Jj Fluff - Tumblr Posts

secretly pining, best friend!jj headcanons...

warnings mentions of menstrual pads/tampons, mentions of being drunk/high (barely)

jj masterlist

❥ he keeps hair ties around his wrist, strategically mixed in with his bracelets, and stashes a few scrunchies in the pocket of his backpack because he knows how much you hate it when your hair is flying around in your face (especially when it's getting stuck in your lip gloss). bonus points if you have textured hair and wear a bonnet while you sleep because he'll totally buy (steal) you one and keep that on him, too (for impromptu sleepovers)

❥ he practically lives in your room/house

❥ he can measure precisely how sad you are depending on what song you're listening to

❥ stargazing and having conversations about everything and nothing

❥ tucks you in when you fall asleep without a blanket or on top of the covers

❥ (for those who have/experience periods) he's too embarrassed to go out and buy you pads/tampons (only because he doesn't know what he's doing and is so adorably nervous about it), so when you aren't looking, he'll steal a few of yours and keep them at the chateau for you. he even keeps some at his house on the off chance that you come over

❥ i've talked about this in the past, but he'll take your makeup off and do your skincare for you if you're too drunk, high or just plain exhausted

❥ he's clingy as fuck when he's tired and will make you his personal body pillow

❥ will deny it to the group's faces but he loves to sing/dance to taylor swift with you, especially in the car (#carpoolkaraoke)

❥ when you're baking/cooking, he'll dip his fingers into everything and give it a taste test because he loves the look on your face when you 'scold' him

❥ always has a hoodie on/with him because he knows you're too stubborn and will deny that you'll get cold (even though you definitely will)

❥ dragging you out of bed at 3am for slurpees

❥ constantly finding ways to touch you

❥ asks you to teach him how to braid hair

❥ he'd steal one of your rings and loop it onto his shark tooth necklace so you're always with him

❥ if you have a dog, cat, etc., he'll carry them around your face like they're his baby (which they are)

❥ hogs the covers and yanks them off of you so you have to move closer to him/cuddle with him

❥ takes you for night swims at the beach/at the chateau

❥ picks random flowers for you, sometimes he'll put them in your hair

❥ he always carries your bags for you

❥ opens every single door for you (he's such a gentleman, i love him)

❥ if he's close with your parent(s)/guardian(s), he'll come over solely to hang out with them (and revel in the pout on your face when you realize he isn't there to chill with you)

❥ the type to binge-watch your shows with you and ask a million questions about the characters/plots but refuses to watch it on his own

❥ plays with your stuffed animals and gives them all different voices (and definitely steals one when you aren't looking)

jj tag list (join here!): @maybankslover @kittyqrt @v-velvetykisscs @hobiibobii @rafesdior @fool4him @hemogloban @pankhoeforlife @rafesmuse @lyn07 @houseofperfecttaste @qualitybelieverflower-blog @dudenhaaa27 @princessbetsy123-blog @tori-loves1 @alexxavicry @kenzi-woycehoski @elijahssuit @skydisneylover @adoreyouusugar @obxjjpouge @conniesanchor @baby-maybank @angel037 @wotfasked @rafelover @penny4yourthoughts @nerd505 @xngelsau @maybank-archives @p4nkowrld @spideybrina @pankowperfection @demiioxox @adr1an4 @lov3r0fr0ck @ellesalazar @buckyisveryhot @hoeforstarkey24 @aliyahsomerhalder @thelastgreatamericandynasty1989 @1spiderman1 @tell-me-when-you’re-ready @rosie-anne @slytherhoes @taintedxkisses

𓄼 — Let Me Show You

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2.1k] JJ teaches his girlfriend how to indulge in the wonders of his favorite hobby.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, a heated make-out session, mentions of/illusions to sex, drug use, my poor descriptions of smoking

A/N‧₊˚ I lowkey (highkey) had fun with this. Stay safe and make good life decisions.

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

ENTERING THE CHATEAU, I SPOTTED JOHN B LAID OUT ON HIS SOFA. He was on his phone, texting rapidly and biting his lip. Weird. His eyes drifted to me from the phone clutched in his hands as he heard the screen door close behind me. His eyes went wide and he dropped the phone, cheeks flushing red. 

“Uh, hey. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“I’m just looking for JJ.” I told him, looking at him skeptically. “He told me to meet him here.”

Fixing the hat on his head, he gestured for the front door. “He’s out in the Twinkie. I told him I didn’t want him smoking in the house.” Nodding and mumbling a thanks to the brunette boy, I turned back to leave the same way I came in.

With my hand on the door handle, I turned to face him once more.

“John B?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re going to sext your girlfriend, don’t do it in your living room with the door unlocked.” I teased.  And with that, I was walking out of The Chateau. Leaving a flustered John B behind and hearing his ‘fuck you’ as the door slammed shut.

APPROACHING THE VAN PARKED OUTSIDE THE CHATEAU, I BANGED ON THE BACK DOORS. “It’s me!” I stepped back a couple feet as the door swung open, my boyfriend revealing himself. A joint hanging from his lips, hair messy, and clouds of faint smoke billowing out around him that, no doubt, had been collecting in the air. He smiled around the object in between in lips and held a hand out to help me in the van.

Once inside, he shut the doors again and plopped down on the floor of the rickety vehicle. It was mildly fogging and a little humid. JJ pulled the small object from his between his lips. “Hi, pretty girl.” He cooed, clearly already a little buzzed. He was sitting against the side of the van, legs outstretched in front of him with a lit joint pinched between his fingers. His eyes, however, were on me. Scanning me up and down, almost hungrily.

Sitting down across from him, legs in the same outstretched position, I cocked an eyebrow. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He shrugged. "Can't help it."

JJ knew the affect he had on me. When he would do certain things, say certain things. “Why’d you call me so early? I thought we were hanging out with everyone later.”

“I’m just wanted to see my girlfriend.”

“You miss me that much?” I joked with a slight smile and shake of my head. “C’mon, J. What do you really want?” I asked nudging my knee against his.

He took a hit of his joint, blowing the smoke out and throwing his head back. His eyes met mine and a smug grin crept its way onto his features. He held out the joint in my direction. “Smoke this with me.”

To say I was surprised was actually bit of an overstatement. I’m not against smoking or drinking but I’ve only indulged in the latter. I’d never been too interested in weed or smoking in general. “I have no idea how to do that.” I chuckled.

JJ rolled his eyes with a smile and leaned forwards to grab my wrist, tugging me towards him. I put up no fight, letting him guide me gently until I was perched in his lap, legs on either side of him as he made sure to hold the lit object away from me as not to accidentally burn me.

“Let me show you.” He shrugged. “If you want.”

Suddenly, it was much hotter inside the spacious vehicle. The smoke in the air not helping. I nodded and tried to ignore the growing heat in my cheeks. JJ smiled and licked his lips. His free hand fell to my hip, holding me in place.

He brought the joint, that was now a stub, up to his lips. Smoking the last of it, he exhaled the smoke to the left as to not blow it directly in my face and put it out in the ashtray next to him. I frowned and pinched my eyebrows together. “Why did you do that?”

“There wasn’t enough left to teach you anything. ‘M gonna roll a new one.” He spoke causally, noting my fallen and confused expression. “I promise you’ll get your lesson, baby.” He teased with a wink.

Twisting his body lightly, he picked up a plastic bag and some metal cylinder-type thing that were next to the ashtray. He sat them both on his lap between us, taking one of the green-ish buds out of the bag and holding it out to me. Taking it, I immediately noted the way it stuck lightly to my fingers. “Why is it so sticky?”

“Realistically? Because of some kind of substance it produces. I don’t know what it’s called. But, the way I see it? It’s sticky because I paid too much for it not to be.” He jokes, plucking the herb cluster from my fingers.

Lifting the top of the small contraption, revealing little spikes and holes inside—he transferred some of the contents of the bag into it. “Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

“It’s an herb grinder. You put the buds in here-” He grabbed the top that he removed earlier. “-put this back on.” Sealing the object, now with the herbs inside—he turned the top part of it around a couple times. “You’re gonna rotate the top. This’ll grind everything up and separate it.”

“Why do you have separate it?”

“Makes it easier to smoke and burn evenly. More smooth.”

JJ’s eyes were hooded and he was clearly relaxed. It was fascinating to see him teach me something while in his state. But it was also kind of hot. He stopped rotating the top of it and went to unscrew the second part. When he opened it, he revealed the ground herbs. “This is the part we’ll smoke. Don’t smoke anything from the third chamber-” He said firmly, pointing to the very bottom of the herb grinder. “-down here.”

“Why not?” I asked curiously, still looking at the contents. 

“That is called Kief, sweetheart. And someone like you doesn’t want any parts of that. It’s strong, as fuck.” 

“But you can smoke it?”

“Yes, but you won’t. Not today, anyway.” He consoled, placing a quick kiss to my cheek. He set the grinder down beside the ashtray, still within reach, and picked up a rectangular, thin package. “This is rolling paper.” He concluded, plucking a sheet carefully and holding it lengthwise. Reaching over, he took some of the ground herbs and sprinkled it in the paper. 

Once the paper was filled with the crushed buds, he rolled it into a tube-like shape, albeit slightly uneven, and sealed it with his tongue. He held it up between our faces with a dopey smile plastered on his face. “And there we have it.” He nudged it closer to me, a sign to take it from him.

When it was clasped between my two fingers, JJ fished around in his pockets for a lighter, slightly moving me around on his lap and throwing me off balance. Once he had the lighter, the hand that’s empty trails up to hold the back of my neck. He holds the lighter up, slightly wiggling it before he spoke. 

“You’re gonna put that to your lips and when I finish lighting it, you’re going to inhale. Not too fast or deep and not for too long. You’re gonna cough but you’re good.” He assured. Flicking the lighter on, he raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”

I nodded, placing the small join between my lips. JJ lit the opposite end and retracted the lighter away and let it die. “Inhale, carefully…” He coaxed.

The smoke filled my lungs, and it felt overwhelming. My chest feeling full and throat tickling as JJ pulled the object from lips, rubbing my hip as I coughed. He started laughing and I lightly swatted his chest.

“You did good. You inhaled a little too long, though.” He grabbed his backpack on his left and unzipped it, taking out a bottle of water from inside. Unscrewing the cap with the joint clutched between his fingers like a cigarette, he tilted my chin up. “Open.” He ordered. I obliged without question, still coughing a bit. He poured the water into my mouth and pulled it back, pushing my chin up to close my mouth. 

I swallowed, the mildly cool beverage cooling my throat and soothing the dryness as he sealed the bottle and threw it to the side. Once I felt confident enough to speak again, I leveled my eyes with my boyfriend’s. “I feel okay. That wasn’t too bad.”

“Can you feel anything?”

“A little. It’s like I can feel it working it’s way through me but it’s not there yet. It feels weird, but good.”

“Wanna shotgun?”

“Do I want to what now?” I inquired with mild uncertainty. JJ cracked a little smile and shook his head with a slight giggle. Repositioning the joint between his fingers, he brought it up to his lips and took a hit. Once he pulled it away, he leaned forward—his free hand lightly wrapping around the base of my throat as he brushed his lips over mine and blew the smoke into my mouth, me inhaling almost on instinct.

My heart was beating so fast and I didn’t know if it was the weed or the blonde in front of me. I blew the smoke back out on a shaky breath, my eyes drifting down to his lips. 

I didn’t even register the movement he made to connect his lips with mine until I felt the familiar pillowy-soft feeling of his lips, the slight tinge and warmth of our activities swirling around in the kiss. His lips moved against mine, slow but firm—his lips slightly dry but not chapped and he tasted of something that was so…him. 

The hand resting on my throat tightened in the slightest of ways as the hand holding the blunt disposed of it in the ashtray before coming up to hold the side of my face. My own hands ran through the hair at the back of his neck as I shifted on his lap, eliciting a low grunt from the boy underneath me. 

I could feel the effects slowly starting to hit me by the second. My body felt light, but not to the point where I felt like I was floating or flying. It felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders that I didn't even know was there.

His tongue came out to swipe against my bottom lip, a silent request for entrance. I parted my lips for him as his tongue entered my mouth. No fight for dominance as I let him do what he pleased.

I pulled away from the kiss, slightly out of breath and pulled my shirt over my head. Revealing my bra underneath as JJ’s eyes went slightly wide and he bit his lip. 

“Smoking with me and sex in the Twinkie? Have I corrupted you?” He asked teasingly. I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

“You did that a long time ago.”

I ROLLED OFF OF JJ AND ONTO THE FLOOR OF THE TWINKIE—breathing heavy, stray pieces of hair frizzy and out of place, lips swollen and a blanket draped over our sweaty bodies. Turning to JJ, he was in a similar state, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking out in ten-thousand different directions, some hickeys and scratch marks starting to take a dark pink color on his chest.

“Y’know-” He started, sitting up on an elbow to trace a finger up along my collar bone. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I smiled, my cheeks heating up and starting hurt. I was about to speak when the doors of the van flew open, my eyes flying to John B who stood at the foot of the van. 

“Oh shit.” He exclaimed, taking in the scene around him. I pulled the blanket up further, muttering a 'jesus' while JJ hissed a 'close the door man'.

John B shut the doors quickly as I looked around for my shirt and shorts, JJ handing them to me while trying to hold in a laugh. I took the clothes and shot him a glare. “Really?!” John B shouted from outside. “In my van? The Twinkie?! C’mon guys.”

Once we were dressed and cleaned up our mess in the van, JJ opened the doors and motioned for me to jump out first, him following. John B was leaned up against the other side and pushed off to walk over to us as JJ shut the doors. 

“The others just got here.” He said, eyes narrowed as he pointed a finger at us. “You two are disinfecting my entire van when we get back.” He turned around and stomped back into the Chateau, mumbling something under his breath and shaking his head in disapproval.

JJ laughed while fixing his shirt around and I elbowed his arm softly. “That was not funny.” I shook my head in slight embarrassment.

JJ looked at me and slung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Aw, don’t worry, my little stoner. He’ll forget about it.” I looked up at him and rolled my eyes but I could hide the small smile growing on my face.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

the one where jj loves your ass (jj x routledge!reader)

request: JJ x reader please. Summary: Can I request one where jj loves the readers ass like a cute little blurb or something when he’s always trying to touch it or smacks it. And maybe she’s john Bs sister and he goes mad when his best friend smacks his sisters ass x

a/n: you guys kill me with the jjxroutledge!reader requests. i love them. i hope you like this!

warnings: lil bit of groping and spanking (?) but not in a sexual way ig??

my masterlist

“hello, pretty girl,” jj says as he enters the chateau, the sight of you sprawled out on the couch bringing a smile on his face.

today is your day off and you had been waiting for your boyfriend to come back from work so that you could spend some time together. it’s safe to say that as soon as you hear his greeting, you jump off the couch and launch yourself at him.

jj catches you and chuckles at your sudden movement as you wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him sweetly.

“hi, baby.”

“did somebody miss me?” he asked with a cocky smile on his face.

“shut up, you left me alone with john b all day. he turns into a baby when he’s sick.”

he laughs, completely agreeing with your statement.

“so,” he says patting your ass before taking it into his hands as you were still wrapped around him, “what d’you wanna do?”

you put your legs back on the ground, “how about we order some pizza and watch a movie?”

“whatever you want, as long as your cute ass stays right here with me.”

you roll your eyes playfully at him and turn around to grab your phone when his hand collides with your behind again, making you yelp.

“jj!”

“what? it was right there!” you push him and laugh at him in disbelief.

while you’re on the phone with the pizzeria, jj grabs two beers from the fridge and walks to your brother’s room. he knocks on the door a few times.

“hey, jb. we’re ordering pizza, you want some?”

“yeah. coming right out,” the blond hears from the other side of the wooden door.

when jj goes back into the living room, he throws himself on the couch and waits for you to sit next to him. he makes grabby hands at you as you hang up the phone.

you smile at him and happily walk over to the couch, relaxing next to him with your legs on his lap. he gives you the second beer he had in his hand while his other arm wraps around your shoulders. your head nuzzles safely against his chest as your lips kiss his covered collarbone. jj puts his beer on the coffee table and rests his now free hand on your behind, squeezing it as you giggle against his skin.

“mmh, i love this ass,” he mumbles and you can’t contain your chuckle.

“thought you loved me.”

“i love you, but i also love your ass,” and he punctuates his statement with another squeeze.

“can you stop groping my sister in front of me, jj? that’s disgusting!”

john b’s voice brings you out of your little bubble as you realize that he walked into the living room during your display of affection.

“can’t help it, sorry,” your boyfriend says making your brother fake gag at the two of you.

when the pizza delivery guy knocks at the front door, you get up and, as you do so, jj smacks your behind playfully again.

“are you done?” you ask sarcastically but your teasing smile tells him you’re not a little bit mad.

