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trouble sleeping? // j.m
warnings: fluff, cuddling, kissing, pet names.
summary: jjs girlfriend is having trouble sleeping <3
small blurb for my baby @jjblunts requested by this ask, i hope you like it!
for a couple days now, you've been having sleeping problems. when you lay in bed, you toss and turn for hours until you fall asleep, waking up with a sore back and grouchy from the lack of sleep.
however, jj has been noticing the slight changes in appearance and mood from you. he's been noticing dark circles starting to form, and the way you've been super quiet all day, and drinking multiple cups of coffee to stay awake.
he didnt know what was going on, but he knew he wanted to help. so tonight, instead of laying on the couch, he comes in to sleep with you instead.
you had been laying on your back, desperately trying to get just an ounce of sleep, but there was no use. you let out a huff of frustration and turn onto your side, hugging the pillows close to you.
as your fighting to fall asleep, you hear the door creaking, meaning someone has entered the room. you open you eyes to see the blonde standing above you.
he reaches down to carress your cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb across it. "hey babydoll. you cant sleep?" he asks softly.
you smile softly up at him, a tired and weak smile on your face. "no..." you shake your head.
he sighs, sliding into bed next to you gently moving you over by your waist to make room for him. "why didn't you tell me baby? you know i would've came to sleep with you." he says, running his fingers through your hair gently.
you lean into his touch, resting your head on his pec. "i dunno, didn't wanna bother you..."
he chuckles softly "baby your never bothering me. jus' go to sleep, hm?" he says, and moves your hair away from your face to kiss your forehead.
within minutes, your softly snoring in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck.
he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. "sweet dreams, sweetheart." he says before falling asleep, holding your body against his protectively.
#jj maybank#outer banks#imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#obx fic#fluff#liah yaps!#rafe cameron#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x you#obx jj#jj obx#jj fics#sub jj#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank icons#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank rp#jj maybank series#jj maybank moodboard#jj maybank masterlist#jj maybank obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank drabble
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summary: rafe who protects maybank!reader from luke bc jj is too busy finding gold to protect his sister
tw: parental abuse, mention of drugs, rafes sweet but kinda demanding
word count: 526
you covered a shift working at the wreck because kie could never be bothered to take a shift at her dadâs restaurant, too busy running around the island trying to find whatever gold bullshit that john b has got your brotherâs friends and him hung up on. you call jj, overwhelmed from the morning of dealing with your father lukeâs fit of rage.
âare you gonna be home tonight? dad just bought a bunch of drugs from barryâs and i donât want to be alone. iâm scared.â
âsis, you know i love ya, but do you want our lives to get better or not? iâm tryna get us out of this hell, alright? so just stay in your room and donât come out. love ya, bye.â
he hung up before you could squeeze in another cry for help. just as your salty tears fall, rafe cameron motions you over to give him his bill. you wipe your tears away and give him the fakest smile. he orders you to sit in the opposite empty chair.
âare you alright, sweetheart? i heard that. you know, i know your dadâs a druggie dick. iâve seen him at barryâs. I gotta get you out of that house. i see your bruises. you know all that makeup doesnât cover it.â he grabs your arm and rolls up your sleeve, showing your bruise from your father. you, flustered, pull away as his tone was demanding.
before you could even respond, kieâs words ring in your ears: ârafe cameron wouldnât be caught dead eating here, especially alone. he usually spends his time at the country club. to a kook like him, the wreck is a dump. but ever since you started working there, he always sits at the same table almost every day, staring at you your whole shift, and if you arenât his waitress, he makes a huge fuss. heâs so sweet to you, always.â
ârafe, really, iâm alright. donât worry about me.â
âstay at mine tonight, y/n. iâll take care of you.â he sets 1000 dollars down on the table. he usually gives you a 100 or 200 dollar tip but never this much. you barely know rafe.
ârafe, no. i canât take this. i donât even know⊠uh, uh, rafe, i canât.â
âstop mumbling and take it. your dad spends all his money on drugs and your brotherâs too goddamn worried about god knows what to even be home to take care of you. so iâm going to man up and protect you, okay? so shut up.â
that night after your shift, you stay at rafeâs house. he lets you stay in sarahâs room since the camerons are away. for the first time in ages, you finally relax, safe from your abusive father. you fall asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the stress. rafe makes sure youâre comfortable, checking on you throughout the night. when you wake up in the morning, you find a note and breakfast waiting for you. the note reads:
âgood morning, sweetheart. had to run some errands. i know weâre very different but i know what youâre going through. stay as long as you need. youâre safe here. - rafe.â
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe obx#outer banks#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#outer banks pogues#jj maybank#rafe x oc#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron thoughts#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe headcanons#rafe smut#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe fic
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SILENT RIFT
jj maybank x fem!cameron!reader || WC: 4.5K
SUMMARY: The Pogues finally find the gold they've been searching for after countless obstacles. However, when it comes to actually succeeding, the universe has other plans. Held at gunpoint in the middle of nowhere, a spontaneous decision changes everything. In the heat of the moment, words are said that reveal hidden feelings. Emotions run high, leading them to confront not only their enemies, but also their own emotions.
WARNINGS: established relationship, cursing, mild angst, talks of drugs, typical OBX level violence, suggestive towards the end but no smut!
A/N: Happy OBX 4 release day! This one shot is one of my old Wattpad drafts from when I was writing a JJ story. Enjoy this drabble as I try to publish another chapter of broken record or collateral hearts soon! This ended up being a long one, enjoy! Divider by @marvelstoriesepic
â© main masterlist
â© obx masterlist
"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr. Frankenstein," JJ scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Kiara as he stepped out of the Twinkie. He clutched the melted piece of gold tightly in his hand, its weight a tangible reminder of what everyone was expecting him to do. As the group arrived outside a shabby pawn shop on the outskirts of the Outer Banks, the rundown aspect and the graffiti on the walls made your skin crawl. The shops window's were smeared with grime, making it impossible to see inside, and the peeling paint revealed patches of weathered wood.
Kiara shot JJ a glare, her frustration evident in the tight set of her jaw and the clenching of her fists. "Like you could have done any better." She retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. JJ stepped closer, standing toe to toe with her, not backing down from her challenging gaze. "I could have done much better. I took a welding class," He sassed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Woah, woah, hey!" John B chastised, stepping in between his two friends.
His presence seemed to diffuse some of the tension, his calm demeanor acting as a buffer between the two. You followed his lead, grabbing JJ by his arm and rubbing comforting circles with your thumb on his forearm knowing that he was anxious. You could feel the taut muscles in JJ's arm slowly beginning to relax under your touch, the rhythmic motion of your thumb providing a small measure of comfort.
"Chill out, okay?" John B coaxed, his voice gentle but firm. You watched as Kiara's eyes softened slightly, her earlier anger giving way to a mix of concern and frustration. She took a step back, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled deeply. "It's easy for you to say that," JJ scoffed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You're not the one that has to pawn off this piece of shit." He emphasized his point by holding up the gold bars that were now melted in a unrecognizable shape, the once gleaming metal was now a twisted, misshapen lump.
"How did I get this job anyway?" JJ muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Cause you're the best liar." Pope replied nonchalantly, his tone matter-of-fact. Letting out a sigh JJ turned to you, his cerulean blue eyes locking with yours. His eyes were a stormy sea, filled with a mix of frustration and determination. He turned his head, tapping his cheek. "Kiss, for you know, good luck." He grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning momentarily. You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends antics yet leaned in to kiss him nonetheless.
Just as your lips were about to collide with his cheek, he turned his head at the last second, smashing his lips with your in a kiss that was way too passionate for it to be in front of your friends. The warmth of his lips, the sudden intensity, made your heart race. You could have sworn you heard your sister mutter an "aww" while everyone else fake gagged, their exaggerated sounds filling the air. Pulling yourself away from the kiss, much to JJ's dismay, you smiled, leaning up and pressing one more chaste kiss to his pouting lips.
The brief contact left a lingering warmth, a promise of more to come. "You got this," You reassured him, squeezing his bicep in emphasis, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Showtime," He mumbled to himself, mentally preparing. Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath, and gave you one last look before stepping forward. Behind you, Sarah reached out and squeezed your hand, her grip offering a silent message of solidarity and support. The warmth of her touch was comforting, grounding you in the moment.
Everyone followed JJ into the empty shop, the jingle of the bell on the door announcing your arrival. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet space, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air. "Afternoon, ma'am." JJ greeted, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of anxiety. The shop was dimly lit, with dust particles dancing in the beams of barely there sunlight that filtered through the windows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with various trinkets and curiosities, each one telling its own story. âAfternoon.â The pawnbroker, an elderly woman with a stern face and piercing eyes, looked up from behind the counter.
Her gaze swept over your group as you spaced yourselves around the room, lingering on JJ for a moment longer. JJ stepped forward, trying to maintain his composure under her scrutinizing gaze. "I see you buy gold," He emphasized, his voice steady but with a hint of nervousness. "That's what the sign says, don't it?" She retorted, her lips curling into a sneer. She glanced at the sign hanging in the window, its letters faded and worn. "Well, I sure hope you buy a lot of it, because I am about to blow your mind." JJ carefully opened his bag, revealing the items inside. The pawnbroker's eyes never left his hands, watching his every move with a hawk-like intensity.
"I ain't got much mind left to blow, so have at it," She challenged, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and curiosity. "How about them gold apples," JJ replied, his voice steady as he placed the melted gold onto the counter with a thump that echoed throughout the shop. The sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, adding a weighty finality to his action. The pawnbroker chuckled cynically, shaking her head. "That ain't real," She declared, her voice filled with disbelief and a hint of mockery. Her eyes flicked to the gold, then back to JJ, as if daring him to prove her wrong.
"That ain't real?" JJ scoffed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "It can't be," The pawnbroker pressed, her voice faltering slightly as doubt began to creep in. She reached out a tentative hand, her fingers hovering just above the gold, as if afraid to touch it. "Feel how heavy it is," He countered, his voice firm and confident. He nudged the gold closer to her, the metal glinting under the dim light. The pawnbroker hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked on JJ's, searching for any sign of deceit. Finally, she picked up the gold, her fingers curling around it.
Her expression shifted from skepticism to surprise as she felt the weight of the metal in her hand. The shop fell silent, the only sound being the faint creak of the floorboards as she adjusted her stance, the gold weighing heavily in her grasp. "Mhm, here let's get some light on that." The group watched intently as she narrowed her eyes, but nevertheless picked up a nearby magnifying glass with a light, inspecting the chunk of gold closely. "Spray-painted tungsten." She concluded, her voice laced with doubt but still firm.
"Really, okay?" JJ rolled his eyes. "Why don't you see how soft it is." He suggested. "You mind?" The pawnbroker asked, holding up a small mallet, her eyes seeking permission. "No, go for it." JJ urged, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. She brought the mallet down gently, making a small dent in the gold, then pushed down on it for further inspection. "Wow. Would you look at that." JJ remarked sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hold your horses, we ain't got the acid test yet." She shot back, her confidence wavering slightly. "Ooh, the acid test," He turned, his eyes locking onto yours, a mischievous glint in them.
"My favorite, baby." He added with a wink, grinning as he noticed how the simple action made you flush. You pretended to be distracted by a limited edition book on the shelf, your heart racing as you tried to avoid his piercing gaze. This was certainly not the place or time. Everyone held their breath as the woman dribbled a few drops of acid on top of the gold. The liquid sizzled slightly, emitting a faint, acrid smell that filled the small shop. "Well, it ain't plated, and it ain't painted," she assessed, her tone now more serious. "Ma'am, I'm telling ya, this is as real as the day is long," He insisted, growing tired of the back and forth, his patience wearing thin.
"It looks like someone tried to melt it down," she raised a brow, her eyes meeting JJ's in a challenging gaze. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken accusations. "My mom," You stepped in, linking your arm through JJ's as the pawnbroker eyed you both suspiciously. "She had all this jewelry laying around the house, and she thought it was best to melt it down to "consolidate" it." You tried to sound as convincing as possible, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. The lie felt heavy on your tongue, but you pushed through, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sarah bite her lip to stop the laugh that she almost let out at your evident lie. The pawnbrokers gaze flickered between you and JJ, her skepticism evident. The silence stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. Turning around with a sigh, she placed the gold into a small scale behind the counter, the scale creaked under the weight. "Seven pounds," Her eyes widened. "That's a lot of earrings." Her voice had a hint of disbelief, and you could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to piece together your story.
"Okay, to be honest, ma'am," JJ spoke, clearing his throat and adopting a more somber tone. "It's really hard to see my fiancé's mom fall apart with Alzheimer's. Breaks my heart, truly." His voice wavered slightly, adding an authentic touch to the fabricated story. "Give me a minute." She tsked, walking towards a secluded office. JJ nodded solemnly, playing into the act of the heartbroken fiancé. "Take your time, ma'am." As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to give JJ a look of disbelief. "Alzheimer's really?" You whispered, trying to keep your voice low. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle, and you could feel a nervous giggle bubbling up inside you.
"So I talked to my boss, and this is what I can do." The pawnbroker returned, holding a piece of paper with a price written on it. Inspecting it, JJ raised his brows. "Fifty thousand?" He repeated, his voice tinged with incredulity. The offer was far lower than what you had hoped for, and you could see the frustration building in JJ's eyes. "You think I walked in here not knowin' the spot price?" JJ retorted, his voice firm. "I know for a fact this is worth 140 at least." His confidence was unwavering, and you could see the pawnbroker's resolve starting to crack. "Well sweetie, you in a pawn shop. This ain't Zurich." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of concession in her tone.
"Ninety, or I walk," He bargained, his voice steady. "Seventy, half price, and I don't ask questions about where you got this.â JJ clenched his jaw, looking over at John B, who nodded his head, giving him the green light. "I'm gonna need that in large denominations, please," JJ agreed, his voice calm but resolute. "Well, here's the snag, I don't have that much denominated. Not here anyway, but I can write you a cashier's check." JJ immediately shook his head. âNo maâam, I want the cold hard, thatâs what that sign says. Cash for gold, and thatâs what I expect.â He pointed to the sign on the wall as emphasis.
âWell, I have to send you to the warehouse. I have the money there. Is that alright?â Everyone in the room held their breath, watching as JJ mentally weighed his options over in his head. âWhereâs this warehouse?â He finally asked, his voice steady but with a hint of skepticism. That is how the group found themselves further into the middle of nowhere following the pawnbroker's instructions to the supposed "warehouse". The road was rough and winding, lined with tall, ominous trees that seemed to close in on them as they drove deeper into the unknown.
To say you were on edge would have been a complete understatement. Every creak of the van and small jolt from where you were seated on JJ's lap made your heart race faster. "So, they keep money out here?" Pope voiced aloud the question everyone was probably thinking. His voice broke the silence, but instead of easing the tension, it only seemed to heighten it. The unease in his tone mirrored the anxiety that had settled in your chest. JJ shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. "That's what she said," He chuckled at his own joke. "That's what she said." His snicker was met with silence, the gravity of their situation overshadowing any chance of humor.
"Stop," Pope warned, his expression hardening. The seriousness in his eyes was a stark contrast to JJ's attempt at levity. "That was cute, but definitely not the time, J," You exasperated, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear and uncertainty in your tone were unmistakable. The blonde boy nodded, his playful demeanor fading. He held onto the melted gold in one hand, the other resting reassuringly on your thigh. The warmth of his touch was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming tension. "I've never even heard of Resurrection Drive." Sarah inquired. "That's cause your rich." JJ mumbled under his breath.
"You've never heard of it either." Both you and Kiara retorted in unison. "Thank you." Sarah replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "There's nothing but weeds back here." Kiara informed the group, looking out the van's window and seeing nothing but shrubbery. JJ was about to retort with another sarcastic comment, yet he was interrupted by the sudden, piercing sound of a siren. The noise sliced through the tense silence like a knife. Sure enough, John B looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes widening as he saw the flashing lights of a car behind them, signaling for them to pull over.
"Cops? Out here?" Kiara questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you kidding me!" JJ fumed, his grip tightening on the gold and your thigh, the panic in his eyes was evident. "What did we do?" Sarah questioned, her voice small and wavering, the fear clear in her tone. "Stash that," John B whispered urgently to JJ, who was still holding onto the gold in his hand. You quickly got off his lap and sat next to Kiara, your heart pounding in your chest. The van's interior felt even more confined as Pope and John B coaxed JJ to hurry up. The oppressive weight of the situation pressed down on you, making every second feel like an eternity as you waited for what would happen next.
Your heart sank in your chest upon hearing the cock of a gun and seeing a rifle a few inches away from John B's face. The metallic click echoed ominously in the confined space of the van. "Why don't I go ahead and see them hands in the air?" A gruff voice declared, belonging to a mystery assailant who wore a bandana on the lower half of his face. The fear that gripped your heart quickly morphed into a seething anger. You knew that voice. "All of y'alls hands up in the air right now." Oh hell no, you thought to yourself. This was going to end here and now. "No," You seethed, making direct eye contact with your assailant. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew you recognized him, and his cover slipped slightly.
The tension in the van was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring into action. The familiarity of the voice only fueled your anger, making it harder to think clearly. You could feel the eyes of your friends on you, their fear and confusion mirroring your own. "Just do as he says, Y/N," John B urged, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his fear. He slowly raised his hands, setting an example for the rest of you. "No," You shook your head, challenging him. The defiance in your voice was clear. The assailant's eyes narrowed behind the bandana.
"Alright, tough girl, come on out here then," He taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Y/N, what are you doing?" Sarah whimpered, her voice trembling as she watched you step out of the van, the barrel of the gun trained on you. "It's gonna be okay, Sarah," You reassured her, trying to keep your voice calm despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "Y/N!" This time it was JJ. His voice cracked with desperation. As your eyes met his, you could see he was barely holding it together, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "JJ, trust me, stay here," You coaxed, trying to project as much confidence as you could muster. The last thing you needed was for him to do something reckless.
"I'd listen to the lady, unless you want your brain scattered here on the side of the road," The assailant threatened, his voice cold and unyielding. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding to the already suffocating tension. "I'll be okay, I'll be right back," You promised, hoping your words would be enough to keep your friends from doing anything rash. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was to come, and stepped further away from the van, feeling the eyes of your friends burning into your back. Once you were a safe distance away from the van, Barry lowered his rifle, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Mighty brave of you, Cameron, especially 'cause I'm the one holdin' the gun." He mocked.
"Oh please," You rolled your eyes, your voice laced with disdain. "Drop the act, Barry," Addressing him by his name with a tone of authority, you crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground. "We both know Rafe will kill you if you so much as lay a finger on me." You smirked confidently. "Now, why don't we cut to the chase, shall we?" You proposed, your eyes never leaving his as you reached for the shiny gold diamond ring that adorned your knuckle. Barry watched in disbelief as you slipped it off and held it out to him. "Here," You coaxed, handing him the ring. "This will get you a couple thousand dollars if you pawn it off right." Barry took the ring, studying it in the sunlight. "This covers what you and your friends got, but not what country club owes me, you feel me.â
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest once more, the frustration evident in your posture. "How much does he owe you?" You asked, your voice tinged with exasperation. "At least two hundred," Barry replied, a smirk playing on his lips. Sighing, you reached into your back pocket for your wallet, picking out two hundred dollar bills. "Are we free to go?" You huffed, knowing that if this deal took any longer, your boyfriend would most likely come and take matters into his own hands, whether Barry had a gun or not. "Tell your boy toy that his attitude's gonna get him in trouble," Barry sneered. "Don't," You spat, your eyes narrowing. "If you even think of touching him, we're going to have a problem. You feel me?" You threw back his previous words with a defiant glare.
