jj swears he fell for you the first time you laughed at one of his stupid jokes instead of rolling your eyes at him like everyone else usually does.
he acts annoyed when you make him wear sunscreen but secretly loves when you rub it over his nose and cheeks because it’s one of the few kinds of soft affection he’s gotten used to.
if you’re naturally affectionate he becomes clingy without even realising it. always has an arm around your waist, hooking his finger through your belt loop, pulling you into his chest while he talks to people.
when he’s having bad nights he shows up at your window without texting first and just quietly crawls into bed beside you.
the thing he loves most is that you never make him feel like he’s “too much” to love. you just have a way with people.
you have him wrapped around your finger without even trying. one smile from you and suddenly he’s agreeing to things he swore he’d never do.
compliments from each other go something like this.
you: “well you look mighty fine as always, jj.”
jj: “not as fine as you though, sunshine. swear you walk around this island tryin’ to ruin my life.”
he’d teach you how to drive the boat while standing behind you with his hands over yours on the wheel.
jj is the type to randomly kiss you mid sentence because he “couldn’t help it”.
when he gets hurt doing something reckless he tries to act tough until you start patching him up then suddenly he’s hissing dramatically and whining for attention.
the first time you say “i love you” he goes completely quiet for a second because nobody’s ever said it to him in a way that felt real before. after that he says it all the time. whispered against your lips, mumbled half asleep and yelled across the beach.
a/n: this was so cute!! i felt like sunshine! reader would suit jj the best so i really hope you guys like it and i can’t wait to right some fics for them! :))
you ruined my life (by not being mine) - jj maybank
summary: from the moment jj meets you, he’s determined to hate you, and when he can’t hate you, he’s determined to ignore you, and when that doesn’t work and neither does forgetting you, well, what other option is there?
words: 6.8k
a/n: haters to lovers and an ode to the ten things i hate about you despite the fact that i've never seen it 🤭 i'm only two years late in posting this, but who's counting?
Your hair whipped wildly around your face as you struggled to tame it against the wind blowing in from the open roof of Sarah's Jeep.
Her music was blaring and she was singing along at full tilt to her favorite summer playlist; you couldn't help but smile and laugh as she sang to you like she was putting on a show.
Sarah had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, but she had never been as laidback and happy as she was now, from her car karaoke to the loose-fitting shirt and cutoff jeans she was wearing - a stark difference from her designer wardrobe that matched what you had on. And there was no denying that the change in her mood and her appearance could only be credited to her new friends, her new lifestyle, and her new boyfriend John B.
You were... skeptical to say the least.
You'd heard the stories about the pogues, about the smoking, stealing, partying, drinking, heartbreak and drugs that went on on their side of the island.
But the way Sarah talked about them made them seem like so much more: carefree, interesting, loving and funny. So, against your better judgment, you agreed to a day, just one day at the beach with them on the cut.
As you eyed a shore lined with rundown shacks and untamed dunes, you really couldn't believe she'd talked you into leaving behind pool service and mai tais at the Island Club; there wasn't a teak beach chair or trust fund in sight.
You carried your beach bag and helped Sarah roll a cooler against the warm sand to a small group splayed out on a ragtag pile of towels and blankets as Bob Marley played from a cheap, tinny speaker.
John B hopped up immediately upon seeing you to introduce you to everyone.
You waved at Kiara who smiled warmly back at you with a wave of her own, and Pope gave you a big, friendly hug which made you feel incredibly welcome, but the fourth pogue didn't move; in fact he barely acknowledged your existence, he just laid there, head down on his towel, barely lifting his hand to offer a three-finger wave.
"Ugh, ignore him."
"He's hungover."
"Real nice, JJ" they said in unison by way of apology.
JJ was furious.
First, it was John B falling for the kook queen herself, which meant he saw his best friend less and less as John B traded surfing for sitting on her couch at Tanneyhill like a lapdog.
It made JJ sick knowing John B spent his days surrounded by the very people JJ loathed, the very people they all loathed, or used to anyway. Now the kook invasion was spreading as Sarah was adamant about bringing her best friend along. At this rate, they'd be outnumbered by the end of the summer, and where did that leave them? Where did that leave him? This was more than his group of friends, this was his family.
Sure, they all said "P4L" but he was beginning to think he was the only one who really meant it. He knew if he didn't do something, he risked losing everything, so he decided to ignore you, to act like you simply didn't exist, because maybe then you'd catch on that you weren't welcome.
It wasn't until he was sure you had walked away that he even turned his head and cracked an eye to glance at you. You were strolling towards the water with the other girls, and even from this distance, he could tell your bikini was expensive; the way it hugged your body and realistically didn't cover all that much of it. Gold beads were tasseled on the side, and they perfectly matched the delicate gold jewelry you wore: a tennis bracelet on your wrist, an assortment of delicate rings and a simple anklet that glittered in the sun.
He clocked the way your hair shone in the summer sun, how you had a perfect, uninterrupted tan from your shoulders, down your legs, and even on the plentifully exposed skin of your ass, which had his mind reeling.
When you turned your head he could see your side profile, your long eyelashes, and the curve of your lips as you smiled genuinely at Kiara, and he was struck not only by your beauty, but by the kindness in your expression, how intently you were listening to her, how clear it was that you were trying to fit in, that you wanted her to like you.
He felt his heart thrum in his chest, the way it did when his bike skidded out beneath him, and his stomach roiled.
‘S’just my hangover, just my hangover, just my hangover’ he repeated in his head as every snarky comment that he’d wanted to say about you died on his lips.
He didn’t realize he was propped up on his elbows and full-on staring at you until John B threw an empty beer can at him.
“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad, right?” he said, winking.
JJ shook his head as John B’s words knocked him out of his stupor.
“Nope” he said, laying his head back down and slamming his eyes closed to wash away the mental image of you. “Still a fucking kook” he said as much to John B as to himself.
“Come over to the dark side, man, it’s funnnn” John B teased.
“Fuck you” JJ murmured.
Fuck him indeed.
It was the perfect day to be in the ocean; you reveled at the feeling of the salt on your skin, and the way the cool drops tickled you as they ran down your body on your way back to grab your towel.
You lifted your gaze and caught JJ's eye.
He was sitting up now, leaning back on one hand as he drank a cheap beer with his other. His cobalt blue eyes traced you, narrowed on you like a predator to its prey. You could physically feel the weight of his gaze, but despite the intensity of it, you didn't sense an ounce of animosity there. There was definitely something there, lingering just under the surface that you couldn't put a finger on, but you didn't feel threatened. In fact, it made your cheeks flush, enough that you hoped it would be mistaken for sunburn.
You took a deep breath to steady yourself, smiled, and offered a small wave as you grabbed your towel.
"Hey JJ" you said quietly.
"Your highness" he acknowledge snarkily with a fake smile.
"Give it up, JJ" Pope whisper-yelled, kicking sand at him.
Your heart sunk into your stomach. Gone was the indetectable heat, or whatever else you'd thought you'd seen in JJ's gaze, and there in his cold blue eyes was the reminder that you didn't belong here.
With Sarah gone, Figure 8 didn't feel like home anymore, and now it was clear you weren't welcome here either. You suddenly felt extremely alone, unwanted, adrift somewhere in between.
The feeling rushed so quickly over you that your eyes stung. The rest of the group was arguing with JJ, telling him to leave you alone; you knew they didn't feel the same way, so what was his problem?
The sun was fading from orange to the purples of twilight as Sarah pulled into your driveway and you hopped out of the passenger seat before leaning through her open window.
"Thanks for today. I... actually had a lot of fun" you said.
"I'm sorry, are you admitting I was right?!" she asked dramatically.
"Okay yes, you were right" you admitted, laughing, before you fidgeted, getting serious. "M'sorry about JJ though, I don't think he liked me very much. He's... really different from how you described him...?" you said, tapering off, fishing for information, for some kind of explanation.
"I honestly have no clue what his problem is" she said, shaking her head, her face scrunched in thought. "Honestly, don't let it bother you, we love him, but that boy is all over the place."
Fair enough, you thought. Everyone has their off days.
"You know, they're having people over tomorrow" she said, biting her lip and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you.
You found yourself excited at the prospect of seeing the pogues again, of seeing JJ again, of having another chance to find a way to get him to like you.
"I'm in!" you said through a smile.
You spent more time than you cared to admit picking out your outfit. What said: 'I'm technically still a kook, but I want to fit in here too?' What was pretty but also effortless? What would JJ like? you thought fleetingly, before shaking the notion confusingly from your head.
