{JJ Maybank x Female reader}
Summery: After a relaxing day on the beach, you decide to hang out with Kiara at her parents' restaurant. Soon, the two of you are joined by three of the Pouges, one of whom may just be your secret crush...
Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking and smoking, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, making out. !Female reader x JJ Maybank!
A/N: I just started watching the Outer Banks, so I apologize if the characterization for JJ is a bit off. (early season one ig).
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Wind rustled through your hair as you walked up the boardwalk, the color of the sun setting into your skin and hair, and the sand dunes slowly changing, as they always did. You smile backwards as the sun began its descent towards the water, pausing in the middle of the nearly deserted boardwalk for a moment to watch it. Finally turning back towards the parking lot, you realize how hungry you are, and the fact that you hadn't eaten since noon. Pulling your (slightly) see-through sundress more securely over your bathing suit, you walk more hastily down the steps and across the gravel parking lot to your car.
It's an old thing, given to you by your father. "Take care of what's left of it," he had said as he handed you the keys. You remember having complained about the dent in the back bumper, the chipping red paint on the sides where the door had been slammed, one too many times, and the rusting around the wheels, but it still was better than nothing. Now, at least, you could go places, have fun, and enjoy the freedom you had always begged your parents for.
You get in and turn on the engine, having to try it a few times before it finally gives in. The truck starts loudly, but quiets after a moment, soon slowing to a purr to blend in with the quiet wind that is coming in through the open windows. Backing out of the parking lot and beginning to drive down a log stretch of road, bordered by palm trees on either side, you wonder whether your father will be in the mood to make you something. You had very little left in the pantry, and he barely had the energy to shop anymore; and you barely had the time.
Today had, of course, been the exception, but you had realized years ago, that if you didn't allow yourself to relax once in a while, the cup would spill over, like bubbles in a bottle of champagne. And so, once a month, you gave yourself a day. A day to do nothing, if that's what you wanted; a day that wouldn't count the next morning when you got out of bed. It would be as if it had never happened, and you could continue your work as usual.
The first few times you had done this, you had found it hard to completely rid your mind of tasks and responsibilities, but as the years passed, and you had more of these days, it was easier to completely clear your mind of any and all thoughts. And so now, as you continue to drive down the long road towards home, you let yourself enjoy the last moments of the day.
When you are about half-way home, you stop the car, pulling over onto the side of the road to think. At the moment, the last thing you wanted to do was cook, and you were almost positive that your father either wouldn't be awake, or wouldn't be sober, when you opened the door, so you slowly assessed your options. You could go home, and grab a granola bar out of the cabinet to hold you over until breakfast the next morning, you could see what stores were still open and spend the ten dollars you kept in the back of your phone case on a pre-made salad, or-
You look up from the floor of your car, where you had been staring, blankly. Or, you could go see Kiara, and hope that she hadn't thrown away the leftover food from that day yet. Turning back onto the road and making a three-point turn to head back a couple hundred feet to Kiara's turn off, you can't stop hoping that Kiara's dad had turned on the frier that day.