“never, sweetheart.”

“you know, for future reference, don’t grab your girlfriend’s ass in front of her big brother if you wish to live a long life,” john b said, disgusted at the scene in front of him.

jj looks at you as you close the door and bring the food on the coffee table.

“you want a beer, bird?” you ask your brother.

“yeah, sure. thanks.”

you walk to the fridge, feeling your boyfriend’s eyes on your back and when you slightly turn your head, you find out your suspicions are true. you wink at him and send him a smile.

“kill me whenever you want, man. so fucking worth it.”

THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS JJ MAYBANK DOES

calls you a plethora of nicknames. he is a nickname kind of guy, i don’t make the rules! whether he is in the mood to tease or just simply acknowledge you, nicknames are his way of going at it. jj enjoys the way you roll your eyes and look away, slightly annoyed at him (and the butterflies that erupt in the pit of your stomach). he started doing it as a joke, but after a while, it just stuck. his favorites are definitely baby, pretty girl, and princess.

he does not hesitate to take the blame for you. with you being one of the most, if not the most, important thing in his life, he would much rather take the fall for something you did than have you face the consequences. even if it is something incredibly small, he’ll gladly take a step forward for your sake.

lets you fiddle with his rings. as a ring girlie myself, i will fight anyone and everyone who objects to this headcanon. when you’re bored in class, tired of listening to mr. sunn drone on and on about some history lesson, jj will pick up on your weariness and just offer you his hand. and, of course, you happily toy with the rings on his splayed fingers, spinning the jewelry that reflects daylight from the classroom windows. you can’t help but enjoy the warmth of his palm under your touch, forever content running your fingers over the smoothed out calluses and warm metal.

wears sleeveless shirts under your request. knowing you have quite the obsession with his arms (as you should), he likes to show them off. when he wears muscle tees or wife-beaters he is always sure to be extra smug about it, often wrapping his strong arms around your waist and shoulders. occasionally, when you’re feeling a little bolder than normal, you’ll even take the initiative of linking his elbow with yours as the two of you either walk or simply just stand side by side, not missing the opportunity to have his tanned skin against yours, bicep within your hold.

is the “wear whatever you want, i can fight” type of boyfriend. jj loves seeing you in provocative and revealing clothing (not including a bathing suit). whether you wear it often or not, you can count on the fact that he will immediately rush to tell you how gorgeous you are, his eyes bright and lips pulled into a flirtatious smile. “you look nice, baby.” the expression on his face always tell you he’s thinking you look more than just ‘nice,’ but you let his hidden yet obviously dirty thoughts slide. however, if someone else makes comments, or their eyes stay glued to somewhere they shouldn’t, jj is quick to give a warning. whether they choose to listen or not is up to them, but god help the motherfucker who decides to give not just give you a hard time, but also him.

shares his hobbies with you and vice versa. one of his love languages is quality time, and seeing you enjoy the same things he does instantly puts a smile on his face. additionally, if you want to take the time and teach him about some of your own hobbies, this man will do anything in his power to get good at it. you both like the closeness and intimacy of being somewhat vulnerable with each other.

open to hugs at any given point in time. his hugs are just…out of this world. you like the way time just seems to pause, even if it’s only for a second, the moment his front is pressed against yours. and the way he holds you—as if you are both the sturdiest and most fragile thing in the universe. his hugs make your heart beat wildly, and you’re certain there are times when he can feel it thumping against his own. the feeling of being swallowed by his existence makes everything just seem utterly complete. and this includes back hugs; jj is an enormous fan of these. the familiarity of your body against his, while he is able to be working on another task, is such a heavenly concept to him. multitasking, am i right?

is always there, ready to protect you at a moment’s notice. whether it be physical or verbal, you can count on your lovely boyfriend to be right by your side the moment something goes south. while he will gladly let you handle a situation on your own, the moment you send him a look he will happily step in and defend you. if the problem turns into something more dangerous, and more than a verbal assault, he’ll rush in without consulting you about it first. he would rather you be okay and mad at him than hurt and full of regret.

does things just to see you happy (but also contradicts you just to be annoying). being the way that he is, jj will always be a vexing combination of charming and irritating. he loves to see you happy and will do anything to get even the slightest grin on your face, but that also means he loves to annoy the absolute fuck out of you just for kicks. if you are trying to study for school or do something alone in a quiet space, he is there to make the one-person job a two-person job. will not take ‘no’ or ‘go away’ as an answer when it comes to being around you.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

JJ Maybank Fluff ABC’s

Warnings: Routledge!Reader, OBX 3 spoilers

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

JJ loves how kind you are. You were the first of the pogues to know about his problems with his dad, and you opened up your room at the Chateau for him as soon as you found out, never allowing him to be alone after something happened. He was very thankful that you didn’t tell anyone, not because you didn’t want to, but because he asked you not to, because he didn’t want pity from anyone. 

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

His favorite part of your body is your stomach. You weren’t as built as the other pogues, because you got yours and John B’s mothers genes, which made you a little heavier set, no matter what you did to try and combat it. You used to not eat as much, which your dad didn’t notice, but John B and JJ did, and they always made sure to get you food whenever they could, even if you claimed you didn’t want it. JJ made sure that you knew how much he appreciated your stomach, and would at times tell you he loved it and made sure to feed you because he knew you didn’t and someone had to take care of it.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

JJ alternates between wanting to be the big spoon and wanting to be the little spoon. When he’s had an especially hard day, like at work or with his father, that’s when he wants to be the little spoon. Any other time or day he’s the big spoon. And you’re always cuddling. You always wind up on the sofa in the chateau living room, or in one of your rooms at the end of the night, cuddling. When you wind up on the sofa John B makes a comment to the two of you, jokingly, about how gross it is. 

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

You usually wind up having a picnic on the beach for your dates. And if not there, then he sometimes plans, to the best of his ability, a night alone in the chateau, or he gets John B to let the two of you take the HMS out. Really the two of you just love the nights that you get to be alone. The pogues are always together, so any time that the two of you can find time alone, especially when the group is in the throes of a treasure hunt, is amazing and you both savor it. 

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

You’ve known each other for so long that he cannot hide anything from each other. At first he was good at hiding his abuse from his father from you, but ever since the hot tub incident, right after the two of you got together, he hasn’t been able to hide anything from you, and since his dad left he hasn’t had much to hide since then anyway, but any time that he hurt himself just from being clumsy, or any other reason, you automatically noticed.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He’s not sure if he wants one, because he’s worried about how he will help provide for them, and also because he is worried he will turn out like his father, and he doesn’t want that to happen. 

if/When he decides he does want kids, he will want them later, not sooner, because he wants to make sure he has the money to provide for them, and that the two of you have a safe home to keep them in, rather than his old house or the chateau. 

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He wants to be able to give you gifts, expensive ones, but since he can’t his gifts are usually just some shell or something he finds while on the beach, or something from the lost and found at his work. He can’t give you as much as he wants to, but he still gives you some stuff. Sometimes you take his shirts and keep them, and that is also a version of him giving you a gift. 

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

JJ isn’t a huge hand holder, but he always has an arm around you. Whether it be around your waist or shoulder, he’s always touching you in some way and showing everyone that you’re his.

It takes some time for him to start being physical like that with you, because at first the pogues, especially your brother, were not for the relationship, partially because of no pogue on pogue macking, and because you had all been friends for so long they were worried how it would change it. 

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

JJ would lose his mind if you got hurt. Especially if it was during a treasure hunt. He would blame himself, he would blame John B. The last thing he wants is something to happen to you. 

When you inevitably got injured, spraining your ankle while running from something, JJ gave you a piggyback for a week straight, never leaving your side. The one time he would let you walk somewhere would be when you would be going to the restroom. He also benched you from all heists or plans for that week, because he didn’t want you to get injured again.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

He’s a prankster. Through and through. His favorite way to prank/trick you is to pound on your door or windows and scare you. Or sneak up on you and scare you. 

He also loves to fake injuries when he falls, which is quite often because he is indeed a klutz. 

One time he faked cutting himself when he was making himself some food at the chateau and once you realized he wasn’t actually injured you threatened him within an inch of his life if he ever did it again. 

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

JJ almost always has his lips on you in one way or another. If all of the pogues are around, its typically just a peck on the lips, or cheek, forehead, head, so on. But if no one else is around then it’s much deeper, and is typically either a deep kiss on the lips, or a hickey on your neck or somewhere around there. You sit in front of him a lot, so he kisses the back of your neck and your shoulders a lot. He’s so gentle and obvious about it, that somehow the pogues never notice, because he doesn’t try to hide it, it’s just second nature and unnoticeable. 

However, one time John B did notice, he made a noise of disgust, but didn’t really say anything other than that, because it was at a time where he had already accepted that you two were together, he just didn’t expect to see any PDA at that exact moment. 

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

His love language is definitely physical touch. JJ is very much a physical affection guy. He always has his hands on you and is touching you. That is how he shows you he loves you.

Another way he shows you he loves you is when he willingly shares his pot with you. He’s very much a “this is mine” guy, but for you he’ll share anything, including his weed and beer. 

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Your favorite memory with him is, even though it’s a sad memory,  how he took care of you when you thought John B was dead. Jombie was your last living relative, and when there was a chance he was dead he took amazing care of you and never left your side, except for when he had to go to work. You work for the Heywards, so for the few weeks that you all thought John B was gone they gave you time off, because they knew how you were feeling. 

Another favorite memory of yours is your first date. In the middle of the original gold quest, he took you out on the HMS and made you a picnic and the two of you just spent the night together under the stars. 

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

His worst fear is you dying. With all of the treasure hunts that the pogues go on, it seems more and more possible that you could die on one of these missions, and that thought keeps him up at night, more often than he would like to admit. He’s taken to staying up just to watch you sleep, and to make sure that nothing could happen to you. In Poguelandia he barely slept, and when he did sleep he kept himself wrapped around you. 

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

His ideas are never good, unless it comes to surprising you. He always has ideas during treasure hunts, and they almost never work out, but when it comes to using the pogues to surprise you in some way, he always makes it work. I guess the oddity is that he actually thinks things through when it comes to you, and only when it comes to you.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Babe

Baby

Princess 

y/n/n

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

He loves when you sit with him while he smokes. Even if you choose not to participate, he loves that you will just sit with him and listen while he talks. The pogues have taken to tuning him out, but you will always just sit and listen to him, no matter what is going on around you. You always make sure that he knows that you are there and listening to him and what is happening in his life. 

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Golden- Harry Styles 

Water Fountain- Alec Benjamin

Ocean Eyes- Billie Eilish 

Afterglow- Taylor Swift 

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

After the hot-tub incident JJ started telling you absolutely everything. There was not a single thing that he kept a secret from you. And you never kept a secret from him. After your dad came back and hijacked John B to work with him secretly, you immediately went to JJ to tell him the things you had overheard, and how you were concerned about the danger that your dad and Jombie were going to find themselves in. When your brother finally brought the situation to the two of you, JJ did an amazing job of acting as though he had no idea what he was talking about. 

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

You grew up together, and it wasn’t until the first quest for gold that you both admitted your feelings and got together. So probably a solid 13 years that you loved each other but neither of you let the other one know. 

One reason you waited so long to admit your feelings was because John B had made the no pogue on pogue macking rule to keep you and JJ from getting together. He didn’t want to lose his best friend if something went wrong, because in the end, no matter what happened, you were his twin, and he would choose you. 

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He will just be near you and do whatever you need.

A great example of him just being there was when John B went missing. He stayed by your side, and if you needed anything he would use your phone to text Kie or Pope and ask them to bring it by the chateau. He never left you, even when all you did for three days was lay in bed in the fetal position. He got you water and snacks, but didn’t make you move from the bed. On the fourth day when you were finally ready to maybe move and change where you were laying, he made up the couch and sat with you out there. He also had Pope bring some groceries from Heywards, and he cooked you a simple dinner, one that he had watched you make a hundred times. 

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He loves showing you off. At parties he’ll keep you by his side and introduce you to anyone new, or anyone that hadn’t been around for awhile, as his girlfriend, making sure that they all knew you were taken.

One time he doesn’t want to show you off is when you’re in one of your bikinis, because he’s always afraid that some kook will come around and take you from him. On the days you have on bikinis he “lends” you one of his cutoffs to wear as a cover up, so that anyone that looks at you can see that you have someone.  

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He doesn’t want you to fight. If he could keep you out of the treasure hunts all together he would. But he knows that he can’t so instead he settles for never leaving your side, and always protecting you from the danger that inevitably comes around.

He would 100% fight for you. If a kook said something bad about you, they’re definitely getting punched. He’s nothing if not protective. 

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

You are an open book to him. For the most part because you’ve known each other for many, many years, and when you know someone for that long it becomes nearly impossible to hide things from them. Anything that ever bothers you, he immediately knows, because you have extreme facial expressions, and because you always shift into a different stance if you’re uncomfortable. 

On the rare occasion that you are able to hide something from him, like a surprise for him, he’s always concerned that he’s losing his touch with reading you like an open book.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Before proposing JJ would talk to John B, and, even though it had been like three years, just double check that he was still okay with the two of you being together. 

On the days leading up to the proposal he would have Kie take you out to get your nails done, have Sarah take you to get a new dress (for a “date” that JJ is planning), and he would have Cleo do your hair, because she is great with hair.

After getting the all clear from John B he would take you to the beach, the place of one of your first dates, and there would be a picnic that he had asked Pope and Cleo to set up for you. Somewhere nearby he would have Kie stationed with your camera, to make sure that she got photos of the proposal (because JJ knows you might kill him if you don’t end up with photos of the actual proposal)(and because he’s secretly, secret to the pogues I mean, a romantic and he also wants pictures of the moment). 

He waited to actually propose until you had finished eating the little snacks he had put out for you, and then he said “let’s go to the water.” and you stood up and started to walk to the water, not realizing that he was not with you. While you were walking he would get down on one knee and pull the ring out of his pocket. When you noticed he was not with you, you turned around and saw him there, and immediately ran back to him, dropping to your knees in front of him. He would then ask the question, and you would say yes, allowing him to slip the ring on your finger, before jumping on him and knocking him into the ground on top of the picnic blanket. 

After a minute or two the pogues all came out of their hiding spaces and started congratulating the two of you. John B and Sarah brought a bottle of champagne and some glasses, and the seven of you celebrated by drinking the champagne and watching the sun go down.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Cheesily, you. And weed. But really you. The only time he is truly calm is when you are next to him and he knows that you are completely safe and away from all danger. 

However, whenever you’re at work or out with the girls he either smokes or drinks to try and keep himself calm. 

Something else that helps him in those situations is when he is with the guys, because their jokester personalities help him relax, especially since they’ve all been best friends since forever.

THE PART WHERE YOU KISS ME — JJ MAYBANK

summary: You're stuck with the job of getting a very drunk, very lovesick JJ into bed.

length: 2.4k

contains: tooth-rotting fluff, obsessed boyfriend JJ, soooo touchy he can't keep his hands off of you (can you tell my love language is physical touch lmfao???), mentions of heavy drinking of course, zero plot, he's a flirty little freak and i hate him

note: Not the happiest with this but I haven't posted in a week and I'm in the middle of writing three other pieces right now...so take this as an apology gift for not having the GFAW chapter out yet <3

Driving to the Chateau this late is never ideal, especially when you’re tired and ticked off from a busy shift. Your feet and back ache, your head could use a few Advil, and you would be perfectly happy to stay home and sleep for twelve hours. 

But when Kie calls you, groaning and saying Your boyfriend is wasted and won’t shut up about you and you need to come pull him to bed, you go. It’s as simple as that, really. Partially because JJ is already painfully stubborn when sober and only gets worse as the night goes on (code for: he won’t listen to anyone but you), and partly because you get a sweet kick out of his clinginess and extra loving.

So when you finally pull up and hop out of your car, the sound of Pope sighing Finally doesn’t surprise nor offend you.  Kie and Sarah scurry over, welcoming you with hugs and jokes about how sorry they are they had to call you while John B and Pope still tend to the drunken blonde.

“It’s alright,” you assure them, “I don’t mind.” And you really don’t, not at all, not when he acts all the more helplessly in love with you.

The bonfire still burns on, red-hot embers breaking off into the midnight sky. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon plays from a speaker nearby, and beer bottles litter the ground as you approach. The fire’s warmth wraps around you, a handle of Tito’s—only half full—entering your field of vision as you find JJ reclined back on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes while his other hand taps along to the song. You crouch down next to him and hear him hum in tune.

John B stands behind you, feeling a little helpless. “He’s been talking about you nonstop since he got, like, three shots deep.”

“And as much as we love you guys together,” Sarah adds, leaning into the boy’s side, “He doesn’t listen very well once he gets started.”