Raising his hands in mock surrender "Damn, looks like I hit a nerve." Barry chuckled. "I mean it, Barry," You insisted, your voice steady and unwavering. With one final smirk in your direction, Barry pockets the cash and the ring and climbs into his car without a single look back in your direction. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and turn back towards the van. As you approached, the tension was palpable, hanging thick in the air. "What the hell was that?" Sarah was the first to question you, her eyes wide with concern as you climbed into the backseat as if nothing had happened.
"I handled it, it's over." You shrugged nonchalantly, but the tightness in your chest betrayed your calm facade. Sarah scoffed, clearly unconvinced by your bravado. "That was pretty stupid, Y/N," Kiara scolded, her voice filled with frustration. Everyone nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of worry and disapproval. You shrugged them off, trying to meet JJ's eyes, who had yet to say anything. You could see the worry and anger battling for dominance in his eyes, the tension in his jaw making it clear just how much he was holding back. "Let's get out of here," John B broke the silence, his voice a calm command that cut through the tension. Everyone was unharmed, yet you somehow knew this was far from over.
Arriving back at the ChĂąteau, you watched JJ throw open the door before John B even parked his van. The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoed through the air. You watched as JJ stormed inside, his movements quick and agitated. One hand was gripping his chest, his knuckles white from the pressure, while the other was balled into a tight fist, veins visible under his skin. He didn't look back, his anger propelling him forward. John B, Kiara, Sarah, and Pope turned to you, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. It was as if they were silently asking if they should get involved, their eyes darting between you and the direction JJ had gone.
"I'll handle it," You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. You stepped down from the van, the gravel crunching under your feet. "Good luck," John B sing-songed, a teasing lilt in his voice. You flipped him off with a smirk, hearing Sarah and Kiara scold him in unison. Their voices faded as you walked through the door, the familiar scent of the ChĂąteau enveloping you. You found JJ in the spare bedroom, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His footsteps were heavy, each step reverberating through the wooden floor. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a storm of emotions - anger, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability.
"JJ, talk to me," You urged softly, stepping closer. Your voice was calm, trying to soothe the tempest within him. He stopped pacing and turned to face you fully. His expression was a mix of anger and hurt, his jaw clenched tightly. "What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? You could've gotten yourself killed!" His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear behind his anger. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "He's the scumbag who sells coke to my brother. I know him and what he's capable of. As much of a psychotic asshole as he is, he wouldn't hurt me. Not without facing Rafe's wrath." That only made JJ angrier. "How are you so sure?"
He shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, the space between you shrinking. "Maybe next time you won't be so lucky, or I won't be there to protect you." His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could see the worry etched into his features, mingling with the anger. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his breathing was ragged. "I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound reassuring. "It's over now." "Over?!" JJ's voice rose, and he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Dammit Y/N, you don't get it!" He screamed, pulling his hair in frustration. "I was fucking terrified. Did you know how scared I felt, watching the woman I love being held at gunpoint?" His voice broke, and you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, though he tried to blink them away.
You opened your mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and significant. "What did you just say?" You finally managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. JJ stayed quiet, almost as if processing the words himself. His breathing slowed, and he looked away, his shoulders slumping. The vulnerability in his stance was palpable, and it hit you just how deeply he cared. This was more than just anger; it was fear of losing someone he couldn't bear to lose. "JJ," You coaxed to stop him from overthinking, knowing that his flight or fight mode was kicking in.
JJ's confession hung in the air, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart ache. You could see the fear and love in his eyes, and it made everything else fade away. The room seemed to shrink, and all that mattered was the two of you, standing there, vulnerable and exposed. "I love you, Y/N," He repeated, his voice softer this time, filled with a desperate need for you to understand. He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. Your breath hitched, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your hands reaching up to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, JJ," You whispered, your voice trembling.
"I didn't mean to scare you, but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing either." His eyes softened, the anger melting away as he leaned into your touch. "Just promise me you'll be more careful," He murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I can't lose you, Y/N." He whimpered leaning his forehead against yours. "You wonât lose me, ever, I promise," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, you both closed the distance between one another, your lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and fervent. It was a kiss that spoke of all the fear, the love, and the relief you both felt. Bodies pressed together, seeking comfort and connection, hearts beating as one.
âAnd I love you too,â You grinned the second he pulled away giving you both a moment to catch your breaths. âIn case that kiss didnât make it clear enough.â JJ shook his head, only pulling you closer. "What do you say we seal the deal?" JJ grinned suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're lucky I love you." He didn't even give you a chance to finish his sentence before he kissed you again, wanting to show you just how much he meant it. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer, the heat between you growing more intense. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that promised so much more to come.
#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank smut#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x you#outerbanks#obx fic#obx#outer banks#obx fandom#jj maybank x cameron!reader#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj x reader#jj maybank x reader smut#jj maybank x reader angst#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x fem!pogue reader#p4l#rudy pankow#rudy pankow x reader
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jj would definitely get a a prince albert piercing one night while drunk.
admittedly, the next morning while dealing with a hangover, he would regret it. Especially with the throbbing pain, and uncomfortable tug of it against his boxers. Best believe the only reason he did it was because John B said he wouldnât. And of course, Pope knew he would.
but, it wasnât all bad. Matter of fact, it wasnât bad at all. Especially when you sat there, naked with your nipples hardened from the unwelcomingly cold air, on your knees with your pretty tongue swirling around the piercing once it had healed. He looked the prettiest like this. His head thrown back, mouth hung agape and at a loss for words as you suckled his leaking tip into your mouthâmaking sure to pay extra attention to his piercing.
and he completely forgot about why he regretted it in the first place. Especially when you laid quivering under him, eyes dazed and fucked out with your hands balled into fists against the sheets, moans stuttering out brokenly as his pierced tip drags along your inner walls. âSo good. Yâfeel so good, jjââ you muttered out over and over again, chanting it like it was your religion.
âGotta thank John B later then, huh?â
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god's test (fic)
jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by this song amongst others
content warning: abusive parents; allusions to s3xual abuse; drug use/misuse; sexual content (female and male receiving; p in v); unhealthy relationships; brief mentions/discussions of fertility | Some heavy themes in this so please feel free to message if you're unsure.
word count: 18k.
blurb: what if the Pogues never found El Dorado? Life in survival mode at the age of twenty-two sure had lost its shine. In that tarnish, JJ wonders if your relationship has too.
âTo have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til' death do us part.â
JJ sits crossed legged on the floor of his living room. To his right is a half empty can of Coke and to his left is the plastic case for the VHS tape which is currently whirring in the player, displayed on the TV through grainy, wibbly lines. His bright blonde hair sticks every which way. The Goodwill sourced t-shirt is too big on his frame but his dad insisted heâd grow into it, and to stop his moaning and bitching. Be grateful, was his last warning. The shorts on his skinny legs seem to be getting smaller everyday, perhaps because JJ only seems to get taller. That slight discomfort is a lost thought right now. Instead, JJ is glued to the wedding video on the screen. Glued to the image of his mother, smiling up at his father, the two of them unaged and undamaged. The two of them are in love.Â
âI do,â JJâs dad, Luke, says in an almost unrecognisable tone. Then, he leans forward at the officiantâs approval and kisses JJâs mother. JJ misses her deeply. His heart squeezes at the sight of her smile, turning to the camera with a beam. He finds his own lips twitching up too as if her happiness is contagious. Then the tape cuts suddenly to the reception. It seems a small affair with only a handful of friends and family. JJ can place his uncle and aunt, who cradles his cousin Ricky in her arms, and a few more of his dadâs crowd of so-called friends. His mother can be seen in the background talking to her parents - JJâs grandparents. Theyâd made themselves scarce after she walked out on JJ and his dad. Never once did JJ think heâd lose not only his mother but his grandparents too. Loneliness likes company, it seems.Â
Another sudden cut and itâs his parents dancing. Their first dance. The dark lighting of the hall messes with the low-quality cam-corder's exposure. Theyâre painted in rays of shadows and glow almost ethereal-like as they sway to the music. Luke whispers something in his new wifeâs ear and she giggles, soundless as the crooning voice of Rod Stewart sings their wedding song: âHave I Told You Latelyâ. JJ grins. He decides then and there, at the big age of eight, that thatâs what he wants. That sort of happiness. As if blinded by the cinema of it all, he forgets the reality. The mess that surrounds him in the neglected house; the absence of his mother and the recklessness of his father; the strange definition of love thatâs been tied to the Maybank name.Â
So distracted by the tape, JJ doesnât hear his dad rouse in the other room. He doesnât hear the sound of the creaking door or the aching floorboards, and when he finally catches sight of Luke staggering down the hallway, itâs too late. His dad has caught sound of the song and itâs as if heâs intoxicated again, only now with rage. He glares at JJ and makes a b-line to the television screen, coming face to face with his hidden wedding tape. He had no idea JJ had found it and stashed it for his own safe keeping.Â
âWhat the damn hell do you think youâre doing?â he barks, turning to JJ. He grabs him by the shoulder with one hand and hoists him onto his feet. JJâs tiny body floods with terror. His feet go numb and cold and his face burning hot. âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing, huh boy!?âÂ
JJ flinches at his fatherâs tone. His lip quivers. âIâŠI only wantedââ
âYou only wanted to what, huh? Stealing things like the no-good son-of-a-bitch you are, eh?â Luke hollers, spit flying from his mouth and onto JJâs rosy skin.Â
âI just wanted to see mama,â JJ blubbers.Â
âYou ainât ever seeinâ her again, you hear me?â Luke shouts. He tosses JJ back onto the floor. He lands on his backside with a smack, flinching at the feeling, and looks up to see his dad aggressively messing with the player. A new wave of panic comes over JJ as he jumps to his feet, darting forward for the tape before his dad can snap it in two. To JJ, it isnât just a stupid VHS. Itâs his mother.Â
âNo! Gimme it!â JJ screeches, scratching and clawing at his fatherâs arms as he attempts to wrestle the tape from his hold. His small hand latches around it moments before Lukeâs own smacks him clean across the cheek. The force sends him flying onto his side, reuniting with the floor. Sobbing, JJ clutches the tape close to his chest. His dad yells abuse at JJ, tumbling cuss words in casually amongst his berates. Keeping the tape close and safe to his stomach, JJ manages to his feet and faces up to his father. An anger that heâs never known before takes control. âI hate you!âÂ
Before his dad can lunge for him again, JJ darts for the front door. He almost trips down the stairs in his hurry. The sound of his dadâs footsteps behind him sound like a giantâs, pounding against the floorboards. He chokes on his sobs as he sprints away from the house. Iâm never coming back, he thinks to himself. Thatâll show him. He doesnât dare check to see if his dad is following. Not until heâs well away from the house, almost completely shot of breath, panting and heaving, no tears left to cry. Finally, he stops. He looks down at the tape with shaking hands to find it safe and intact. Luke and Marieâs Wedding Tape, it says in black sharpie across the front. He hugs it against him as if hugging his mother.
The moment of tranquillity is broken by a loud whoop and holler. His head flashes to the side to find a girl climbing on the old pier. Itâs nearly completely decayed, broken down by a hurricane a few years back. Now itâs just pillars of wood, splintering and misaligned.
Some adult on the new pier is yelling at you. âIâll tell your father, missy! You listeninâ? You get down from there now!â Beside them are some friends, blissfully ignoring the warnings, cheering you on. You turn to them and JJ catches sight of your smile. It reminds him of his motherâs and a warm feeling sparks somewhere in his chest, as if lighting a match in a damp cave. The sun twinkles above your head and thatâs when JJ notices the streak of hot pink in your hair. Woah - Cool. And then youâre falling - hurling yourself into the air and flying down into the water - out of sight. He takes a step forward, as if to do something, and waits anxiously with the others for you to re-emerge. You break to the surface with a cackle. Your friends erupt in cheers and you giggle, splashing water as if aiming for them despite being metres down below the pier. And then you look straight at JJ. It's just for a second, only a second, but a second was enough. Eight-year-old JJ Maybank was in love.
6 Years Later
Confidence is a powerful armour. It makes you almost untouchable. Nobody messes with the mouthy kid. The kid who gets in fights; the kid who makes the room laugh. JJ knew what it was like to be on the bottom of the food chain and he was never going to willingly put himself there. At school, he made himself a staple. A delinquent, known for his short fuse and reckless choices. It kept the bullyâs off his scent and gave him a good outlet for the repressed anger and hatred he held towards his father. Though, the older he got (now fourteen), the more JJ fought back. His dad could no longer throw him to the ground as easily. Not now that JJ had taken up working out and picking fights in the school yard. Luke wasnât the only one who knew how to throw a right-hook now. And the most important lesson JJ had learnt? Never let them see you cry.Â
The downsides? Cut lips, lingering bruises, and detention. So much detention.Â
âNice of you to join us, Maybank,â the teacher mutters, not bothering to look up from his newspaper as JJ loiters into the classroom after school on Thursday.Â
âHappy to be back, sir,â JJ casually returns. He scribbles his name down on the sign up sheet, confirming his attendance, then scans the room.
Thereâs the regulars: Tommy Peach, whoâs always doing time for selling whatever pills he can get his hands on in the parking lot; Ashley, who has a habit of smoking in the girlâs bathrooms; Colin, who got spotted with a gun in his backpack just the other day, supposedly just to âshow it offâ; and Pearl, who skipped three classes in one day (her record being four and a half). He catches her eye and winks - theyâd made out behind the bike shed last week. You can spot the one-time offenders easily. Theyâre usually hanging their head at the very back, biting back tears, full of shame for letting down mommy and daddy. JJ had a certain distaste for them. He supposed it was because he knew his father could give less of a crap if JJ wound up in detention. If anything, JJ preferred it. Less time for him to be in his house and less risk of getting a beating for some slip-up. This time, the new offender is Patty Grayson - a goody-two-shoes smarty pants who had forgotten her homework. JJâs surprised they didnât let it slide given her track record. Finally, his eyes land on another new timer.Â
Youâre not hanging your head as if praying for forgiveness, nor are you sobbing your apologies into the abyss. No: you look rather comfortable and - if anything - bored, as you lounge in your seat. A bottle of silver nail polish sits on the desk as you paint your nails. As if feeling his stare, you glance up and meet his gaze. You frown. Right, yeah, Iâm being weird. JJ decides to take a seat next to you. He watches you in his peripheral vision for a while as you paint and paint. At one point, the teacher heads to the staff kitchen for dinner, giving a half-arsed warning about sneaking out. Pearl is happy to skip detention, probably addicted to the thrill, but everyone else stays sat. Suddenly, you look at JJ.Â
âCan I help you?â
âHuh?â
âYou keep looking at me,â you say, irritated.Â
âI do?â
âUh huh.â
âWell, yâknowâŠâ You quirk a brow, waiting for his reply, and JJ scrambles for one. âYour hair.â
You frown. âWhat?â
âYour hair,â JJ uselessly repeats.Â
âWhat about it?â
âItâs purple.â
âYeah. I dye it. Itâs not my natural colour, idiot,â you reply.Â
âIt looks nice,â JJ tells you. Youâre visibly taken back, blinking at him for a second.Â
âOh,â you mumble, lifting a hand to pet it, âthanks.â
âYou ainât ever been to detention before, right?â JJ checks, finding it easier to converse now that youâve calmed down.Â
You laugh. It sounds just the same as when you were little, from the first time JJ saw you, but only deeper. More mature. âCause Iâm good at not gettinâ caught, unlike you.â
âOh, you been keepinâ tabs on me or somethinâ?â JJ grins.Â
âYou hold the record for the most detentions, Maybank. Sorta puts you on the map," you say with a roll of your eyes.Â
Holy shit, she knows my name.Â
âMaybe youâll have to teach me your ways some time,â JJ smoothly quips.Â
Shaking your head, you turn your focus back to painting your nails. âI work alone.â
Like some dork, JJ watches you for a while. Something tells him you know he is as thereâs this little smile on your lips. His eyes trail down from your face to your arms and soon to your hands. Your knuckles are bruised and scabbed over and JJ frowns, curious and concerned despite having only just officially met you. Ever since the day at the pier back when he was eight, JJ had been vaguely aware of your existence. You were in the year above at school and undeniably cool. Heâd seen you skating in the parking lot, caught you getting lectured for shoplifting at the local grocery shop for a candy bar, noticed you helping (who he assumed was) your dad fish, and seen you from time to time in the halls. The only person who was aware of his infatuation was John B, who tortured JJ relentlessly for it. Over the years, your hair has undergone many changes. At one point it was buzzed completely off. He didnât see you much that year, come to think. Now it hangs just past your shoulders, a deep, enticing purple. It caught him off guard because only last week it was royal blue. Not that he was keeping track or anythingâŠ
âHere.â
JJ snaps out of his daydream to find you holding out something to him. A thin, white stick, rolled rather wonky.Â
âYou want some?â
âWonât we get caught?â JJ reflexively asks.Â
âBoo. Pussy,â you teasingly return, retracting the offer. You briefly glance to the doorway before retrieving a lighter: bright, shiny silver and square. You light the end and take a drag. Thereâs a sweet, sickly smell that comes from it.Â
âI ainât a pussy,â JJ counters. Thereâs a smirk on your face as he takes the joint from you, guiding it to his lips to inhale. It catches uncomfortably in his throat and chest, making him cough. Laughing, you consolingly pat his back. He clenches his eyes shut: so embarrassing.Â
âYou good?â you giggle.Â
âNever better,â JJ manages out through his chokes, giving you a shaky thumbs up.Â
âFirst time?â
He shakes his head but youâre unconvinced. Smiling, you dig about in your pocket to retrieve a set of house keys. JJ watches as you scratch something into the metal of your lighter. He takes another hit of the joint as you do so, managing better this second time around. As he goes to hand it back, you trade him for your lighter.Â
âHere,â you say, passing it to him. He takes it and looks at your inscription. JJ. His lips twitch in a smile. Glancing to you, you light-heartedly explain, âyour first stoner lighter.â
As you finish taking another drag, the teacherâs footsteps sound from down the hall. Cool as a cat, you put the joint out on the underside of your chair and slip it back into a little metal box decorated with Powerpuff Girls stickers. It slips safely into your bag just as the teacher rounds into the room. At first, JJ worries youâre caught, as the teacherâs finger singles you out. But then he tosses his thumb over his shoulder.Â
âYour dadâs here early to pick you up,â he tells you.Â
If youâre happy to be leaving early, you donât show it. If JJ didnât know better, heâd even say youâre reluctant as you pack up your stuff. Shucking your backpack over your shoulder, you flash JJ a smile, rising to your feet.Â
âWell, hopefully Iâll see you around, Maybank.â
âYeah, same here,â JJ says, smiling.Â
You walk past the desk and head out the door. JJâs sure itâs the effect of you rather than the weed that leaves him feeling more dazed than ever before in his life.Â
Two Years Later
What better way to lay-low than by throwing a kegger? JJâs logic was undisputed. Not only had he encouraged the Pogues to hang onto the money and the gun that they'd found in the motel room, but he also got them to throw a last-minute gathering at the Boneyard. Honestly, his genius should be rewarded.Â
As he mingles through the ever growing crowd, the sun growing darker by the minutes, JJ peruses the options. Some tourons had shown up: clueless but eager as they got roped into drinking games and conversations, and hit on constantly by locals. The kooks were mostly keeping to themselves, happy to drink the beers and cans brought by the people on the cut. Typical. Pearl catches JJâs eye and she tips her cup at him in greeting from across the way, a seductive glint in her eyes and a telling message in her smile. JJ lazily tosses a hand up in return. Theyâd hooked up a few times now but he wasnât feeling it tonight.