You settled on a short, flowy sundress from the Kildare surf shop, and you let your hair fall naturally, adding just the smallest touch of makeup to accentuate your natural beauty, which had you radiating with confidence. But when you pulled up to the cut, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.
You were definitely not on Figure 8 anymore.
There weren't BMWs and Mercedes parked neatly outside, instead a few dirtbikes lay in the grass besides beach cruisers and a couple of clunkers. People everywhere were dressed like they'd spent the last month backpacking through Europe, and some girls were even walking around in wet bikinis. You immediately felt out of place; the different style here another stark reminder that you didn't belong as you tugged at your dress.
Sarah picked up on your discomfort and smiled at you before grasping your hand. "You look great" she reassured you, "Come on" she said as she beelined for your friends.
The minute JJ saw you, he could feel the temperature in his body rise considerably, with anger, clearly, he thought, quickly dismissing the notion that it could be anything else.
"Again with this shit?" he muttered in frustration from his spot on the porch railing next to John B.
"There's a hundred people here JJ, lay off it” John B said.
JJ looked at his friend who had his eyes plastered on his girlfriend, and he didn't have the heart to tell him that he was afraid.
Afraid to get left behind, afraid that at this point in the night they were typically owning the beer pong table and now JJ would be spending it on his own and he wasn't sure he knew how; JJ was barely coping with the one kook that had wiggled her way into their lives, he wasn't willing to give up anything more.
His eyes flitted over you. He hadn't intended to give you anything more than a passing glance, but your dress caught his attention. It was different that what he'd seen you in before, it flowed around your body as it caught the summer wind. Your natural hair made you look less uptight, and he could see the faintest tanlines that traced the pattern of your bikini from yesterday. As you got closer, he picked up the hazy scent of coconut and vanilla, and it triggered something deep in him, something that felt a lot like nerves.
You nearly stumbled at his stare, the same glare he had given you at the beach, like he was angry, but also anything, everything but angry.
Being around him felt like dancing with a live wire, completely unpredictable, and you were more determined than ever to make him like you. You knew in your heart of hearts that if you could win him over, maybe you could find a place here, a place to belong.
"Hey JJ! Is that your bike out front? Sarah said—" you started.
"—Stop. Please, just stop."
You bit your tongue as your eyes widened in surprise at JJ's harsh tone.
"I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work, okay?" he said as he worked his jaw back and forth.
"...What I'm trying to do?" you clarified, fighting a wobble in your voice. "Be nice? Be your friend? Get to know you?" you said, your tone rising.
"You don't want to get to know me, sweetheart" he snapped back.
"Says who?"
"Nah, you waltz in here in that pretty little dress actin' like you want to be everyone's friend, pretendin' to be a pogue, attempting to escape your shitty reality for the summer. I can smell your fake bullshit a mile away."
"I-I'm not being fake. Is it so hard for you to imagine I want to be here? When are you going to get over this whole ridiculous kook versus pogue thing anyway?" you pushed. Wait, did he call me pretty?
You felt your cheeks heat as your heart pounded.
For one millisecond, JJ felt bad as he thought he saw your eyes water. But his sympathy was like a flash of lightning, there and then gone. You were a kook, you didn't deserve it despite how innocent you looked.
"You're all the same" he said, convincing himself as he shook his head. "Waste of my fuckin' time" he muttered, brushing past you without looking back.
And for the rest of the night he avoided you at all costs, because if he didn't see you, he could pretend like you were never there.
Except then you were everywhere.
All the time.
Eclipsing his friends and ruining his summer.
At the beach you spent afternoons picking up trash and combing through shells with Kiara when she was supposed to be surfing with him.
On the HMS Pogue, you and Pope traded theories about a book you had both read when he was supposed to be fishing with him.
You even showed up unannounced to his house, which grated on his last fucking nerve.
He had just gotten home from the afternoon shift, yanking off his ridiculous bowtie, exhausted from another day spent getting berated by and cleaning up after kooks just like you to find you in his kitchen, standing on his counter, teetering precariously near the edge, your short shorts leaving just about nothing to the imagination as your shirt lifted higher and higher to expose your tanned skin as you reached for something.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he growled.
"Ohmygod!" you said, jumping, your hand clasping your heart as you wobbled and nearly fell off the counter. "You scared me."
"I scared you!? This is my house!"
"I-I know, John B said there were snacks up here, I couldn't reach..." You looked down at the bag in your hands. "Is this what he was talking about?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course it is. Sorry they're not gluten free, carb free, keto, your highness, this is what people who work for a living can afford."
"Ohmy god JJ I was just asking a question" you said, huffing, as you moved to get down. "Why do you have to take everything I say out of context? I'm not a bad person."
"No, you're right. You're perfectly perfect. I just come home after an 8-hour shift to find you in my house, eating snacks that I paid for. What did you do all day, huh? Sit on your ass?"
You weren't going to tell him you'd spent the entire day helping fix the dock in their backyard. You just slammed your mouth shut, eyes fiery, and met his gaze with your own.
You had endured months of this to this point, and even though it never hurt any less, knowing that you had found friends that accepted you as one of their own gave you the confidence you needed to stand up to him, even as he towered over you and took a forceful step towards you.
"If you don't want me here, just come out with it, JJ" you retorted. "In case you haven't realized it, everyone else does. In fact, they're more than happy to have me here, I was invited, this is John B's house too."
His eyes met yours directly and despite your quickened pulse, and the way the bag of chips rattled in your shaking hand, you glared back, gazing at the iciness in his blue eyes.
You could see him breathing heavily, could see the tic in his jaw as he scowled at you, the same look he always gave you, burning with the same emotion you couldn't identify, didn't have a word for, as you felt your back hit the refrigerator with an ungraceful clunk.
His pupils dilated slightly at the realization that he had you cornered, completely caged in between his body and the cool surface behind you without even realizing it.
It was only a second.
It happened so quickly that for weeks afterward you would think back to this moment and agonize over whether you had imagined the whole thing, but his eyes flitted to your lips.
You blinked rapidly in surprise, really unsure if you were still breathing as you opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by Sarah calling for you.
That seemed to pull JJ out of some kind of daze as he shook his head at you and stormed off.
New strategy he thought as he walked to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Since he clearly couldn't avoid you, he'd do everything he could to forget you.
Wiping his mind blank and drinking himself into oblivion seemed as good a plan as any.
That weekend, JJ and John B had people over again.
You had gotten decidedly more comfortable at their parties; you weren't sure if you'd ever trade a dress for a pair of jean shorts or a bikini at 10:00 at night, but at least you weren't self conscious anymore.
You found yourself looking forward to the late nights spent with your friends, laughing at inside jokes and playing drinking games. JJ made himself scarce; you had an unspoken agreement in the way you shared your friends while staying far away from each other.
You made your way inside to get another drink from the secret stash of all of your favorites that John B kept in his room. It was dark to deter people from wandering in there, but as you pushed the door open you heard a loud thump and the distinct sound of breaking glass. You flipped the light on to see JJ hunched over against the wall, holding a broken bottle.
"Jeezus JJ" you said, walking over to him without giving it a second thought.
"M'fine" he said, trying to push you back, stumbling slightly, but the blood pooling in his hand said otherwise. He could barely stand upright, probably as drunk as you'd ever seen him.
"JJ, you're bleeding...here" you said as you reached frantically for a spare t-shirt on the ground and pressed it into his palm.
It burned and he grimaced, leaning over to avoid looking at you, as his head spun. You were cradling his hand so gently in your own that it raged against every lie he'd been telling himself about the kind of person you were.
His head swam in waves of tequila and emotion as he finally looked up, seeing two of you at first until his eyes focused.
"Can I?" you asked, nodding to his hand and the t-shirt growing crimson in his grasp.
All he could think was how tired he was.
So tired.
Tired of arguing, tired of trying to drink you out of his head, quickly discovering there weren't enough shots of tequila to eliminate every image he had stored in his mind.
So while he didn't say anything, he didn't fight you either as you supported his bodyweight and led him into the bathroom where he sat on the counter, swaying precariously on the edge.
You stood between his legs to steady him and to get a better look at his hand in the light.
At this proximity, your perfume completely overwhelmed him. Your touch was so gentle and careful, he couldn't remember the last time anyone had looked after him like this. It made him feel vulnerable. Like he was a little boy again who sat on a counter just like this one to clean his own hands and knees through his tears every time he hurt himself because no one was going to do it for him.
He felt his throat tighten.
What the fuck was happening?
His head was fuzzy. The liquor in his veins made him feel disconnected from his own body; he couldn't even feel his hand, which might have been concerning if he wasn't completely distracted by you instead.