You shoot them a smile over your shoulder. “It’s okay, I get it. You guys can head in if you want, this might take a while.” The two lovebirds wave you goodnight as they walk back inside with Kie and Pope, and you turn your attention back to your exceptionally troublesome boy. “JJ? Time to go to bed.”

He grumbles without moving an inch. “I told you to fuck off, Sarah, I just wanna see my girl.”

Your heart flutters at the name—his girl. You’ve never heard him call you that. Does he seriously think you’re Sarah? “Your girl?”

“Yeah, you know the gorgeous one?”

“Might ring a bell.”

“Yeah, well, she’s the most…the most beautiful person in the history of…of forever, and she’s mine, so get outta here n’…go flirt with John B or somethin’.” He lazily waves you off, mumbling something you don’t quite hear.

A smile fights its way to the surface, and you gently place your hand on the smooth plane of his shoulder. “Oh, but I wanted to flirt with you instead. How’s that sound, hm?”

He quickly pushes your touch away. “It sounds like my girl’s gonna kill you any second now, so watch it, Blondie.” He slurs his words as he speaks, pulling giggles from your lips. You gently take his wrist in your hand to remove his arm from his eyes and press a kiss where your fingertips touch him. His eyes stay closed, and he juts his chin in the opposite direction in protest.

“Jay, baby, I’m not killing anyone anytime soon,” you coo, leaning over his chest and face while running a hand through his hair. 

He opens one eye, suspicious of your claims, but quickly realizes it’s you, and turns to look at you like he’ll never get the chance to do it again, his expression swallowed by a smile. “When did you get here, baby?”

“Oh, just now,” you answer, laughter lacing your words, “Kie called me over.” You press a kiss to his forehead before sitting back up, your hand quickly taken by his.

“You should’ve come sooner.” His other hand makes its way to your thigh, smoothing over your skin. “I was waiting for you, all by myself, and—” he abruptly sits up— “there’s something I have to tell you,” he whispers. He casts a glance to the Chateau. “It’s top secret.”

With him this close, you can smell the vodka on his breath. “Yeah? What is it?” You loop your arms around his neck and scratch at the nape of his neck, to which he instinctively responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing the palms of his hands along your back.

“This is top secret, classified information, princess, you can’t just get it for free. Everything comes with a price.” A sly little grin comes over him, tugging you a little closer.

Knowing JJ, you already know where this is headed. You decide to play along anyway: “Name it, then. I’m sure we can strike a deal somehow.”

He mulls over his words before saying, “Hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“You—” he points at your chest— “give me three—no, five kisses for the info up front.” When you raise your eyebrows in suspicion, he continues, “And every follow up question is worth another kiss.”

“This must be very important information.”

“Very.” His hands, still soaking in the feeling of you beneath them, start to play with the hem of your tank top, fingertips slipping beneath the fabric to feel skin. “Better pay up soon.”

You feign a look of shock and place a hand on his chest. “I didn’t even agree yet, don’t get too excited.” 

He pouts with furrowed brows, convinced his offer would be impossible to resist. “Why? Baby, come on,” he urges, holding you tighter, “This is the part where you kiss me.” His eyelids droop with drunkenness and fatigue as he presses his lips to your neck, but you quickly take his jaw in your hand and pull him away. 

“Ah ah ah,” you tease. “You come to bed first, then I’ll give you kisses for your secrets.”

“But I don’t wanna go to bed.” His hands work their way from your waist down to your hips again, soon grazing your thighs the way he knows erupts butterflies in your stomach. “I wanna stay here with you…have you boss me around. You’re very sexy when you do it.” He smirks while looking up at you, and you know for a fact he’s just trying to push your buttons.

You roll your eyes and push his face away as you start to stand up. “You’re a pain in the ass, I hope you know that.” As bitter as you try to sound, you’ll always have a soft spot for him the way he does for you, especially when your bitterness is met with that beautiful smile of his. You hold out both hands, towering over him and urging him to stand. “C’mon, Jay.”

He leans his weight onto his hands, stubborn as always. “Will you stay the night?”

“Not if you keep this up, I won’t.” You lend him a condescending smile. 

“But Baby,” he groans, finally complying now that the stakes have been raised. “I haven’t seen you all day, and I miss you.” He starts to shuffle where he sits, taking hold of your hands as you pull him up, dizziness causing him to stumble into your arms. “Can’t a boy just get some love from his girl?” 

There he goes again—his girl. 

You loop his arm over your shoulder and wrap yours around his waist as you lead him into the Chateau, surrounded by his warmth and the smell that’s so distinctly him: a bit of beachiness, mandarin and musky from his body wash, a hint of marijuana.

“You’re very kind,” he rambles on, “for coming here so late. I missed you.”

“I know, baby. You told me.”

He makes his way up the steps with you, following as you open the door. “Well, I’m making sure you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, love.” You smile to yourself, a little caught off guard with how open he’s become.

“I still have to tell you that top secret information,” he whispers, leaning down to your ear-level. His body wraps around you as you stand in front of him to open the door to his bedroom, his arms start to wrap around your waist again. “And you still owe me kisses for it.”

You usher him into his room, shutting the door behind you. “C’mon, let’s get into bed. That was the rule.”

He does as you wish without complaint for once, though when he does sit at the edge of his bed, he also pulls you to stand in between his legs. “I’m in bed now.”

“I can see that,” you giggle, hands massaging his neck and shoulders.

“Does this mean you’ll give me a kiss now?”

“Not yet.” You tug at the fabric of his shirt. “Take this off, please?” You don’t think much when you say it, but once the words slip out and you see JJ’s brows raise as a cocky smirk crosses his face, you realize you need to cover your tracks.

He bites his tongue to oblige, nabbing the back of his tee before pulling it over his head. Revealed to you are his broad shoulders, his chest, those toned arms that are, admittedly, to die for, though you’d never tell him that directly. 

“You’re trying to undress me, baby?” he asks, too quick for you to correct yourself. His hands take purchase of your hips before taking up your thighs, his hands molding to your curves and getting treacherously close to your inner thighs.

Your face goes hot—why is he so good at this?—but you keep a straight face and grab his face, one hand cupping his jaw while the other supports the back of his head. “Do you want your kiss or not?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, almost immediately. His eyes glaze over, entranced by everything you are. A drunk smile is sent your way, and he can’t really tell whether the tingling all over his body is just from the vodka, or if it’s your hands on his body, your snippy tone that he knows is full of love. He’s sure that no matter how flustered he can make you, it’ll never compare to how you make him feel with even the slightest of touches.

Your grip goes soft, and you rake your hand through his hair, his eyes falling shut and his head gone slack into your hands. “You’re beyond wasted, aren't you?”

He laughs heartily now, eyes still shut as he nods his head. “I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, princess.” Giggles line his words and his face scrunches in a smile, dimple on display.

“How much did you drink?”

“A few beers.”

“And?” You tug lightly on his hair.

“Mm, some vodka, maybe. A few shots.” His hands drag from the backs of your thighs, to your hips, to your waist.

“JJ.” You stare down at his clearly vodka-dazed face. “How many is a few?”

He hums to himself, as deep in thought one can be when wasted. “Maybe seven…or nine…don’t remember,” he mumbles.

You sigh to yourself, not surprised by his recklessness but still not all too happy with it. 

But before you can formulate a single thought, a single articulated response, he starts to pout—eyes still closed of course, because your boy is nothing if not a truth-teller. “You sound mad.” Even when wasted he knows you so well.

“I’m not,” you fib a little, for his own sake. You kiss his forehead, then his cheek before letting go of him entirely to pull back the covers for him. “Come on, time to sleep, yeah?” You give a soft tug on his hand as his body goes pliant.

He slowly but surely crawls properly into bed, giving you a show of his back muscles flexing and relaxing before falling face-first into his pillow with a hmph. You lay down next to him as he lifts his arm with all his might, slowly turning onto his side to make space for you. Legs intertwine without words, the warmth of his body blankets your senses, his weight grounds you.

“You need to hurry, princess. I need to…need to give you the information.” The words are half-muffled by his pillow, and his eyes are still shut. 

“Oh. We’re still doing that?” You’re surprised he even remembers the information at this point—whatever it might be. 

He squeezes you tighter into his body, pulling a smile from you as he groans. “Yes, we’re still doing that…it’s important. You need three more…”

“Okay, okay,” you soothe, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. “Does that count?”

“Mhm, two more.” A stupid, drunk, terribly charming grin crosses his face, and it feels like you’re falling for him all over again, teetering at the edge of a cliff. His arm, still heavy on your waist, shifts a little, and his fingers dance along your back and light fires where they touch.

You curl your hand, gently, along the crook of his neck and kiss his jaw. “And that counts as well?”

With the way you’re whispering your words into his neck, JJ swears he could die happily. “Mm, sure does.”

For the fifth and final kiss, the corner of his mouth. It curls into your kiss like he knew it was coming, and you give him one more just for good measure—and, maybe, because seeing him smile is worth his weight in gold. You brush your hand through his hair before hugging him a little tighter towards your chest, all too aware now that you won’t be getting any information out of him the rest of the night. This minor inconvenience, however, doesn’t seem to compare to having him in your arms, his breath against your neck, his arm wrapped around you to tell you he’s there, and he’s there to stay, and he wants to be there more than anywhere else.

You think that you could play this game a million times over. The part where you kiss him—that is, when his lovely, sweet little smile peeks through that rough shell—will never get old enough to retire.

(But for tonight, you can live without more of his drunken teasing. Just for tonight.)

JJ Maybank as your boyfriend headcanons

Warnings: None

Pairings: JJ Maybank x reader

Words: 1158

*really loved doing these headcanons I definitely could have gone on for longer! lmk if you guys have any ideas?*

-Has an obsession with your hands, like almost always holding them or playing with your fingers whenever he's bored or anxious. All the pogues could be sitting around talking and laughing and he’ll be in his own little world, head bobbing to whatever music is playing, absentmindedly messing with your fingers.

-Lets you braid and style his hair when his head is on your lap or stomach, you'll do little tiny braids or buns all over his head and he’ll love the giggles it brings out of you.

-You guys always have each other's stuff in your bags, you will have his sunglasses or caps in your tote bag and he’ll have some of your lip balm or body spray in his backpack. 

-He will complain about it but he secretly loves finding your hair grips or hair ties around his room and the bathroom at the chateau, sometimes he’ll even have a hair tie around his wrist just in case you need it.

-You guys have a joined playlist on your phones, each other constantly adding songs you want the other to listen to or songs that remind you of each other, it never fails to make you smile whenever you realise he’s added a new song.

-The boy will always be finishing off any leftover food you leave, can’t finish your pasta? JJ will have it gone in seconds.

-Whenever you're lying down on his stomach just scrolling on instagram or tiktok, JJ will be looking with you, you won't even notice it until he's commenting about someone's post or whining that you scrolled away from a video too fast and he wasn't done reading. 

-Taking selfies on each other's phones when they get left unattended, you’ll both find them later on and most probably will end up being each other's lockscreens.

-Always knowing each other's favourite snack and drinks, picking them up at the store if you ever have the spare change. 

-You will constantly be sharing each other's vapes, whenever you use yours he will just hold out his hand without saying anything and you’ll know to hand it over. And when he uses his you will just tap his leg or arm and he will know you expect him to place it in your mouth for you to take a hit, you do the same whenever he rolls a joint. 

-Always reminding him about sunscreen when he’s out on the beach with the pogues, he doesn't burn at all really but he gets too excited to remember himself sometimes.

-Guides you with a hand on the small of your back.

-Or you'll hold onto one of his fingers whenever you're in a crowded place and he’s leading you through the crowd.

-Whenever he’s driving you places he is sure he knows exactly where he’s going and refuses to accept if he took a wrong turn, even when you have the location up on google maps and are directing him; his shortcuts never work out.

-Always has an eye on you at keggers or parties, never wants you to feel suffocated by his protectiveness but can’t bare the thought of you being in danger or uncomfortable without him there. So whenever you both go your own ways at these things, it rarely happens tbh, he’s always looking over at you or facing where you are, gotta keep his girl safe y'know?

-Sometimes you're not in the mood for surfing with everyone else so you and Sarah will sit on the sand or go for walks, you’ll always bring back a shell or rock or sea glass that you find, always telling him you found the most perfect one just for him.

-He keeps them in a special place in one of his drawers but you don't know that.

-JJ is a stomach sleeper through and through, can’t fall asleep if he’s not on his front, but yet he always manages to have his one free arm touching you somehow, either thrown over your stomach and holding your hip, loosely holding your hand from across the bed or gripping your thigh/leg when its pulled up over or near him.

-Refuses to wake up for anything, you’ll have to gently stroke his back or hair and kiss his cheek or shoulders to rouse him even a little bit- he does the same for you on the rare occasion he’s up before you. 

-Will 100% serenade you from across the room or beach at parties, mouthing the lyrics and pointing at you until you’re smiling and laughing at him. 

-He even ties your shoes for you whenever you're feeling slightly lazy.

-Sits next to you in the twinkie just so he can rest his head on your shoulder, even though he’ll need to shuffle down in his seat to reach.

-Will always give you sips of his drink and loves watching your reactions, sometimes you scrunch up your nose and shake your head and he’ll laugh and kiss your head. And sometimes you’ll hum and nod, taking another sip, a sign that he’ll have to get you one of these drinks when he goes to refill soon.

-Walks you home every single time without fail, or will pick you up or drop you off on his bike. Everytime. Very rarely are you ever walking anywhere alone or have to walk at all, but if you do then he’s texting you the whole way to make sure you’re good, or on a facetime or call with him until you get where you’re going. 

-Loves going to the store with you, he’ll hold your basket as you throw whatever you need in. If you’re not from the US then he absolutely adores watching you discover new things that you’ve never seen before, often taking photos of you holding said things with a shocked or surprised awe face and sending it to the group chat. 

-Definitely a hand on your thigh while he drives kinda guy.

-If you wear glasses he loves to see when you push them back up your nose, he doesn't know why he finds it so attractive but he just does. And he will definitely clean them off for you whenever you hand them to him to do, you could do it yourself but he's always wearing the best kind of shirts for it so-

-Watches you with the most curious and adoring look while you do whatever skin care or after shower routine you do, moisturising your legs, eye serum, face cream? He’s watching every step and is so focused he could probably do it step by step too.

-Y’know those tiktok’s about the taller guy that's following around his smaller gf, holding her bag or hand, no idea where he’s going but just happy he’s with her? That's JJ and you, 100%.

-Overall you and JJ are pretty much meant for each other, anyone that sees the two of you together can tell.

shiny things — jj maybank ♡

requested by anon<3

jj maybank x fem!reader, fluff, swearing and alcohol consumption, mention of weed

paper rings by taylor swift

it was definitely not just jj’s friends that were high when you first met him, although he insisted he was stone cold sober.

“j, you said i was the prettiest girl you’d ever seen! sober people don’t say shit like that.” you laugh everytime as he protests,

“they do when it’s true!”

but it wasn’t just him that was hooked from the first moment. you found yourself scrolling through social media for hours that night, right back to john b’s first posts of the two when they were fourteen.

“stalker.” jj scoffs and nudges you whenever you relay this story, to which you just flick him on the forehead.

you two hadn’t had the easier start. being pulled into a heist for gold only to lose it all in a massive cat and mouse chase had put a strain between you, especially as your grades suffered. but you got through it.

sometimes when you can’t sleep, you lay on his chest to hear his heart, and a part of you is proud that you claimed it. but you mostly just feel yours beat back, in time, and know you’re loved.

the first kiss you had wasn’t under the most romantic of circumstances. hiding in a shipment container, moments away from death and chaos, and you were starting to get nervous, like any rational person.

“don’t spiral now,” jj ruffled his hair, looking at your inconsistent frown with fear, “we’re about to go.”

“i’m not spiralling j, i’m thinking, just...”

he leaned forward, hands on your shoulder as he levelled his face with yours, “don’t think too hard.”

looking carefully over his stare, eyelashes fanning his slightly flushed cheeks, you felt an uncharacteristic surge of adrenaline, “kiss me.”

“what?” but he didn’t wait for you to answer. as soon as his brain caught up with his mouth, his lips were on yours, once, twice, three times.

after all the mess you’d gotten into over the years, the two of you tried to keep your heads down. it didn’t always work out that way, but occasionally there were some afternoons were you could just lounge in the sun, moving sluggishly to get more water every known and then, but mostly just laying with each other in the hammock.

swinging gently in the breeze, rested against jj’s chest, you spied a magpie building a nest near the chateau.

“hey, look at that.” you murmured, tilting his head in the direction of the bird’s sparkling collection as you sat upright to get a better view.

you could feel him smile against your hair as he rose up with you, “you like shiny things, pretty girl?”

responding with a shrug, you resumed your prior position and listened to his breathing.