As if guided by fate, you come perfectly into JJâs line of sight. Youâre drinking from a red solo cup, chatting with some of your friends, pretty in an oversized tee and shorts. Again, just as you had in detention two years prior, your eyes catch onto his. This time, you smile. Saying something to your friend before heading over to JJ (whoâs half certain he hit his head earlier and might be hallucinating).Â
âEnjoying yourself?â JJ asks the minute youâre in front of him. Heâs taller now. Ever growing in his confidence; sex does that to a guy. It makes them feel invincible.Â
âIâm guessing your group is the one to thank for this kegger then?âÂ
JJ grins. âWe know how to throw a good party.â
âIâll say,â you smile. âI wish there was more music though.â
âYou dance?â
âSometimes. If Iâm with the right person,â comes your sly response, smiling up at him. âYou look different since detention.â
JJ would like to think so: that was two years ago. âReally? Different how?â
âTaller. Fitter.â
âHotter?â
You laugh as you say, âyouâre pretty sure of yourself, huh?â
âI was told confidence is sexy,â JJ returns. âWhatâd you think?â
You donât say anything but JJ knows he isnât crazy when you take a sip of your drink, your eyes scanning over his body leisurely as you do. You give a small hum.Â
âSo, got tired of the purple?â JJ asks, gesturing to your hair. Itâs long now and seemingly your natural hue again, like it was that day at the pier all those years ago. Thereâs now little strands of tinsel in it that reflect different colours in a silverish shine depending on how the light hits it. Your nose ring is new too, though JJ noticed that the minute you had that done. He noticed you a lot, even if he never spoke to you. You never did to him so he just assumed to stay clear. Besides, there was a rumour that you went out with Tommy Peach a few months back and JJ didnât feel like getting his ass handed to him. JJ was good at fighting now, as unfortunate as that was to admit, and he was aware he was in good shape, but Tommy was feral and tall. God knows why you wanted to go out with a scumbag like that, but JJ supposed he wasnât much of a step up either.Â
âMy dad hated it,â you say. âAnd I wanted a change.â
âShame. I liked the purple.â
âSo you donât like it like this?â you wonder. âBummer. I was gonna try and shoot my shot with you but guess Iâve lost my chanceâŠâ
JJâs eyes somehow donât fall out of his head. He chuckles, almost nervously, and clears his throat. âSay what?â
You roll your eyes . âWhen a girl gives you her lighter and says she hopes she sees you around, JJ, itâs her way of saying âyouâre cute, we should hangâ.â
Oh.Â
Laughing, as if hearing his inner monologue, you shrug. âGuess I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Lucky for you, Iâm two beers in and that seems like enough confidence to come overâ
âTwo beers? I donât wanna be taking advantage of you,â JJ teases, making you laugh.Â
âCanât believe youâre accusing me of being a lightweight when you nearly died after smoking your first joint.â
âWoah! Low blow!â
âI thought Iâd murdered you! I was scared you were allergic or some shit,â you giggle.Â
JJ grins down at you and tries to retrace his steps to how he got here, stood on the beach, talking to you and having you actively hit on him. It feels like a wet dream heâd concoct on lonely nights. He stays in that borderline stupor as the two of you talk and talk. Youâre funny, but JJ already knew that, and youâre an adrenaline junky too, but JJ knew that as well. The two of you like the same kind of music so that leads to a huge discussion which almost becomes an argument of who was better: Kid Cudi or J. Cole? The more the drinks flow, the more your hand finds solace on his thigh, and the more his on yours. Soon enough JJ's footâs rubbing leisurely at your ankle, personal space a long disputed myth, and heâs fighting the urge to kiss you. Heâs not sure why heâs dragging it out when youâre obviously into him. Maybe he just wants to keep the anticipation alive for a little bit longer. After all, heâs wanted this since he was eight years old.Â
The moment is interrupted by someone hollering your name. As you look up, JJ realises how dark it is. Itâs officially night now with the moon high in the sky. A few people have pulled on sweaters as the evening has cooled, especially with the seafront breeze, but JJ feels burning hot. He spots someone waving at you and beside them is a girl crouched in the sand. You cuss and get up.Â
âThatâs my friend. I better go help,â you hurriedly explain. You pass JJ your empty cup and give an apologetic smile. Then, you press a brief kiss to his lips. It's so brief that it barely feels real, and JJ doesnât register it until youâre already walking away. âIâll be back soon! Sorry!â
JJ watches as you hurry over and help out your vomiting buddy. Sighing, bummed, he looks around and tries to track down his friends. The alcohol hits him when he stands, flooding from his brain, down to his body like ice cold water. He staggers for only a moment in the direction of John B, filling up the cups in his hands on the way as if willingly ignoring his bodyâs messages. He whistles out to catch his best friendâs attention, offering him one of the cupâs of beer. But Sarah Cameron and her douchebag boyfriend Topper make their way past, and something inside of JJ seeks mayhem. He offers it out to her instead but Topper tries to lay claim.Â
âThatâs nice of you man, but I didnât ask you,â JJ returns. âIf you said âpretty pleaseâ, maybe. But you didnât.â
âOh! Pretty please!â a squiffy Topper checks.Â
âYeah,â JJ replies. âSo, Sarah, I promiseââ
The beer hits JJâs face in a non-refreshing wake-up. His anger tips quick like a nuclear bomb. His hands come up to Topperâs shirt, grabbing him before shoving him back. John Bâs hand comes up to JJâs chest, firmly trying to hold him back.Â
âYouâre so funny man!â JJ sarcastically urges. Before he can push it further, Topper says something that has John B lurching at him and soon enough, a full on fist fight begins. Pope is quick to intervene with JJ, holding him back, and no matter how much the latter struggles, he canât seem to get to his best friend. Concerning seeps into the anger as he watches Topper lay into John B, kicking him into the water. And then pride when John B starts to fight back. âGive it to him, man!â
The night feels as though itâs split into two as JJ loses himself in watching the fight. His conversation with you might have happened years ago as his attention homes in on the flying fists and chants of the watchers. And then it all turns sour. Topper holds John B down into the water, face smushed into the sand, and all he can hear is Sarah begging for him to stop. JJ fidgets nervously, eager to do something, unsure of what. Then, another genius idea.Â
It feels out of body as he retrieves the gun and checks the safety. As he makes his way over to the water and presses it against Topperâs head. It doesnât feel like heâs in control of his body when JJ clicks the safety off. Topper stills beneath him.
âYeah, you know what that is,â he warns through clenched teeth. âYour move, broski.â
Nothing but the waves. Nothing but his heartbeat. Nothing but John Bâs choked breathes in the water.Â
âPut the gun down!â
âDid you say something, princess?â JJ asks Sarah, focus on Topperâs hands. Eventually, they lift off John Bâs weak body. The rich asshole repeats that theyâre good and JJ shoves him down. But heâs still so angry. Heâs always so angry. The mentality comes back from when he first started school. Never be the weak one. Never let them get the upper hand. Assert your dominance. He raises the gun into the air and turns to the dying crowd. âOkay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!â
The gun fires twice, the recoil minimal. It cracks in the silence of the night. A few people scream, alarmed, and then they start to run.Â
JJ comes back to his body when Kiara shoves him. An argument breaks out between himself, Pope and Kie, and as the two others rush to help John B (who collapses back into the waves), JJ finally remembers the night. The whole night. He remembers you. As he looks out into the mass of bodies rushing away from the scene of the almost crime, he spots you. You look conflicted, for only a second, and then you leave too.Â
Shit.Â
The next day, JJ kills the time in the mid-morning with target practice in the back yard. The cops had swung by earlier and he thought it right to celebrate keeping the gun. Your whistle sounds like a birdcall. JJâs head whips around at the sound, startled, and it seems to amuse you. He lowers his gun and frowns, confused at the sight of you.Â
âHow dâyou know I live here?â
âI have my sources,â you smile, tapping the side of your nose. You wander leisurely into his back yard toward him as if youâve been there thousands of times before. Nodding to the gun in his hand, you quirk a brow. âSo, they didnât take it off you?â
âLet me off with a warning,â JJ shrugs. âThey couldnât find the gun and have no proof that I kept itâŠâ
âAh. Loopholes,â you hum.Â
When you come to a pause beside him, JJ awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. âLook, Iâm real sorry about last night. I didnât mean to freak you out.â
âFreak me out how?â you frown.Â
âWith the wholeâŠgunâŠthing.â
Laughing, you shake your head. âThat ainât why I left JJ.â
âIt ainât?â
âNo! I mean, Topper looked as though he wasnât gonna let up, so,â you say, shrugging in agreement with JJâs previous actions. âI just canât go back to prison anytime soon. My dadâll kill me.â
âBack to prison?â JJ says. He shouldnât be as impressed (or turned on) by that as he is.Â
âOoo, the big scary place, I know,â you grin, teasing, before randomly making a grab for the gun. JJ barks out a laugh, holding it up and out of reach. âCome on! Lemme have a go!â
âYou ever shoot before?â JJ asks, eyeing you up.Â
Rolling your eyes, you nod. âWe have a BB in our house that I fire around all the time. I wanna see how this one feels.â
âI donât know. I shouldnât give a weapon to a known criminal, right?â JJ says, tone almost flirtatious.Â
âCome on. You can do the whole âlet me show youâ thing.â
Lowering the gun, JJ chuckles, befuddled. âThe what?â
âYou know! When guys wanna feel a girl up they pretend to teach them how to do stuff. Like a tennis instructor or something. Theyâre all like âlet me show youâ.â
âYou tellinâ me you got a tennis instructor?âÂ
âYeah, and a mansion with three yachts - now come on!â
Shaking his head, laughing, JJ relents. He hands you the gun, safety on, and partly to follow along with your joke, but mostly to feel your body close to his, JJ stands almost fully behind you. He checks which is your dominant hand and guides your arms up into position. He shifts the position of your fingers. Your hair catches slightly in the wind and the smell of fruit and herbs dulls his senses. When he speaks again, you giggle.Â
âYour breath tickles,â you mutter.Â
âIt does?â JJ checks, purposefully speaking even closer against the skin of your neck. You squirm and laugh and JJ has no idea how any of this happened, but he sure as hell isnât complaining. âYou gotta keep still.âÂ
As if to coax you to do so, JJ plants one of his hands on the side of your waist. Your breathing seems to catch with that, all giggles dead on your tongue, and JJ struggles to bite back his smirk. His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder as he follows your line of vision. You click the safety off under his instruction and then fire. He feels the power of the gun run down your arms, the recoil making your body jilt only slightly. Clicking the safety on again, you lower the gun and turn your head. Eyes half-hooded, you look up from his lips into his eyes. JJ notices a small, relatively fresh cut under your eye. Was that there last night? That train of thought derails when your tongue peaks out, dampening your lips. JJ loses all patience. His lips are on yours, kissing you, hand tightening just so on your side. You carelessly drop the gun to the floor and turn in his hold. Hands on his face, on his shoulders, around his neck, in his hairâŠJJ kisses you until heâs not sure what his name is anymore. Even then, he kisses you still.Â
From there, the two of you were intertwined in one anotherâs lives. There was no other way to put it: JJ adored you. It was as if you constantly shared a common thought: JJ had never met someone so like himself. Two sides of the same stone. The Pogues noticed it easily. You didnât exactly have to ask to join the gang. The fact that JJ trusted you enough to bring you around spoke volumes to his friends. Theyâd never met one of his previous situationships or flings before, and from that they could recognise this was something different. Seeing the two of you together just drove that point home faster. Birds of a feather. When the wild goose chase surrounding the Royal Merchant cropped up, you joined that too. Pope joked that there was something wrong with your amygdala, which upon explanation meant that you seemed to have a pretty low fear factor. It came after you literally wrestled Barry for the gun when they got held at gunpoint. All youâd done was shrug and said that youâd known âtrue fearâ and that wasnât it. Nobody knew what that meant, including JJ, but he had a feeling that he might after he dropped you home one time.Â
The Chateau had become almost as familiar to you as it was to JJ. The pair of you had claimed the porch as your go-to smoking spot. One Tuesday afternoon, you sit sprawled in the armchair: head on one armrest and legs swung over the other. Your now lilac highlighted hair dangles in two braids. JJ is keeping himself entertained by tracing his eyes up and down your legs, over your stomach and chest, up to your dozed out face, and back again. The two of you were smoking hash, passing it back and forth leisurely, sharing mindless musings about life and the world and what things might be like if you actually found the gold.Â
âIâd buy a house,â you say.Â
âLame.â
âA big house,â you continue, ignoring him and gesturing in front of you as if visualising it. âItâd be pastel blue with big white shutter-style windows and a wrap-around porch. Thereâd be one of those porch swings sat out front. Oh! And flowers. A shit ton of flowers.â
âYou canât even keep a cactus alive,â JJ snorts.Â
âIâd hire a gardener. Duh,â you say, rolling your eyes.Â
âAnything else?â JJ wonders. He keeps a mental checklist: blue house; white shuttersâŠ
âA dog,â you smile. âAnd a cat.â
âAlright then.â Maybe itâs the manner that he says it that has you looking at him, amused. âIâll do it.â
âYouâll âdo itâ?â you chuckle, raising your brows.Â
âYeah. When we find the goldââ
âIf we find the goldââ
âWhen,â JJ insists, making you laugh, âIâll get you your house and your dog.â
âDonât forget the cat,â you warn, pointing at him.Â
âChrist, lady! And your cat.â
âGood,â you smile.
You look back to the ceiling and slip your eyes shut, sighing contentedly. JJ chuckles, shaking his head, gazing at you as if you sculpted the planets and personally hung them in the solar system. Itâs short lived bliss, however, because your phone pings. Then again, and again, until itâs nothing but an ongoing buzz of noise. JJ frowns at it and you quickly reach over to the window ledge where itâs precariously sat. The moment your eyes scan the screen, you sit up. Everything about your demeanour shifts. JJ sees the second you switch to panic.Â
âI gotta go,â you mumble. You swing your legs off the sofa and stand. JJâs quick to follow.Â
âEverything okay?â
âI just gotta go home right now,â you reply, already making your way down the porch steps. JJ ditches the spoon pipe on the coffee table and catches up.Â
âIâll take you on my bike,â he says, grabbing your hand and guiding you to it. You donât argue and he doesnât ask for an explanation for the urgency. Wordlessly, the two of you climb on - your arms tethering around his middle - and JJ starts the engine. Speed limits become a pleasantry rather than a courtesy as JJ speeds to your house. Your phone doesnât let up the whole journey and with every ping, JJ bumps it up by another mile per hour. Itâs a skidding halt when he stops outside your house. Heâd only been there a handful of times before, usually to pick you up. Similarly to JJ, you didnât like going home all that much. Youâre climbing off the bike before JJ shuts the engine off. Seemingly at the sound of the engine, your dad emerges in the front door. You turn to JJ. He doesnât recognise the look on your face.Â
It terrifies him.Â
âJJ, you have to leave - now,â you tell him.Â
He frowns, brows tugging together. âWhatâre youââ
âJust leave. Go. Please, JJ,â you push, glancing between him and your approaching father. Something softens in your tone, akin to desperation. âPlease.â
JJ looks to your dad just as he passes the threshold of the porch, then looks to you once more as if needing approval. You nod as if understanding. The same thought, always shared. Then JJâs turning tightly in the makeshift drive of your house and starting off down the road before your dad reaches you. He acutely registers the funny feeling, tight in his chest as if something was squeezing his heart and lungs in a vice. It was the same feeling JJ got whenever he went home.Â
The same feeling JJ got whenever he saw his own father.Â
As the months went on, the relationship you and JJ shared was soaked in marjuana and sweat. Smoking in the morning and fucking through the night. Not only did you encourage JJâs idiocy, but you joined it. It was as if you were there to enable the other. Shoplifting beers, pier jumping in the thick of night, skinny dipping before dusk, pulling crazy stunts with the others that nearly wound up getting you killed more times to count. But just like JJ, you were loyal. It was as if the minute you became a Pogue, you wore it like a military title, nothing short of honoured. Youâd lay your life down for the group and for the hunt for gold.
JJ wasnât sure who said I love you first. Heâs not even sure if either of you ever said it. You donât have to say I love you to say I love you. Besides, two avoidant, daddy issue riddled teenagers didnât make for the most textbook healthy relationship. The two of you would fight and it was bad when you did. But it was a rarity. There was little time for blow-out arguments when you were running from one place to another, chasing lead after lead. Hell, even when you seemed to have time to breathe, something else always came up.Â
âI never make good grades in school. When I get out, I act like a fool. I come in the party and cause a commotion. Yeah, Iâm smooth they call me lotion.â
JJ cracks up with the others, breaking his beatboxing rhythm, as Pope loses his verse. He has a more than comfortable buzz going: energised by the beer and mellowed out by the weed. JJ thought he could handle his stuff well until he met you. This was the first time in a long time the two of you had properly partied together, outside of sharing a joint or doing edibles on an evening. You were about seven cans deep, one joint smoked and two lines of coke snorted. Your hair, now red, was damp from the hot tub; your nose ring sparkling in the disco ballâs reflecting light. JJ tried to keep his attention on the gang but no matter what, his eyes kept running back to you. The bikini top youâre wearing is truly a cruel design. Whoever invented it hated anybody who admired the female figure: they designed it to torture them. The liquor certainly didnât help the situation, nor did your knowing glances and sly smiles.Â
"Think Kanye might have some serious competition there," you sardonically quip.
âAlright, alright, letâs hear it then,â Pope challenges, turning the focus to you. Everyone oooâs dramatically as you laugh. You take a hit of your freshly rolled joint and shrug. As you rise out of the water, moving to sit on the outer edge of the hot tub, the gang erupts into cheers. JJ's mesmerised by the way the droplets of water race down over your tits, trickling down your chest.