You were gently biting your bottom lip in concentration as you cleaned and bandaged his hand. A strand of your hair kept falling in your line of sight and you swiped at it repeatedly to get it out of your eyes.
Before he could really process what he was doing, he reached out with his good hand and gently grasped the hair in his fingers, toying with it, curling it in his touch before tucking it gently behind your ear.
You stiffened in front of him and he couldn't understand why... you were so nice and so pretty... and you were here doing all of this just for him...His fingers moved from behind your ear to trace the line of your jaw, pressing gently, urging you to look at him so he could see the flecked color of your eyes.
"Looka'me" he mumbled, instantly regretting his request when your eyes met his own.
He didn't understand.
Why did you look so sad? Scared? He knew that look, it was the one you always gave him, the one he could never quite read. His thumb brushed your cheek in an attempt to make it better, but it only seemed to make it worse, your gaze darkening considerably as you stepped out of his grasp.
"No—" he whispered in protest, reaching for you, immediately missing your warmth.
"You are extremely shitfaced right now" you said steadily, more to yourself than to him.
"Sowhat?" he said, swaying, a cocky grin on his face as he tried to make you smile, tried to make everything okay. "S'not a crimet'hava good'time isit?"
"So you're not going to remember any of this" you replied quietly.
And he didn't.
You could pretend to be a pogue all you wanted, but it wasn't enough to get you out of Midsummers, nor going with whomever your parents had picked for you.
It felt so weird to be back on Figure 8 after the last few months, like trying on your favorite pair of jeans only to find they didn't fit you the way they used to.
You looked like a kook, from your floor-length designer dress that hugged every dip and curve of your body, to your flawless nails and perfect hair, and tonight you acted like a kook to appease your parents, talking with their friends, dancing with your date, but you didn't feel like a kook anymore. In fact, you didn't feel anything close to yourself until you'd finally snuck off with Kiara and Sarah and passed a stolen bottle of wine between you as Sarah laid her head on your shoulder.
Your eyes glazed over the seersucker suits and ridiculous headpieces until they rested on a tangle of blonde hair that had you sitting up a little straighter.
"Is JJ working tonight?" you asked.
Sarah and Kiara glanced briefly at each other before nodding.
You hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks, not since the night of the party, an evening that had played like a TikTok in your head that you couldn't scroll past - looped over and over and over again; the feeling of his warm hand on your cheek, the way his fingers twisted your hair so delicately before tucking it behind your ear, even now you felt a little shudder as goosebumps danced on your skin at the memory. 'Look at me' he'd said, the plea in his voice echoing in your ear.
Your eyes followed him in the crowd, and you couldn't help the way your body reacted, the way your pulse raced and your heart fluttered in your chest. And suddenly you had the urge to talk to him, to hear his voice, to feel his proximity. So much had changed between you this summer, maybe he felt the same way?
Just as you stood to walk over to him you saw him approach a group of your guy friends. One of them said something to him and even from here you could tell that JJ said something snarky back, well acquainted with the expression on his face.
The guy took one sip of his drink and threw the rest on JJ, violently, as the rest of the group laughed. You gasped, as your hand flew to cover your mouth. Your heart burst into a million pieces as you watched him pick his head up, his hair dripping wet, and walk inside like nothing had happened.
"I'll be right back" you muttered quickly as you ran after him.
It was mostly empty inside the club and you pushed through the back doors just in time to see him disappear down a distant hallway.
"JJ!" you called after him.
He halted and turned to look back at you. He looked conflicted for only a moment before he kept walking.
"Just what I fucking need right now" he muttered, as he dried himself with a dish towel.
"Hey! Are you—?"
"—No, I can't get you a drink right now, your highness, I'm a little busy."
The biting anger in his words caused you to stop short, like you'd run into a brick wall.
"What? JJ, that's not why I'm here - I would never ask you to get me a drink."
"Open your eyes!" he shouted at you, causing you to jump. "I'm right where I belong, and you are too" he said, gesturing at the distance between you. "This right here? This is the way it should be."
"No part of you getting a drink thrown at you is the way it should be" you said quietly, and he hated the look of pity in your eyes.
"Go back to your date" he said.
His tone and the hint of bitterness and jealousy it revealed caused your cheeks to flush.
"You are infuriating, you know that?" you said, nearly vibrating with anger. "I came in here looking for you to tell you how sorry I am for what happened, to make sure you were okay, because despite all the shit you've put me through, JJ, you matter to our friends, so you matter to me. And I want you to like me. I desperately want you to like me, JJ, because I've never had to work so hard to fit in... I don't fit in anywhere anymore and you're a constant reminder of that."
Your voice wobbled as the tidal wave of emotions you had been riding for the summer crashed over you, pulling you under, but you didn't stop, couldn't stop now.
"God you royally mess with my head because one minute you look like you want to strangle me and the next—"
You stopped yourself, catching your breath as your chest heaved with exertion, biting back the rest of your sentence... and the next, I swear you want to kiss me.
JJ's blue eyes clouded as he looked at you, willing you to say it, challenging you to say it.
You shook your head.
"Forget it. You don't make any sense, JJ Maybank" you said, resigned, as you moved to leave, your eyes brimming with tears that you refused to let him see fall before you said bitterly, "I'm really glad to see your hand is healing well" before you marched back outside, your heels clicking on the floor.
JJ's mouth opened and closed as he watched you leave and then he looked down at his scabbed hand.
He felt pressure behind his eyes at a memory, like a dream; he couldn't tell what was real and what was fake. He smelled your perfume, remembered the urge to touch you, recalled the release he felt as he tangled his fingers in your hair and stroked your cheek, the look in your eyes.
He turned and kicked the kitchen doors open, slumping just inside of them on the floor as his hands raked through his hair.
Weeks went by.
You had stopped hanging out with the pogues, stopped coming to parties, and beach days and lazy afternoons on the boat.
And fuck it if JJ didn't miss you.
He missed the way you laughed, the sound of it.
He missed the way Pope got excited to nerd out with you, finally able to level with someone that liked reading something more than surf magazines.
He missed the way Kie would light up and pull you into a hug, thrilled to have another girl around finally.
He realized you had become a part of this, a part of them, whether he liked it or not. And he realized he was the reason it had all gone to shit.
So when he heard you'd be at the annual bonfire, he told himself he'd leave you alone. Really, he did.
But then he saw you.
You were with a group of kooks and he couldn't help but to think you didn't look like you fit in with them anymore.
It didn't sit right with him, and he didn't like it.
She belongs with us he thought, certain that he'd ruined that the moment he'd let you walk out of the club at Midsummers, pretending that he didn't see the tears in your eyes.
Now, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He realized after awhile that he was staring, but he didn't care, trying to make up for weeks without you in short glimpses between the crowd.
He didn't like the way the guys you were with were treating you.
He knew them. He heard the way they talked about girls. He watched one of them grab your ass and he shoved his tongue into his cheek, trying to quell the storm battering in his ribcage as he averted his gaze and took a long drink of his beer.
When he looked back, the same guy had his arm around you and JJ swore he wasn't imagining it that you looked uncomfortable; no matter how much he'd pissed you off, you'd never looked at him like that. JJ could feel his pulse in his neck. He wasn't jealous, this just clearly wasn't a good situation for you to be in. He would feel the same way if it was Kiara, or Sarah, right?
The guy grabbed your face roughly, turning you to look at him, and that was it, JJ was walking toward you and shouting your name across the party before he had a moment to think about it.
"YN! Hey!" he shouted, trying to sound casual and friendly, but his urgency and panic shone through.
You turned to face him, your expression deeply confused.
"JJ?" you muttered, like you were seeing a mirage as you took in his messy blonde hair, this backwards cap, the shirt he had on that you knew was his favorite, his rings and his shark tooth necklace.
"Yeah, come on" he said, waving you over with his hand outstretched. "Uh, Sarah needs you or whatever."
"Hey, Maybank, think you could go ahead and fill this up for me?" one of the guys shouted as he tossed an empty red cup at JJ that bounced off his shoulder.
Your heart sank. You knew how much JJ hated these guys, how he avoided them at all costs, and yet here he was, letting their jeers bounce off of him as he looked at you.
He grimaced and you swore you could see him shudder with the effort of not losing his cool.
"Please?" he asked you firmly, his hand outstretched.
Please? Had he just said please? you thought as your feet moved, on autopilot and you placed your hand in JJ's warm grasp. His hand enveloped yours for only a second before he was practically yanking you away from the crowd and down towards the ocean.
"JJ - what? Where is Sarah? Is everything okay?" you asked.
"What the hell are you doing?" JJ asked, breathing heavily with the exertion of dragging you through the party.