“don’t think we can afford a shiny ring for you right now.” he said, more to himself than you, as he played with your fingers.

you shook your head, “i don’t need a shiny ring to marry you, j. paper will do.”

he grinned, “yeah? cos i can make one of those right now.”

🏷️ — none yet

the one where jj loves to have lunch with you

a/n: did i just write a random blurb even tho i have a thousand of ideas i want to write? yes. don’t judge me, i’m only human. okay but seriously, i’m thinking of writing a second part where he comes home later that night🤭 + the title makes no sense and i kinda hate this blurb but i’m in a writer’s block so bear with me🙏🏻 enjoy!!!

warnings: unwanted looks, suggestive

pt. 2 —> the one with your sundress

pairing: mechanic!jj x touch starved! reader

nav

add yourself to my taglist <3

add yourself to my rafe taglist <3

—

It’s not the first time that your boyfriend forgets his lunch at home.

Almost everyday, JJ comes back to your shared apartment for lunch time, complaining about how he keeps mistakenly leaving his meal behind before he sits down and eats with you. It’s obvious he does it to spend more time with you and you can’t help yourself but love him even more for coming up with his silly excuses to be with you.

Today, however, you want to surprise him. He’s been working so hard lately and you hate the fact that he has to drive back and forth for you, therefore you’ve decided to show up at his work place and bring him his favorite meal.

As you walk inside the garage he works at, the voices of his coworkers mixed with the sound of heavy metals clinking fill your ears and the strong smell of gasoline hits your nose. Your eyes take a quick scan around the place, looking for your favorite person, but instead you notice the amount of looks that are thrown your way by the strange men.

Surely, you wanted to catch JJ’s attention with your outfit, more like a promise for when he’s coming home later tonight, however others seem to be appreciating your boyfriend’s favorite outfit, completely oblivious that he’s your partner and wouldn’t hesitate to put them back in their place, and it’s making you feel extremely uncomfortable.

When you finally see a man’s legs coming out from under a car, slowly revealing himself, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and immediately walk to him.

JJ is sitting up from his position and as soon as he sees his pretty girlfriend strutting to him and wearing that sundress that you know that it drives him crazy, he can’t help but smirk. He raises from the ground and meets you halfway, still covered in car oil and yet you can’t believe how attractive he looks right now.

He rubs a clean cloth on his hands. “Hey, pretty girl,” he smiles before he leans his head down to gently and slowly kiss your lips, causing every guy in the garage to look the other way as they realize who you are. “What are you doing here?”

You shrug, “Wanted to surprise you. ‘S that okay?” you innocently ask him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Always a pleasure.” His eyes fall to your figure once again, a thousand memories fill his head of the many times he’s taken you while you were wearing exactly this dress and a smirk pulls at his mouth before he licks his lips. “This dress is driving me crazy though,” he whispers to make sure you’re the only one who can hear his words.

You can feel a warmth spread through your whole body, creeping up on your cheeks. “Tonight,” you mumble as you brush your nose against his once, causing him to grin down at you.

“‘S that a promise?”

“Maybe,” you giggle as you look up at his puppy eyes. “C’mon, I brought you lunch, baby.”

His smile widens at the nickname. You finally take his hand in yours as you lead him outside and to your car while he follows behind you, giddy like a kid in a candy store.

Once he sits in the passenger seat, you take him by surprise by sitting on his lap with your legs dangling on the side of his thighs. He wraps one arm around your waist instinctively, pulling your side against his stomach, and his other hand sits on your exposed thighs.

“Did I win the lottery or somethin’ ?” he jokes, although he’s loving every minute of your sudden affection.

“Mh,” you hum as you place your head in his neck, “missed you today, that’s all.”

You sweetly peck the skin of his neck and he bends his head in order to kiss the side of yours. “Missed you, too, pretty girl.”

“How long do you have until you have to get back to work?”

He sighs, knowing it’s not enough time to spend alone with you. “My break ends in thirty minutes I think.”

You raise from your position and quickly push your arm in the space between the two car seats in order to reach your backpack resting on the backseat. Pulling a plastic container from inside the bag, you hand it to him with a smile on your face.

“Eat your lunch, baby.”

His arm never leaves your waist as he enjoys his meal, mentally thanking whoever brought you into his life; his angel, his soulmate.

Once he’s done, he puts everything back and relaxes against the headrest while your fingers run through his hair, causing him to accidentally moan at the wonderful feeling. You giggle at his reaction and he slips his hand underneath your dress, grabbing the naked skin there and making you almost choke on your own saliva.

“Behave. I’ll get you back tonight,” he smirks.

You know he never breaks a promise and that excites you even more. “Can’t wait,” you whisper before leaving another kiss on his exposed skin.

Oh, this is going to be a long and hard shift for JJ.

taglist:

@jjmaybankisbae @notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @drewsgarfieid @taintedxkisses @uhcallmemommy @babypoguelife @screan @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @sweetestdesire @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @illicitfixations @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @jjgaybanklover @wildflwrdarlin @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @softcoremaybank @jjsbank444

your daughter being exactly like you or something and jj’s teasing john b and she’s like “ hey dada. you bein mean to uncle b”

"i messed up, man," john b says as he sinks onto the couch in your living room. "hell yeah, you did. how do you forget your girlfriend's birthday?" jj asks, laughing at him. "lay off, i've been busy with work. i swear i had some things planned. time just got away from me." jj gives him a look as if to say dude, what the hell is wrong with you? all he knows is that he could never, ever let your birthday slip his mind. you're all he thinks about, all the time. "you're such an idiot. i don't know how sarah is even letting you breathe right now." then, interrupting their hangout, your daughter walks over to her father. "you're being mean to uncle b, dada. mommy's gonna put you in a timeout." the two of them want to smile, partially because she still can't say uncle john b and says uncle b instead, and also because she's sticking up for john b. jj's reminded of you and how you're never afraid to speak your mind, a trait that you've obviously passed on to your daughter. he smoothes some fly-aways from her face. "i'm sorry, princess. you're right, i don't want a timeout."

concepts masterlist

jj treating all his bubbas like they’ve hung the moon??? so sweet and gentle to them and you’ve heard him talking to the kiddos like “your baby sibling is tiny. needs our help to get them big and strong. can we help them?”

kinda changed the quote a bit, i hope that's okay 🤍

it'd been a hectic day. having three children and one on the way is no easy feat, especially when one swift movement could make you pop. right now, you're laying in bed, your feet sore and ankles swollen beyond comprehension despite the fact that you've been in this exact circumstance three times already. you feel the exhaustion taking over, your eyes drooping. jj's in the playroom with your kids, keeping an eye on them and giving you a much-needed and much-appreciated break. "mommy! come play with us!" your son calls out. you're barely awake and you wonder if he's actually calling for you, or if you're just dreaming. "shhh," jj coaxes him. he pulls your son into his lap gently. "mama's sleeping, kiddo. your baby sister is stealing all her energy. they both need rest." your son looks up at him. "i don't want her stealing from mommy. that's mean," he speaks. jj chuckles softly, nodding in agreement playfully. "that's why we gotta let mommy relax. you wanna go tuck her in and make sure she's all cozy?" your son nods gleefully, instantly climbing out of jj's hold and running into your bedroom. you pretend to sleep, letting your little boy play the role of the dutiful son and taking care of his perfect mama. he pulls the covers over you, with the help of jj, and tucks you in nice and tight, the way you do with him. he kisses your forehead. "goodnight, mama." he then kisses your pregnant belly over the covers. "goodnight, baby sister. i love you, but you need to stop taking all mama's energy. she's tired." it's so hard not to pull him into your arms and tell him how perfect he is, but you make a mental note to do so when you wake up the next day.

concepts masterlist

what abt like. a really early morning and your alarm goes off for work. and you fumble and stretch to turn it off but there’s a massive weight on top of you and you look down and jj is acting as your own personal weighted blanket.

his cheek is resting right against your chest, his ear over your heart that he still makes skip at the littlest gestures. he’s got his arms looped around your waist to keep you close to him as possible. and you can’t help but smile and run a hand through his wavy blonde mop of hair.

it was rare to see him as peaceful as this, but it was always a sight to behold.

and so, was it really a crime you were an hour late to your shift that day?

jj maybank headcanons

lowercase intended! i literally couldn't figure out how to end these LMAO. these are my first ever headcanons so go easy on me but feedback is welcome!<3

wc: 475

jj’s love language is physical touch so he is always touching you.

out at a party? his hands are on your waist.

in the twinkie? he’s sitting as close to you as humanly possible.

hanging with the pouges? you’re in his lap.

he craves as much skin to skin contact as possible.

he’s so so protective of you.

he’s definitely gotten into fights because random tourons have tried to touch you in some way.

jj definitely isn’t possessive, in fact he loves it when other people look at you. he doesn't care because you chose him.

he doesn’t give a flying fuck about what you wear because like i said, mans can fight.

he absolutely loves to show you off. it’s one of his favorite things.

pet names pet names pet names!

princess, baby, sweet girl, pretty girl, love, etc.

you name it, he calls you it.

he loves making you blush. he’ll say the most outlandish things just to make your cheeks heat up.

you do the same to him though.

and surprisingly, he blushes very easily around you.

he would do absolutely anything to make you laugh, especially if you’re having a bad day.

that man will do anything for the bit, no one can convince me otherwise.

he loves doing face masks with you

he also loves watching you do your makeup.

“do they hurt when you put them on?” he asks while sitting on the bed, observing you at the desk.

“the lashes? sometimes if you get it in your eye, otherwise no. why, do you want some?” you joke while adjusting the lash you just put on.

“no but i want one of those masks again.”

he also knows your full skincare routine and whenever you get too drunk to do it, he does it for you.

jj maybank is definitely the type of boyfriend who ties your shoes for you. it doesn’t even matter what’s going on around him, if he sees you attempting to do it he’ll *gently* slap your hand away and do it for you.

he’s also the type of boyfriend who will cut your meat for you.

one time, he took you out on a full kook date. i’m talking makeup fully done, hair done, dress and suit type of date. you were struggling to cut your steak and jj noticed immediately.

“here baby,” he says, grabbing the plate and sliding it in front of him. “let me do this for you, princess.”

he loves to cuddle with you. he particularly loves it when he’s on his back and you’re right next to him with your leg over him. that’s heaven for him. that was actually when he first started calling you angel.

tries to teach you how to surf but you end up giving up and watching him look hot.

see like. i feel like jj would not at all be a flowers type of guy, but maybe he just really wants to surprise you one day so he brings you a big fancy bouquet that cost him too much but the smile on your face makes him know it was worth every penny and hour of work it took

jj lives to put a smile on your face. he loves the way your cheeks heat up and the smile lines that adorn your cheeks. that being said, it's not hard for him to decide to brighten your day with a bouquet of flowers. he's well aware of how romantic it is, and he knows how much you'll appreciate them. so, he decides to splurge. what's a little money being spent if he gets to make his girl happy? he almost breaks the bank, letting the flower shop attendant educate him and help him choose what to give you. his eyes almost pop out at the price, but again, what does it matter if he gets to make his pretty girl's day? when he gives them to you, he watches your eyes light up and the smile grow onto your lips. his heart threatens to beat out of his chest when you tell him how much you adore them, immediately running off to find a vase worthy of holding a physical representation of his adoration for you. he's long forgotten how many shifts he had to pick up just to afford them, because the look on your face makes it all worth it. you adorn his face with kisses, muttering a "thank you" in between each peck to ensure he gets the message. his heart is just so full at the happiness oozing out of you and he has no doubt that it was worth every cent.

Gotta Get Lost In the Sauce

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader (over 18)

TW:drinking and drugs, drunk shenanigans, throwing up, fluff

Summary: You've always been a party animal, but luckily JJ knows exactly how to take care of you.

Word Count:2.2k

There are a lot of reasons JJ loves you. He loves your smile, he loves your laugh, he loves your quick wit, and how you can befriend anyone just by being your radiant self. At the top of the list though, is that you're the life of the party. 

You're always on board with his dumb ideas and you're always the last one to call it a night. He's lost track of how many times he's had to practically force you to bed as you try to give everyone a second wind with more shots under the pitch-black sky. 

Usually, he's right there with you. The two of you are kindred spirits, and more often than not it gets you into trouble. The rest of the group has carried the two of you inside as you cling to each other's sides giggling about an inside joke more times than what could possibly be considered normal. 

Tonight, however, JJ has been nursing the same beer over the span of several hours. He knew it was going to be a night that he's on duty when you challenged John B to a drinking competition. The two of you have been matching each other shot for shot since sunset, and it's safe to say you're losing. 

You've got an impressive alcohol tolerance, but it's no match for the Routledge. JJ's been keeping an eye on you the entire time, ready to step in when you inevitably get careless. You're known for dancing on tables and running off into the night, so it's no surprise when he sees you performing your own concert on top of a log as the entire boneyard watches. 

He sees your footing get closer to the edge before you realize and he's out of his chair moving toward you at lightning speed. He gets there just in time, catching you in his arms as you stumble back and hurtle toward the ground. 

It takes you a second to get your bearings, but once you realize whose arms are around your waist you give him a sloppy grin. He returns it with ease, happy to see you so carefree. Most men would be jealous of everybody's eyes on their girl, but not JJ. 

He's proud that you're his and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you're always leaving with him. He considers that a win in his book. 

He takes in the glassy look in your eyes and ruffled hair, feeling his heart swell with love. Every day he swears he can't possibly love you any more than he already does, and every day he's proven wrong. 

"Hey, cupcake." 

His dimples peek out as he beams down at you, and it makes your chest fuzzy. Part of your intoxication is from the near-lethal amount of Tequila you've consumed along with a joint, but most of it is just JJ. 

You're always riding a high when he's around, even when you're stone-cold sober. 

"Hey, J."

Your voice is sweet and slow like molasses, the register an octave deeper than usual thanks to your inebriated state. JJ always loves your voice, but something about it when you're like this turns his insides to goo.

"You having fun?"

You're standing up straight now, his strong hands holding your waist firmly to keep you steady. You blink up at him through your lashes in a way that drives him mad and nod your head.

"The most fun ever." 

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a second so he can inhale your coconut shampoo and addicting perfume. 

"Good, baby."

You're about to respond when John B's slurred voice rings out behind you. 

"Yo, Y/n! You gonna come do this shot, or are you tapping out?" 

Your eyes light up as you break free from your boyfriend's hold, and you stumble over. JJ sighs as he watches your retreating figure, worry growing in his gut for your safety. He's never been one to cut you off, but tonight is shaping up to be a first. 

You make grabby hands for the shot glass and JB hands it to you, spilling some on the table in the process. You gasp dramatically as if he's just committed a crime before bending down and licking up the clear liquid. 

JJ's standing beside you now, his eyebrows raised in pure amusement as he looks on at the scene in front of him. 

"You can't go around wasting tequila, Jb! It's the nectar of the Gods!"

He doesn't say anything as he holds up his shot glass, and you clink the drinks together before tapping them on the table and throwing them back. The liquor slides down your throat with practiced ease, nearly tasting like water this far into the night. 

"JJ come dance with me!"

You hand laces with his, pulling him to the makeshift dance area as he laughs behind you. The two of you start having a dance battle, giggling loudly without a care in the world.

His arms reach out to pull you into him and he takes a moment to admire your beauty as he stares down at you. His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, and he nearly combusts at the way your body melts into his touch.

He pull back after a moment, the two of you continuing with your horrendous dance moves that look like something out of an 80's blockbuster film.

You stop and look around, taking in the raging kegger that's still in full swing. There's a pungent aroma of beer and drugs swirling around and you close your eyes to soak it in. This is your favorite way to waste time, and the pure joy nearly brings you to tears. 

Before it can fully sink in though, your eyes shoot open as an idea pops into your head. JJ recognizes the mischief twinkling in your eyes immediately and shakes his head. 

"Don't even think about it."

His words fall on deaf ears as you race forward, your feet kicking up sand as you sprint away. 

"God damn it."

He sets his beer down and takes off after you, doing his best to catch up. You're surprisingly fast given your state of being, and he mentally swears when he loses sight of you. Last time this happened he was by your side and it was the pogues chasing the two of you down. 

You'd both managed to escape that night and didn't show back up until the next morning. The thought of you out here all night alone spurs him on, and his legs move impossibly faster. He catches a glimpse of your shadow and shakes his head when he realizes what you're doing. 

"Fucks sake." He mutters to himself, though there's no anger or annoyance in his tone. 

He's able to catch up now that you've slowed to a jog, and he laughs when he sees you stripping down to just a bra and underwear. 

"Baby, what are you doing?" 

His voice startles you and he bites his lip to stop from chuckling when you nearly jump out of your skin. 

"Schwimming."

If your pronunciation is anything to go by, you most definitely should not be in the ocean alone right now. As much as JJ wants to be irritated at your erratic behavior, it does nothing but make his adoration grow. 

