold Alma’s hand, “JJ’s always had the most questionable taste in pretty much everything but it’s a blessing to see that he made the right choice with you.”

“What kind of compliment is that?” JJ yells out to the taller girl out of the group.

Kiara innocently shrugs her shoulders with a grin.

“We’re officially sisters, AlmBelle!” Sarah is a giggly mess with her chin buried in Alma’s shoulder, while hugging her from behind.

Alma smiles resting her cheek back against Sarah’s.

Rafe glanced at the ring on his way by with his lips pushed out, plastic cup still in hand, “Not bad for a pogue, Maybank.”

“You know what, Rafe?” JJ starts in a tone that makes everyone turn their attention to the blond’s words, “…I’m too happy right now to even want to kick your ass so…happy thanksgiving man.”

Rafe snickers as he gazes up at the turkey leg headband the younger man now had on his head, they side eye each other until Rafe raises his cup in a silent congratulatory manner.

“I’m gonna check on the kid.” Rafe informs the group of friends, stopping to look over his shoulder to see the most loyal of friends express their joy over this new found chapter in their lives.

Everyone stops to just sit with each other for a while before the cleanup starts. Alma has her eyes closed as JJ presses kisses all over her cheek, arms locked around her hips while they lounged on the couch.

They were rightfully in their bubble right now.

“I won’t really be able to keep my hands off you now, Mrs.” He says into her ear.

Alma smiles, “Don’t.”

“Promise you’ll return the favor?” JJ’s got that cute dimple peeking out on his cheek.

Alma shifts to rest her legs over JJ’s lap, “You’re not going anywhere as long as I have something to say about it.”

He runs one hand down the length of her faux leather covered thigh, “I like the sound of that.”

And this is just a page in what should have been the perfect love story.

Sarah smiles at the two from across the room on another sofa, John B was already snoring against her shoulder. It was safe to say that JJ’s team won the Friendsgiving games tonight. Her almond eyes watched as Alma held onto JJ’s jaw as he animatedly talked, probably about his path to getting the ring. There was such a softness in Alma’s eyes as she gently nodded along, listening to the blond she took the time to love.

JJ Maybank was home.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔

#part 2 of 2 #part 2 to home 🏠#queued #obx season 4 #obx netflix #obx4 #jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x reader #holiday fic #cleo anderson #pope heyward #popecleo #jarah b #jarah #kiara carrera #rafe cameron

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