âOkay, alright, well someone gimme a beat, at least,â you say.Â
JJâs happy to indulge. Laughing, you bop your head along and try to follow.Â
âI failed the first grade in school, but my teacher told me Iâm a cool dude. The kids in the playground scattered, cause my bars would leave them batteredââ
The gang whoops and you crack up, trying desperately to stay on track. JJâs trying desperately not to stare at your chest and lose track of his makeshift beat.Â
âWhen I fuck they call me lewd, cause I get freaky when Iâm in the wrong mood. My boy never seems to complain, but his dick might be in some pain.â
JJ practically chokes on his laughter. Thereâs a symphony of cheers and jests and (in Popeâs case) groans from the others, and you throw your hands up in surrender.Â
âYâall asked for it! Iâm jusâ saying!â you giggle, sinking back into the water. You take another hit of your joint and wink across to JJ. His dick twitches uselessly in his swim shorts as you do so. Such a fucking tease. Â Â
âYou two were made for each other, Goddamn,â Kiara chuckles.
The pair of you laugh it off but JJ feels his heart stir at the notion. Maybe itâs the weed talking or the alcohol intoxicating his thoughts, but the more time JJ spends with you, the more heâs certain that you two were meant to find each other. Thereâs no other explanation for it. You were an entire world in one small human being, filled with stories and secrets, some of which he might never know, but most heâd spend his life wanting to.Â
As the night stretches on and the drinks continue to flow, the mood simmers down from a bubbly celebration to an almost sentimental reunion. The hot tub has been abandoned as the mosquitos began to gather and the air began to cool, and JJ was sick of hearing you and Sarah drop hints about how you were âturning pruney.â So now you sit in the deck chairs with Kiara and Sarah and John B, watching JJ and Pope wrestle. Grappling on Popeâs upper arms, JJ tries to get the upper leg.Â
âYeah, yeah, yeah, go for the leg,â he lightly encourages his lesser violent friend. With that, Pope tackles JJ onto the floor. He hits the ground with a gentle smack. âYou got a new technique now, huh?â
Pope rises in victory, pretty drunk, arms in the air. JJ laughs, sitting up to notice a beer extended out to him in offer from you. He takes it with a grin, having two large swigs.Â
âIâm done. Iâm out of here,â Pope announces to nobody in particular, walking away from the campfire.Â
âYou want a round two?âÂ
âYeah, I think Iâll take my losses,â Pope replies. JJ begins wandering back over to you with a shrug just as Kiara suddenly gets up from her seat. She flashes Sarah some kind of look that girls must track better than boys, as Sarah and yourself gape at her.Â
âReally?â
âOh yeah. Way to be discreet!â JJ hollers after them. When he steals Kiaraâs chair, sitting beside you, youâre still giggling.Â
âOkay, am I just oblivious or did nobody else notice them vibing on each other?â you wonder, looking to the others.Â
âDude. Seriously?â JJ sniggers.Â
âI didnât notice!â
âHow could you notâ You know what? Itâs okay, baby. Itâs okay. Only one of us needs to be the love expert here,â JJ reassures, stretching his arm out over the back of your chair in what he thinks is a rather suave manner. You snort, gently brushing it off.Â
âLove expert? Uh-huh. Sure, kiddo.â
âKiddo,â John B mutters, amused.Â
JJ scoffs, grinning at you. âOh really?â
âYep,â you return, not quite sure what youâre arguing over now. JJ decides to put an end to it by squeezing the sides of your exposed stomach, tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. As he does so, John B mumbles something about being out of beer. Sarah follows him and leaves you and JJ in the company of the music, the cicadas and chickens.Â
âThought you danced,â JJ says, referring to the music, thinking back to the night at the kegger.Â
âI might do later.â
JJ just nods and the two of you smile at one another, the playfulness of the moment easing away the same way the arousal had earlier in the hottub.Â
âYouâre so handsome,â you quietly tell him. "My good looking boy, huh?"
JJ chuckles, looking down, bashful whenever you threw compliments like that at him. He could handle âsexyâ or âhotâ rather well, took them in stride, but words like handsome were like flakes of gold being sprinkled in his hair. They felt valuable, especially when they came from your mouth. Not always the best with words, JJ thanks the self-medication for what falls out of his mouth next.Â
âYouâre the prettiest Goddamn thing on this planet.â
Youâre visibly stunned and JJ wants to high-five himself. Giving him a coy smile, you lean your head back against your seat, staring into the star scattered sky.Â
âGod, I could just stay here forever,â you sigh.Â
JJ mimics your actions. He traces the stars and tries to see if he can make constellations of your face. He glances at you and notices how they reflect on your eyes, as if scattering diamonds into your irises to make them shimmer. Your skin is kissed amber by the fairy lights strung in the branches above. Everything just makes you glow: ethereal. A foot kicking his own snaps JJ out of his lovesick stupor. A rather amused John B smirks knowingly down at him.Â
âItâs creepy to stare, man,â John B joshingly berates.Â
âHe does it all the time,â you mumble. âThatâs why I asked him out.â
Sarah laughs at that and you crack up too, but before another conversation can begin, your laughter dies down and your brows furrow.Â
âWhat was that?â John B asks, as if reading your mind.Â
âYour chickens?â JJ wonders, having heard nothing but the incessant clucking of the birds.Â
âIt sounded like a car door,â you mumble. JJ, distracted, begins to cluck like a chicken, hoping to lighten the mood, more drunk than he thought he was, but your hand presses over his mouth to silence him. You rise to your feet slowly and JJ decides to follow. He squints into the distance.Â
âI think someoneâs here,â John B mutters.Â
âUp the trees. Quicklyâ you instruct, fast to take action.Â
You shut off the music as Sarah hurries to put out the fire. JJ decides to help her, tossing handfuls of sand atop of the flames. He looks to the tree to find you already a decent way up. He stands by the bottom of the other tree with John B to help give Sarah a boost, aware of the fragility of her stitches, and then lets John B go up before himself. He settles on the same branch as you, a hand protectively settling on your waist. Youâd already taken a rather reckless course of action in Charleston with Renfield, trying to tackle the taser from his hands to buy all of you more time to run. In case you felt the urge to drop from the trees in some surprise attack, JJ could now hold you back.Â
Sure enough, only a couple of minutes later, Rafe and Barry creep into the backyard. JJ feels you stiffen and he tightens his grip just slightly in reassurance. They didnât know you were in the trees. God bless your quick thinking. Barry makes his way into the house, gun raised and ready, whilst Rafe studies the spots youâd all been relaxing in only moments prior.Â
âWhere the hell are you?â he mumbles to himself.Â
None of you speak. None of you dare breathe let alone move. JJ looks to John B and Sarah, who look just as troubled as he feels. Rafe was unpredictable. Unstrung. And it was easy to assume that JJ was not on Barryâs nice list, that was for sure. As they sit and lie in wait, praying not to be spotted, Barry and Rafe seem to decide that nobodyâs home. As heâs about to take a sigh of relief, Rafe fires the gun up into the trees. His heart jumps and his chest heaves. The bullet ricochets off the trunk of the tree near his back. You flinch in JJâs hold at the gunshots and the shock nearly has you losing your balance. JJ quickly shifts his hand higher up your side, leaning as close to you as physically possible to whisper in your ear.Â
âI got you,â he reassures.Â
Barry thankfully ushers Rafe away at that point but none of you dare move until you the car is long out of sight. Sighing, you relax against JJ and him against you. It was ironic how the two of you were no strangers to violence and yet, the same spark of fear was alight anytime either of you were faced with it. Â
You see, the same way âI love youâ didnât need an explanation, neither did yours and JJâs homelives. JJ never intended to introduce you to his father and he never met yours. More times than not, youâd meet and hang and sleep at the Chateau. If you spent time at one of your two houseâs, it was when it was empty. The cuts and bruises that would appear on either of your bodies never came with questioning. Somehow, someway, the two of you knew how and where. Youâd soundlessly clean them and console the other and the whole thing would be as forgotten as a terrorist attack: over, in the back of the mind, but never fully erased. The anger JJ felt whenever he saw you after youâd had a run-in with your father was different to that which he felt when he had a run-in with his own. Deeper, darker, more vengeful. One night, it reached its crux.Â
JJ wakes up with a start. At first he isnât sure what snapped him out of sleep. Then, he hears it again. A faint creaking in the floorboards from the main body of his house. His house that he now lives in alone. What if his dad came back? JJ gets out of bed dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpant shorts. He slowly picks up a spanner thatâs laying on his bedroom floor, ditched after a day trying to switch out the deck of his skateboard, and pushes his door open carefully. He slowly inches down the almost pitch-black hallway. The only light is that from the window: moonbeams that shine through the glass.Â
At the sight of your silhouette, JJ lets out a heavy sigh. The spanner falls to the ground with an echoing thud.Â
âJesus Christ, you scared the crap outta me,â JJ says with a relieved laugh. He makes his way across the room to you but his smile fades when he notices how stiff you are. âYou aâright?â
This close, he can begin to make out your face through the dark. Itâs haunting.
âJesus fucking Christ,â JJ breathes, horrified.
Dark bags sit under your eyes which are hollowed out as if youâd been lost at sea, a vacant stare that almost looks past him. Your lip is quivering. Small, shaky, shallow breaths come in and out of your mouth. The worst part? The blood.Â
His hands fly up toward your face and your eyes clamp shut quickly as preparing for a hit. JJ freezes before he touches your skin, slowing his movements, trying to ease his own panic. His eyes scan your features, counting the injuries, trying to see the damage beneath the gore.
âWhat the fuck happened?â
You donât talk. Nothing but that same ominous silence. Youâre in shock. JJâs seen it before from when he pulled over at a motorcycle crash. Itâs as if the mind retreats in on itself and guards from the unpredictable. JJ swallows and clenches his jaw, trying to steal himself.Â
âAâright, we, uh, we gotta clean you up,â he manages. He carefully links his fingers through yours and feels your barely tangible grip. Then he guides you into the bathroom. Lowers you gently onto the toilet seat. In his peripheral vision, he sees no sign of movement or acknowledgement as he retrieves the beloved first aid kit from the bathroom cupboard. It balances precariously on the edge of the sink as he digs about for cleaning supplies.Â
JJ starts with your face. Your upper lip is busted at the edge, coated in dry blood but already beginning to scab. When you get in as many bruise ups as JJ, you learn to have a strange appreciation and fascination with the human body in how it heals. The antiseptic must sting but you donât even blink. You just stare past him. Even before, youâd never been this detached. You might be angry or frustrated or even upset, but never absent. Never this. The blood around your eye comes from a gash just across your right brow. Thereâs an impressive bruise on the apple of your left cheek and a telling pink handprint that refuses to fade on your right. The fury begins to chip at JJâs resolve.
Following your bizarre routine, JJ moves to unbutton your shirt, to check for any signs of internal bleeding, broken ribs, open cuts or ugly bruises across your upper body. The minute his fingers brush your sternum, your hands fly up. Heâs not even sure how he winds up on the floor and it takes a moment to piece together the seconds and register that it was you. Frowning, thoroughly alarmed, JJâs head shoots up to find your chest heaving. You make a noise as if youâre crying but no tears fall. His lips part in horror and his mind scrambles for any explanation other than the obvious.Â
âWoah, woah, woah, hey,â JJ hurries, rocking onto his knees and planting his hands reassuringly on yours. Your whole body is shaking. âItâs aâright, yeah? Jusâ me. I ainât gonna hurt ya.â
Your eyes clamp shut and the tears begin to fall.
"You're safe now."
After a trembling inhale, you begin to sob. Heartbroken, hideous, harrowing sobs. JJ feels tears swirl in his waterline at the sight and sound. He knew you better than anyone - better than the Lord himself - and to see you so far from who you are was like seeing someoneâs body turn inside out. Unsure of what to do, he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace and lets you fall into him.
You just cry.Â
Later, JJ sits outside the bathroom. His back is pressed against the door. Inside, he can hear the slosh of the bath water from time to time when you shift. He meddles with the rings on his fingers. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip. JJ assesses his options. He knows the ârightâ thing to do and he knows the âwrongâ thing to do, and he knows the one he prefers out of the two, even if he shouldn't. His eyes flit over to the pile of your clothes that heâd taken out the room with him, back turned to give you privacy when you changed (as if you hadnât given your body to him countless times before). The blood stained shirt. The shorts that had a telling rip at the crotch, the zip practically shattered. The missing panties. His throat turns thick and his eyes clench shut, forehead falling down against his clenched fists. He tries desperately to breathe through the anger. Before he can reach any sort of conclusion, he hears you get out of the bathtub. A few minutes later, the twisting doorknob prompts him to stand. You stand dressed in his clothes and offer him a small smile, and JJ feels his whole body sigh with relief.Â
âHow you feelinâ?â JJ asks.Â
You shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. âExhausted.â
âAnything hurting still?â
âNo,â you say. You walk past him and into his bedroom and he follows. Climbing onto his bed, you wrap yourself up on his side in the blankets. JJ heads to the kitchen to grab some water and pain meds before coming back and joining you, sitting against the headrest, unsure whether to touch you or not. You seem to answer the question for him. You cuddle into his side and nestle your head against his upper chest. His hands coil safely around your body, holding you close, and he plants a kiss on top of your head. Then he finally speaks.Â
âWe need to go to the cops.â
You sigh and close your eyes. âJJ, noââ
âYou donât even gotta press charges but they have to know.â
âI donât want to do that.â
âWhy the hell not?â
âBecause you know how it is, JJ,â you argue, sitting up to face him. âItâs my word against his and he never technically did anything. Theyâll take one look at him and listen to my story, and then probably get me to recount it a million times over to a million other strangers. To a million other men. Itâs humiliating and itâs pointless and I donât want to do it.â
âIt ainât pointless and thereâs nothing humiliating about it,â JJ insists. âYouâre the victim hereââ
âDonât call me that,â you snap, glaring at him.Â
Sighing, JJ closes his eyes and clenches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool. The last thing you need tonight is another fight. Besides, itâs not as if youâre wrong. JJ trusted the police as far as he could throw them; he didnât doubt that theyâd be useless. But the thought of you going back to your dad and for him to get away with what he didâŠJJ didnât know what other option you really had. Your fingers gently wrap around JJâs hand, easing it away from his face, coaxing his eyes to meet yours.Â
âTwo more months, JJ.â
He sighs again but youâre quick to continue.Â
âTwo more months and Iâm eighteen and he isnât my legal guardian anymore! I donât have to deal with the whole rigged court system or with a foster home - I can just be rid of him for good.â
âTwo more months? You think Iâm gonna let you go back there for two more months after this?â JJ scoffs, eyeing up your injuries. His stomach churns and jaw ticks at the thought of what couldâve happened if you hadnât managed to get the upper hand. You sigh and look away.Â
âI donât knowâŠMaybe he wonât do it again.â
âIf he does it once, heâll do it again,â JJ mutters. He remembers having the same thought the first time his dad hit him. It was an accident. He apologised. He didnât mean it. By the end, JJ was on cloud nine if he went a week without a smack. But your situation was somehow even heavier than that. His stomach churns again.Â
âI donât know,â you repeat, sounding nothing short of defeated.Â
JJ just tugs you back against his chest. You trace a finger over his chest in swirling patterns as if personifying the state of his mind. Maybe you could live with JJ. I mean, you practically already did. The two of you were rarely away from the Chateau these days, and once you were eighteen - just as you said - your dad had no hold on you. Maybe if the Pogues could get the cross then JJ could finally afford that big pastel blue house for you, with the wrap around porch, and guard dogs to sick âem anytime your dad came within a fifty mile radius of you. Maybeâ
JJâs eyes widen. It hits him. His best idea to date.Â
âMarry me.â
JJ isnât sure he actually said it for a while because you donât speak. You donât even move.Â
âWhat did you just say?âÂ
âMarry me.â
You immediately start to laugh. You shake your head against his chest. âJesus Christ. Did you slip and hit your bed whilst I was in the bathtub?â
âIâm serious. Marry me,â JJ says. Maybe itâs his tone that cuts off your hysterics. You quickly break out of his hold again and look at him, studying his expression. Your eyes widen.Â
âHoly shit, you really are serious,â you mumble.Â
âMarry me,â JJ repeats as if those are the only words he knows how to say.Â
You laugh, bewildered, âJJ, weâre seventeen.â
âSo.â
âSo? SoâŠWeâre seventeen!â you cackle. âWe canât get married JJ.â
âWho says?â JJ shrugs, beginning to smile. You havenât said no.Â
âUm letâs see,â you mumble, lifting your fingers to count. âThe courtâŠThe lawâŠOur parents.â
âWe donât have parents.â
âMaybe not good or present ones, but we still have legal guardians, JJ.â
âThose are all technicalsââ
â-Technicalities-â
â-Whatever. Point is, those are irrelevant,â JJ says, wafting it away. His hands grab yourself in a tight clutch. Your mouth remains perfectly parted, slightly upturned at the corners. It only pushes his smile. âI know youâre it for me. I ainât good at all the sappy-dappy-love-crap, but Iâve been in love with you since I was a kidââ
â--JJââ
â--And I donât want anybody else! Ever. Weâre a team, ainât we? Hunt for gold together, spend our life together.â When you study him in silence for a while, JJ tags on, âI mean, Iâm gonna do it eventually so I might as well do it now.â
âThat is insane reasoning to propose, JJ,â you laugh, shaking your head at him. Even if your face is half beaten beyond recognition, JJ knows youâre the most beautiful girl on the planet. The moment he knew he shared the same earth as you, JJ wanted you to be in his life. And you still havenât said no.Â
âI love you,â JJ says, plain and simple. Shaking his head slightly, he grins. âP4L, right? I mean, we really got nothing to lose here.â
You stare at him and scoff, quiet and underbreath, almost fascinated. Your eyes slip shut and JJ begins to grin because he knows. A deep, heavy sigh, and you laugh again.Â
âGod help me, I must have gone crazy,â you mutter. Your eyes open into his. Then you smile the prettiest smile the world has ever seen. âYes. Iâll marry you, JJ Maybank.â
JJ wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. You giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer and closer. When you break apart, barely a hairâs width between your damp lips, you smile as you speak.Â
âMy good looking boy.âÂ
Five Years Later
Whiskey isnât quite caramel. No, itâs more tawny. More gingerbread coloured, especially in this hue, illuminated by the crappy bar lighting hanging above JJâs head. His knuckles knock against the side of the cool glass, mesmerised by the sound of his metal rings clinking, distracted in his drunken haze by the bobbing of the three ice cubes in the liquor.Â
âJJ.â
His head sluggishly lifts at the sound of his name. He comes face to face with the long-time bartender, Corbin.Â
âItâs last orders, man. You wanting a refill?â Corbin asks.Â
JJ sighs and shakes his head. âNah, I better not. What time is it?â
âItâs nearly one,â Corbin replies.Â
JJ nods then repeats, ânah, I better not.â
âYou wanting to settle up for that now?â he wonders, glancing down at JJâs half full drink.Â
JJ swallows and rubs tiredly at his eyes. âI, uhâŠJust put it on my tab for now, aâright?â
Corbin sighs. âLook, JJ. Iâve known you a long time so Iâve been letting it slide but this tabâs starting to stack up. You gotta pay it sometime.â
JJ shoots him a glare; his emotions twisted by the alcohol. âAnd Iâm gonna. I justâŠThings are a lilâ tight right now so I canât settle it just yet.â
Corbin decides not to push the topic. He does as heâs asked and adds JJâs three whiskey on ice beverages to his resume-like tab. When he leaves to square things away at some other end of the bar, JJ glances around the room.Â
Corbinâs bar, Grub Bucket, hadnât changed in anybodyâs lifetime. JJ could recall coming out here as a kid on the hunt for his dad and sneaking past the intimidating bikers out front, weaving through the drunken fools of Kildare to find his dad almost paralytic near the pool tables. The smell was the same too: musty and beer drenched and tired. JJ wonders if he finds the smell comforting - nostalgic maybe. At the sight of several patrons leaving through the door into the pitch-black night, JJ remembers himself and the time, and he downs the last of his drink. The bitter sting is soothing on his tongue and eases the ache, and it goes down easy like a crisp, cool apple juice back in grade school.Â
He staggers out the bar and stumbles the familiar route home. Itâs as engraved in his mind as the journey to the shops or the docks. Home appears through thick overgrowth. Itâs a piece of shit trailer, obvious even in this lighting, thatâs discoloured and dirty on the exterior. There are weeds that protrude from below the body of the home and gas canisters lined beside overflowing trash cans and countless fishing, surf and mechanic crap. The recycling bin is always full of empty wine bottles and cans of beer.Â
The stairs creak in concern as he makes his way up them. The third is broken in the middle and even intoxicated, he has the sense to avoid it. A squeaky door that needs the entirety of his body weight to open, his shoulder slamming into the upper left, and the instant smell of damp desperately trying to be combated with some cheap candle from Goodwill.Â
Thereâs few rooms in the trailer. A kitchen with about one empty counter to cook, that shares the same area as a living space. A couch that JJ found abandoned on a roadside sits before a crackly television, divided by a thrifted coffee table. The World Atlas was proving useful keeping the latter piece of furniture upheld on the far right leg. The area is littered with belongings, tight on space and storage. Trash takes up a lot of space too, as much as he hates to admit it. A strategically placed poster-print conceals a concerning dent in the wall that may signify rats at one time had made this trailer their home. That could explain the steal that JJ got it for.Â
The bathroom is where JJâs legs take him next. Here, with the door closed, he can turn on the light. It takes three flicks of the switch and the buzz that it generates might remind a war veteran of a looming grenade. The shower is permanently discoloured and runs warm perhaps once a year, so JJ skips that stage. Instead he looks into the dirty mirror. His exhausted face greets him through blurry vision and speckles of toothpaste. A well-used toothbrush is rushed around his mouth and he spits into a dusty sink that drains frustratingly slowly. A quick piss and JJ is all washed up.Â
Heâs careful not to turn on the light when he makes his way into the bedroom. By now, it must nearly be two in the morning. The boots come off first, followed by his shorts, socks and shirt. Clad in only boxers, JJ can make out the bed through the dark and slides under the covers. His eyes slip shut and his body tries to relax.