He watches you plunge into the waves and thinks fuck it before stripping down to join you. The two of you stay there for God knows how long, just laughing and playing in the salty water as the bonfire flickers in the distance. 

Eventually, you start to shiver and JJ ushers you back onto the beach. He wraps you up in his embrace, happy to share his body heat with you. You're thankful that you were wearing surf shorts and one of JJ's tops tonight because otherwise, you don't think you'd be able to pull your clothes back over your damp skin. 

Once the two of you are dressed, you make your way back to the party with wet hair and bruised lips. John B motions you over for another shot and JJ shoots him a glare. The man just shrugs with a lopsided grin and you continue toward him. 

He moves to hand you the glass and you hold up one finger while starting toward a bush. 

"Where are you going?" 

Confusion laces his voice and you stop for a second to answer. 

"Just give me a second to puke and rally, then you're going to lose this bet."

JJ takes a step forward and grabs your hand before you can move and starts guiding you up toward his bike. 

"Okay, I think that's enough for tonight."

He almost caves when that adorable pout covers your features, but he knows you're already in for a world of hurt. 

"But I'm not done yet. Come on, J! The night s'young and if I leave I'll forfeit the bet!"

Your pleading does nothing to help and JJ shakes his head. 

"It's almost two am, baby. Your night is over, come on."

You cross your arms but do as he says, grumbling under your breath the entire walk. 

"When did you become an old man?"

He ignores the small dig and continues supporting your weight as the exhaustion starts to consume you. This always happens; your energy starts to dissipate once you're away from the party environment and it's only a matter of time before you crash. 

He holds out the helmet he reserves just for you silently, waving it around when you don't take it. You finally slip it on your head against your wishes, and he helps you onto his bike before climbing on. 

You're stubborn, refusing to hold onto him and instead keeping your hands planted firmly on your thighs. He smirks to himself and revs the engine, causing the bike to lurch forward. It forces your body to slam into him and your arms instinctively lock around his waist. 

"That's better. Hold on, cupcake. The last thing I need is for you to fall off."

You scrunch up your nose when you realize what he did, but keep your hands laced together on his abs as he speeds off toward the chateau. He makes it there in record time, even with being mindful of his turns so as not to make you sick. 

He steps off the bike first before lifting you off, your body nearly limp as you fight sleep. However, the movement seems to wake you up and you rip the helmet off before bending over. 

Your stomach lurches as you empty your stomach, groans emitting from your throat. Every time you think it's over, another wave hits you and you're left dry heaving as every muscle in your body aches. 

JJ never leaves your side, rubbing your back in soothing motions as he holds your hair back. 

"It's okay, baby. Let it run its course, fighting it makes it worse."

By the time your stomach settles, tears are flowing down your cheeks as you gasp for air. JJ gives you a second to catch your breath before picking you up to carry you inside. 

He knows that whatever energy you had left was just sucked out of you, and he's proven right when your body flops against him like a rag doll. 

His feet carry the two of you inside, going straight to the bathroom. He sets you on the counter despite your protests and starts meandering around to grab what he needs. He goes through your skincare routine with ease, having memorized it after countless nights and mornings watching you from the shower. 

Your eyes have drifted close as your body sways from side to side, and JJ knows you're practically useless at the moment. His hand reaches around you to grab your toothbrush and toothpaste before tapping your chin with his forefinger. 

"Open."

You groan in response and his finger pulls your bottom lip until you comply, and he starts brushing your teeth. Your tongue darts around your mouth and JJ laughs. 

"Stop trying to lick the toothbrush, you weirdo. Here, spit."

He holds a cup to your mouth and you do as he says before he turns on his heel.

"Stay right there."

He walks off to find you a fresh pair of clothes but he's interrupted when he hears a thump. He drops the sweatpants in his grip and bolts in your direction, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees you. You've managed to fall to the floor, now crawling lazily in the direction of the spare bedroom. 

"Oh, baby. Come here." 

He bends down and scoops you up, carrying you the rest of the way. When he sets you on the bed, you flop back and he smiles. 

"You're a mess. Can you change?" 

Your head shakes from side to side dramatically and his cheeks start to hurt from the wide grin he's been wearing for the past hour. 

"No."

He crawls onto the bed and strips you down, careful not to jostle you too much as he slips his t-shirt over your head. The last thing he wants right now is for you to get sick again. 

You don't give him a chance to put pants on you before clambering up the bed and sprawling out under the covers. It's not the most graceful with flailing limbs and jerky movements, but it does the job. 

He changes into the sweatpants he originally grabbed for you and climbs in next to you. You instantly gravitate toward his body, and he kisses your head when you curl up around him like a koala. 

Your nose nuzzles into his neck, and he thinks his heart might just explode. 

"G'night. Luh you." You hum, and he runs his fingers through your hair the way you love. 

"Goodnight, Y/N. Love you too."

six months - j.m x gn!reader

posted april 10th, 2023 11:31 pm

i've been on hiatus for quite some time now, and my birthday was a few days ago and that inspired some writing. I finally fell down the jj maybank rabbit hole and decided to test this out, lmk if you enjoyed xx - xe <3

masterlist

wordcount: 0.6k

You didn’t think anything of it when you made it to John B’s and was greeted by JJ with nothing more than a hey and a quick kiss on the cheek. 5 minutes afterward though, when JJ followed John B out to the pogue, Kie sat by you on the couch.

“Isn’t today your anniversary?” She asked, pulling her knees to her chest. 

“Yeah, six months, why?” You watched as Pope got up and went to go catch up with the boys. 

“Are you guys doing anything for it? To be honest, I didn’t think JJ could last in a relationship this long” Kie jokes, nudging you a little while you laughed.

“No, I don’t think so, I mean, I didn’t plan anything. I don’t know I guess it just flew by so fast it doesn’t feel like its been that long you know?”

And besides, you always thought that six months isn’t even that impressive. Not for you and JJ anyway, he was already your best friend before you got together, now it just felt like he was your best friend who got kissing privileges. 

“Do you think JJ is planning anything?” you shrugged in response. 

It didn’t seem very JJ to do something for an anniversary 

But just maybe a little part of you hoped he had. Or that he’d at least mention it sometime tonight.

Kie stood up, making a comment on how long it was taking the boys to come back just as the three of them came into sight. 

“Hey, what took you guys so long-” you were cut off by John B.

“We have to go get some supplies to clean the pogue,” You gave him a confused look before responding, “Clean the pogue? I don’t even think I’ve seen you hose it down before.” 

Pope piped up, “It’s filthy, here take this rag and go start wiping down the outside,” he tossed you a grease-covered green rag as John B grabbed his key and signaled for Kie and Pope to follow him.

You saw Kiara nod at JJ before she smiled at you and followed the two boys as they rushed to the old van. 

“The fuck’s that about?” You asked, standing up and making your way to your boyfriend.

“No idea but it looks like we got stuck with the outside job,” You looked at JJ, even more confused than before.

“What? You’re actually gonna listen to them?” 

“The pogue is practically our safe haven, good to treat her nice by keepin’ her clean.” You scoffed in response, giving JJ a lighthearted glare before he laughed. “C’mon,”

Reluctantly, you followed him to the pogue, playing with the dirty rag in your hand as you walked, occasionally hitting his shoulder and laughing at how he’d tried to grab it from you.

As the boat you spent so much time on came into view, you noticed it looked completely different. 

“What the hell?” JJ smiled in response before turning to face you and opening his arms in a “Ta-da!” form.

Inside the pogue was an old picnic blanket from John B’s porch, Kie’s cooler, and some fake candles scattered around the boat. 

You pouted, looking back at JJ to see him still smiling proudly. “Happy anniversary, mama” 

“Did you guys just do this?” You asked, staring in awh of the setup.

“Yeah, you like it?” “course, I do, I didn’t think you’d want to do something like this,” JJ furrowed his brows at you before throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Seriously? I’ve been spoken for, for 6 whole months, that’s a new record for me” You laughed in response before asking, “What’s in that cooler?” 

Once again that ever so proud smile returned to his pretty face before he happily told you he and Kie made sandwiches and John B stuffed the cooler with beer. 

“So it’ll be just us, on the pogue, all night?” you asked, stepping inside the boat and watching as JJ copied your actions. 

“All night, baby.”

Mornings with JJ are always special. If you're not a morning person you don't always get up with him for his morning surf but that doesn't matter because by the time he comes back with seas-salt laced skin and a smile on his face, you're up and starting breakfast. The two of you move around the kitchen like clockwork, making pancakes or bacon and eggs, whatever takes your fancy that morning. The slightly busted radio on the windowsill plays good music and you both sing along. When the food is ready, you take it out to the porch to eat and watching the last bit of sunrise. You'll never pass up an opportunity to sit in his lap once your food is finished so he can rest his chin on your shoulder and the two of you can soak up the calming atmosphere.

big john

k. just thinking ab big john being the biggest jj + u shipper ever. like when you and jj meet him together when you find out he’s not dead, you tell him everything.

“so, john b tells me he’s married. what about you, girl?” your dad asks you.

you are seated next to jj, so you try not to look at hip and only give him a bit of a side eye. “there’s a boy.”

“who? who is it, dove?”

you shrug and look at jj. “‘m sitting right next to him.”

your dad’s eyes light up and he stands, assaulting jj’s back with pats. “i knew it!! remember when you two were little and i would—”

you’ll tell him how it happened and when the conversation’s over, bj will whisper in jj’s ear and say, “break her heart, big guy, and i’ll break your neck.”

jj swallows—he knew big john too well to think he wasn’t being honest.

jj being on hair duty for all the kids while you’re cooking breakfast, and he has his spray and brush in hand while he does the boys hair, then he’s just like “pigtails today for my miss maybank?” and she just squeals because she can’t even talk

so sweet n domestic luv it :,) dad!jj, children are a boy and girl.

he’d come beaming down the stairs with his usual dimpled grin, what’s not to adore about the family that he’d hoped for. dressed for work, acquiring a job that has him working with his hands, perhaps a mechanic. the thick material, hugging his bulky body so tightly.

you are the first to receive his good morning greeting, from behind of course. breakfast on the stove, yet all he could do was breathe in the scent of the otherworldly being in front of him. feeling it flood his airways, with a sensation of relief and calamity.

“morning baby,” he’d mumble into the deepest nook of your neck, fingers gliding evenly over the surface that was your hips. "so pretty," he complimented, despite the nest of tousled tresses on your head and the sleep still ridden in your features. peppering repeated kisses to your temple. really, though is was his way of buttering you up before evenly snatching a piece of bacon of off the plate, knowing full well the rule was everyone eats together.

"jj, put it back!"

the piece of meat hangs from his mouth, with hands lifted in innocence before he slaps a serene smack to your ass causing a fit of laughter from the two children behind him. oldest, aka jj's shadow— the three year old boy, who idolized his father as though he could do no wrong. youngest, the girl reigning in at one. sat close to the island on their bar stools, waiting partially impatient by their plates for food.

"you two better stop laughing before you end up in time out with him, now get on hair duty, maybank."

"yes ma'am!"

every occurrence that its jj's turn to tame the children's hair he always looks at it in a foreign matter. because he doesn't manage his, priding on the fact that "water works wonders for his hair." the baby's thin bright blonde locks were growing so much so that recently her hair can go up, he misses the days when he could just brush it and be done. but you insist it has be styled. he maps out the the hairstyle excessively, his large hand almost suffocating the little pink brush.

"hm what'll be today sweet girl? pigtails today for miss maybank?"

peering over your shoulder from the stove an ear to ear smile is plastered on her alike dimpled features. and she simply can't contain it, so overbearing with affection for her father that this little gesture is erupting a fit of squeals from her lungs. somehow growing more and more honored with everytime jj touched her head, it was as if she thought she was in the presence of royalty.

"she loves it, j," you grin back at her, whilst a delighted smirk is on jj's face.

"course, she does baby look who's doing it," he curves the brush the form one half of the hairstyle. "momma's not a pro at this like daddy huh princess?"

you shake your his in disbelief as he just always has something pest like to say.

"me next dad!" the boy clapped his hands, cheering for jj.

fascinating new thing (fic)

jj maybank x fem!kook!shy!reader | the music the band plays in this are songs by beach bunny (that's the music style i envisioned for the reader) - check them out!

content warning: drinking & drug use; anxiety & anxiety attacks

word count: 18k. (the definition of a slow-burn, so just hang in there, okay?)

Blurb: after your band plays a show at kiara's parents' restaurant, you find yourself face to face with jj maybank. shy and socially awkward, you fumble through, knowing that a guy like jj would never want a thing to do with you, right?

“I don’t understand you,” Kiara says. She’s perched atop one of the speakers.

“What’d you mean?” you ask from where you kneel on the floor. You’re detangling wires.

“When you met my parents, I could barely get your name out of you. But now I find out you enjoy singing to a crowd of strangers in your spare time?”

You laugh, shrugging.

“I mean, if I was shy, I think my worst fear would be singing to a group of anybody – let alone strangers,” Kie tells you with a chuckle.

“I guess it’s cause I’m in my element when I’m singing and stuff. I feel calm,” you think aloud.

You’d never really thought of it that much. Performing music always came easy to you. Talking to people, not so much.

The wires finally unknot and you go about plugging them into the correct amps. Kiara had offered to help you and your band set up before your gig. It was at The Wreck – her parents gracious enough to let you guys play – and Kie, being your friend for just over a year, was all for it.

You’d met at school when she transferred to (what she proclaimed as) Kook Academy. Kie felt as if she didn’t fit in, away from the Pogues and amongst the snobs. You felt like an outsider too. Making friends never came easy to you. Your shyness got in the way and made you clam up. The good first half of your years at school were spent having panic attacks during breaktime and hiding behind the sheds to eat lunch alone. One day you made your usual journey there to find Kiara, sat crying. You’d struck up your best attempt at conversation, sympathising immediately. She confided in you about missing her old school, and how this ‘bitch’ Sarah Cameron had started a rumour and ditched her. You nodded through it and offered up eating lunch together, which soon turned into hanging out after school, and overtime Kie pulled you out of your shell. That was when you told her about your band.

The only reason you’d managed to find your band was from the school counsellor’s insistence that you join an extra-circular. When you meekly confessed that you liked playing music and writing songs, she’d thrust you into band practice. Seriously: she literally escorted you there. Benny, who played drums, and Pansy, who played guitar, were your first friends. Pansy had an effervescent charm to her; naturally outgoing but not intimidating. Strangely, she was easy to talk to. Non-judgemental and non-pushy. Never asked you the age-old question ‘how come you’re so quiet?’ Benny was a little like you and it was as if the two of you clocked each other and decided to stick it out. Over time, you both opened up, with Pansy’s assistance of course. The bassist was someone Pansy met (and probably cornered) at a kegger, named Mike. Aloof and mysterious, you spent a great deal of your time wondering if he liked you and a greater deal wondering who he was. Finally, with you on vocals, the band was formed. Pansy lovingly named it The Wallflowers, in your honour.

As soon as Kie found out, she insisted on having you play at The Wreck. All of that led up to today, with the show due to start in two hours.

“I’m so excited to hear you guys play,” she grins. “I can’t believe it took you so long to tell me you were in a band.”

“Just never came up,” you chuckle, standing up. “How many people do you think’ll come?”

“Maybe fifty or so? Dad posted about it on the Facebook page and I put up some posters.”

Your stomach drops. “Posters?”

Kie jumps off the speaker. “Only around the cut! None at Kook Academy, don’t worry.”

The panic eases somewhat with her clarification. You weren’t exactly enthused to have some of your classmates, who seemed to find pleasure in teasing your quietness, coming to see you play. Your band was like your safe spot: where you could express yourself. Pansy practically had to prise the songs you’d written out of your hands at the first practice.

As if summoning her by thought, the afro haired girl waltzes into the restaurant, guitar case slung over her shoulders. “I can’t believe I haven’t been here before! This place is hella cute, Kie!”

“Thanks,” Kiara smiles.

Pansy hops onto the small make-shift stage you’d borrowed from the school’s music department, looking around the room as if she’d conquered the land.

“Yeah, yeah. This’ll do nicely.”

“This your lots’ first gig?” Kiara wonders as she gets up to get you all drinks.

“Nah. We’ve done a couple at my uncle’s bar,” Pansy replies. “Benny managed to get us this thing at a fundraiser too, last month.”

“It’s nice trying somewhere new though,” you say. Pansy nods enthusiastically.

“Especially somewhere this cute!”

Kiara laughs, walking back over with three cups balanced in her hands. You and Pansy take one each and have a sip. Fresh lemonade; perfect for the April weather warmth.

“When’s Benny and Mike getting here?”

“Mike’s hitching a lift with Benny. Said they’ll be about ten minutes or so,” Pansy replies.