"What do you mean what am I doing?" you said defensively. "And since when do you care anyway?!"
You watched a wave of anger wash over him as he dropped your hand, and even though you immediately missed his touch it felt good to stir up an emotion, any emotion in him that could match the way you felt.
"God, I hate you" he said plainly, his face scrunched as he scowled at you.
And even though weeks had passed, his words felt like a knife in your heart, reminding you of every reason you had stayed so far away. Just one sentence and you felt tears building behind your eyes.
"Is that really what you dragged me down here to tell me? Thank you so much JJ, I am well aware" you said, moving to walk past him.
"No, gah - fuck - you don't get it" he said as he reached for your upper arm to stop you, eyes fixed on yours as he continued.
"I hate the little dresses you wear. They don't cover anything, I can see every inch of your tanlines no matter where I look or try not to look. You make it impossible not to stare at you."
You looked at him, confused, as you swallowed and felt your heart constrict in your chest.
"I hate that when you laugh, like really laugh, you squeeze your eyes shut and kick your feet. Your nose scrunches up too.
I hate how you always smell good. We could be on the boat all day and me and John B smell like ass and you smell like you just got out of the shower, like that coconut spray you use. You took my black sweatshirt once and it still smells like you. It smells so fucking good, I haven't washed it yet."
At this point, he had started pacing, his hands on his head, nearly exasperated as the words continued pouring out of his mouth.
"I hate how fucking nice you are to me all the time. It confuses the hell out of me and it doesn't make any sense. I've been an asshole to you and no matter what you're always like 'Hey JJ, I like your bike JJ, I hope you have a good day JJ', my name is always on your lips, your perfect goddamn lips" he said, stopping for a moment to stare at you, to stare at them as he got quieter.
"I hate how happy you make my friends, in ways I don't think I can. I hate how much they love you because I thought that meant they couldn't love me too. I hate how well you fit in with us."
He took a step closer to you, his voice dropping lower.
"I hate how it felt like everyone could dance with you at Midsummers except me. I was stuck making drinks and clearing tables and you were —" he exhaled heavily. "You looked so unbelievably gorgeous that night and I hate that I didn't tell you that."
"JJ" you whispered, tears burning behind your eyes for an entirely different reason now.
But he shook his head, unable to stop.
"I hate how I can't sleep because you're literally all I can think about. It's...exhausting" he said through a laugh. He pulled his hat off of his head and ran his fingers through his hair, avoiding your gaze, gathering himself until he looked at you directly.
"But most of all, I absolutely hate that despite how hard I've tried, I don't hate you at all."
And then he looked at you the way he first looked at you, the way he's always looked at you, in the way you could never quite understand, until now as the gears clicked into place. It wasn't threatening or angry, it was longing. A deep longing, like looking at something you know you can't have, shouldn't want, but need all the same.
"I cannot stop thinking about you. You are in my every waking thought. At Midsummers, when you left? All I wanted to do was grab you, pin you against the wall and kiss you until you forgave me for every single thing I'd ever said to you. I want to know what your lipgloss tastes like, I want to know what your skin against mine would feel like, I want to be the one to make you smile, not make you angry anymore, because I don't hate you, I want you more than anything I've wanted in a long fucking time."
Your chin wobbled and it was all you could manage to take a shaky breath as you searched his eyes. He took a cautious step towards you, closing the distance between you, searching your eyes as his hand came to cup your face, the touch warm and familiar as he waited for your response.
"You are i-infuriating, JJ Maybank, you know that, right?" you said shakily, repeating your words from Midsummers as you shoved him lightly in his chest. He caught your hands, holding them against his heart.
"Yes" he said, his voice a low whisper.
His eyes were burning into you, but despite what you'd said, he pulled you flush against him. He ran his thumb against your bottom lip, gently pulling at it, his callouses tickling you. Your shared pent up anger and frustration hummed, a vibration around you like standing next to speakers at a concert.
In a moment he dipped his head and caught your lips with his own, soft and plush. He wasted no time pushing his tongue into your mouth and you couldn't suppress the moan you let out at the overwhelming relief you felt at finally knowing where you stood with him, and the taste of his lips on yours, like beer and lime. His one hand held your face firmly against his and the other wound against your waist, his fingers pressing into your warm skin enough to make you jump.
"M'Sorry" he mumbled.
But you shook your head, urgent now, as you cupped his cheeks, holding his face against your own, pulling him down to you and letting him steal your breath again and again and again.
Your hands pulled at him like you couldn't get enough, fisting in his shirt before winding around his neck as you pressed yourself against him and he groaned, his fingers dancing under the hem of your dress.
"JJ" you said, breathless.
He'd lost count of the number of times he'd heard his name on your lips, shouting it, yelling it, timid, but never like this, a plea, a beg, a question he was more than happy to answer. He could see your cheeks flush even in the moonlight, the way your lips were swollen and the smear of your lipgloss that he could taste on his lips and his tongue, like strawberries, more delicious than anything he'd imagined and he knew he'd crave it every single day for the rest of his life.
His eyes flitted back and forth between yours, desperately trying not to misread the situation and what he thought he saw there based on what he wanted to see there.
You were blinking up at him before the tip of your tongue ran over your bottom lip before you bit it.
"D'you think maybe we could get out of here?"
Sarah walked through a tangle of people, dodging between them as she searched in vain for you before coming back to John B.
"Hey, have you seen YN?"
"No" he said, "I've been looking for JJ."
They caught each other's eye and she smirked, the grin on her face growing. "You don't think..."
"Absolutely not. No."
It was well past midnight before they got home, shuffling into the darkness of the chateau.
John B tossed his keys aside when he saw the dim light coming from JJ's room and moved to push the door open, ready to tear into his friend for leaving the bonfire without him.
The accusation was on the tip of his tongue before he caught sight of the two of you passed out together: you in JJ's oversized sweatshirt, him with his arms wound around you like he was holding a teddy bear, a soft smile on both of your lips.
He felt Sarah's warmth beside him and looked down at her, the same wicked grin on her face from earlier as she glanced up at him.
summary — You met JJ Maybank at a party while you were drunk. You accidentally gave him your number. He just thought you were another annoying kook until he started talking with you. What you didn’t know was that JJ Maybank was persistent in getting things he wanted.
reader moodboard
jj maybank moodboard
𝒞HAPTERS
instagrams | rocky start. | looking good 4 the gram. | afraid of the sea. | sneak out 4 me? | surfer boy | ????
fluffy beach day kinda thing but jj likes to call reader ma and then he gets REALLLYYYY sunburnt wnd spends the rest of the week complaining and making reader take care of him
Consequences of your actions
Pairings: boyfriend!JJ Maybank x girlfriend!Reader
Request! - blurb: JJ and the reader had decided to have a beach day since both of them didn’t have to work. JJ, being the stubborn person he is, refused to wear sunscreen. Insisting that he won’t get sunburnt. Newsflash; he does. So he makes reader play nurse for the rest of the week.
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JJ Maybank always had to do things the hard way.
Never made things easier for himself. When he had one thought, it was only that one. Nothing else stood out.
Even when he was a kid. Though it always annoyed John B, which only made JJ do it more.
Once he started dating you, it annoyed you at first. But then you just got used to it, much to his pleasure.
All week JJ had been hounding you to go to the beach with him, always saying how it was peak surfing time.
Eventually he wore you down enough to where you caved after the twelfth attempt of hearing the constant, “c’mon ma, let’s go. It’s literally peak time. I’ll wash away without ya.”
So in the present moment when you tried to apply sunscreen to his skin, after he had already decided not to wear it, he immediately dodged your hand.
“No, nope, ma. Don’t need that greasy shit.”
JJ grins, moving away from your hand again as you try to apply it to his back.
You huff softly, stopping from trying to put it on him for a second. “JJ, you’ll get a sunburn. Trust me, they’re not fun. They hurt like a bitch.”
JJ rolls his eyes playfully, “Oh please. I don’t burn ma. Never have.” That cocky grin on his stupidly handsome face as he looks at you.
You put your hands up in acceptance, shrugging your shoulders. “Hey, your choice. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so when it bites you in the ass.”
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Hours later when you both had gotten back to the chateau after a long hot summer day of surfing, both of you headed to the guest room JJ deemed ‘his’, and swiftly passed out on the bed exhausted.
It was evening by the time you roused from sleep. Blearily looking around the room, taking in the sun setting.
You glance around tiredly, rubbing your eyes before you zero in on something. Or someone.
JJ’s bare back facing you, beat red and looking very agitated.
You gently place your hand on his back, causing a hiss to escape JJ.
“The fuck—?” JJ murmurs sleepily, shifting around in the bed to face you. A grumpy expression on his also sunburnt face. Oh shit you thought.