âItâs late.â
His eyes clench shut. Shit.
âI, uh, didnât know youâd still be awake.â
âI was waiting up for you to come home,â comes your mumbled response. JJ looks over to you: your back facing him as he lies on his.Â
âYou didnât have to do that.â
âHard not to when your husbandâs out until two in the morning without texting or calling.â
 JJâs brows knit together. âMy phone died,â he mutters.Â
âConvenient.â
Sighing, JJ runs a hand along his forehead and rubs tiredly at his eyes. âLook, Iâm really fuckinâ tired, aâright? Itâs been a long day and I just wannaââ
âYouâre tired?â you hiss, turning over and sitting up. Fuck. âYouâre fucking tired, JJ? Where the hell where you!?â
âOut!â
"Oh! Out! God, I don't know why I didn't think to check there!" you tunefully say.
JJ grits his teeth. The exhaustion and booze make a sticky concoction, flammable to the smallest fuse. âI donât have to fucking give you a play by play of what Iâm doing. Iâm my own fucking person.â
âOkay, sure, JJ. You can finish work at five in the Goddamn afternoon and not reappear until two in the Goddamn morning without a text or call. I mean, what a fucking evil wife I am for worrying about you being - oh, I donât know - dead in a ditch somewhere or sat in a fucking cell. I mean, Iâm just bitter to the bone.â
At your spiel, JJ sits up in bed, propping himself up with his elbows. âYeah, itâs such a fucking Goddamn surprise that Iâm in no rush to come home when this is the fucking greeting I get!â
âDonât come home at two in the morning and you wonât get this type of greeting!â you screech back.Â
The two of you meet eyes through the dark. Your faces are contorted in anger: brows tugged close together, lips downturned in ugly frowns, tired eyes narrowed at one another.Â
âJesus Christ - what? You need me to give you a text every two minutes or some shit? Tell you where I am every two seconds?âÂ
âRight, yeah, thatâs what I said, JJ,â you argue, gesturing violently with your words. âI said, âsend me a text every time you take a breath of airâ. No, no, youâre right: I said, âput a tracker in your fucking penis and then maybe I know where itâs goingâ.â
He studies your face a moment and scoffs, shaking his head. âI donât know what youâre tryâna incinerate there butââ
âItâs insinuate - you fucking idiot - and I think you know damn well what Iâm referring to,â you spit. Your voice sounds almost as bitter as the liquor JJ was drinking peacefully only an hour ago. Maybe he should have just stayed at the bar.Â
âGo on, then. Say it with your fucking chest, then,â JJ urges, sitting up in bed too.Â
You glower at him. âPearl.â
âOh my fuckinâ...â JJ canât help but laugh right in your face. Itâs ludicrous! It only seems to worsen your rage, not that JJ could care at this moment. âYou really think Iâm out hooking up with someone? Is that seriously what youâre accusing me of?â
âWouldnât be surprised,â is your all-to-quick reply. âYou spend all night in a bar and come home smelling like booze. Wouldnât be surprised if you were hooking up with her, or some other whore. I mean, who else would want you?âÂ
JJ canât think clearly through the blinding rage. His vision goes blurry and this time, it isnât from the alcohol. Thereâs the distant fear that he might crack a tooth from how tightly heâs clenching his jaw. He feels his fist close up around the sheets.Â
âYou better think really fucking hard about what you just said to me,â he lowly says.Â
Your brows raise. âIs that a threat?â
JJ doesnât reply. Decides it might be best not to. Itâs hard to side with that thought process though because a smirk slowly but surely begins to sneak onto your face. Thereâs this viciousness in your eyes that JJ used to be unable to recognise, before El Dorado. Before life got somehow all the more real.Â
âStarting to sound like your dad now, huh, Maybank?â
Donât say anything. Donât say anything. Donât sayâ
JJ leans in close to your face. Can feel your heavy breath on his cheeks. See the emotions swirling like a thunderstorm in your eyes. The thin veil of tears in your waterline. He hardly recognises his own voice.Â
âI wish I was fucking some whore. Anythingâs better than being in this bed with you.â
Your whole demeanour shifts. Itâs palpable. The room is hot and suffocating. The words hang in the air and JJ hates himself for not being sure if he even wants to take them back, even if he doesnât mean it. He just wanted you to hurt. And what an awful thing to want.Â
JJ hates this. He hates how the two of you know just the right buttons to press and just the right things to say to make the other furious. To break one another down. When two people fall in love, you learn everything about the other. Itâs not just the intimate details - how somebody looks naked, the way they react to every touch, every kiss, their favourite song, the way they talk when theyâre drunk - but also the sensitive stuff. The traumas and the skeletons and the insecurities.Â
âGet out,â you spit.Â
âGet out?â JJ laughs incredulously.Â
âGet out! Get the fuck out of this bed now,â you seeth. JJ doesnât move. As if possessed, you grab at your pillow and toss it at him. âGet out!â Toss your book too.Â
JJ dodges them, bats them away. âYouâre fucking psycho! Do you fucking see yourself!â he shouts.Â
âGet out! Get out, get out, get out!â you scream.Â
But JJ doesnât. He should. In fact, he should go for a walk and let the two of you calm down, and then discuss it in the morning with a civilised conversation, just as you would do when you were both younger. But JJ was never the one to make the right decision. Instead, he feels himself smile. Then, he settles leisurely on his back, snuggling into the sheets like a child returning home after a long day out. His body aches from a hard dayâs labour at the docks, stomach empty save for the booze. Even with his eyes closed, JJ can see your glare. Itâs ice cold and sends shivers along his spine.Â
âFuck you, JJ,â you mutter.Â
Another rustle of the sheets, the mattress dips, heavy footsteps, a slamming door, and youâre out of the room. The door shivers in the rickety frame and the noise seems to echo around the room. JJ slowly opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. He runs a hand along his jawline as he sighs, feeling the ever growing stubble that he canât find the motivation to shave. He used to, wanting to keep up appearances for the job market, but it seemed futile now. Pointless. The feeling of satisfaction that came from winning the fight was fleeting, passing as quick as a poppers-buzz. Now, the ugly emotions seep in as JJ wallows in the lonely silence. The emotions JJ usually wards off with whiskey and beer and weed and cocaine. The guilt and the shame and the self-loathing. The sympathy and the heartache. The awful things he said to you bounce around in his head like a ping pong ball. The awful things you said to him bury deep in his heart. When he closes his eyes again, trying to mellow out his breathing and drift off, he can hear your sniffles through the door.
You never used to hide your tears from him.Â
Sighing, JJ clamps his hands over his face and fights the urge to scream. Why does he do this? Why does it keep happening? Why canât you both just stop?Â
After thirty minutes, sleep is nowhere to be seen. The sniffling has stopped in the other room but JJ doubts youâre asleep either. Soon enough, he canât stand the internal struggle anymore. He gets to his feet and makes his way into the living room before he can lose his nerve.Â
Youâre lying on your side on the sofa, bundled up with a moth-nibbled blanket. JJ canât see your face from here but he knows youâre awake. Dating you for five years meant he learnt to pick up on things like that. Walking over, he comes to the back of the sofa and reaches over to gently place his hand on your shoulder.Â
âYou awake?â he rasps.Â
A pause, and then, âyes.â
âCome to bed.â
âWhy?â
âBecause youâve got that stupid interview tomorrow and youâre going to hate yourself for sleeping on this fucking thing in the morning.â
And I canât fall asleep unless youâre next to me.Â
âYou remembered I have an interview?â you mumble.Â
âCourse,â JJ mumbles back, as if embarrassed that he remembers something his wife told him. âSo come to bed.â
You donât say anything else. JJ has a million things he could say. Theyâre things that he should say and that he wants to but itâs like his mouth is soldered shut. He canât let them pass as if they might incriminate him. Oh no! Sheâll know I care about her! Instead, he swallows and removes his hand, sighing as he turns to return to the bedroom.Â
âWell, Iâm going to bed,â he says. Again, thereâs no response.Â
Only after JJ has closed the bedroom door does he hear movement from the sofa. By the time you reappear, heâs already in bed, curled up on his side, facing the wall. You make your way to the right of the bed. Thereâs the thud of the blanket joining the floor before you sneak under the sheets and shuffle about until youâre settled.Â
The two of you donât cuddle that night just like you donât most nights. Neither of you apologise. Neither of you say a word. But just as JJâs about to drift off, he feels the faintest press of your lips to the back of his bare shoulder.Â
When JJ wakes up in the morning, youâve already left. His head hurts the moment he opens his eyes. Groaning, he tosses the sheets off and sits up on the edge of his bed. JJâs aching back was a common companion to his life since El Dorado. Heâd fallen funny on the adventure and seemingly fucked it up for life. Lifting heavy cargo at the docks probably didnât help much but what choice did he have? You both needed the money desperately.Â
The hunt for the gold went sour. Not only did Ward Cameron steal it and use it, but Rafe stole the cross and melted the timeless relic down into chunks. At first they thought El Dorado - the timeless mystery - was a possibility. JJ believed it too. In trying to get himself and John B there, heâd got himself in pretty hot water back in Kildare. That and the eviction notice plastered to his dadâs house meant that coming back home, empty handed, meant tough living. At first, the two of you persevered. You took the loss as best you could and started out on your life together. A courthouse wedding marked the beginning of your new life, gold-less but not loveless. The Pogues threw a party at the Chateau afterwards. JJ sent out an invitation to his dad at his last known address but he never showed. You never invited yours and thankfully he stayed away. Not long after was he arrested. That was a good day. Youâd sold your fatherâs house and used that money to buy the trailer you and JJ now resided in. It was supposed to be a temporary spot but you fell on rough times. That was almost four years ago.Â
The day at work dragged on like any other. After missing one shift at the local grocers, JJ was fired and had to take the next available job to let the two of you meet rent. Now he spends his hours (nearly seven days a week) fixing up old fishing rigs. It was gruelling work: lifting and slamming and hammering and loading. Even in the September air, the summer less stifling than before, JJ works up a sweat. He doesnât have enough food to spare for things like pack dinners so he goes off an apple during his breaks. Sometimes Pope would offer JJ some food if they crossed paths but JJ didnât want to be a charity case. He was aware how frail the two of you looked though: having about one semi-decent meal a day. Just as the day begins to wrap to a close - the amber sun low in the sky - does Billy, his employer, come over to JJ as heâs scrubbing his hands.Â
âGoddamn oil, swear to God,â he mutters under breath, scratching tirelessly at the skin.Â
âHey, JJ, we gotta talk,â Billy sighs.Â
JJ looks up and wipes his hands dry on his shirt. âWhatâs up?â
âLook, uhâŠâ The moment Billy clears his throat, JJ knows whatâs coming. âI hate to do this, man, but I gotta let you go.â
âDude, seriously?â JJ sighs.Â
âLook, it ainât your fault, Jay. I justâŠThe business is going under and I canât keep all you guys on anymore. I hate to do this to you, I really do, man. I've got your last paycheck here but you, uh, donât gotta come in on Monday,â Billy not-so-delicately tells him, digging in his pocket and retrieving a white envelope. As he hands it over, he adds, âsorry.â
âYeah, well,â JJ sighs, taking the money, âsorry donât pay the bills, does it?â
Before Billy can reply, JJ pockets the paycheck and sets off from the docks towards his truck. He had to trade in his bike a few years back when the two of you married: a truck seemed more practical, especially for the plans you had. The anxiety seeps in as he starts his engine and only rises the closer he gets to home like a flood caused by a running tap in a home. Rubbing at his heart, trying to alleviate the nerves, JJ takes a breath and turns up the drive. He never used to feel this way when coming home to you. In fact, it used to be the highlight of his day. Now he just prays that he can get through the door without the two of you falling into an argument.Â
Youâre standing at the stove, steam billowing up from the pan that youâre stirring, and at the sound of JJ shoving his way through the entrance, you turn and offer a small smile. It seems like an olive branch for last night.Â
âHey,â you say.Â
âYo,â JJ hums, closing the door. He heads for the pile of envelopes on the cluttered breakfast bar and flicks through them. Every FINAL NOTICE makes him cringe. One is already open and he slips the letter out, but you speak before he has a chance to read a word.Â
âWe got a week until they shut the gas off,â you tell him.Â
âWell, I got the solution to that.â
JJ tries his best to smile as he holds the envelope up. Gasping, you abandon the stove and grin, taking it from him and scanning over the amount. Heâs ashamed by his surprise when you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. He doesnât have a chance to respond; youâre back at the stove, stirring dinner, within seconds.Â
âYeah, well, thatâs the good news,â JJ says.Â
Frowning, concerned, you look over your shoulder to him. âThereâs bad news?â
JJ canât meet your gaze as he tells you, âI got let go.â
âWhat? But I thoughtââ
âYeah, me too,â JJ sighs, shaking his head. He leans against the fridge and feels it shudder at his weight. The bottles of cheap wine clink together tellingly and JJ tries not to cringe. âAnyway, howâd your interview go?â
You shake your head, looking back to the pan. âThey said theyâd let me know in three or so days but I donât knowâŠThey were hard to read.â
He watches you in the artificial light, your now naturally coloured hair looking almost unrecognisable in the glow. Youâd stopped dying it a couple years ago because you thought it might make finding work easier. It didnât. Two ex-convicts, one of which had arguably the worst reputation in Kildare, who disappeared for several months at a time as teenagers. No high school degree, no college degree, no qualifications or former training, and no reputable name to fall back on. JJ contemplates coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you against him. He wants to dance with you in the kitchen to non-existent music and then cuddle up on the couch, sharing a joint and putting the world to right. But he doesnât. Instead, JJ stays by the fridge.Â
âIâm sure youâll get it.â
âMaybe. You going back to the job centre tomorrow?âÂ
âMaybe,â JJ echos. He should. Itâs hard though. It feels as though every time one of you picks yourself up and dusts yourself off, you get kicked to the dirt again. Jobs felt as unstable and unpromising as a rebound relationship. If either of you can hold down a job in the shaky economy that was the Cut on Kildare, then something in the house needs replacing, and youâre somehow still as broke as you were to start.
Neither of you bring up the argument from last night even though you should. Instead, you eat your dinner in mostly silence as the radio drones on in the background about the weather and the news. JJâs apology lingers on his tongue but with every mouthful of his grits, it gets brushed away. It stays that way as the evening drags on. One glass of cheap red wine turns into two and three. Somewhere in the tipsy haze, the two of you find one another, naked under the sheets. His bare chest brushes against yours as he kisses desperately at your neck, thrusting into you. As his hands caress along your familiar figure, it feels as though youâre miles away. Or maybe itâs him. Maybe he isnât the one thatâs present, as if standing across the room, watching it all unfold. Your heavy breaths in his ear donât excite him as they did before. The feeling of your walls squeezing around him doesnât send him spiralling the same way it used to. It feels as if heâs just going through the motions. Chasing the brief wave of euphoria and distracting himself from the maelstrom of anxiety that is his mind lately. No job, no family, no future. Â
âHarder, JJ,â you sigh against his shoulder, your breath warm on his damp skin.