She puts down her cup and shrugs off her guitar case. Unzipping it, she retrieves her ‘baby’. You’re surprised she doesn’t start gushing over how beautiful she is. You and Kie keep chatting about how schools nearly finished for the year as Pansy sorts out the cables and amps for her electric guitar. She then props it on the stand.

Just as she said they would, Benny and Mike walk into The Wreck just under ten minutes later. They’re both wheeling in drum pieces. Mike dashes out to grab his bass from the van. You move to help Benny set up his drums.

“You borrow your dad’s van again?” you ask him.

He nods. “Surprised he isn’t making me pay for gas.”

As you sit back on your haunches, screwing in one of the bolts for the kick drum, Benny looks at you. “You look nice, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you smile, not looking away from your handy work.

“New shorts?”

“Nah. Had them a while.”

“Oh. Well, they look nice.”

Benny lingers a moment longer, as if he might say something else, but then must think better of it and goes back to fixing the hi-hat.

“You nervous for tonight?”

“Not more than usual. I know I’ll be fine once we start playing,” you reply.

As the two of you finish setting up the drumkit, you glance off to see that Pansy has trapped Kie in some intense discussion about crystals. You knew it was risky introducing the two of them: two astrology girlies are a deadly combination. Mike sits off to the side, tuning his bass. The speaker’s on and it echoes around the room.

“Sounding groovy,” Kiara’s dad calls from the doorway of the kitchen.

Kie groans. “Dad, nobody says groovy.”

“Well, I do,” he says, winking at her. She rolls her eyes lovingly. “Think it should be a good crowd tonight, guys. Excited to hear you play.”

Pansy beams at him. “Thanks! We’ve been practising like mad for it!”

“Yeah. Pansy didn’t give us much of a choice,” Mike sardonically grins, making everyone laugh.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you!” Kiara says your name to catch your attention. “You remember me telling you about my friends, John B and all that? They’re coming too.”

“They are?” you ask, nervousness spiking.

She nods. “They’re super excited to meet you.”

There must be clear panic on your face because her enthusiasm evens out into a calming smile. “Hey! Don’t worry. They’re super chill.”

“Kie, no offense, but from some of the stories you’ve told me, they don’t sound super chill,” you mumble, going back to fixing another part of the drum into place.

“I mean they’re non-judgemental. Especially Pope. He’s a little weird too. Uh, no offence.”

“Offence,” you reply, though you smile when you do.

Kie calling you weird doesn’t bother you. Any other Kook at school doing it though, and you’d probably burst into tears.

“It’s alright. I’ll just sneak you out after the gig in a suitcase like they do with Taylor Swift,” Benny whispers to you. You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Great plan. Not obvious at all.”

The rest of the set-up goes to plan. After an hour, the instruments are plugged in and tuned up. Mike and Pansy have practised the bridge to one of the songs about twenty times, making your head begin to pound. Kiara’s dad has elicited Kie’s help in the kitchen with making the buffet-style meal. Their working was to do a pay-for-it-all sort of method: a set price of ten dollars per plate, loaded up as full as you want. Seconds and thirds were another five dollars. It seemed the best way to take orders without interrupting the gig. Kie’s mum comes to prepare the drinks. Bowls of punch for the kids and teens, and beers and cans for the adults.

By the time it comes close for you guys to play, the room is beginning to pack. You sit on the side of the stage, mostly hidden by one of the amps, with Pansy acting as an unofficial barrier for anybody who tries to talk to you. She’s glad to answer any questions, quickly diving into stories about the band name and the songs and whatever else comes to mind. Mike chimes in too, also rather extraverted, and you and Benny cower in the back like lost children in a shopping mall searching for their parents.

There’re the nerves before you play – like always – but the calmness of knowing that as soon as the first chord is strummed, it’ll fade out. You seem to slip into a corner of your brain when you guys play your songs. Like nobody can touch you or judge you. You’re almost able to fully let go.

“You guys ready?” Kiara’s dad asks, walking over to your foursome.

Nope. Nerves are back and in full force. Maybe you’ll throw up right here right now, and they’ll have to call the whole thing off.

“Hell yeah!” Pansy exclaims. She probably thinks she’s talking for all of you.

Kiara’s dad steps onto the stage and goes to the microphone, flicking it on. It buzzes to life, the noise catching people’s attention, and when he taps on it to make sure it’s working, the conversations naturally die down.

“Alright, folks! You guys are in for a treat tonight! The grooviest band from Kildare County is here to perform!”

You see Kie groan and shake her head from the back of the room, making you laugh. It helps ease your nerves. You don’t have time to check if her friends have arrived because you’re being ushered up by Pansy.

“Let’s here it for The Wallflowers!”

The applause from the small crowd that’s gathered feels like a stadium cheering you on. Pansy jumps on stage first, grabbing her guitar, waving happily to the crowd as if she knew each of them personally and had been banking on them to come. Mike gives a casual nod as he steps up and pulls on his bass. Benny slinks behind the drum kit, flashing the briefest of smiles to the crowd.

You focus on the floor and take a quick breath in. Here we go. Then you’re stepping onto the stage, forcing your head up, plastering on a smile, and waving.

Pansy always introduces the band. You can’t bring yourself to form words at the start of the show.

“How we all doing tonight?” She loudly asks, her voice echoing through the speakers.

The crowd give another whoop and cheer. It’s mostly teenagers and young adults, with some older couples and families intermixed. You catch Kiara’s eye and feel your shoulder’s relax a little when she gives a grin and thumbs-up. There’s not enough confidence in you to look at her friends.

Pansy introduces herself then names each one of you, pointing as she goes. Finally, she declares, “We’re The Wallflowers and we’ve got some songs to play for you tonight. You guys ready?”

You don’t take in the response from the crowd. Just close your eyes and wrap your hands around the microphone, searching for the tap of Benny’s drumsticks to count you in. Wait for it. Wait for it…

Two, three, four—

The moment Pansy strums her first chord, and Mike hits his first note, your mouth opens and the words fly out, second nature, without a thought.

“Sometimes I think I see your ghost…”

The anxiety gets shoved down, suppressed by something akin to confidence, and you manage to open your eyes. Your body naturally sways to the music, hands not leaving the microphone until you reach the first chorus.

“If you’re gonna love me, make sure that you do it right. I’ll be under your window in the moonlight.”

Fingers pushing through your hair, sweeping it off your shoulders, you dance a little to the beat. Benny’s hitting, keeping you all in rhythm, and Mike’s bass thrums lowly to keep you in tune. Pansy’s grinning – you see it from the corner of your eye – as she plays her guitar. It makes you smile. Your band; a mismatched group of teens from the sweeter side of Kook Academy. You have no idea how you managed to find them, but there’s no complaints to be heard. As if sinking into the cosiest of beds after a tiresome day, you relax into the music, relax in yourself.

After the first song, it becomes easy. You feel in your element, like a bird returning from migration, and start to engage with the crowd some more. Start having them clap along to the beat when the bridge starts up for the third song. Have them jumping a little to the chorus of the fifth.

“Ain’t she great?” Pansy encourages from them after the sixth song.

The strangers who’ve accumulated to see you, now a little buzzed, applaud and whistle. You feel your face flush hot. At the back, Kiara cheers the loudest, accompanied by several guys’ voices who holler. You look over and it’s then that you meet his eyes. JJ Maybank.

The nerves hit you full force.

Oh God.

Oh God.

How the hell are you supposed to sing another song knowing that he’s watching you? That someone who looks like that is listening to you sing your stupid little love-sick, fantasy-formed songs? You knew he was friends with Kie, but you didn’t think he’d actually show up.

You consider pretending to faint, but that’ll probably be more humiliating than just powering through. To distract yourself, you duck down to take a sip of water from your bottle.

“Come on,” you whisper, closing your eyes. Just one song left, and then you’re home free and can hide under your sheets for a week. Maybe two.

“This next one is mostly me and my girl,” Pansy announces, nodding to you as you rise back to stand. “We’re gonna bring it down a minute, alright? I wanna see lots of loved up couples slow dancing, you hear?”

There’re some chuckles. You’re always in awe of how easily she interacts with the crowd. Pansy begins to pick out the melody on her strings, turning to face you. She smiles reassuringly, nodding to count you in. The anxiety melts away as the words line up ready in your head. Taking a breath, you turn back to the microphone.

“I wither within when I’m without. Baptised in sin and blessed with doubt.”

From the corner of your eyes, you see a phone torch lift into the air. Then you see more and more people do the same, until there’s a powerful white glow shining on yourself and Pansy. You let out a small, bashful giggle. Through the phones, you spot Kiara again, nodding along to the beat and swaying. She’s got an easy smile on her face. You can’t help but glance your eyes to JJ, who’s at her side. His arms are crossed over his chest, face nearly stoic, but he’s swaying too. Looks almost deep in thought. Before he can clock that you’re looking at him, you flit your eyes back to the wall.

“There’s always someone, I’m tryna live up to. I can never get to you. You always seem closer, in the rear view…”

As the song goes on and your voice sings out, your eyes slip shut again. You sink into the words and let your mind drift into thoughts of romance and love. It had never been all that present in your life. Talking to strangers in the chance that they might be your friend was terrifying enough; if you find them attractive, then it’s game over. You practically become mute from nerves. That left you pretty lonely, romantically and otherwise. Besides, guys didn’t tend to go for girls who could barely spit out a sentence in a group project and are as often seen at a kegger or house party as a dodo bird. At least, not the type of guys you liked.

The ending of the song starts to build; Mike picks out a steady beat on his bass. You slowly begin to clap on every other beat. Gradually, the crowd joins in as the melody from Mike continues. Once enough people have joined, you decide to pick up the lyrics.

“You love me. I love you. You don’t love me anymore, I still do. I’m sorry. I’m trying. I hate it when you catch me crying.”

One the final lyric, Benny’s joining in, Pansy in tow. The big finish arrives, the crowd stopping their clapping to whoop and bash their heads to the heavy beat. You repeat the lyrics again, finding your grin once more at the sight of everyone having fun (save for some dwellers and shoe-watchers on the outskirts).

“I hate it when you catch me crying.”

The song comes to an abrupt end. Pansy lets her last note ring out. When the crowd cheers and applauds, you laugh bashfully into the microphone, your face so hot that you worry it might explode.

“Thank you,” you manage out with a smile.

“We’ve been The Wallflowers! Follow us on Spotify and Instagram! Good night!” Pansy shamelessly promotes, waving with both hands in farewell.

You take an awkward bow, Benny waving nervously from behind the drum kit, and then Kiara’s dad is flicking on the main lights. The chatter of the crowd soon kicks up now that you guys are done playing, and Kie’s dad switches back on the usual playlist that buzzes through the restaurant to fill the background’s quiet. You turn to Pansy to find her beaming, practically vibrating on the spot with excitement. She ambushes you and Mike in a group hug.

“You guys did amazing! We fucking rocked! Holy shit! We’re playing here all the time!”

You laugh at her ways, hugging her back tentatively. You’d never been the best with physical affection, which was a perfect match for Pansy, who didn’t seem capable of doing anything without a bear hug.

“It was pretty rad,” Mike agrees, nodding. Cool and calm as ever.

Benny emerges from behind the drums, shaking his head of ginger hair out of his eyes. “I think we sounded alright, yeah,” he says, smiling at you.

“Alright? We sounded fucking amazing!” Pansy screeches.

You flush with embarrassment. “I could’ve hit the note a bit better on—”

“Oh, would you guys stop it and just enjoy the moment!” Pansy berates, pulling back to mirthfully roll her eyes. “The truth is we sounded great, and you know it.”

“She’s right!” Kiara calls from below.

You turn your head and smile at her. Pansy nods in approval, pulling Mike and Benny into a conversation, as you climb down to talk to Kiara.

“You liked it?” you ask.

“Are you kidding? You guys are awesome!”

“Thanks,” you laugh, reluctant to accept the compliment.

The place is starting to fill out now that the gig and serving is done. A few people linger to chat and discuss the show, but most filter out the front and back doors. Gradually, it gets easier to hear the reggae music through the speakers.  

“You’ve gotta meet the gang before we leave! Come on,” Kiara says as your chatter about music dies down.

Before you can register her words, she’s grabbing at your wrist and guiding you outside to where the boys are loitering. Your meek protests fall on deaf ears and soon you’re face to face with the trio. Kiara announces your name proudly, as if presenting an award, and you awkwardly wave, barely making eye contact with any of them. Least of all JJ.

“Hey,” John B smiles. He has a nice smile. Friendly and warm. “I’m John B. This is Pope-”

“-You guys sounded great, by the way,” Pope says to you. You feel overwhelmed by the praise and vaguely nod in thanks, hopefully smiling as you do.

“-And JJ.”

At his name, you find yourself looking up at him. He’s taking a hit of his vape and offers you a smile, then he holds out his fist to bump yours. It takes you too long to clock what he means. By the time your fist hits his, he’s halfway retracted his own. It’s already a mess. Oh God. Maybe that spilt-beer puddle on the table is deep enough to drown yourself in.

“I liked that last song.”

You blink out of your panic-filled haze and into his eyes. “The last one?”

“Yeah. The slower one that goes all loud at the end? What’s it called?”

“Rear view.”  

He bobs his head, the silence stretching out. Say something else. When you wrote it, maybe. Before your brain can catch up to formulate anything else outside of your blunt response, JJ’s taking another hit of his vape.

“Well…It’s a good song.”

“Thanks,” you cloddishly say.

Oh God. It’s terrible. It’s painful. It’s…

“You wanna come back to the chateau and hang out?” John B wonders.

“The chateau?”

“It’s just this dumb nickname for John B’s house,” Kiara says.

“Hey!”

“You wanna?” she asks, ignoring him.

“Oh, um…”

You glance back inside The Wreck, through the window, seeing you friends chatting animatedly. Benny’s smiling, which is always a good sign. Then you look back to Kiara and her friends. The Pogues, as she often called them. Your eyes fall on JJ last. He isn’t looking at you, instead out to the distance, as if waiting to leave. Yep – you blew it. Good job.

“I’ll pass,” you say, tone apologetic. “Need to talk with my band.”

“Oh. Well, let us know if you change your mind,” Kie smiles, recovering easily.

You nod and accept her offer of a hug. Then you’re walking back into the restaurant, ungainly waving goodbye to her friends. John B and Pope wave back, and JJ nods his head at you in farewell.

As soon as you’re out of ear shot, you look down at the floor and sigh.

Whispering to yourself, you can’t help but say, “good job, me.”

~*~*~*~*~*

The fishing supply shop you’d stumbled upon was more like a shack. There was a mom-and-pops feel to it; a hand painted sign that creaked when it swung in the breeze (the lingering presence of spring, fighting to stay before summer would cast it out). You push through the door, hearing the chime of the bell, and look down at the list your dad had given you. Looking back up to the rows of goods, you feel as if everything is spelt in Spanish. Sighing, you go to start searching for the things on his list. It doesn’t help that he’s been wonderfully vague: lures, hooks, bait. You look at some of the boxes and take one down to inspect the label better. You’re pretty sure these are hooks…

“Hey, you’re Kie’s friend, right? That chick in the band?”

Assuming somebody’s talking to you, you look up, to the right, and come eye to eye with JJ. Your mouth instantly goes dry like the Sahara.

“Yeah,” you say. You’re trying to smile but it’s like the muscles in your face have gone lax. Why are you so Goddamn inept sometimes?

“I’m JJ,” he says, fixing his cap. “We met at The Wreck?”

“No, I know,” you tell him. You don’t mean for it to sound rude – merely stating a fact that of course you know who he is – but through your nerves, it sounds clipped. Like he’s bothering you.

JJ nods, a little awkward himself now. “No, yeah, of course.”

Just as you’re willing up the guts to apologise for your hopeless social skills, JJ’s filling the silence once more.

“You fish?”

“What?”

“Do you like fishing?”

What a weird question. “No.”

“Oh,” he says. He glances around. “Then…Why are you in a fishing shop?”

Oh. Yeah, duh.

“Oh, my dad does,” you say, lifting the list to show him. JJ’s eyes skim it briefly and he nods, quietly letting out an ‘ah’. “Asked me to pick some stuff up for him.”

Oh God, shut up.

“Well, this place is a pretty good spot to go for your gear,” he tells you.

“Do you fish?”

And, good job, you’ve managed to ask a normal question.

JJ smiles and it seems as if he’s relaxing into himself again. It makes you feel easier too; it’s always painful when your awkwardness rubs off on others, like the spreading of a disease.

“Yeah, I do. My whole family were fishermen and stuff. Can’t remember a time when I wasn’t fishing,” JJ says.

Whilst you prepare yourself to ask more about his family, and what sort of fishing he does, JJ’s flashing you a friendly grin and nodding down to your list.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Hope you find everything.”

“Oh. Yeah, thanks. Um, you too,” you reply.