“Why are you prodding me?” He grumbles, burying his face into the pillow.
“JJ.”
“Mhm.” He barely registers your tone.
“J, you’re sunburnt.” You press gently on his shoulder.
JJ practically yelped, “Ow! Don’t do that ma.”
“Look at yourself JJ, you’re pretty much beat red.”
“Fuck. Hurts like a bitch.”
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It had only been a couple days and JJ had been milking this as much as he could. Making you play nurse, taking care of him when he whined like a kicked puppy.
You felt bad, but at the same time you made damn sure to rub it in of the fact that you told him so.
He had been trying to peel his skin, but you had to lightly slap his hand away and apply aloe vera so it could take some of the heat away from his skin.
“Maaa,” JJ drags the nickname on. Another day of hearing him complain about how uncomfortable he is. “Mama I need ya’.”
You roll your eyes playfully as you glance at Kiara, who was in the kitchen with you.
“Have fun.” Kiara teases you, watching as you disappear from the kitchen.
You walk into the bedroom, taking in the sight in front of you. JJ sprawled out on your shared bed, lying just in his boxers. Looking very miserable for his own sake.
He opens his eyes as he heard your footsteps, a miserable smile gracing his lips.
“Heyy ma.. Can I have some water? And maybe your special massages with that aloe shit?” He practically gave you puppy dog eyes.
You huff softly, but there’s no annoyance behind it. “Yes I guess I can since you’re feeling so shitty.”
You left the bedroom to quickly go back to the kitchen to get some water.
This had been going on for the past couple days. You were glad JJ was actually drinking the water, not wanting him to become dehydrated.
You had also been putting aloe Vera lotion all over him, even though he hated it every time.
Once you finally reached the kitchen you pulled out a cold water bottle from the fridge. Then you made your way back to the bedroom where JJ was laying in the same spot.
You hand him the water bottle as you sit on the bed, and then grab the aloe Vera bottle.
“Okay, you know how it goes.” You warn him as you squirt some of it on your hand.
JJ groans softly, but rolls onto his stomach so you can apply it to the expanse of his back.
“Lay it on me ma. I can handle it.” He says cockily.
You raise your eyebrows, putting your hand on his back without warning.
JJ immediately hisses in pain, his body jerking away from your touch. “Ow!”
You snorted softly. “You said, ‘I can handle it.’ Just thought I’d see if you were lying.”
“Mm never mind. Be gentle ma. It hurts.” JJ practically pouted.
“You are really acting like a baby.” You laughed, gently applying it over the skin on his back and shoulders.
“It’s hurts,” JJ all but whined, “I feel like I’m dying.”
“You’ll live, my love.”
“Mm, keep massaging please.” He mumbles, feeling tired all the sudden.
“I will.”
This carried on for the rest of the week. You taking care of him, nursing him back to health. Him whining to you about being in pain.
But he did like to brag about his wicked tan now, making it a competition with John b and pope.
Although he didn’t voice his feelings well, JJ was grateful for you. Making sure he was hydrated, and rubbed aloe Vera on his burns when they hurt.
You are his rock, and he’ll never take that for granted.
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Authors note: first request complete! I hope you enjoy this! It was really fun to write :)
⋆˚꩜｡ summary : based on this req 🫶🫶 !! ꒰ wc .ᐟ 1.7k ꒱
⋆˚꩜｡ warnings : mentions of weed n guns, but otherwise very cute.
“doll?” jj calls out, huffing as he places down the set of keys john b had given him after concluding there were no cons in finally giving him the thing — aided by how sick he was of opening the door to the blonde — and a bag presumably full of weed, his gun, and money after what he calls business.
hm, weird, you haven’t answered; you always answer.
the boy waits a few more beats, running his hands through his hair and and groaning at the exhaustion finally taking over his bruised face at the late hour — the customer had gotten slightly randy, or at least that’s what he’s going to tell you. and yet, still no response.
“prettygirl?” he calls out again, lazily pulling out his phone to check for any new messages you could’ve sent since the last time you’d texted.
YOU :
i’m going to the chateau rn !!
probably gonna take a shower and eat smth rq
im soooo tireddddd ☹️☹️☹️
JAYJ 🧸🍃🫶 :
Aight js take care of urself
Left an extra blunt on ur bedside table if u want it btw
YOU :
tyy 🫶
JAYJ 🧸🍃🫶 :
All good
YOU :
when u coming home ?
JAYJ 🧸🍃🫶 :
Real soon dw
Take ur shower
Make some food
Js gotta finish this thing w barry n a client
YOU :
okkk come home soon tho i miss u 🫶
[ JAYJ 🧸🍃🫶 reacted with a ❤️. ]
nothing. double weird. could you have had left the chateau? no, you would’ve told him before.
his brows knit together at his growing concern, his eyes darting around the corridor as he begins to check for his girl. he opens the door to the guest bedroom — it’s essentially your shared room by now, given how often you occupy it — but to no avail. a gentle, sort of disapproving “hm,” escapes past his bitten lips.
his boots thump against the old, worn wood as he traipses down to the bathroom, knocking once before he enters — the soft pitter patter of the shower coming familiar to him, making the dealer cautious in not accidentally walking in on kie again. “princessssss—“
“oh shit,” he freezes at the sight of your body tucked in on itself in the shower, a stream of water cascading down your hair and skin, leaving droplets lacing over your closed lids and dampened hair. particularly from his view, you looked half between life and death.
the scene surges the blonde forward, his knees hitting the stone of the ground as his calloused digits rapidly move to shut off the flowing water before the water could dampen or splatter against his own weed-scented shirt; his hand fumbles with the valve, his other trembling slightly as it drifts to cup at your cheek. “fuck fuck fuck.”
being a drug dealer, his mind always jumps to ‘danger danger danger !!’ — totally fair, given the sheer amount of times the blonde has gotten revenge inflicted upon him for the dumbest of shit he wasn’t even apart of. but if anyone had dared to touch you?
jj would undoubtedly vow that the person wouldn’t make it out alive.
“you hurt? did someone hurtcha? fuck, did that coked up fucker rafe make a pitstop or some shit?” the boy mutters, gruffly angling your face, arms, thighs out of the way so he could check your moistened body — and still naked, mind — before he raises his eyeline back to the sliver of your own.
your brows furrow, conscience still miles away from your sleep addled mind, your brain having been restarted at the unexpected sting of cold; the stream from the short above you had been so solacing, so calming, so enticing to the exhaustion still clouding your head. why’d the blurry view of blonde curls and bright blue eyes have to shut off that solace and calm with no warning??
“hm? what n-no,” you yawn, stirring at the lack of warm water soothing you with a layer of heat, like a blanket of comfort. you feel the calloused pads of his digits move up to tuck a drenched thread of hair behind your ear as you continue to mumble: “i sat down t’do somethin’ then i jus’ sorta … sorta fell asleep.”
“thank fuck,” he groans, lolling his head to the side in lighthearted embarrassment — how dare he let his nonchalant demeanour slip, for something so trivial as well. then he regains his jj-like energy, smiling gently down at you and prompting: “c’mere cupcake.”
“jayjjj ‘m cold!! ‘n’ wet,” you protest — more like whine — still pissy about the sudden removal of the blanket; there was really no need to completely turn it off, leaving you vulnerable to the cold of the air, however humid it may be.
“hm. that’s what she said—“ the blonde starts, allowing his lips to curl back into their trademarked smirk before getting cut off by another whine of sleepy complaint, chuckling slightly to himself as he proceeds to lift himself back up: “my bad, my bad. lemmie getcha a towel dollface, that good?”
he takes a step out from where you’re still half conscious, roughly yanking your assigned towel off of the hanging rack and quickly returning to your side. only naturally, he adds a “hereee y’go,” while aiding you in wrapping the material over your form, helping soak up the driplets still scattered across your skin.
“thank you.”
“no worries. wrap that ‘round yourself, ‘n’ now f’real, c’mere. where’d you put y’clothes? i can get ‘em f’you, yeah?”
you hum as the blonde haphazardly sticks your arm through one of his shirts — you’ve essentially claimed it as your own by now — and slips your legs through your sleep shorts, waisting no time in getting you physically as comfortable as you can be. before you know it, your favourite set of athletic arms are picking you up bridal style, pressing your cheek and heavy lidded eyes against his chest; he’s bringing you somewhere you can properly fall asleep, instead of the center of the shower.
“fuck, don’t do that shit again. the sorta, y’know lookin’ like you’re dead in the shower. i get it ain’t what you were aiming’ for, but that kinda thing bugs me out, dollface,” he confesses, kissing your temple once in a small act of affection.