He hardly registers your words and only responds when one of your hands coaxes his hips deeper. Something about the new angle hits JJ just right. His eyes slip shut, a groan falling past his lips as he shudders against your body. He comes rather quickly: the white hot pleasure fast as it passes through him. He lingers inside of you a moment. You lay stone still underneath him. Â
âDid you just come?â you ask.Â
âYeah, I just came,â JJ sighs, pulling out of you. Sighing, chest heaving, he flops onto his back beside you. He can feel your stare the same way he did last night. As if trying to escape it, his eyes slip shut.Â
âAre you fucking serious, JJ?â
âYou know your body better anyway. Go to town,â JJ mumbles. Heâs aware of how douchey he sounds but he feels a thousand miles away. Heâd only disappoint you anyway. It feels like all he does is disappoint you.Â
âFuck you,â you mutter, climbing out of bed and heading presumably to the bathroom to piss. The door slams the same as it did last night. More arguments and JJ will have to replace the hinges. Just another thing in the house thatâll be added to the list of repairs, with the thing at the top being your relationship. As JJ works through the list in his mind, he drifts off to sleep. He isnât sure if you ever came back to bed. Youâre gone when he wakes up in the morning. Â
âI donât understand man,â John B says. âWhy donât you two just get a divorce?â
JJâs head snaps to face his best friend. âWhat the hell are you talking about?â
âIâm just sayingââ
â--John Bââ
â--You guys are miserable,â he finishes, not letting JJ cut him off. Groaning, JJ shakes his head and paces away. âItâs not like divorce is frowned upon in your family! Your parents did it, hers did it - hell, mine did it too!â
âI donât wanna divorce her,â JJ says, turning around. He takes his cap from his head and runs his fingers through his hair. Itâs damp with sweat from the humid heat of the day. Heâd been at his lifelong best friendâs house since eight in the morning, helping to clear up the yard and fix the jetty. Whilst unemployed, JJ may as well keep himself busy. As always, the conversation had veered into relationship territory: John B and Sarah, and JJ and you. The fight was two weeks in the past. You hadnât let JJ have sex with you since. JJ wasnât sure if he even wanted to. It just made him feel more confused and disconnected. He didnât like being the reason you were upset. Â
âThereâs no shame in it,â John B assures. âYou guys were a good fit when we were teenagers but now youâve grown up and lifeâs gotten hard. Thatâs okay.â
âSheâs it for me, JB,â JJ states. He wanders over and lovingly pats him on the back, making his way to the cooler for another beer. âI ainât giving up on us.â
âCool. So, youâll just stay stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life then. Awesome,â comes John Bâs sardonic response.Â
âItâs not loveless. Itâs justâŠgoing through a rough patch.â
âA two year long rough patch?â
âItâs not as simple as âdivorce herâ,â JJ sighs. The crisp crack of the beer sounds like heavenâs gates opening. âSheâs the girl of my literal childhood dreams. And things have been hard for her too. We donât mean to fight, we justâŠdo.â
âDenial is a six-letter word my friend. You know what else is?â
âDonât say itââ
âTrauma.â
âJBââ
âI get it! Your dad was shitty and youâre trying to break the cycle! But maybe you canât! Maybe there isnât a cycle! Maybe thatâs just life!â
âLook, I donât therapise you so how about you donât therapise me,â JJ suggests. He tosses a beer to the brown haired man. His face isnât all that different from when they were young. The crows feet around his eyes are deeper set, as are the laughter and frown lines along his forehead. The stubble on his beard challenges JJâs. âIâm not gonna give up on us. We just need to reconnect. I feel like weâre always at odds.â
Sighing, John B relents. He clinks his can against JJâs in an informal cheers. âWell, I hope youâre right and you guys can figure it out. I just want you happy, man.â
Happy. JJ hardly knew the meaning of the word these days.Â
He lingers at John Bâs house until sunset, when Sarah returns from the hospital. Sheâd managed to get a spot on a nursing course and was blazing through it. Sheâd tried to get both you and JJ employed there too but the criminal check killed any chance. She offers for JJ to stay for dinner but he declines, saying that he should head home. The walk back is filled with unnecessary diversions. He goes to the pier where he saw you jump as a kid. He goes by the grocery store that the two of you used to shoplift beers from. He wanders along the coastline where you used to skinny dip in the dead of night. Somehow, JJ ends up outside what used to be his home. Nobody had bought it after the bank repossessed it. Sitting in dilapidation, nature reclaims the isolated structure. Itâs barely recognisable to JJ. Seeing it in such a way makes JJ question if his childhood was even real. The traumatic memories feel as though they donât fit well on this canvas: itâs too peaceful and serene. He leans down and grabs a large rock from the floor and hurls it towards one of the windows. It shatters through the glass and thuds as it lands on the floorboards inside. A small smile pushes onto JJâs ageing face. Thatâs better. He continues to walk home.Â
Itâs pitch black outside by the time JJ makes it back. He wonders if you might have gone to bed as he walks up the porch steps, dodging the broken one, reminding himself to fix it. The house is cast in a warm glow from the living room floor lamp when JJ walks in. The kitchen has been cleaned up and for once seems almost homely. His eyes are immediately drawn to your frame, sat crossed legged on the sofa. A large shoebox sits on the coffee table, the lid off, and a stack of old VHS tapes sit in a pile to its right. Thereâs a bottle of open red wine and a half filled glass too. Youâre looking down at something.Â
âHey,â he says, closing the door behind him.Â
âHey.â
âWhatâre you doing?â
You finally look up. Youâd put your nose ring back in and it shines under the gentle glare of the lamp. A smile blesses your features. âI was going through the closet to see if I could sell some old clothes and found the picture box. Remember how we were gonna hang some up when we first moved here? I think we still should.â
JJ grabs a glass for himself and joins you on the sofa. You smell like soap and shea butter. He pours himself a glass of wine.
âLook,â you say, holding the picture out for him to see. He places down in his glass on the table and takes the photo from you. JJ chuckles quietly under breath. Itâs of John B and JJ when they were younger; they sit on their surfboards, legs submerged in the water, hair damp, smiles brimming and big. âCute, huh?â
âVery cute,â JJ agrees. He places it amongst the pile of scattered pictures strewn across the table and picks another out. Itâs of Kiara, pulling a stupid face as she lounges outside the Chateau. Sarah throwing up peace signs. A candid of Pope and John B playing cards one afternoon. You, dangling upside down from the slats of the jetty, lilac hair barely scraping the surface of the water.Â
âI like this one.â
JJ leans into you to see the picture in your hands. He smiles at the sight. One of the Pogues must have taken it. You both look about eighteen. Youâre sat on one of the deckchairs that resided outside of the Chateau, talking vivaciously, hands gesturing wildly and smiling wide. JJâs just staring at you, a lovesick smile on his young face, chin resting on his fist. For a while, the two of you sit in the drip-drip-drip of the kitchen sink, staring at the picture as if in a trance.Â
âYou used to adore me,â you whisper.Â
JJâs brows knit together. He looks down at you. âI still do.â
Your laugh is sad. Your eyes remained trained on the moment frozen in time. âNot like you used to. Not like before.â
âBefore what?â JJ mumbles, heart suddenly heavy.Â
You look up and meet his gaze. Whatever emotion is on your face makes JJ want to cry. âYou know what.â
He shakes his head, his lips quivering. âThatâs not true.â
âEverything changed after that.â
âItâs not true,â he says again. His hand slips up, cupping your cheek, and his body sings when you lean into his hold. âThat werenât your fault. It never was and never will be.â
âBut would you still have married me,â you begin to ask, voice turning thick as the tears start to build, âif you knew? If I knew before.â
âYes,â JJ swiftly answers.Â
âJJââ
â--Youâre it for me,â he says. His forehead gently falls forward, resting against yours, needing to be closer. âGirl of my dreams.â
âEven ifâŠâ You take in a shaky breath, trying desperately not to cry. âEven if I canât give you a family.â
âYou are my family. I got everything I need right here.âÂ
Something between a sob and laugh shakes your body. You sniff and nod fervently against him. JJ sweeps his calloused finger across your cheek. He feels the warmth that radiates from your skin. Inhales the soothing smell that is you. Counts the smattering of blemishes and freckles and scars that decorate your skin like cracks in an antique painting. They donât take from your beauty - they just speak to the value.Â
âIâm sorry,â he hears himself say.Â
Itâs your turn to frown now. Opening your eyes, they shimmer with unshed tears. âWhatâd you mean?â
âIâm so sorry I let you marry me,â he says in brutal honesty. âThis ainât the life you deserve.â
âJJââ
âYou deserve so much more than this. More than all this scrimping and saving. You deserve your house. Your pastel blue house, with those white shutters and the porch - that damn wrap around porch - and your cats and dogs.â
You chuckle, shaking your head. Your own hands come up, cradling his face just as he has your own, and you smile dotingly up at him. For the first time in months, JJ feels as though he recognises you. JJ feels as though he recognises himself.Â
âI donât need all that, JJ,â you tell him. âThatâs just stuff. Things. You said it best: I have everything Iâve ever needed right here.â
âYou donât gotta say that,â JJ gently argues. âThis trailer isnât a house, baby.â
âNo, it ainât,â you agree. âItâs a home. Itâs our home.â
âBaby,â JJ sighs. His eyes slip shut, unable to look at you, feeling nothing less than a failure.Â
âYou remember our wedding day?â you ask him. JJ canât help but snort.Â
âCourse I do.â
âRemember our vows?â
His lips canât help but upturn as he follows your train of thought. He was always good at following your mind.Â
âFor richerââ
â--for poor,â JJ finishes.Â
The caress of your finger along his jawline has JJ close to tears.Â
âWeâre gonna be okay,â you tell him softly. âWe're gonna get through all this. Itâs just Godâs test, that's all, and weâre gonna pass it, and itâll be okay again. I promise.â
JJ manages to open his eyes and face you. Youâre smiling up at him, gazing as if he was the entire solar system laid before you, and the anxiety slips away as suddenly as winter changes to spring.Â
âMy good looking boy,â you whisper.Â
JJâs never been good with his words. But sometimes words arenât needed.Â
His lips find yours like a bird migrating home. You immediately hold him close to you, tilting his face with yours to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours. The taste of red wine is strangely erotic and it spurs JJ on. He sighs against you, pushing deeper as if to consume you. Your fingers slip into his hair; nails teasing at his scalp, combing through the sea salt treated strands. JJâs hands sink away from your face, tracing along your arms, down to your waist. You sink into the cushions of the sofa on your back as JJ climbs atop. His lips map across your cheeks, along your jaw, find home on your neck and collarbones.Â
âI missed you so much,â he confesses in a breath against your sensitive skin.Â
The removal of clothes is like a ritual: each piece commemorated with kisses and love bites and praises. Your hands explore one anotherâs naked bodies as if it were your first time. Like a blind man regaining sight, JJ is in awe of your effortless beauty. The way your back arches at the trace of his finger along your sternum, down to your weeping cunt. You clench helplessly around his digits as he fingers you, slow and sensual, savouring every moan and whine.Â
âMissed you so fucking much, baby,â JJ sighs against your thigh. Presses kisses against the stretch mark decorated skin, like watering tree roots. âSo fucking pretty.â
âJayJ,â you croon, eyes clenched shut, a balled up fist rubbing helplessly at your forehead.Â
His tongue laps at your clit, suckles at the wet, driven by the feel of your fingers knotting in his hair. You climax with a gasp, soaking his fingers and lips, overstimulated until youâre gently pushing him away and pulling him up to you. Heâs painfully hard as he kisses you. When your hand softly takes hold of him, he sighs against your mouth.Â
âI missed you,â you tell him between kisses. Your hand rubs at him in long, meaningful strokes, thumb occasionally teasing over the tip. JJ groans against your chest, eyes pressed shut, trying to revel in the feeling of having you so close, having you jacking him off, whilst trying desperately not to come. But you know him better than anybody else. You know when to guide him to your entrance, coating him in your slick. JJ kisses at your nipple as he sinks into you. He doesnât feel miles away this time as he fucks you into the sofa. Doesnât feel like heâs stranded across the room as he makes love to you for the first time in months, maybe even years.Â
Your begs and pleas and praises are like words from the lord being spoken into JJâs ears in your breathy whimpers. Harder, deeper, feels so fuckinâ good, faster. JJâs no better, slurring anything that slips into his mind as he sinks in and out of you. So fuckinâ wet, prettiest fuckinâ pussy in the world, tell me how bad you need it. His hand holds an almost mean grip on your hip whilst his other finds your left. JJ intertwines your fingers as the two of you chase your highs, the digits slick with sweat, slipping in the hold but never letting go.
"I'm s'close," you whine, hooking your legs over his hips, driving him deeper.
"Fuck, feels so fuckin' good," JJ grunts, ploughing into you. "So fuckin' good for me."
"Please, JJ," you gasp. You're so close. JJ fucks you hard and fast. "Please, please, please..."
You come first, gasping and panting against JJâs ear, and he follows, moaning desperately against your clammy skin. His eyes slip shut as he rests atop of you.Â
JJ blinks awake, somewhat disorientated. For the first time in forever, his aching back isnât the first thing he registers. Instead, itâs the steady rise and fall of the warm body underneath him. He slowly lifts his head to find you, sleeping soundly, still naked. Heâs soft inside of you and gently slips out with a small shudder. You stir only slightly but soon drift back off to sleep. JJ gets up carefully so as to not disturb your slumber. The bathroom doesnât feel as grimy when he goes inside to pee, and his face looks younger, lighter, refreshed, when he checks the mirror as he washes his hands. After tugging on a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt, he returns to the living room. Youâve curled up on your side, snoring quietly, and JJ smiles. How could he forget how beautiful you are? He lays a blanket over your body and plants a kiss to your hair. Then, he begins to tidy away some of the pictures. As you requested, he leaves out some that he thinks you might like to be framed, one of which is from your wedding day: the two of you laughing as you smush cake against one anotherâs mouths. His eyes fall on the tapes and he picks them up, flicking through them. He takes pause at one. Luke and Marieâs Wedding Tape. He stares at it like the box of Jumangi, both terrified and enticed.
JJ powers up the TV, ensuring itâs on silent, and turns on the old tape player. By some miracle, it still works. He slips the tape in and swallows the lump in his throat, and sits on the sofa beside where your head rests. Youâre still dead to the world, snuggled up cosy in your blanket cocoon, and JJâs weirdly grateful for your company as the tape kicks to life. Itâs grainy at first, the picture wobbly, but soon enough the image comes to life. His dad who JJ hasnât seen in years stands young and stupid at the altar. His mother who JJ wouldnât know if she passed him in the street stands young and forgiving opposite. Theyâre speaking soundless words, smiling. JJ isnât aware that heâs started crying until a teardrop lands on his hand. He wipes his cheek absently, eyes fixated on the screen. He watches as they dance: giggling, graceful, giddy. Just as you were the day JJ laid his eyes on you.Â
Maybe John B was right. Maybe JJ did want to break the pattern. It wasn't either of your faults that you both reacted to adversity the way you did. Years of built-up anger and rage and pain with nowhere to go but within was like a boiling over crockpot of disaster. Two borderline-abandoned, abused teenagers married at eighteen? Of course you didn't have the blueprint for how to be a functional couple. Neither of you knew the definition of compromise, or backing down, or making peace. All you knew was pain and betrayal and self-defence. But that could change. It would take time and patience, but it could. JJ wanted it to. He was sick of working against you. You were a team before and you would be a team again. JJ never wanted to go to war against you, not when you were the best soldier on his team. JJ had always feared love because he feared what it would make him. Would he be like his father or his mother: resent or retreat?
As JJ's eyes sweep down to your sleeping self, he decides what he'll be. He'll be neither. He'll be himself. He'll be resilient.
One of JJ's hands raises and his fingers lovingly stroke at your hair. You donât wake, just shift a little, and a barely there smile slinks onto your face.Â
âDonât give up on me, baby,â JJ mumbles, petting the strands of your ever changing hair. His good looking girl. âThese times are hard and theyâre makinâ us go crazy, but donât give up on me. Cause I meant every word.â
For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherishâŠ
"Til' death do us part."
#jj x reader#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj#obx#outer banks#outerbanks#jj fic#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x reader fic#jj x reader fic#obx fic#outerbanks fic#outer banks fic#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#john b x reader#john b#pope hayward#pope hayward x reader#jj x fem!reader#jj x oc#jj maybank x fem!reader#fem!reader#obx 4#outerbanks 4#outer banks 4
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My Bad, Man.
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Reader
Summary: being needy for JJ while he plays video games with Pope and John B.
Warnings: implied smut, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, implied/mentions of dom!jj and sub!reader at the end
Word Count: 703 words
This is my first OBX/JJ fic. Let me know if y'all want more for the show or this character, requests are open!!! Send them in, pls. Enjoy!!
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âDude! Get the fucking zombie. Donât let it kill you! POPE! Thatâs it. Iâm not reviving you.â You hear JJ, from the living room, scream into his mic on his headset as he jams the buttons on his controller. Rubbing the towel over your legs, you finish drying your body off and grab your underwear from the bed when an idea arises. With a smirk, you drop the material back into your underwear drawer before grabbing JJâs shirt and draping it over your torso, then walk past his spot on the couch, making your way to the kitchen. The fabric meets near your mid-thigh, barely covering your bottom as you reach for the cup from the top shelf.Â
âGuys! Iâve got this generator. Protect the others!â JJ demands, focused solely on the game before him, not noticing you moving about the kitchen. Filling your glass, you walk over to JJ and sit down the glass of sweet tea on the coaster before him. The sound of the glass finally gathers Jâs attention as his gaze turns to you, a sweet smile painted on his face when he notices his shirt.
âYou always wear them better than me.â He says, covering his mic before he gestures for you to come to him. Leaning down, you capture his lips when you feel his hands slide past your hips to grip your ass before smacking your skin. Feeling your naked skin leads his hands to wander lower as you let his tongue invades your lips. A growl erupts from the blonde under you as he grabs your thighs and pulls you to straddle him.Â
âNo panties? My needy girl.â He whispers against your lips as he adjusts himself, so his growing bulge rubs against your core, earning a moan from you before his hand snakes up your chest and then grip your neck, making you grind against him harder, only the thin fabric of his boxers between the two of you. As JJ leans back and starts pulling down his boxers, Pope screams through the mic reminding JJ of the game. Neither of you realized his controller had fallen to the carpet when you straddled him, causing his character in the game to no longer to protect what he was supposed to.Â
âJJ Maybank! Protect the damn generator!â Pope's yells are muffled but clear as you smirk at your boyfriend, who gives you a knowing look. With a nod, he removed his boxers before you gave him his controller and let him wrap his arms around your waist as he lowered you onto his cock. Biting your lip, you close your eyes as you try to focus on the feeling of him stretching you, then lay your head on JJâs shoulder, peppering kisses along his jawline.
âDamn, youâre so perfect. You take me so well, baby.â JJ groans as you shift to wrap your legs around his waist, driving him deeper and making you bury your face in his neck. JJ allows you time to adjust before pulling the mic back to his face.
âShit, Iâm sorry, guys. I spilled my drink and had to get a towel. My bad, man.â JJ attempts to convince them.
âYeah. Sure. I bet you were making out with Y/N.â You could practically hear John Bâs smirk through the microphone. JJ laughs, causing his hips to move, making an unexpeave your lips.
âOh, my god! Are they fucking right now? What the fuck?â Pope' had to move the left side of his headphone, making you able to hear them better as well.Â
âWhat? No! Never.â JJâs holding you to him as he giggles uncontrollably.