You final have enough control of yourself to smile at him. It might be your delusions contorting your perception, but you’re sure JJ’s smile grows a bit brighter when you do.

Turning away, you go back to staring hopelessly at the box in your hand. The front is raving about the benefits of this style of hook, reeling of jargon as if trying to impress a university professor. It’s useless. Not only are your thoughts now hijacked by overthinking everything you said in that conversation, and the fact that JJ Maybank spoke to you on his own agenda; you still haven’t learnt anything about fishing in the last five minutes. You’ll just get a receipt and your dad can come back and fix whatever mess you make of this seemingly easy errand.

“You gonna buy those?”

JJ’s still there, stood at your side. He’s looking at the box from over your shoulder. You look up to him.

“Yeah?”

“Those ones are pure crap. No, no, you want the good stuff,” JJ tells you, shaking his head.

He takes the box from your hand and replaces it with another, from a higher shelf. Tapping on the cover, he begins to read off some of the hooks’ perks (who knew there could be so many?).

“I mean, they’re a little more expensive but you get more bang for your buck, you know? Those other ones’ll snap after like four days on the water.”

When he looks back into your eyes, he must see the blank look behind them. He laughs. “Just trust me on this.”

“Okay,” you say, finding a laugh.

“Here, what else’s on your list?” JJ asks, taking the scrap of paper from you.

You don’t complain. Being in his orbit feels like you’re seeing the earth from space; even if it’s just him helping you buy fishing gear, there’s no way you’re going to pass up this opportunity.

JJ keeps talking, jovial in tone, casually dropping reams of information and tips about fishing. As he starts moving around the store in search of items, you blindly follow, nodding along, though only half understanding what he’s saying. It just feels nice to hear him talk. He has a nice voice; one that easily brings a smile. There’s the strong, Carolina accent that shines through, intermixed with slang that’s robust on the cut.

“So, what band are you guys a tribute for?” JJ wonders as he inspects different wires.

“What’d you mean?”

“You know, like who’s music are you playing? I haven’t heard it before.”

“They’re originals,” you say. His head whips around, eyes wide.

“No way.”

“Yeah. I, uh, wrote the songs myself,” you admit, modest.

“You wrote them? That’s insane!”

“Well, they’re not Fleetwood Mac or anything—”

“—Well, nobody’s Fleetwood Mac, for starters,” JJ interrupts, turning back to the wires. “And not anybody can write songs. I sure as hell can’t. Fucking hopeless with words.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you laugh. You feel as if you’re inching out of your shell, the longer you talk to him.

His shoulders, strong and built, shrug under the cotton of his tee shirt. On the back, there’s an emblem: Kildare County Boating Supplies. “Born with my foot in my mouth. Never know when to shut the hell up, half the time.”

“Oh, same here.”

JJ laughs. He glances over his shoulder at you. The crinkles on his cheeks from his smile give him a boyish look of innocence. “Oh, you’re funny, huh?”

“Not usually,” you reply.

“Nah, I doubt Kie could be friends with someone who didn’t have a sense of humour,” JJ lightly argues.

He seems to have decided on a wire and picks up a box, handing it to your building pile stacked up in your arms.

“I think we got it all,” he says, checking over the list. It’s fickle how the term ‘we’ makes your heart stutter.

The two of you head to the counter, gently dumping all the items. You request two bags, knowing you’ll need as much help as you can get to lug it all home. JJ’s still lingering by you. The cashier begins to scan through the items.

“Oh, shit,” JJ mumbles, grinning. He’s looking at a pocketknife on the counter; picks it up to inspect it.

Confused, you ask, “what is it?”

“It’s the latest model,” JJ says.

“There’s different models of pocketknife?” you hear yourself ask.

JJ chuckles, still inspecting it. You notice how the cashier is eyeing him up, like he might just slip it into his pocket, then and there. He probably doesn’t catch the glare you shoot at him.

“These guys make the best ones. My dad gave me his old one and it lasted for like ten years. Damn.”

Your eyes glance down to the box he took it from, checking the price. It’s more than what you’d pay for a pocketknife, but apparently it seems to be worth the money. JJ eventually puts it back.

“That everything for you, dear?” the cashier checks.

JJ seems to take it as his cue to leave. Shoving his hands in his short pockets, he flashes you a smile and a nod.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Kie’s friend.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“Course,” JJ shrugs. He nods to the cashier in farewell, too, then heads out the door.

Looking to the cashier, who’s still waiting for a reply, then down to the box of pocketknives, you smile, overcome with an idea. After you’ve paid up and packed your bags as quickly as you can, you thank the cashier before darting out the store, glancing around for JJ. He hasn’t gone very far, walking towards the docks. You remember Kie telling you about Pope’s dad Hayward, and how he lived on the waterside, and you put two-and-two together. Before the small bout of adrenaline can leave, along with your confidence, you jog over to him, calling his name.

JJ turns around and smiles, a little confused. “You good?”

“Here,” you say, digging about in your short pocket to retrieve the knife. You hold out the pocketknife to him, hands shaking a bit. “As a thank you.”

He looks down at it. Then, he begins to frown. “Why’d you do that?”

“As a thanks,” you repeat. You’re still holding it out. Heart pounding in your ears. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. You overstepped. He was just being helpful and you made it weird, like always.

JJ scoffs, shifting his weight. He glances off to the water. Looking down at you, jaw somewhat tense, he says, “I don’t need your charity, you know?”

Frowning, you reply, “it’s not charity. It’s…A sign of gratitude, I guess?”

He eyes the knife like it might be laced with Anthrax. Okay, this is getting slightly ridiculous.

“Look, will you just take it? I’ve got no use for it, so it’ll just go to waste if you don’t,” you say impatiently.

JJ’s eyes flash up to yours. There’s a twitch in his cheek, threatening a smirk. Chuckling quietly, he reluctantly accepts the gift.

“Okay, I will. Uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, nodding. Good. That was good. The only problem is that now that you’ve done that, the interaction has come to a natural end, and you have nothing else to say to fill the gaps. “Well…Have a good day.”

Chuckling, he nods, waving you off. “You too.”

The moment your back’s turned to him; you exhale out the lingering nerves. Your smile doesn’t fade, turning almost giddy from the fleeting conversations you’d shared. It’s brought you too much joy that JJ just accepted a pocketknife off you; it’s practically pathetic. Nonetheless, you don’t berate yourself too much. Instead, you walk home, replaying the way JJ chuckled and smiled down at you when you let your patience slip.

~*~*~*~*~*

As an introvert, you’ve managed to find your way out of plenty of social gatherings. Award ceremonies? Stomach bug. Presentations? Stomach bug. House parties? You guessed it – stomach bug. Keggers? Any ideas…?

One gathering that you’ve never been able to get out of - nor have ever been able to say no to, out of guilt - are birthdays. Any sort of birthday celebration, no matter how big or how small, and you feel have to go. You almost feel like it’s your duty to. Friends were a rarity in your life, like finding emeralds and gold, and you didn’t want to risk it by making it seem like you didn’t care about someone’s special day. Even if parties made your stomach feel like it was filled with led and you barely opened your mouth in fear that you might puke with anxiety, you force yourself to any that you’re invited to.

For Pansy, it was always a house party. Some big, ridiculous do that her rich parents would throw. Streamers and themes and a hired DJ. A huge, ridiculous cake that barely got eaten and party favours that were practically insulting in price. She didn’t care all that much about it, but she was an only child and boy do rich parents like to spoil their only off-spring. It was sort of sweet though. Her parents weren’t trying to buy her affection: they genuinely did care for her, and just wanted her to have a good time. So, when Pansy’s birthday rolled around, at the beginning of June – just after school finished up for summer – you get the dreaded text:

Birthday bash on Friday night: be there or else.

A knife emoji, and then…

Love ya!

You groan and toss your head back, flopping onto the pile of pillows on Kiara’s bed. Her phone chimes a moment later and, after reading the text, she flashes you a pitiful smile.

“Pansy’s birthday party?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“It’ll be fun!”

Unconvinced. “Mhm.”

“Come on. We can get ready together and pre-drink together and get drunk together. It’ll be great.”

Easing yourself up reluctantly, you cock a brow at her. “Really?”

“Yes! It’ll be great,” she repeats, firmer as if in promise. The ding of her phone prompts her to read the second message. You watch as her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! She invited the Pogues, too.”

“Like the band?” you ask tiredly, rubbing your forehead.

You wouldn’t be all that surprised. One year her parents managed to bag ‘The 1975’ for a birthday-shoutout-video-call. Don’t ask.

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Like JJ, John B and Pope: The Pogues. Dumbass.”

Your eyes shoot open.

JJ.

Hoping to sound nonchalant, you watch Kie type away on her phone as you ask, “well, you don’t think they’ll wanna go though, right? I mean, didn’t you say they hate Kooks?”

There’s the telling whoosh noise that a text has been sent. She looks up at you and shrugs. “They probably will. They might hate Kooks but they love open bars.”

Great. No, yeah, that’s great. You’ll run into JJ again and the conversation will be doubly as awkward and you’ll make a fool of yourself, like you always do, and you’ll go drown in the pool that’s overflowing with your tears of embarrassment. No, great. That’s just—

“Great.”

The theme for Pansy’s seventeenth turns out to be 2000s. She’s dressed up as Regina George from Mean girls – the scene where she has circles cut out of her white vest top, showing through her pink bra. She sends you a picture of her costume on the night, whilst you’re at Kiara’s getting ready.

“Woah. She looks amazing,” you grin, showing the phone to Kie.

She’s sat on the bed, working on her eye make-up. Momentarily glancing away from the mirror to check your phone, she smiles and gives her mark of approval. You text Pansy back, gushing over her costume, and then follow it up with a blatant lie: so excited for tonight! Tossing your phone to the side, you look in the mirror and get back to working on your hair, portioning it in two to style it into pigtails. You’ve dressed up as one of the Powerpuff Girls. Namely, Bubbles: the sweet, quiet, innocent one. In many ways, you feel as though you are Bubbles. The costume’s fun and reminds you of childhood.

“John B just text me,” she tells you, glancing down at her phone that’s pinging away. “Says they’re still at the chateau and will probably show up later. I reckon we’ll be ready to leave for Pansy’s in ten.”

“Are all of them going?” you ask. You’re not sure what you want her answer to be.

“Yep. Even Pope,” she says.

You look back into the mirror and swallow your nerves. It’ll be fine. It’ll be great, just as Kiara promised. Reaching for your bottle of cider, you down the rest and finish getting ready.

It takes about fifteen minutes to walk to Pansy’s house from Kiara’s. The two of you start up the path towards the house. It’s impressive. Modern and ageless, with contemporary finishes and floor-to-ceiling windows on nearly every wall. Painted exuberant white, the place stands as a monument to money. There’s a fountain in the front garden and an electronically powered front gate that’s been left open for the night. The two of you head up the stairs to the front door. Music is pulsing, sneaking out the house and into the night, and you take a breath in preparation. Kie seems to notice and takes your hand, smiling and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. With that, you remind yourself why you’re putting yourself through this hell. Pansy’s birthday.

It's rammed and loud and overstimulating in every way. There’re couples making out on the coach and friends dancing near a speaker and two guys arguing loudly by the window. Empty cups and bottles, an abandoned bong on the coffee table (another perk of having rich parents: they let you do whatever you want). Somebody’s already passed out on the stairs, with other party goers narrowly dodging them as they rush off to the bathroom or in search of a quiet room. Kiara guides you through the house, through the kitchen, in search for Pansy. Your hand never leaves hers. The pounding of the bass is so loud that it’s hard to tell what’s your heartbeat and what isn’t.

You spot Mike first. He’s lent on the counter of the island, chatting to a girl you don’t recognise.

“Hey, Mike,” you say, finding your smile from the familiar face. He looks to you and grins.

“Hey!” his low voice booms. He wraps you in a quick hug. “Wasn’t sure if you were gonna come?”

“You know me,” you smile, queasy. “Anything for Pansy.”

“Amen,” he nods, tipping his beer in approval. He greets Kie, having met her at The Wreck the other week.

“You know where Pansy is?”

“Out back, last time I checked,” he replies, nodding to the backdoor.

You thank him and drag yourself and Kie out the patio doors and into the garden. Scanning the area, you try and spot your friend. There’s people swimming in the pool, cannonballing in, and others dancing to the music. Someone throwing up. A bong being passed around. Beer pong and drinking Jenga and…It’s chaos. Keep it together.

Then, you spot Pansy. She’s lent against the shed, chatting away to a half-arsed Juno. Walking over, the moment she clocks you and Kiara, the other conversation is ditched. Throwing her arms out – already drunk and probably high – she gives a cheer of your names.

“You made it!”

“Better late than never,” Kiara grins.

You let her hug you; almost have the life squeezed out of you in the process. “Happy birthday, Pansy.”

“Damn right, it’s a happy birthday,” she grins. “Look at this rager!”

 Kiara nods in approval, taking it all in. “Having fun?”

“I am now!” Pansy exclaims. “Maybe now that you’re here, Benny’ll finally show up.”

“Benny’s here?” you ask.

“Mhm. I lost him about five minutes in, though. He’s probably hiding under the stairs, poor thing,” she says, shaking her head. Looking to Kie, she asks, “did the Pogues come along?”

“They should show up at some point,” Kie nods, smiling.

“Oh, yes! Finally, my plan can come into action!” Pansy says. She then gives a laugh that borders on psychotic.

You frown, befuddled. “Your plan?”

“My set-you-up-with-JJ plan? Only been waiting since the fifth grade,” she buzzes.

Your face drops. Your stomach plummets. All your internal organs flop out of your body and land on the floor, with your heart last.

One too many drinks in Pansy, and she casually lets slip of your biggest, most pathetic secret on earth, to none other than one of JJ’s best friends.

“What?” Kiara practically shouts. She gapes at you.

Pansy’s face quickly switches from excitement to dread, as her brain seems to catch up. “Wait…Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”

“Nope,” you say, through gritted teeth.

Hold it together. Hold it together.

“JJ?” Kiara checks. She’s staring at you as if you’ve just done an Irish jig.

You don’t reply. Not sure you can. You swallow thickly and stare down at the floor.

Then, scarily calm, you say, “I think I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Neither of them stops you – Pansy already distracted and Kiara practically in shell-shock – and you slink back into the house. You grab the first thing you find (another bottle of beer) and frantically search for a bottle opener, cracking it open. Downing half of it, you look around for Mike. He’s not where he was stood before. You have no idea where the hell to even start looking for Benny. You finish the bottle and then look for another. In the process, you decide that having a shot of vodka might be alright and take a swig or two right from the bottle. Okay, maybe a little more than a shot.

There’s a hand on your arm, tugging, and it catches your attention.

“There you are!” Kiara sighs in relief. “Look, it’s okay that you have a crush on JJ. If anything, it’s better than okay! It’s kinda sweet! I just wish you’d told me—”

“Kie, please, stop,” you say, shaking your head. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, alright? Pansy didn’t mean to say that. I don’t…It’s not even true!”

She pulls a face as if to say ‘yeah, right’ but doesn’t argue. “Well…If you ever wanna talk about it—”

“--I really don’t—”

“--But if you ever do! You can, alright?”

She means it. You can hear it in her voice and see it on her face. Sighing, you nod. She smiles at that.

“Look, I’m not gonna tell him, okay? I would never do that,” she assures you. You smile, nodding once more. Your stomach feels like a mosh-pit.

“Good. Now, come on! I promised you a great night and I meant it.”

Kiara ropes you into a game of drinking Jenga. At some point, Pansy joins, then Mike. After three rounds – and two shots to get out of doing dares – you begin to feel weird. It’s then that you realise, as the world becomes fuzzy and your thoughts start to mush, that all the alcohol you’ve been necking is hitting at once.

Oh no.

You excuse yourself to go find the bathroom, hoping to have a moment to pull yourself together, and despite Kiara’s instance you tell her not to follow. You just need a moment alone to calm down your heartrate. Why does it suddenly feel like it’s going to beat out of your chest now? You’ve been to Pansy’s house plenty of times before, but you suddenly feel lost. People are crammed into every room like sardines, all of them strangers, and you can’t grasp your bearings. The alcohol isn’t helping, nor the panic, and the longer your search for a bathroom or an empty space, the more you feel like the walls are closing in. At some point, you end up in a corridor of the house. It’s a little quieter than in the main rooms, a few bodies lining the walls, some girls sat on the floor chatting. The only light is a single bulb hanging above. At the sight of you stumbling down the hall, one of the girls must think you look as bad as you feel.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.

You nod, trying to smile, but you’re honestly not sure what expression is on your face anymore. The bathroom door is locked. No. The girl is coming up to you, maybe thinking she’s being helpful, but you hate strangers and you hate conversations and you hate parties and

Why did you come?