“ima take y’out to the hammocks, aight? gonna smoke a blunt but you can fall asleep, sound good?”
he’s already traipsing down the corridor which he’d initially come down to locate his girl, this time not waiting for answer as your own arms move to link at the back of his neck, easing yourself into his grip easier. his palms press against your side, warming the patches of skin with the kind of care and attention the dealer only really manages to muster with you.
“d’you think you’re gonna remember any of this shit by the mornin’?”
“nuhuh.”
genuinely, you’re too tired to so much as think; you allow the trusted blonde to carry you out past the dim lighting of the living room — he pauses for a moment, ensuing the light’s off before continuing past the entrance — and by the fairy-lights kie had put up, littering the branches of the trees.
“right,” he murmurs.
“you’re perfect, y’know that? like when you’re ’bout two seconds away from fallin’ asleep, post-half-assed shower,” he smirks, pressing a light peppering of kisses across your forehead, jostling you slightly as he steps down the front steps of the porch. “actually perfect.”
“ima set you down ‘kay?” he says, waiting for the little “mhm,” that you hum before he’s angling your body and lowering you down as if you’re something fragile. he lets you stretch out like a cat against the twine, before joining you and shimmying himself under — he always pretends to hate how you practically use his chest as a pillow; in reality, he think’s it’s one of the most endearing habits of yours.
a wind passes by where you’re entangled with jj, nipping gently at your freshly washed skin and causing a light shiver to pull you closer to his warmth. the guy is far from complaining, wrapping one of his muscular arms around your waist and easing you by his side, taking the brief moment to pull out a blunt — which he places on the dip of the hammock — and his trademarked lighter, doing what he does best: sparking the end of the joint now placed comfortably between his lips, and sucking in the sheer cloud of smoke, carefully angling the end of the roll to ensure the oranged end not to touch and burn your hair.
“didja eat? what d’you have?” he asks, tapping his hand against your ass to ensure you’re awake and properly able to answer; it seems unnecessary, but the blonde’s aware of your mannerisms and occasional lack of attention around food.
“mmm, leftovers.”
“hm,” he grunts, seemingly slightly unsatisfied with the answer, but justifying the action with a groggy, “well at least you ate i ‘spose.”
you snuggle into his chest, relaxing against his weed-smothered shit and revelling in the warmth eminating from his body and hand still squeezing against the fat of your ass. another gentle breeze flutters by, fluttering jj’s strands of golden locks and prickling against your cheeks in a manner more saccharine then malicious.
“thanks for not being, y’know … weird ‘bout me being sorta naked,” you drowsily murmur into the fabric covering the dealer’s front, hooking your leg over his and seeping into the most comfortable position.
“ ‘s nothin’. y’know i ain’t weird like that, anyways,” he replies softly, taking another drag from the joint, continuing to stare up between the branches of the tree above you both, gazing at the small bright lights plastering illuminating his pretty features.
he always takes such good care of you. whether or not you’re his official girlfriend — you always will be regardless of the label — he takes such good care.
“good night, jj.”
“g’night, dollface.”
ᯓ★ a / n : no internet is killing me ☹️☹️. i got some connection at a denner ( a local store lols ) n i speed messaged my bsfs n posted the ski!reader x surfer!jj thing, but i literally cldnt do more. anyways, ty for the req ml 🫶🫶.
Summary: JJ protects you from a drunk kook at a party
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, violence
Word count: 1,593
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Say what you want about Kooks but they knew how to throw a good party. Or at least could afford to.
The music thumped through the backyard of the unnecessarily large house, colored lights flashing off of the pool that changed colors every two seconds while people danced and shouted over each other. You stuck close to your friends. John B was leaning against a tree with a beer, Sarah tucked under his arm, Pope was laughing at something Kiara said, JJ ran off to get drinks for the two of you. You spotted another one of your friends in the crowd and slipped away to say hello.
Unfortunately a tall brunette Kook boy that you knew from school kept that from happening. He staggered up to you, eyes glassy, shirt half unbuttoned and words slurred.
"Hey, Y/N, long time no see."
JJ wove through the crowd with two beers in hand, weaving around drunk Kooks and wobbling lawn chairs. He was smirking to himself, ready to toss you a stupid line about how long it took him to snag the drinks—until he saw you.
Some guy was leaning in towards you, grinning like he had a chance, and you… you were smiling politely, listening.
JJ’s stomach dropped.
It was a weird, sharp kind of panic, one he didn’t feel often. He’d always thought you were out of his league—always—but you’d never been anyone else’s either. You were just his best friend. His 'partner in crime' as you liked to say. And suddenly, standing there with that guy looking at you like that, JJ realized this could be it. It could be the moment that you finally found somebody, the moment he had to watch you laugh at someone else’s jokes, lean into someone else’s arms.
He swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the beer cans. He’d never had to picture you with a boyfriend before. Never had to see it right in front of him. And now his chest ached like he’d just swallowed glass.
Then he saw your face slowly change, your patience fading. He could only what imagine Mr. Daddy's Money was saying to you.
“You’re way too pretty to be hanging out with… them,” he sneered, gesturing vaguely toward your friends. "Other than Sarah," he held his hands up, "She's kind of in the same predicament as you."
You tilted your head at him, slightly amused at his audacity.
He looked you up and down. "Think you belong upstairs with me. Come on, I’ll show you a real good time.”
He reached a hand at you and you took a step back, shaking your head. “Nope, I'm good on that. Have the night you deserve, asshole,” you turned to walk back towards your friends.
He began to follow you. “Oo I kind of love a girl with an attitude, turns me on." His hand clamped around your arm. "C’mon, babygirl, don’t play hard to get.”
Something in you snapped. You yanked your arm free, voice sharp. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
The smirk dropped. His face twisted, and he spat, “Fuck is wrong with you? Stupid pogue bitch.”
Before you could react, a blur of blond hair stormed into your vision. JJ's fist connected with the guy’s jaw so hard it could be heard over the music.
People gasped and backed away, the music still pounding as the Kook went sprawling, and JJ was on him again before anyone could blink, pounding his fist into his face over and over. “You think you can put your hands on her?” JJ’s voice broke into a yell, breathless with rage. “You think that’s funny?!”
"Pretty funny," he shouted back, trying to sound tough and unaffected but failing. The Kook fought back weakly, landing one successful swing at the blond's cheek, but JJ barely flinched.
And suddenly they were on the ground— or the Kook boy was, with JJ on top of him, unable to stop beating the absolute living shit out of him.
You saw two boys that you recognized as friends of the one that JJ had pinned on the ground sprinting across the room.
"JJ, stop, come on!" you yelled, knowing that this wasn't going to end well for him.
“Get off him!” one shouted, ripping JJ off the boy and shoving him in the chest.
JJ barely had time to brace before the other one swung, his fist connecting hard with JJ’s ribs. He grunted, stumbling back.
“Oh, you wanna go too?!” JJ shouted, lunging at them both. He tackled one to the ground, fists flying, but the second Kook kicked him in the side, knocking the wind out of him.
“JJ!” you screamed, trying to push through the circle that was forming around them.
One Kook pinned JJ’s arms from behind while the other landed a blow across his face. Blood sprayed from JJ’s lip, but he thrashed violently, breaking free just long enough to nail the guy with a punch that sent him sprawling into the grass.
The two Kooks came at him again, fists flying, and for a moment JJ disappeared in the chaos of it—hits landing on his face, his ribs, his back. He fought like hell anyway, throwing wild, reckless punches, refusing to go down.
“JJ, stop!” Pope and John B finally shoved through the crowd, grabbing at his arms, trying to drag him away. But JJ was still swinging, teeth bared, blood running down his chin.
It took both John B and Pope holding him back, muscles straining, to finally rip him out of the fight. The Kooks, bruised and bleeding themselves, stumbled back with their friends.
JJ struggled against their grip, teeth clenched.
"You Kooks think you can have anything you want," he shouted. "Well you can't! Learn to keep your dicks in your pants!"
The first boy stumbled to his feet, bloody-mouthed, shouting something you didn’t care to hear.
"And you, you touch her again and I'll fucking kill you!"
The boys continued to drag their friend away.
“Let’s go!” Sarah hissed, tugging you and Kiara towards the twinkie.
You left the chaos behind, heart hammering. JJ looked at you, wiping the blood from his chin, the rage in his eyes fading slightly and his lips curling up in a smirk. A small, pained smile spread across your face as you turned away from him.
Back at the Chateau, the adrenaline was gone, replaced with quiet except for the cicadas outside and the crash of waves in the distance. Everyone had gone inside, shaken and worn out.