âIâm done. You all are gross.â John B and Pope say in unison, making you and JJ laugh harder. Once both of your friends leave the game, JJ turns off the console before tossing the controller to the other side of the couch.Â
âYou ready, pretty girl?â JJâs full attention is now on you, making you bashful as you feel yourself start to submit to him as his lustful eyes look over your body before stopping on your lips, his tongue wetting his own.Â
âYes, sir.â
#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank angst#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj obx#jj maybank#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank imagines#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj x reader#obx x reader#obx smut#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#obx jj
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jj maybank nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)
navigation taglist requests
BEFORE YOU START READING: THERE IS A SPOILER OF SEASON 4 AT THE BOTTOM, SO IF YOU WANT TO AVOID IT, DON'T READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW
A = Aftercare (what theyâre like after sex) Before JJ got involved with you, he was hardly the type to pay attention to aftercare. All the girls that came before were either only for one night or he didn't care enough about them to be concerned about what would come after their intercourse. It was the same for their part, so sex alone was enough. However, when he met you and your first intercourse occurred, JJ felt he had to do something more. Since then, he talks to you for a long time afterwards, you go to take a bath together to embrace each other after intercourse, and he is even more clingy than always
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partnerâs) Oh, JJ is a big fan of his body. He is well aware that he is damn handsome and has a well-sculpted body, so he often shows it off. And in you? JJ appreciates everything, really. He loves your hands, because he can grab them when he wants and intertwine his fingers with yours. He loves your lips, which he could kiss over and over again. He loves your thighs, which he keeps lying on and squeezing them. But you can't take away from the fact that he's pussy drunk. What the heck, but JJ loves your pussy the most and whenever he gets the chance, he's in it or by it. That's it
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Creampie!!! Has anyone heard this? CREAMPIE! JJ loves, adores, well normally he would give up everything just for the sight of you with your combined juices flowing out of your pussy
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) JJ doesn't have too many dirty secrets, maybe some kind of triangle? Or I don't know, an orgy? Just kidding. JJ is able to give up everything just for that, until you finally dominate him to the max like that. Mostly he is the one who dominates, but every night he dreams about it until you finally do it
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what theyâre doing?) Let's not lie to ourselves, JJ is a bit of an Outer Banks man whore, so his experience is quite high. The way he works his tongue, his fingers, let alone his cock, oh god. God of sex, there's no denying it
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl. JJ loves your breasts and the fact that he has them in full glory in front of him in this position is downright addictive to him. He can touch them, suck them, kiss them. Likewise, he has great access to your face, which he loves to look at and see your face contorted in the pleasure you both give each other. Plus, I've already mentioned how much he dreams of you dominating him. And this position falls a bit under that, especially when he doesn't help you from below and you can lead you to orgasm alone
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) This is JJ, everyone knows his being clumsy in life. It's the same in bed. Many things amuse him and his mouth doesn't close during your intercourse. He was even amused by the way the spring in the couch at John B's house flew out when he just happened to be taking you from behind. Well, John B was not amused by thatâŠ.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) JJ has a lot of hair on his head and legs, so I think he's not completely shorn there either. But so that it's not sloppy and kept in order. As for you, I think he would also prefer it not to be thick there. Although too often it lands between your legs to worry about silly hair. As long as it's hygienic and the rest he doesn't care. And I even think that some patterning would excite him
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Yes, as I mentioned - since he is with you, he has seen that being romantic in life is not bad at all. And although he sometimes fails (he almost burned down the Chateau when he tried to make a romantic evening with candles), he still tries. He likes to chic you romantic baths, admittedly in the Jacuzzi, but you don't complain. Bubbles, cheap wine and JJ, who is all over you, is all you need.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Maybank is still an excitable teenager and often thinks with his dick, so he needs to shake off the feeling that still holds him down. Most of the time then he finds himself immediately around you so you can help him, but when you're really not there and you can't give him yourself, well, he's left to masturbate to your pictures, which he has in a special folder. Or the videos you amateurishly recorded one day for fun
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I don't know if you can call it kink, but JJ often likes to have sex with you in public. That is, it's not strange for him to suddenly have sex in the sea or do you good on the boat when you were originally supposed to go âfishingâ
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere, really. JJ has the âI can here and nowâ method, really, it's not even a joke anymore. If only you are ready, he is able to do anything just to get inside you
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Just you. JJ sees you and already has a problem in his pants. Well, what can I say? He's totally pussy whipped and all it takes is one nod from you and he's already ready for action. Your presence in the same room already has him even begging so he can have sex with you or at least touch you a little bit
A/N: part two will be here soon! (If anyone wants me to tag them - let me know in the comments) I will be terribly pleased if you reblogged it :) Of course, if you liked it! I want to create a larger Outer Banks community here, because for now I have reached a small number of this fandom
SPOILER: as you already know, season 4 left us in despair and grief after JJ's death. however, I am not going to stop writing about him. love you JJ, rest in peace sunshine :(
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
#jj obx#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#outer banks#obx#obx season 4#obx cast#obx4#outer banks season 4#jj outer banks#jj x y/n#jj x you#jj x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x you#outerbanks#obx imagine#obx fic#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank fluff
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đŁđŁ đŠđđČđđđ§đ€ đŠđđŹđđđ«đ„đąđŹđ à«ąàŒàŒàż
⥠favs | â request | đ song |
đđ§đ đŹđ
: ÌÌâ the other girl â
: ÌÌâ you belong with me âđ
: ÌÌâ by your side â
: ÌÌâ birthday blues
đđ„đźđđ
: ÌÌâ starry night đâĄ
: ÌÌâ cold morning âĄ
: ÌÌâ baking
đŹđŠđźđ
: ÌÌâ
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: ÌÌâ twin sister au! headcanons â
#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine#obx jj#jj obx#jj x oc#jj maybank#jj x reader#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank masterlist#jj maybank x sister reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank angst#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks masterlist#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#masterlist#fanfic#jj x you#jj x rafe x reader
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A SECRET IN YOUR SMILE - When Spencer and you go on a date and end up dancing in the rain
Word count: 3.4k approximately
Genre: Fluff
A/N: I have written this fic for @pathologicalreid 's Margovember. I hope you like it Margot <3
I have tried to change my writing style.
âThat was nice,â Spencer says, looking at you like heâs trying to send a secret message through his eyes. You swear heâs about to pull out a satellite dish and try to communicate via telepathy. Seriously, if he could figure out how to do that, heâd be the first person to turn it into a PhD thesis.
You smirk, leaning slightly toward him. âThen would you say I made your night, Dr. Spencer Reid?â You say it playfully, your voice light and full of sweetness. The night air is cool against your skin, and the moonlight casts a soft glow over the empty street around you.
Spencer turned his head to you, a smile tugging at his lips, but it was the way his eyes lingered on you that made your heart flutter. The gentle curve of his smile didnât just come from the jokeâit came from something deeper, something unspoken that was hard for him to name.
When you said his full name, Spencer felt a stirring he wasnât used to. It was as if, in that moment, you had torn down all the walls that usually kept him safe from his own vulnerability. You didnât just speak his nameâyou made him feel as though it had purpose, as if it meant something. Maybe it was because no one had ever softened it like that before. Not since his mother.
His breath caught as you looked up at him. You always made him feel safe in a way that nothing else could. There was no judgment in your eyes, no expectation, just an openness that let him be who he wasâbroken, complicated, and sometimes unsure. Yet with you, he never felt any of those things were reasons to pull away. With you, they were just pieces of him, and you loved them anyway.
âSpencer?â Your voice gently pulled him out of his thoughts. He had been lost in them, but it was a place he didnât mind beingâespecially when you were there.
âYeah,â he replied, his voice a little breathless, as if you had caught him off guard. He glanced over at you, eyes wide, and a quiet smile spread across his face. âYou did. Yeah.â
You smiled at his flustered response, though you sensed a deeper current beneath it. There were things in his past, things he didnât share with anyone, but you knewâhe knewâhe didnât have to say them for you to understand. Your smile softened at the thought. You knew that thisâthis moment, this connectionâwas something more than he ever let himself believe he deserved.
âActually, no one has done something like this for me,â he said, the confession coming out quieter than heâd intended. A flicker of shame, maybe. Maybe just self-doubt. His voice wavered, but there was something else behind itâsomething that told you he had more to say but couldnât quite get it out.
You can tell heâs thinking about something deeper â about how no one has treated him this way before. And you canât say youâre surprised. Spencer Reid is the type of guy who doesnât get a lot of praise or affection, at least not in the way he deserves. You know that. Heâs always had walls up, and yet, somehow, youâve always managed to slip past them without even trying.
You smiled, but it was gentler now, aware of the weight of his words. Your heart twisted slightly, but you masked it with a softness in your expression that only Spencer would recognize. You knew this wasnât just about the dateâit was about the history he carried, the unspoken scars he hid.
âSo you hadnât been corrupted yet?â you say with a dramatic gasp, raising your fist to the sky. âYES!â You almost trip over your own feet, but you recover and strike a pose like youâre the hero in a cheesy action movie. Spencer cracks up, shaking his head, but the way he looks at you? Like you just won the gold medal in charm.
 âAlright, now Iâm gonna teach you how a real woman treats a handsome, insightful, gentleman like you,â you tease, winking at him. Spencerâs laughter is pure, his whole face lighting up at your theatrics.
You raised an eyebrow. âActually, youâre more insightful.â You could feel the pride in his gaze, in the way his eyes followed you with quiet admiration.
âThatâs not possible. You profile people, Spence, and you have three PhDs,â you said with a playful grin, but there was an undertone of sincerity in your voice. It was so easy to get lost in Spencerâs brilliance that sometimes you forgot how rare it was for someone to be this passionate, this dedicated to something they loved.
Spencerâs gaze softened, and he tilted his head as he met your eyes. âAnd youâre a Quantum Computing researcher. Youâre more insightful than youâre giving yourself credit for, Y/N,â he said. The pride was still there, but now it had grown into something more personal, something that made you feel seen in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be.
âYour field is amazing, Y/N. It has so much potential to growâmixing quantum mechanics with computers. It has huge research potential.â His words were earnest, but it was the way he said themâlike he meant every syllable like he was truly captivated by what you didâthat made your heart swell.
You blinked at him in surprise. âI didnât think youâd be so⊠fascinated by it,â you said, genuinely touched by his interest. You smile, feeling a little self-conscious but secretly thrilled. âItâs not exactly a field a lot of people understand.â You laugh softly, thinking of all the men youâve met who couldnât even look past your work to see you as anything other than âtoo smart.â Spencer, though, he sees you. Really see you.
"Honestly, I don't know how Emily Prentiss managed to get us together, but thank god she did," you murmur under your breath, sending a quiet prayer to whoeverâs listening.
"Your field is amazing," Spencer says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Mixing quantum mechanics with computing? That's huge. Youâve got so much potential to change things."
You smile at him, feeling both proud and a little shy at his praise. "Well, thank you. You're not so bad yourself, you know." You wink, and his grin stretches wider.
"Iâm just lucky I found someone who actually gets me," he says, glancing sideways at you with that quiet intensity. "You're the most intriguing person Iâve ever met, Y/N."
You laughed softly, but the warmth of his words lingered. "And not all men would be interested in their girlfriendâs field," you say, your voice softening. "I mean, I've had more than a few dates with men who... just couldnât handle it, you know?"
Spencer laughs softly, a fondness slipping into his tone. "Well, theyâre all missing out. They canât see the full picture like I can."
You looked at him, captivated by his words. A small laugh escaped you, but it was warm, touched with something deeper.
âYou know, the shine of your words would brighten your reputation in any girlâs mind, right?â You asked, teasing him, but your eyes searched his face, hoping to gauge whether he knew how much power his words held over you. His tilted look made you laugh out loud.
âYouâre so adorable, Spencer,â you said, your voice softening with affection. âYou know not all men would be interested in their girlfriendâs field. Many women face those who belittle them for their intelligence, who donât appreciate them for who they are.â
You leaned closer, your voice quiet but sincere. âIf they got to know I have such a great boyfriend, they might try to snatch you away.â You winked, playfully swiping your hand across his arm.
âWell, theyâd all be disappointed,â Spencer said with a smile, his fondness slipping through his words. âI have a very gorgeous girlfriend who Iâm not gonna leave. No matter what.â
You feel the weight of his words, the sincerity that lingers in the air between you two, and it makes you pause for a moment. Like heâs offering you a secret promise only the two of you understand. It feels like home.
You freeze for a second, your heart skipping a beat at the way he said ânot leaving.â Itâs casual like heâs just stating the obvious, but for some reason, it makes your chest feel a little tight. A warm little bubble of emotion rises inside you, and you blink it away, hoping he doesnât notice.
You roll your eyes dramatically. âI swear, Spencer, you keep making these âIâm-not-going-anywhereâ declarations, and Iâm gonna need to see a cardiologist.â
Spencer, utterly unaware of the havoc heâs wreaking on your heart, just grins. "Iâll go with you if thatâs what you need. We can make it a date.â
You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection.
âWhat if she drinks your whole pot of coffee?â you asked, your voice taking on mock seriousness.
Spencerâs eyes widen, his voice going up a pitch. âYou wouldnât!â He looks at you, half horrified, half playful, and it makes you laugh again.
âWhat if I eat all the sugar as well, Spencer?â You asked with a sly grin, your words teasing him as you shot a glance over your shoulder to gauge his reaction. You could almost feel the weight of his answer hanging in the air, a playful, stormy tension crackling between you two.
Spencer stood there, motionless, his gaze unreadable. His hands were at his sides, and there wasnât even a twitch in his expression. You stopped walking and turned back, brows furrowing in confusion. Was this really bothering him this much? Your eyes searched his face, waiting for something, anything to give you a clue.
âSpencer?â You poked him on the cheek, once, then twice, your eyes searching for any flicker of expression that would tell you what was happening in his mind.
âSpencer!â A third poke, this time more insistent, and still, nothingâjust that maddening stillness. âDid I break him?â You muttered under your breath, a small, teasing laugh escaping as you wondered if your mention of sugar had been too much of a blow to his senses.
The moment you saw him raise his hand, a smirk threatening to escape, your eyes widened. With a sharp, playful shriek, you bolted in the opposite direction, knowing exactly what was coming.
âI trusted you,â you called over your shoulder, eyes wide in mock outrage as you sprinted down the street, your heels clicking loudly against the pavement. Spencer was right behind you, his long legs easily closing the distance.
âY/N, you made a mistake by telling me.â His voice was steady, almost teasing, but the underlying tone of warning was clear.
âI shouldnât have told you about tickling.â You slumped against him, your arms folding over your chest as you surrendered to the inevitability of his grip. His strength was a comfortâone you never minded giving in to when it came to moments like this.
âTechnically, you didnât tell me.â Spencerâs voice was light, but there was that mischievous glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. âYou just made it obvious. You feel ticklish when someone touches your shoulder. It was kind of hard to miss.â
âNot always!â You half-yelled, the protest feeling more like a playful challenge than an argument.
âMostly, honey,â he said with a shrug, his smile knowing, the corners of his lips curving in a way that made you want to melt and run at the same time.
But before either of you could continue your teasing back and forth, the weatherâso far so quietâsuddenly began to shift. A few drops fell, small at first, almost apologetic, but then the heavens opened, and rain poured down in torrents, soaking everything in its path.
In an instant, you were both running, your hands still clasped together, trying to keep your balance in the downpour. You could hear the echo of your footsteps against the pavement, the soft splash of rain on the street. Spencer had his cardigan out, draping it over your head to shield you, but it was a losing battle. Within moments, both of you were thoroughly drenched, your clothes clinging to your skin, water running down your faces.
As you reached the bus stand, you pulled the cardigan tighter around your shoulders, seeking any relief from the cold. The yellow lamplight flickered overhead, casting a soft, golden hue on the wet world around you. The sound of the rain hitting the ground was the only thing that filled the space between you, soothing and quiet. The storm raged, but here, in this small patch of light, you were safe.
You tilted your head back slightly, taking in the sight of the rain pouring down, your lips parting in a gentle smile. There was something about itâthe rawness, the purity of the momentâthat filled you with a kind of peace.
âI love rain,â you said, your voice soft, almost a secret shared with the world around you.
Spencerâs gaze shifted to you, his eyes searching your face, as though trying to understand this new piece of you that had revealed itself. âYou do?â His voice was laced with both curiosity and admiration, his smile widening as he took in your fascination with the moment.
âYeah,â you answered, simply and truthfully.
Spencer thought about it for a moment, weighing his options. And in that quiet pause, you saw his heart make a decision. With a gentle pull, he took your hand, his fingers warm against your chilled skin. âCome on,â he said, his voice firm, but with the warmth of someone who only ever wanted to see you happy. âCome on, weâre going out there.â
You blinked, laughing incredulously as you looked at him. âWhat?â
âYou love rain, right?â He didnât hesitate. His grip on your hand tightened as he gently tugged you further. âThen come on.â His gaze softened, something more than just fondness thereâtrust, perhaps.
âBut you donâtâŠâ You hesitated, still unsure.
âNot exactly. I donât love getting drenched, but you do. And besides,â he shrugged, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, âI love the solitude it brings. The quiet.â A little smile tugged at his lips as his eyes danced with a deeper affection. And I love you, he thought, but didnât say aloud.
The way his confidence shone through told you everything you needed to know. Without another word, you let him lead you out into the storm.
The world felt quieter now, as you both stood in the middle of the street, drenched and laughing. You closed your eyes, the rain falling around you in a symphony of gentle soundsâearth and water and lifeâall mingling together.
You extended your hand toward Spencer, a silent invitation, a beckoning that pulled him toward you as you both began to move together. The rain no longer felt like a downpour, but like an invitation to something new, something shared, something simple. You danced together, the rhythm of the rain matching the beat of your hearts, your spirits blending into the quiet, beautiful chaos of the storm.
The rain fell harder, but neither of you cared. You spun, and he spun with you, not perfectly, but it didnât matter. You were together, lost in this simple, beautiful moment of joy. Spencer pulled you close, his hand around your waist as his other arm snaked around your back, holding you steady. You could feel the warmth of him, even through the rain.
And in that moment, Spencer Reid, for once, didnât feel different. He didnât feel out of place or disconnected from the world around him. He felt... home. And he knew, without a doubt, that you were his home.
Spencer realized that everything he once thought wasnât possible for him was now right here in his arms. Your presence was his answer, his unspoken dream come true. And for that, he could never express enough gratitudeâfor you, for this life, for Emily, who had brought you to him.
He continued to gaze at you, his eyes intense yet somehow full of wonder, as if trying to read the hidden depths of you. The air between you both felt different now, charged in a way it hadnât been before. Something had shifted. Something that neither of you had anticipated, but both felt with a quiet certainty.
You flushed under his steady gaze. Normally, you avoided staring directly into Spencerâs eyes for too long. You preferred glancing at him, quick little moments of connection, but right now, his gaze felt like too muchâlike it was peeling back layers you weren't ready to share.
You looked away, awkwardly focusing on something elseâanything but the intensity of his eyes. But before you could settle on the car parked nearby, you felt his hand gently lift your chin, guiding your face back toward him. His thumb traced a small, tender circle on your skin, and you couldnât help but shiver slightly.
âYou keep looking away, honey,â Spencerâs voice was soft, almost like a quiet confession, and it shot warmth straight through you. His words curled inside your chest, grounding you in a way that left you speechless. You tried to break the silence.
âThere was something there,â you muttered, attempting to save yourself from the teasing look he was giving you. But you knew there was no escaping that playful glint in his eyes.
The two of you continued down the path, but the sharp pain in your feet that had been there before seemed to disappear. The moment was too perfect to think about anything else. Still, the quiet frustration over your heels persisted. âDamn, these heels,â you muttered under your breath, rubbing your aching feet.
Spencer, ever the observant one, heard your soft exhale and noticed the slight wince as you walked. âWhat happened?â His voice was concerned, gentle.
âItâs just these heels, nothing much,â you replied, but you couldnât help but shoot the shoes a look that spoke volumes. Spencer, ever the mind reader, saw through your act.
