Fix You (Request | JJ Maybank x Reader)
a/n: i listened to anyone by demi lovato while writing this and i got super emotional about it? anyway here’s some more of my rambling once again! also, anon, you didn’t request who you wanted the pairing to be so I made this one JJ!
request: yes. “will you do 87 and 58 from the prompt list ? maybe angst with a fluffy ending 🥺” - prompt 58: “is that blood?”
warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of violence and abuse
“the five times JJ cries for you. and the one time you do for him.”
If you were to guess how many times JJ Maybank had cried in his life, you’d probably guess zero. You were wrong. So wrong, in fact. And the worst part? Most of his tears were shed because of you. Not because of his father, or the pain he had endured from him. Not from his mother leaving and never returning. But because of you. Just you.
JJ laid out on the mattress in the spare room of John B’s house. Hacky sack in hand, tossing it up in the air and catching it. Repeatedly. Over and over. As did his thoughts about you. Like your hands. Your fingertips gently trailing up and down his arms. Your lips. And how the corners of them would slightly turn up whenever he glanced your way. Your eyes. Oh, your eyes. How they glistened and softened when you looked back into his. JJ was brought out of his thoughts when his hacky sack dropped on his face, forgetting to catch it once the image of your soft smile raced through his mind. JJ sighed, breathing out a loud huff engrossing John B’s attention.
“Girl problems?” John B’s voice came through the open door. Not cynical or sarcastic, but actually.. caring. Concerned? JJ glanced to his best friend who was leaning against the wooden frame, arms crossed against his bare chest. The sunlight from the open window in JJ’s room casting a golden glow on his already golden skin.
JJ nodded, sitting up straight and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to face John B. “It’s just like.. I don’t know, bro. I talk to her and shit and I try to be different. Like. Not like the real JJ.. like the JJ I think she wants me to be. The JJ I think she deserves. You know?”
“I think you’re trying too hard, bro. I get you don’t wanna tell her about your dad and stuff right now but trying to be a different JJ isn’t going to win her over. It’ll push her away, dude. Chicks can sense that shit. She’ll know you’re acting different toward her than you do us. And she’ll get pissed. Trust me, bro. Just.. just be you, JJ. Just be you, bro.”
JJ nodded, switching his gaze from John B’s eyes to out the window at the trees swaying gently in the breezy wind. He felt a few tears escape past his eyes and trickle down his cheeks. Hoping John B didn’t see, he quickly wiped them away and shook his head. He raised both eyebrows in a quick motion to acknowledge what his best friend had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe JJ shouldn’t try to act differently at all. Maybe JJ should just be JJ. Just be him. He scoffed. As if you’d ever like the real JJ. That was the first time JJ had cried for you. Because of you.
“I think I’m going to head out.” You nervously glanced at the group in hopes you didn’t just make things weird. You weren’t in the mood to deal with JJ’s bullshit tonight, so after he spat out a stupid remark about you, you decided to call it a night.
“Come on, don’t leave yet. JJ’s a dick, everyone knows that.” John B’s voice pleaded as his eyes did the same. You could hear JJ scoff. You sent him a soft smile but shook your head. You grabbed your bag that settled on an old log that sat atop the sand as you made eye contact with Kiara. She pursed her lips into a thin line, understanding why you were leaving but unsure of what to say. It was fine. You tried to assure her of that. Everything was fine.
You flashed your crew a quick peace sign before turning on your heels and walking back to the road to your car. You fumbled with the contents in your bag before pulling out your keys. You didn’t hear the footsteps running toward you.