You stayed on the porch with JJ. He sat slumped in one of the old rocking chairs, his shirt half torn, knuckles split, blood drying under his nose. One eye was already swelling shut, a bruise blooming across his ribs where you’d seen that Kook’s boot land.
“Jesus, JJ…” you whispered, crouching down in front of him with the first aid kit. “You look like you got hit by a truck.”
He laughed, wincing when it tugged at his lip. “Felt like it too. But I gave ’em hell, didn’t I?”
You smiled at his comment and then puckered it away, not wanting to condone his actions. You couldn't believe that somebody felt proud that they'd gone through all this just for you. And the fact that that somebody was the boy that you'd had a crush on for years. You didn't dare act on it though, the fear of losing him as a friend slightly stronger than your romantic feelings. And those were pretty strong.
You dipped a cloth in peroxide and pressed it to his split lip. He hissed but didn’t pull away, keeping his tired eyes trained on your face.
“You’re insane,” you muttered, though your touch was gentle. “Three guys, JJ. You can’t take on three Kooks by yourself.”
“I’d take on thirty if it meant keeping him from putting his hands on you.” His voice was hoarse but steady, his eyes blazing even through the swelling. “Ain’t nobody gonna touch my girl like that.”
The words landed heavier than any punch. Your hand stilled against his jaw, eyes lifting to his. “Your girl?”
JJ’s smirk was small, bloody, but sure. “Yeah. Mine.” The corner of his mouth quirked, almost like he regretted letting it slip. “You heard me.”
Heat coiled in your chest, even though you tried to fight it. You should’ve teased him, should’ve laughed it off—but the way he said it made your pulse stutter.
“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered with a smile, lightly brushing a thumb across his cheek.
And then there wasn’t space between you anymore. His lips brushed yours, testing, before you leaned in and kissed him fully, your hands gripping his shirt. He tasted like salt and blood and everything you’d been trying not to want for too long.
The kiss began to get deep but stopped before it could as JJ hissed and pulled back, putting his fingers to his lip and then dropping them down. "Sorry," he laughed.
"No, I'm sorry," you giggled. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing that until your lip heals."
A triumphant smile spread across his bruised and beaten face. "So that's gonna happen more?"
You nodded and couldn't help the blush that krept to you cheeks. "You said I'm your girl, so I guess I'm your girl."
He'd never looked happier. "Yeah, because you are, always have been."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop smiling. “Shut up and let me finish patching you up.”
JJ just grinned, leaning in to steal another kiss before you could protest.
it was another day at the beach with the pogues—the sun shining just right as the sound of waves crashing fill the background—giving you this familiar comfort and warmth deep in your chest. you were just setting up your spot with the help of kie and sarah when you see jj already making his way towards the water.
"jayj, baby, did you put your sunscreen on yet?" you called out as you set the picnic basket down onto the blanket. he stopped in his track, but didn't turn towards you like he would usually do. most days, it would be so easy for him to listen to you, but he's in a mood today. "jayj?"
he huff to himself as he stomped his foot, thinking that you didn't notice—well, he thought wrong because you definitely saw everything from the annoyed expression on his face to the way he's now mocking you with the way his lips are moving.
"you did not just stomped your foot at me," you stood with your hands on your hips now. just from the way you sounded made him turn so fast he almost tripped on his own foot.
"no, i didn't!" scared was an understatement of what he's feeling right now as he nearly went down on his knees in front of you. he can see that both kie and sarah is now trying not to laugh at him as they stood not so far away from behind you.
"down. now." you crossed your arms against your chest, and he's already on his knees before positioning himself in a push-up position. "do that while you think about what you did."
you were sitting with the others now—you can hear him counting in the background—when he's finally done, making his way towards you. "all done," as he dusts off the sand on his hands, smiling at you now—showing his dimples that you love so much, just not at this moment.
"now, put your damn sunscreen on." you threw the bottle at him, making him catch it—the sudden gesture surprising him, making him almost failing at the attempt. he looked at you with a confused look, and had the audacity to ask, "by myself?"
"well, if you didn't act like a fucking brat then maybe i would've helped you, don't you think?" you rolled your eyes at him, going back into the conversation you're having with the girls. you can see from the corner of your eyes how he's struggling to apply the sunscreen—even asking pope to help him—before he can finally go surfing.
when it's late enough, you're already making your way towards the twinkie with the others—carrying a few things in your hands by yourself. you haven't talked to jj after what had happened between the two of you, even refusing his help when he tried to take the basket from your hand.
he went into the twinkie, looking at you as you place the things at the back—still not looking at him—before getting in yourself. the seats were full, resulting in you needing to sit in his lap. it wasn't something foreign since it has been that way from the start, but you're so annoyed at him at the moment—almost making the decision to even sit on kie's lap instead.
his arms were quick to be wrapped around you as you sit, but you didn't melt into him like you would always do. you sat stiffly—like a cat that truly hates affection—staying quiet as they all get into a conversation. he had his chin on your shoulder, even nuzzling his face against yours as you kiss your teeth to show how annoyed you are.
"i'm sorry, okay? didn't mean to be an ass," he whispered, leaving kisses on your cheek as you wipe them off—only for him to add more—making you let out a laugh you had been holding. "there it is. my sweet girl is back," as he wraps his arms tighter around you.
back at the chateau, he went straight to the couch, dropping himself against the cushions with a groan. he was just about to let himself take a nap, but your voice calling out for him interrupted, "jayj, can you help me out with this for a sec?"
he forced himself to sit up, throwing his head back to show how "agitated" he is before running a hand over his face. "you better go now before—" pope's voice came like a warning towards him, but he quickly cuts him off.
"yeah, yeah, shut up." he was just about to get up with a roll of his eyes when you come in from the porch—stopping in your tracks when you saw him rolling his eyes. that's when he knew he fucked up—it's not like he did it towards you, but his bad timing is just so good at playing a game on him.
"oh, so now you're rolling your eyes at me calling out for you to ask for help?" pope sat there with a hand covering his face—obviously holding in his laugh upon seeing jj's face dropping. "no, baby, it's not like that!" he didn't even get the chance to explain as you gesture towards him to get down.
he didn't complain, already counting out loud as you went back outside—clearly not needing his help anymore. "see. i already told you," pope calls out—enjoying himself too much.
"9, 10—shut up, pope—wait, i forgot my count. fuck!" he restarted again, making pope laugh even more—not even bothering to tell him what number he was on just for the entertainment.
you heard everything from the outside, holding in your own laughter as you continue fixing the thing you needed his help with. "you're enjoying this," kie had called out from her spot in front of you with a smile on her face.
"of course, i am. he needs to know the consequences to his own action sometimes." the both of you are giggling now, knowing that you're right. seeing how jj is like—stubborn and impulsively reckless—it just reminded you how you're the only person he listens to, and you're taking full advantage of it.
masterlist
a/n: my first time writing for jj! and i'm trying out a different posting style this time hehe
⋆˚꩜｡ summary : when you get dared to sit on someone’s lap for the rest of truth or dare, you choose to sit on jj’s. ꒰ wc .ᐟ 1.4k.꒱
⋆˚꩜｡ warnings : mentions of alcohol, sorta pervy!jj, slightestttt bit of public groping ( ?? ).
“hmmm …” sarah scans her eyes cross the pogues situated in and around the cat’s ass, picking out her next victim for the dumb little game you’ve been playing all night — remind me, why did we let jj name the hot tub again? she’s got a particular look plastered on her face that comes across more like a predator hunting its prey then anything else, with her eyes twinkling with the kind of mischief that’s making your toes curl; she’s searching for her next victim. and of course her gaze has to halt on you. your instantly shaking your head in protest, and muttering half slurred objections: “no. mhm, no. i’m refusing— this is me refusing to participate in whatever your scheming.”
“c’mon, don’t be boring; truth or dare! truth or dareeee??” she teases, laughing at how on edge you seem just from the question alone. hey, it’s not your fault! with some of the things your best friends have dared and truthed by your other best friends, it’s no wonder you were relishing in the momentary peace you found yourself in.
well, it was fun while it lasted.
“you’ve had too much to drink; you’re gonna make me do something like— batshit crazy.” hoping you’re maybeee going to be backed up, you squeak, looking around the tub for help from kie, pope possibly? alas, your efforts are wasted; everyone around you is either laughing, or insisting you “don’t be boring!” while taking another large sip from their beer.
“yeah, she’s right, plus the rest of us had to do ‘em,” john b snickers from his spot close to you on the side of the hot tub, slapping at your shoulder playfully and wiggling his eyebrows. that’s when jj chimes in; from his place opposite the blonde tilts his sunglasses down and off his face in such an exaggerated manner, with his lip curling upwards as he joins, “c’monnn princess! ‘s not gonna kill you, don’t be a sourpuss.”