âWhat if I pick you up? You wouldnât feel any pain,â he offered, voice laced with genuine care. The thought of you in pain hurt him more than he cared to admit, and he wanted to do anythingâanything at allâto ease that discomfort.
âSpencer, itâs okay. Iâll manage,â you reassured him, but the look on your face, part stubbornness and part affection made it clear that you werenât fooling him.
But Spencer, always the one to offer help even when it wasnât asked, didnât wait for permission. One moment, you were standing on your own two feet; the next, you were in his arms, effortlessly lifted by the man who could do anything in your eyes.
âSpencer!â You laughed, your voice a mix of surprise and mock protest, but you knew from the look in his eyes that nothing was going to stop him now.
He smiled, clearly proud of himself. âDid you know that red carnations symbolize love, admiration, and deep affection?â The words tumbled out, a sudden shift in conversation that you knew was leading somewhere. âWhile roses are associated with purity and innocence, they also symbolize respect and sincerityââ
You looped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself a little closer to his chest, knowing exactly where this was going. Youâd heard him talk about flowers before, but this time, it felt different, like he was trying to say something beyond the simple meanings of petals and stems.
ââand their combination togetherââ
You finished for him, smiling up at Spencer with a playful glint in your eyes. âMeans passionate love, respect, and pure affection.â
Spencer blinked in surprise, his lips parting slightly as if he hadnât expected you to finish the thought. You smirked, delighted at how easily you could read him.
âI was seeing how long it would take you to notice the significance,â you teased, the corners of your mouth tugging upward.
He studied you for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across his face. âYou really thought about today a lot?â His voice held a note of amusement, mixed with affection.
You raised an eyebrow, your smile widening. âSweetheart, when one has a lovely boyfriend like you, they ought to put in the effort. Iâd put thought and effort into you every day.â
His heart swelled, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. It was just the two of you, standing together, entwined in the quiet love youâd both foundâsomething Spencer had never believed would happen, but now couldnât imagine living without.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x oc#reid x reader#reid x y/n#spencer walter reid#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#jj jareau#reid criminal minds#mgg#Margovember
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No Personal Space..
It's JJ's turn! Just some slight attraction.. OK, it's heavy attraction, but their both too stubborn to actually admit it - whatever! Honestly, I loved the version before I started to paint over it
That looks so much better to me, lol
But anyways I hope you guys enjoy! âĄâĄ
Fellow JJ enjoyers: @rafeyscurtainbangs @loserboysandlithium @eddiesxangel @princessmaybank
#artists on tumblr#original art#digital art#digital artist#jj obx imagine#obx imagine#jj obx#obx fic#obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj outer banks#outer banks jj#outer banks masterlist#outer banks oc#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x kook!oc#kook!oc#digital artwork#digital drawing#digital painting#clip studio paint#artist#architecture#my art
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jj maybank headcannons!
warnings: none, pure fluff!
requested by this ask! thank you anon <3
pairings: boyfriend!jj x shy!girlfriend!reader <3
ᄫᥠshy!girl!reader who always has to tutor jj because he cant listen in class for shit. lucky for him, his girlfriend has all the notes, cause shes observant <3
ᄫᥠshy!girl!reader who tugs on jjs arm when shes ready to leave a public setting, or just wants to get out of a conversation, luckily her boyfriend is good at making excuses.
ᄫᥠshy!girl!reader who always asks jj to order her food for her in a drive thru, or when waiters take their order, cause shes too shy to tell them what she wants, afraid she will stutter or say something wrong.
ᄫᥠshy!girl!reader who hates going on on dates in public, not because shes embarrased of jj, but because shes scared she will get mean looks.
ᄫᥠshy!girl!reader who texts jj when she meets up with him at a place, making him come get her instead of finding him her self
đ boyfriend!jj who always has to make the first move in the relationship, whether it be the first kiss, first time having sex, first time sleepover, etc. but ofc he doesnt mind, because he loves how shy his girl is, he knows that shes only his.
đ boyfriend!jj who doesnt pay attention in school on purpose, so that when he gets home he can call his pretty girlfriend over to teach it to him instead of a lame teacher <3
đ boyfriend!jj who constantly does goofy things to try and get you to bring out your goofy side that he hardly sees
đ boyfriend!jj who randomly pecks your lips or your forehead, during conversations with others when your sitting on his lap, to let you know he's still there
đ boyfriend!jj who always lets you rant about books or movies to him, even if he doesn't understand because he doesn't ever wanna not hear you talk.
#jj maybank#outer banks#imagine#fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#obx fic#rafe cameron#the kooks#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank icons#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x you#obx jj#jj obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks smut#jj maybank series#jj maybank fic#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank rp#jj maybank obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank gif#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x routledge!reader
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request; jj blurb idea! wearing his clothes for the first time/him seeing you in his clothes for the first time. maybe showering at the chateau but you didnât bring anything so he gives you a tshirt! hehe literally kicking my feet under the table rn
pairing; jj x fem!reader
warnings; fluff, maybe suggestive
authors note; i was doing the same when you sent this anon in love with this idea ! (req a blurb from below w whatâs left on the prompt list, or send in blurb, imagines, & fic ideas) a few more hours until season 3!
other ways to say i love you prompt list
The opportunity to wear JJâs clothes tainted your thoughts undoubtedly.
Not only because it belonged to him but because everything about JJâs wardrobe, is so JJ.
No problem with repping any and everything that belonged to your infamous boyfriend. Wether it be wearing his pair of boxers as shorts, a wife beater to slumber in, or a random tee shirt to go out in broad day light.
You just longed for his material to be around your figure.
Congenial and adequate, soft yet comfortableâ all elements of his clothes that are alike with JJ.
They are his clothes, after all.
âJJ let go of me!â
Stood smack in the the middle of JJâs room at the chateau. His window partially open, wind bristling from the night air, making its way through. Whilst the hard wood floors beneath the two of you tracked the imprints of your feet. Bed rolled around in, from you forcing JJ off of you thenâ merely to let you get up and off of the bed to shower, that you did. Since you came out though, wearing little clothing, (given that there wasn't much of your own items lying around at the Chateau) he hasn't let you be.
He encapsulates you with his sinewy arms, body swallowing you whole. Whilst you forcefully push your hands against his broad, shirtless chestâ the skin mellow and thick. Indentations of your miniature hands marking his skin, like your were a rag doll; screaming for dear life.
All JJ could muster was a low, raspy chuckle.
âSay you wonât leave.â
JJ wanted to make love to you all day long.
Not sex.
But emotionally.
To emotionally make love, to have and hold. A day full of luster, every millisecond spent around or with you. To confide in and maybe even shrink you and put you in his pocket.
A keepsake.
âYou know I canât, I donât have another change of clothes.â
Behind every âcanâtâ JJ miraculously finds a way, opportunity at hand to see you clad in something of his.
âLets find you something of mine?â
JJ flicks his tongue, peering down at you due to the fact that he knows heâs won and you arenât moving a muscle. His hands maneuver themselves to the lower part of your ass, hands habitually grasp the masses with a squeeze of his hands.
âAre you gonnaâ give me something to wear then or what?â
You hid your secret giddiness inside, not wanting to be the one to initiate this sentimentâ things seemingly working themselves out anyway.
âActually, baby ⊠just fuckinâ walk around naked ⊠sâeven better.â
He acknowledges the glint in your eye, possibly even a twitch that says, âget me some damn clothes before I wring your neck.â
âOkay okay, whatchaâ thinkinâ a little Heywards t-shirt action ⊠Bait Shop shirt ⊠?â
He let go of you distastefully, instantly salivating for the contact again. Walking over to the wooden drawers of his dresser, pulling out multiple optionsâ signaling you to come over and pick.
âSurprise me.â
And you turn around, facing the emptiness of his room, that wasnât his room, but nonetheless. Rummaging was heard as he hummed and mumbled minuscule things to himself.
âTurn around, pretty girl.â
An off-black brownish t-shirt is thrown into your hands. A decor in the upper left side that read âSex Wax Est 2005â, font circular and embellished with stars on either end.
âYour turn-â
He was already turning around, the gentlemen that he prided on being. You grinned at the cotton beneath your digits, bringing it up to your noseâ though it had been washed, his powerful musk still retained it. The silky sensation of yeasty beer and a freshly rolled blunt encompassed your senses.
âNeed more time?â
âJust a second, J.â
If only he knew your fixation was obsessive beforehand.
âIâll just be here ⊠yâknow ... missin' my girl."
Feet away, physical touch being his love language fully had a choke hold on him per usual.
After you were done with your inspection you pulled the thin material of your cropped cami past your shoulders, bra clasped tight to your back. Leaving you to remove those lacey pocketed shorts that adorned your body; his shirt lazily pulled past your head, drowning you in its bigger size, falling just to your mid thigh.
The sole way to sleep with JJ disclosed.
You felt more his than you ever had in the past; claiming his array of bib and tucker with exuberance.
His baby suffocating in him.
You cleared your throat gesturing for him to turn around, his mouth gaping open as he's awe struck; open long enough that you were impressed something didn't fly in it.
"Shit you look better than me!"
Ogle eyes whilst his mouth formed a tight-lipped smile, stomach churning and insides wavering at the woman he chose to take part in his life with him.
It may be a shirt to most, but with his person inside of it made it all the more nostalgic, heart growing tender.
"C'mere gotta get a better look at you."
Following suit you step forward to him, lips instantly connecting with your jaw with pure infatuation.
"S'perfect baby."
"Yeah? Think I can pass as the new JJ Maybank?" In the same position the two of you were in minutes ago, except grins are wider and souls aching all the more for eachother; and you mocked him.
"Pass me a beer and a J."
#jj maybank imagines#outer banks#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#obx3#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x sister reader#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank x kiara carrera#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank headcanons#jj maybank smut
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Perv!JJ maybank
Warning: MDNI 18+ perv!bestfriend!JJ, surfer!f!reader, allot of beach themes, mentions of masturbation and filthy thoughts, probably some weird shit too lmao
Perv!JJ is the type of guy to hear your name being mentioned and get a boner like the time John B said something as a passing remark and joke while you where there, causing JJ to have to cover his groin with his jacket.
Perv!JJ is the type of guy to knock at your door with some $5 scuba gear and wanting you to go with him just so he can see you in a swimsuit.
Perv!JJ is the type of guy to hear you having girly chats with Kiara and Sarah and start jerking off to your voice talking about god knows what..
Perv!JJ is the type of guy to buy you an ice cream imagining that your lips where around his dick instead of the stupid ice cream.
Perv!JJ is the type of guy who when he finally got you alone at a party would be all over you, kissing, leaving little hickeys, he just wanted you..
Perv!JJ is the type of guy who would want to touch you everywhere any time he saw you.
Perv!JJ is the type of guy to get you to sit on his lap while heâs pushing his boner into your ass cheek
Sorry guys thatâs all I could think of rn :( itâs like 3am
#diary#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#rafe cameron#obx smut#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#jj obx fic#dating jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x you#jj obx imagine#jj obx#jj mayback imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#obx moodboard#rafe obx#obx imagine#obx#obx cast#obx rp#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader
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Rafe Cameron would definitely call your breasts âtitsâ
JJ Maybank would call them some stupid shit like "melonsâ, or âjugsâ, but more commonly, âboobsâ.
John B is a simple man. Heâd probably refer to them as âhis girlsâ.
Pope Heyward would just call them breasts, but when heâs influenced by JJ, heâd call them milkers.
#stvolanis#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx cast#jj obx#jj obx imagine#obx fic#obx#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#john b drabble#john b routledge x you#John b#john b x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank fanfiction#pope heyward drabble#pope heyward x y/n#pope heyward x you#pope heyward x reader#pope heyward#Drabble#Smut
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congrats on 600!! I love ur work smm <3
đŹ how about jj Maybank x âthatâs okay, no need to be embarrassedâ with like a hurt comfort type thingâŠ
i hope this is what you were looking for!! <3
join the celebration
jj maybank x gn!reader (but they get a period)
As soon as you pulled the covers off of your already aching body, you felt the dreaded wetness between your legs. "Shit," you groaned, your voice still a whisper so as to not wake JJ from his sleep. He was barely able to rest now, especially just after his dad had left for good.
You inched off the mattress and started towards the bathroom, stepping over Sarah and John B on the floor.
"(Y/N)?" John B's voice was cautious. "What's up?" He asked groggily. You knew he would rather be sleeping, but he'd taken great care to make sure everyone was okay: especially because he blamed himself for the situation you were in. It was, of course, his dad who had gotten him in to the whole treasure finding gig, but all of you had offered to join in and help him. After all, Pogues for life. And the treasure wasn't a downside.
You gave him a small smile, and John B squinted his eyes to make it out in the dark. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Jus' going to the bathroom." He gave you a thumbs up and rolled over into Sarah's shoulder, pressing a kiss there before closing his eyes and drifting off. You admired his ability to just fall asleep whenever he wanted.
Closing the bathroom door as gently as possible, you sat down on the toilet and tried desperately to clean up the mess. You found an extra pair of underwear and some pajamas under the sink, which you gladly climbed into after a quick rinse in the shower.
Praying that you didn't stain the sheets, you pushed the door open only to find JJ wiping at his eyes, clearly confused. You almost screamed, scared out of your mind, before JJ pressed a hand to your mouth, his wide eyes mirroring yours. "Sorry," you mouthed when he pulled his hand away.
He nodded, his lips tilting up at the edges before grabbing your arm to pull you over to the bed. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, "I changed the sheets, so you can get back in bed." Then he hopped back under the blankets like nothing had happened.
You must have looked extremely bewildered as you crawled into bed because JJ chuckled under his breath. "W-" You stuttered, "how did you know?"
JJ pulled you into his chest, arms circling around your back at he tugged you in closer so you could rest your head against him. You listened to his heartbeat as he spoke, voice rumbling through his chest. "You never wake up that early to shower, and I jus' looked over, sweetheart."
You buried your head into his t-shirt further, if that was even possible. "I'm sorry," you whispered, slightly ashamed that your boyfriend had to clean up your mess.
"Hey." He studied your face carefully, nothing except concern in his eyes. "It's okay. There's no need to be embarrassed, angel. You can't help it." Your eyes teared up and you let out a muffled sob, hormones driving you crazy.
"Oh, honey," he cooed. His voice was so gentle, sticky with his endearments and love for you. "You're okay. Are you hurting?"
Nodding, you leaned away to press a hand against your stomach, but JJ moved over to take his place. His warm palm provided some relief and you sighed softly, returning to the comfortable space beneath his neck. "I'm sorry you're feeling like this," he murmured, "wish I could take it from you."
JJ pressed a kiss to your forehead, and across the room, Pope sat up, rubbed at his eyes and looked over to you and JJ, limbs entwined and cuddling on the bed. He gagged viciously and Kiara burst out laughing, clearly awake now.
You and JJ groaned simultaneously. "They're never gonna stop giving us shit about this, right?" You asked.
"Never."
#underoospeterparker's 600 celebration!#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj obx#jj x you#jj x reader#jj x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x oc#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx cast#obx x reader#obx#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#the pogues#outer banks imagine#spiderman x reader#fluff#comfort#hurt/comfort
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MY GIRL â Kiara Carerra
synopsis: coming home after hanging out with the Pouges and JJâs relentless flirting Kiara canât help but make you remember your her girl, and no one elseâs
warnings: smut, nsfw
Walking into her house, both of you just in bikinis after being on the beach all day with everyone. Hanging out with the Pouges was amazing, the only problem Kiara had was JJ flirting with her girl. You met her friends a while ago when you first started dating, and ever since JJ would always make his little comments about you and it would piss Kiara off, thatâs why he did it.
Looking back you watch at your girlfriend drops yâallâs stuff on the floor before grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs into her room.
She lets go of your wrist and pushes you down on her bed before climbing on top of you. Her hips straddle your waist, keeping you under her âYou my girlfriend not his JJ needs to keep his mouth shutâ she groans, talking a deep breath.
âIâm yours Kie you know that, not JJâsâ You tell her your hands coming on hold her waist. She rolls her eyes and moves down her head going into your neck leaving wet opened mouth kisses down your jaw.
Jealousy ran through her, as she starts to bite and suck on your neck, she had to prove that you were hers, and no one elseâs.
You suppressed a moan when she started sucking on the sweet spot below your ear. Her hands pulling at the strings of your bikini before sliding it off of you. She sits up licking her lips, admiring you for a moment before leaning down and sucking on your breasts.
Kiara bites down on one of your nipples holding it between her teeth as she looks up at your face morphing into pain. She smirks and lets go moving down your body, leaving kisses down your stomach. Stopping right above your bikini she kisses your hip and sucks down leaving a bright purple hickey.
Sitting up she looks down at your admiring your beauty and her work on you.
âPlease Kie, donât tease anymore pleaseâ You beg her your hips trying to move into hers. She smiles and rips your bikini bottoms off, throwing them somewhere in her room.
Leaning down she moves her body so sheâs lying on her stomach. She licks a stripe through your folds watching as your moan âYour so wet baby, all for me huh? Not JJ all mineâ she whispers possessively as you nod your head at her words.
Shaking her head she leans up and looks at your âWords baby come onâ she encourages you, her hand playing your clit.
âM all yours Kie, only yoursâ pleaseâ You beg her wanting nothing more than to cum. She smirks at your words and plunges two of her long fingers into you.
Her fingers start pumping in and out of you hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. Kiara moves up and kisses you as she speeds up her fingers inside you.
Your lips try and follow the pace of hers but she takes control of the kiss and bites down on the bottom of your lip. She pulls your lip between her teeth before letting go, she stares at your face as your jaw drops âYour so beautiful baby, and your all mineâ she says smiling her free hand coming to caress your cheek.
âIâm all yours pretty girlâ You tell Kiara your hand coming to hold her jaw pulling her into another kiss.
Her thumb comes to rub your clit in circles as your stomach tightens. She can feel youâre about to cum, by the way your gummy walls are squeezing around her fingers.
She pushes them deeper and harder inside of your hitting your sweet spot over and over causing your head to fall back a symphony of moans leaving your lips.
Pulling away from the kiss she rubs your cheek âCome on baby come for meâ she tells you rubbing your clit faster.
The band in your stomach breaks as you cum all over her fingers. You whimper when she continues to rub your sore, red puffy clit. You shake your head âToo much Kie, too muchâ you tell her breathing heavily.
Kiara nods and pulls her fingers out of you slowly before bringing them to her mouth, she sucks your juices off of them. She moans at the taste of you before pulling them out of her mouth âGood girl, you taste so goodâ she praises you.
Moves closer to you she kisses your lips making you taste yourself. Your moan is muffled by her lips on yours as you taste yourself.
Pulling away from the kiss she smiles at you and pushes some hair behind your ear âYour all mine babyâ she mumbles laying down next to you.
#kiara carerra x reader#kiara carrera#obx fic#obx#outerbanks x reader#outer banks#obx fanfiction#kiara carerra x you#wlw smut#wlw post#wlw#wlw ns/fw#kiara x you#jj mayback imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank#pope heyward#rafe cameron#obx4#kiara obx#kiara outer banks#obx smut#obx x you#obx x reader#obx x y/n#smut#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x oc
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