Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
“You're worth something. Unlike him.” ENDING IT ALL RN IM DYING
Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-
JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3
nav. | m.list
a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.
pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader
wc: 1.3k
— 🤍 —
"What are you doing here?"
JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.
"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.
"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."
JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.
Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.
But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.
He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.
Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.
"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.
Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.
"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.
"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"
"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.
Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.
JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.
"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.
"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.
"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"
"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."
Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.
"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."
You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."
"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.
"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.
"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.
"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.
"What-no. Where will you sleep?"
"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."
JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.
"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."
"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."
And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.
He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.
BRB WHILE I SOB AND DIE.
A/N: just a little blurb of the pogues curing a sad night because i finished obx s3 and i felt like it. w.c: 656 pairing: the pogues x gn!reader (platonic)
navi
masterpost
“why don't you let me wallow in peace?”
you mumble after taking a sip of your beer. you felt when a group of warm bodies approached your personal space. the pogues never knew the meaning of leaving you alone.
“because we don't wallow alone. if we're gonna suffer, we'll suffer together.” kiara chimes in from your side. when jj nudged your thigh with his feet you finally drifted your attention from the night sky to look at them.
pope offered you a plastic cup. you stared at it suspiciously.
“for the hangover tomorrow,”
you lifted an eyebrow, a lazy smirk growing in your mouth. “what hangover? I've barely had three of these, pope,”
“add another three beside that one and it's about the right amount.”
“shut up, jj.”
“he's right,” you looked up with a glare, finding john b pulling his hat off to lay it over your head. he sat down on the grass, in front of all of you. “stop drinking over your sorrows. it's not healthy.”
“yeah, okay, dad.” you spurt out, annoyed. you had the cup pope outstretched to you between your fingers anyway. “like you don't do the same.”
“i'm a changed, man,” john b gave you a sly grin.
you rolled your eyes.
at some point, a conversation about which is the bigger fish started and you got lost when jj begin to list every rich boat model — he knew a lot of those. when did the subject even reach that?
“i miss her,”
it was more of a whisper in your head. an ongoing lyric that never ended and you couldn't tune it out because it had a strong grip in your brain.
break-ups happened all the time. you know it. you've been through it before. but now it felt like... like the pain would never go away. it would never leave you. you gave your heart, again, and someone sticked glass into it, again.
why did you even try?
“i know,”
you heard kiara say and that's when you finally realize everybody had gotten quiet, exchanging looks. oh, so you had spoke out loud.
great, you didn't even have control over your tongue anymore.
“but it gets better,” she leaned her head on your shoulder, moving her hand to intertwine with yours quietly. “i promise.”
“it doesn't feel like it,”
“but it will,” it was pope who spoke, “nothing that is able to get worse isn't able to get better.”
you stood quiet at that, absorbing the saying. your eyes glazed over the water again and you lift it to your lips, gulping it down with a grimace. you didn't think you had had any water in the whole day.
jj let out a snicker from your lap, he had laid down on it at some point. “where did you take that out from, pope? fashion magazine?”
“he'll be a great philosopher some day,” john b raised his beer and kiara clincked it with her ring. “... quoted in all textbooks at universities like harvard and shit.”
“ah, screw you, I'm just trying to make them feel alright, okay?” he protested pushing them off as they laughed.
cracking out a smile, you touched his shoulder softly, mouthing a thank you. he nodded and smiled.
“you have us, you know?” you glanced down at the blond. “no matter what happens, no matter what goes down, you'll always have us.”
“preach, maybank,” kiara said, flicking his exposed forehead. he groaned, flipping her off as he settled more comfortably in your thighs.
your chest then bubbled with a warm sensation, something that resembled safety. no. it was definitely, safety. your friends were you safe haven in the middle of the chaos. there was no way you were able to be sad with any of the pogues around, they made sure a smile always danced in your lips. and you were grateful. because lovers come and go, but your friends? that was forever.
FUCKING SCREAMING I LOVE THIS OML
SUMMARY : You and JJ stand on a pier, having a playful talk about his hands.
GENRE : EXTRA fluff. Lots of emotional intimacy.
WORDS : 739
You stood at the edge of the pier, the salty sea breeze wafting through your hair as JJ crept up behind you. His arms enveloped your waist, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
Your thoughts drifted to his hands as they slid down to rest on your hips, his fingers grazing the skin of your waist. You had always been captivated by JJ’s hands - rough and calloused from years of hard work, yet so gentle when they touched you.
As he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but marvel at the contrast between his strong, weathered hands and the softness of his touch.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asked, but you felt as if he already knew.
You turned to face him anyway, feeling a warmth spread through your body as you looked into his bright blue eyes. “Just thinking about your hands.”
JJ raised an eyebrow. “My hands?” he asked, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, your hands,” you rolled your eyes, knowing his playful nature all too well.
JJ’s smirk grew wider. “Is that so?” he hummed, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Yeah, they may be rough around the edges,” you remarked, tracing your fingers over the scars that crisscrossed his knuckles - reminders of a violent past. “But there’s something strangely captivating about them,” you continued, your gaze fixated on his hands. Despite their scars, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the strength and resilience that they represented.
JJ chuckled, his fingers tangling in your hair as he leaned in closer. “C’mon Y/N. You’re making me sound like some sort of sea monster.”
You laughed, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. “No, I think you’re more like a sea god, with your surfing skills and handsome face,” you said, a playful glint in your eye. “Or maybe a hot sailor.”
JJ grinned, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Well, you know what they say about sailors and their hands, don’t you?” he teased, his fingers tracing a pattern along your collarbone.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “I’m sure I have no idea,” you said. “But please, tell me, Captain Maybank.”
He chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let’s just say, they know their way around a ship,” he said, his hands trailing down your sides. “With hands that know how to navigate.”
You tilted your head, trying to hide a smile as you asked, “Navigate what exactly?”
“The twists and turns of the sea,” he replied, his hand moving down your back, “the curves of a woman's body…”
With a playful grin, you lightly swatted JJ’s arm. “Seems like you’re quite the charmer, Captain,” you teased, unable to hide the amusement in your voice. “But I can’t help but wonder - what else do those skilled hands of yours know how to do?”
His lips curved into a softer smile as he lifted your hand to his lips, trailing soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, for one,” he said, his breath hot against your skin, “they’re pretty good at holding yours.”
You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your body. “And what else are they good at?” you asked, teasingly.
JJ leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “They’re pretty good at touching,” he whispered, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your palm.
“And what else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
JJ gazed into your eyes with a depth of emotion that sent shivers down your spine. “They're damn good at making you feel loved,” he finally said, his voice low and steady. “Every time I touch you… it’s like I’m home.”
Feeling safe and cherished in his embrace, you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m so lucky to have you,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips. “You make me feel like I’m home too."
As JJ leaned in for a kiss, his hands moved up to cradle your face. You closed your eyes and surrendered to his touch, feeling the strength and tenderness in his hands. They were the hands of someone who had weathered life’s storms, yet still radiated love and kindness. In that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be - in his arms, with his hands holding you close.
A/N : Hiii, thank you sm for reading! I have a full story on Wattpad about JJ, feel free to read it here.