“a sourpuss?” you question, quirking a eyebrow up in lighthearted confusion.
“yeah, c’mon, don’t be a pussy. like a— a skittish lil’ kitty cat. y’know what i mean,” he winks over at you, grinning so wide it’s a miracle his face doesn’t split in two.
“fine,” you hum, taking a quick swig of the canned liquid courage you’d perched above the hot tubs side, feeling it slide down and burn at your throat a little. a swift glare’s shot across to the boy who’s got blonde strands of sun-bleached hair falling in front of his eyes, before you turn to sarah and prompting: “hit me with a dare.”
the look of pure horror mixed with ‘oh shit, what have i done to myself’ that slips comfortably on your face is comical — all of the pogues wish they had one of john b’s crappy cameras there to capture it — and your trepidation is only made worse by sarah’s lilting, “oooh, i like dares.”
the build up is excruciating. you try to seem all laid back and nonchalant — arms draping around the sides of the tub like jj’s, taking a hand through your hair, maybe even kissing your teeth lightly to show how impatient you’re getting — when in reality the wait is almost torture. the blonde girl really drags it out too, using a polished hand to wave kie over, and whisper in her ear once she scampers to sarah’s side. what’s worse is they giggle! they even glance at you, while token nervously trying to play everything off, but the small furrow in your brow and the repeated sips at your beer makes it sooo obvious it’s fake.
“i dare you to … sit on who you think is the fittest person’s lap.”
“… truth,” you mutter, trying to go back on your now obviously very rash decision. if the pogues wanted to take a picture before, they definitely wanna take one now as well; your expression from earlier is nothing compared to your blown-wide eyes, and slightly agape lips that formed at the challange. sorry, but this isn’t just a dare anymore. this is a low level humiliation ritual.
“nuhuhhhh, can’t back away now,” the blonde haired girl taunts, leaning slightly closer to you in the water, giggling madly when kie adds onto the dare: “gotta do it for the next ten roundssss!” you hiss, flickering your gaze between the girls who are ment to be your best friends — absolute traitors — gaining a squeaky “kiara—?!” shot across to them.
“we’re not gonna be playing in the next ten rounds; ‘s gonna be ‘til the end of the game! that’s not what i should be focusing on — sarah what the hell!! kie why’re you piling on? do y’all hate me or something—?” you whine, trying to maybe get the apparent punishment toned down a little. naturally, it doesn’t work: “you gotta do it, c’monnnn!”
“i hate you all. jb, pope, you’re included.”
and that’s when you turn to jj. you can’t lie, he’s annoyingly hot. with the way he’s relaxing back against the cool metal warmed by the water jets, lights dancing across his droplet stained chest, it’s hard not to think he is. the waters leaving streaks down from where it’s splashed onto his neck and biceps, and lapping at his tanned skin in a way that’s so delicious it shouldn’t be legal. not to mention his absolute jj-ness: bright eyes, dumb smirk, and a charm that you can’t help but feel your insides squirm at — the latter which he always turns up around you. let’s be honest, anyone who doesn’t think he’s hot is just wrong.
you sigh, taking the final sip from your beer before standing up, and letting the warm water sliding down your body from where it had originally swallowed your form. jj’s brows dart up, clocking what’s going on instantly — while simultaneously moving his gaze shamelessly across and over your curves, smiling at himself more then anything else. does he realise his tongues darting out, leaving a small listen behind as he eyes you? gross, dude.
“oh wassup, princess? yeahh, just like that; get real comfy on papa j’s lap,” his hands place themselves around your hips as you sit yourself on jj, rolling your eyes as he asks, “so how’s life treatin’ you? ‘m imaginin’ damn good since your sittin’ on the lap of the fittest person y’know—” you cut him off, trying to situate yourself while the girls giggle manically: “don’t say a thing of i swear i’m going to throw the rest of your beer into the marsh.”
“you wouldn’t dare t’do that, prettygirl,” he says almost matter of factly, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest and your ass against his crotch. you try to resist — well, not really — feeling a warmth creep up your neck; that’s just the beer, right? “why would i not?”
“ ‘cuz i’m the person y’think ’s the hottest, remember? ‘n’ you chose to place your pretty lil’ ass on me. y’smell awesome, by the way; am i gettin’ hints of coconut?” the blonde boy hums, nestling his face into the crook of your neck; the strands of his hair brush against your skin, at the same time that his nose skims across the shell of your ear. his sunglasses are long forgotten. oh, and you’ll never guess what his hands are doing.
“my shampoo— jj!” you whine, driving your own hand down to latch onto his wrist: a feeble attempt to stop the pads of his fingers, and the callouses over his palm from pressing into your tits and thighs. obviously, because we're talking about jj here, he slips past your grip, squeezing at you and your body like he's in his own personal heaven.
“what? jus’ appreciatin’ your beauty mama, can’t blame me,” he hums, palming softly at the thin fabric of your bikini though the lapping of the hot tub's water. it feels excruciatingly good, having him pressing at your flesh, and you try everything to stop yourself from puddling, even a quietly yelped: “jj maybank!”
“no wayyy! dude, y'just got full named!” john gasps dramatically, joining in on the girls' laughter. the blonde boy doesn't care — to be fair, when does he? not with how intoxicating you smell, how you're becoming putty, and how electric you feel under his touch.
the game does in fact last for longer then ten rounds. thing is, you don’t get off of one of your best friend’s lap, even after fifteen rounds. no one says anything — although sarah does keep shooting john b looks while you’re not looking — even after close to twenty rounds. they don’t point out how you’re starting to melt against the blonde who’s still palming not-so-silently at your skin under the water.
ᯓ★ a / n : i’m soo close to 200 followers 🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹 i physically can’t put into words how grateful i am, each one of u mean the world to meeeee 🤍🤍🤍
no bc i wanna be those idiots in love with jj so bad!!! like sarah started bringing you around , and suddenly you and jj are on the track to being boyfriend girlfriend. i can just imagine being at a party , drunk enough to be having fun but not too drunk to get sick. the weather’s perfect and jj looks so good.
and even though you aren’t together , you can’t help but wobble your way over to him and the boys with a grin on your face. “here comes trouble , jj,” john b smiled , nudging the blonde to get his attention away from pope.
“y/n/n…” jj greeted you , patting his lap, “what can i do for ya , mama?” he asked , hands finding your body immediately as you planted yourself on his lap swinging your arms over his shoulders.
you giggled , leaning into the crook of his neck. “wanna go makeout?” you mumbled , hiding your face from the boys. you knew everyone knew what you and jj got up to , but it was still nice to try and keep the mystery alive.
jj stood , grabbing you so you wouldn’t fall. “alright , boys. big daddy’s callin’ it a night. see y’all in the morning!” he announced , sending his friends a short salute before rushing off to your car. he had you in his grip , pulling you so fast your feet were barely on the sand as you laughed uncontrollably.
“slow down!” you whined , trying to keep up.
“oh , no , no , no. you wanted me,” jj reminded you , stopping to look at you in the face, “now y’got me , so let’s go.” he kissed you quickly before fixing you into the passenger seat and speeding off to your house.
It all started in season 1... only got worse with season 2.... Thank you Netflix for OBX, because I have yet another white boy to obsess over. Here is a collection of works I have come across while going down the rabbit hole that is JJ Maybank. Enjoy!
If you would like your list of works posted here or have a recommendation, please let me know!
To all the writers mentioned, if you would like your list of works removed at any time, please let me know!
updated september 9, 2021
JJ Maybank
@planeswithpaperwings | masterlist
@pogueszn | masterlist
@xreaderbooks | Paradise on Earth masterlist
@hellimagines | masterlist
@cognacdelights | masterlist
@lunarliza | masterlist
@pogueslandia | masterlist
p4nkow > @st4rk3y | masterlist
@thatshithurted8 | masterlist
@obx-snippets | masterlist
@perpetualoverthinker | masterlist
@mentalpolaroids | masterlist
@jessmaybank | masterlist
@mydogisveryadorbs | masterlist
@pogue-summer | masterlist
@collecting-stories | masterlist
@ptersparkers | masterlist
@mayraki | masterlist
@msgorillagripcoochie | masterlist
@outrbanks | masterlist
@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo | masterlist
Rudy Pankow
@poguesrforlife | Young and Beautiful masterlist
Please make sure to show these writers some love and appreciation!! 💕
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
titsay
snowghoul
germansingergirl
origamiaround
gummygunk