You’ve spoken about five words to Pansy all night! She’d understand if you didn’t; probably wouldn’t even miss you. Great. Something about that thought has tears stinging your eyes, and the random girl who’s made it her new mission in life to help you is only spurred on. She’s shushing you and it makes it all worse: you’re so embarrassed. If there’s anything you dread more than talking to strangers, it’s crying in front of them. Is this a nightmare?

The sound of your name reflexively has you turning your head. It’s JJ.

“Jesus, you don’t look too good,” he says.

Great.

His eyes flit to the girl uselessly trying to calm you down from your panic attack. He ushers her off you, half-arsedly thanking her, and then he’s guiding you from the hallway and through a door. It’s a bathroom. Maybe the door you’d been trying earlier wasn’t a bathroom? It’s all so confusing. You didn’t even know JJ was here; just assumed the Pogues hadn’t bothered showing up. You suddenly realise that you’re still hyperventilating, in front of your crush of all people, and then you remember that Pansy let slip to Kiara that you have a crush on JJ and…

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” JJ’s saying. He’s frowning at you, concerned.

You’re shaking your head, waving him off. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Sorry. I’m sorry! You can go back to the party!”

That would all be believable if you weren’t gasping out the words. JJ doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve spoken. You don’t bother to try again. The ground seems a good place to go. Solid and unmoving. You slide down the bathroom wall and gasp in air. It won’t seem to stay in your lungs, as if fighting to escape, and you start to cry.

JJ’s saying your name in a soothing voice. He’s squatting in front of you, watching as you pull your knees up to your chest. God, this is humiliating.

“We’re gonna play a game, okay?”

A game?

“Yeah, yeah. It’s called the ‘five things’ game, alright?”

“I don’t…I don’t understand…” you cry, shutting your eyes.

Playing a game is the last thing you need right now. You just need to breathe. Why can’t you breathe?

“I’ll go first, alright? I have to name five things beginning with…Gimme a letter,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You write songs, for Christ’s sake,” he laughs, tone gentle. “Come on. One letter. That’s all I’m asking.”

You sort of want him to shut up, so you scramble through your thoughts. “T.”

“Okay, alright. I have to name five things beginning with ‘T’,” JJ says.

All you can hear is your panting for a while. You feel lightheaded.

“Um…Toothbrush. That’s one. How about…”

You crack open your eyes. He’s looking around the room. You notice his cap’s abandoned on the floor. Move your eyes to his legs, mostly bare save for his shorts, and to his chest.

“Tee shirt,” you offer, breathless. JJ’s head whips around to look at you. He smiles encouragingly.

“Yeah, tee shirt. Okay, three more.”

You begin to glance around the room. Stomach still rising and falling, you try and search for something beginning with ‘T’. It’s suddenly become the most important thing in the world.

“Toilet,” you say as your eyes drift over to it. “And toilet brush.”

“Damn, you’re on a roll,” JJ chuckles. You barely manage a laugh. Your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy anymore. “Just one more.”

It’s then that you realise he’s had a hand on your knee the whole time. Rubbing slow, concentric circles on the skin. You start to focus on the feeling of it, looking down as he does it. He’s gone back to searching the room, as if he’s forgotten he’s doing it.

“Touch.”

JJ frowns, looking back to you, then following your gaze to his hand. His smile is almost shy. “Yeah, that counts. Touch.”

The panic attack has eased off. Your lungs are finally doing their job, filling with air and holding it for longer than a millisecond. Exhaling slowly, closing your eyes, you tilt your head back against the wall.

“Better?” JJ wonders.

“A little. Thank you, for helping I mean,” you say.

“Don’t mention it. I know how shit it feels. I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks,” JJ tells you.

There’s a shuffle as he moves to sit on the floor. He retracts his hand from your knee and you immediately miss the feel. Opening your eyes, you look at him with a frown.

“You have?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “John B had to calm me down almost everyday at one point. It sucked.”

“Is that where you learnt that trick?”

“Yeah,” JJ says, offering a small smile. “It’s a good distraction.”

You nod. You’ve never tried it before. Always found that you could ground yourself with your breathing, but everything out there was too much, too crazy, for you to focus. Correcting how you sit, crossing your legs (the skater skirt smoothing out over your thighs), you sigh and hang your head.

“I hate parties.”

JJ chuckles. “No kidding.”

You snort, shaking your head.

“But hey, least you look pretty though.”

You look up. There’s very little energy left in you to overthink what he’s just said. No room left to panic.

“I do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I like your costume.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. Your fingers move down to mess with the hem of your skirt.

“Who’re you meant to be?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh. “How can you like my costume when you don’t even know who I am?”

JJ laughs, after seemingly being taken aback by your outburst. “I dunno. I like that skirt on you.”

“I’m Bubbles. From the Powerpuff Girls,” you tell him as your laughter dies down.

Realisation flashes across his face as quick as a comet darting through the sky. “Oh! Oh shit, of course!”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Hell yeah!” JJ grins. “Mojo Jojo was my favourite character as a kid!”

“Ugh, he’s iconic,” you groan happily, tossing your head back.

“That one episode, when he gets told off by the professor,” JJ reminisces excitedly.

“I loved that one!”

The two of you laugh.

“Who’re you meant to be?”

“Um…Well, I didn’t get the memo it’s a costume party,” he admits with a wince, smiling.

“You could say you’re from…The Hangover?” you offer after a moment’s thought.

JJ cringes. “That might be worse than just saying I forgot to wear a costume.”

You laugh, nodding. “True.”

There’s a brief moment where the two of you just look at one another, smiling contently. You always knew JJ was pretty (as Pansy so graciously revealed to Kie earlier), but up close, under the white light of the bathroom, he’s gorgeous. A cute smile, shining eyes. The most perfect jawline that you could write reams of songs about just on its own.

“Think this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me,” JJ points out.

Your smile turns solemn, nodding. When you reply, you talk quietly, as if revealing a secret.

“I’m not very good at talking to people.”

“Can I ask you a question, then?”

“Mhm.”

“Why’d you come to this house party? Doesn’t really seem to be your scene,” JJ asks.

Nodding, affirming his theory, you shrug and look down at his feet. He’s wearing black boots, shiny and heavy.

“It’s Pansy’s birthday, and she’s always been a big birthday fan. She’s one of my closest friends and she’s always there for me; always has my back. So, I figure, I can hack one night of the year at a stupid, over-the-top party for her. And usually I can…But I guess, I just couldn’t tonight.”

As you finish talking, you lift your head to take in JJ’s reaction. He’s nodding, a small smile still on his face.

“You’re a good friend.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You are,” he affirms. Your face goes warm and you shrug. Laughing, he adds, “you’re also shit at accepting compliments. I noticed that when we first met after your gig.”

You chuckle. Looking up to the ceiling, you feel your confession bubbling out of you, likely driven by the alcohol. “Yeah, well, all what I remember after the gig is thinking that you didn’t like me.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” you say, chuckling in self-deprecation. You meet JJ’s eyes, see the confusion shining in them. “You sorta seemed uninterested to talk to me. Which is fine, I figured you would be. But after the fishing shop - and now tonight - I’m starting to think I was wrong?”

“Yeah, you’re wrong,” JJ laughs. He’s not laughing at you, though. It’s almost as if he’s laughing at himself.

He rocks his head back and nods at the ceiling, pursing his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like that, at The Wreck. It’s just…Kiara told me you were kinda quiet, before we met, and I’m kind of…not. I didn’t wanna freak you out or anything, so I tried to be more chill. Guess it had the opposite effect though.”

There’s a selcouth feeling in your body when JJ speaks. It’s like something in your chest lurches. In your stomach, there’s a feeling like the butterflies you get before a show, but they’re sweeter and gentler, as if calming down in preparation to cocoon. As if the nerves are fading and you’re desensitised.

He looks back down at you, right into your eyes, and you wonder if he can see into your thoughts. If he can see how much you like him.

“Well, I think we’re friends now, so, no hard feelings,” you tentatively say. JJ cracks a smile, nodding.

“Yeah. We’re friends,” he assures you.

Strange, how something that you thought would bring you so much joy only makes you feel a little bit worse than before.

~*~*~*~*~*

It’s dark in the chateau, the kitchen counter only illuminated by a single orange-hued lamp. You’re halfway measuring out some sugar when you think you hear a noise. The creak of a floorboard. Frowning, you hesitantly start towards the corridor, where the sound’s coming from. Maybe something got in the house? A raccoon?

JJ rounds the corner the same time you do, almost bumping into you. He lets out a yelp and grabs at his heart, the same time you jump back about ten feet.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, laughing. “You scared the shit outta me.”

“Sorry,” you smile in apology (as if he hadn’t made you almost crap yourself too).

“Thought you were Big John’s ghost or something,” JJ mumbles, rubbing at his face tiredly.

You frown, walking back to the counter where you’d previously been. “Are you saying I look like John B’s dad?”

“No you- That’s not – You look very womanly-”

He cuts off his rambles with a sigh, shaking his head as he laughs at himself. Running his fingers through his bedhead, he seems to come to a realisation that you’re not usually at the chateau.

“Wait? What are you even doing here? It’s late.”

“Went surfing with Kie. Got tired, took a nap on the pull-out, woke up about ten minutes ago,” you explain, keeping your voice soft as to not wake-up John B.

“Can’t fall back asleep?” JJ asks.

“Wide awake.”

“Damn. Hate when that happens. How come you’re in the kitchen?”

“Thought I’d make brownies,” you shrug. You pick up the box of cocoa powder and the bag of flour, showing them to JJ. “You guys have all the ingredients.”

“God, brownies sound so good right now,” JJ moans, tossing his head back.

Laughing, you go back to measuring out flour with a cup. JJ goes to the fridge. The white light shines bright on his face. There’s the indent of the pillow on his cheek. His eyes are squinting against the light, a little bleary from sleep.

“Come to think, the last time I had brownies, they were these amazing edibles,” he says as he searches for something to take.

“Oh? Were they good?”

“So good,” he says. JJ grabs a carton of juice and hops onto the far counter to sit, taking swigs.

“I probably have enough stuff to bake a batch of edibles too, to be honest,” you offer after a moment’s thought. Looking to him, hands dusted with flour, you ask, “you got enough to spare?”

“Hell yeah!” JJ grins.

Ever since you and JJ bonded at the party, you feel as though there’s been a barrier removed. He isn’t as scary as you thought he would be. Easier to talk to than you imagined.

“I’ve always kinda wanted to try them,” you admit.

“Wait, have you ever smoked before?”

You chuckle down at the bowl, then sarcastically ask, “What do you think?”

“Really?” JJ gapes. “I thought you’d be all for it. It’d probably help you relax and stuff…”

He almost cuts himself off, as if trying to reel in his words. “I…I mean…”

You can’t help but glance to him, face serious as you deadpan, “what do you mean? I’m like the most laid-back person ever.”

JJ’s crystal-clear panic that he’s genuinely offended you has you breaking your façade with a quiet laugh.

“I’m joking. I’m probably the most high-strung person ever. Feel like weed was kinda made for me.”

JJ laughs too, giving a small sigh of relief.

“I’m kinda curious to see what you’re like high,” he tells you.

“Me too. Hopefully it doesn’t have me bouncing off the walls,” you say.

“Nah. That’s coke that’ll do that to you. Hard to imagine you on coke.”

“You tried it?” You wonder, non-judgemental as you ask.

JJ shrugs. He has another swig of juice. The muscle tee he’s wearing hangs lose on his built frame.

“Once or twice. My dad’s sorta a junkie though. Put me off, you know?”

“Shit. I’m sorry,” you softly reply.

JJ hadn’t mentioned his family a lot, but neither had you and neither does anybody. You’d heard the passing news of JJ’s dad being involved in some sort of pharmacy robbery in the county for Oxytocin, but never dug about. It wasn’t any of your business, and the malicious world of medicine and addiction wasn’t some black and white picture like the Kooks at school liked to paint it out to be.

Shrugging it off, clearly not in the mood to get into it, JJ asks, “was that fishing stuff you got for your dad useful?”

“Yeah,” you say. You’ve started on the wet ingredients now: cracking eggs into a measuring jug. “His exact words were, ‘I never knew you had such a gift for fishing’. I think I’m gonna become his fish-fetching-bitch now.”

JJ barks out a laugh. “You know, I never expected you to be funny.”

You roll your eyes as you begin to fold the wet ingredients into the dry. “I’m not.”

“You are. You’re also cute when you bake.”

“Can you not compliment me?” you nervously chuckle. “It makes me uncomfortable. Not cause of you, it’s just…I’m not good with the complimenting thing.”

“Too late. It’s my life’s mission to get you to actually accept a compliment without going all-”

You catch him do an overemphasised impression of you becoming flustered. You scrunch your nose in light-hearted disapproval. He grins at you as he snaps out of the character.

“-You know?”

“Well, I hope you’ve got a long life,” is all you say. “Wanna grab the goods?”

JJ hops off the counter with newfound fever, making you laugh. When he returns, he stands beside you, juice carton ditched to the side. He smells like soap and weed and smoke from the bonfire. You go to grab the plastic bag from him but he pulls it out of reach, looking down at you in disapproval.

“What?”

“This is Kildare’s finest bud,” JJ scorns. He gently places it in your hand. Cupping your fingers around it, he envelopes your hand with his. His touch is warm. “You gotta treat it with care. It’s the meaning of life itself.”

“I thought the meaning of life was enlightenment,” you mumble, distracted. You’re pretty sure your heart might beat out of your chest.

“Meh. Depends who you ask.”

He takes his hand off yours and let’s you open the bag. The smell of marijuana hits, full force. Before you go to mix it in, you need to check the brownie base is up to scratch. You’ve been perfecting your recipe for years. Dipping in a finger, you suck it clean, debating the flavour. Unsure, you grab for the spatula and scoop some batter up, holding it out to JJ without thinking. You’re a little surprised to catch him staring at you.

“Wanna try?”

For once, JJ doesn’t say anything. Just takes the spatula and has a lick. His eyes widen. “Oh my god. That’s so good.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s amazing.”

“I’ve made better,” you find yourself saying, and maybe he has a point about the whole compliments’ thing…

You tip in some of the bud as JJ finishes licking the spatula clean.

“You’re like a triple thread, aren’t you?” JJ says.

As you mix, moving to prop the bowl against your waist, cradled in your arm, you frown.

“A triple thread?”

Listing with the spatula, he says, “She can bake, she can sing—”

“—she’s socially inept,” you sarcastically finish.

“You’re not socially inept,” JJ says. When he dips the spatula back in for a second taste, you don’t bother fighting back. “Just a little quiet, is all.”

“No, no, I’m like a lost cause,” you chuckle. “I’m fine with it, for the most part. I just don’t like not knowing what people are gonna ask me. I get all nervous, thinking I’m gonna make a fool of myself or something. It all just snowballs until it’s easier to just…not try.”

JJ nods, listening, licking the plastic utensil clean.

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s good that you’re a quiet person. Helps balance out the world,” he offers.

“How’d you mean?”

“Like, I’m one end of the spectrum, yeah?” He gestures wildly to one side of the kitchen. “And then you’re the other.”

His theatrics create an imaginary continuum. He lists his friends, labelling them on this make-believe spectrum, doing it in such a way that has you laughing at his antics.

“Think people sometimes forget being quiet isn’t the same as being boring,” JJ thinks aloud.

You smile. It’s a nice way to summarise it. You’re not a rock: you enjoy spending time with friends and you have hobbies and interests. When you feel in control of the situation, you can even tolerate crowds. But when you don’t speak a lot, loiter around at parties or keggers, and get nervous to read in front of a class, people make an assumption that you’re dull. There’s not much coming out of your mouth so there can’t be much going on in your head. It’s almost a relief to hear from JJ, of all people, that not everybody thinks that way. Makes your heart do funny things, as if he didn’t already have enough power over your emotions.

JJ leans in to take one more scoop from the bowl. As he does, his shirt slips forward enough for you to catch a glimpse of a hickey on his collarbone. Fresh purple, not yet bruising. It hurts more than you expect it to. A clear-cut reminder of who he is, and who you’re not, and who you never will be. That JJ sees you nothing more than a friend – Kie’s friend – and that he’d never look your way because…Well, because why would he?

You distract yourself by looking back down into the bowl, continuing to mix.

The two of you finish preparing the brownies and set them to cook in the oven. As you wait, you sit on the opposite counter to him, falling into a conversation about surfing and snacks. He’s fighting for justice for peanut-butter jelly sandwiches whilst you’re battling for the recognition of Nutella sandwiches. It’s easy and comfortable, and as the sun slips into view through the window – its rays chasing up the floorboards – the brownies cook and cool, and you do your best to enjoy the moment and not think about the hickey on his chest.

~*~*~*~*~*

Now that summer had begun and school had ended, it felt the days stretched on for miles. Light mornings and lighter nights. Good weather near daily. The odd hurricane warning and occasional storm to give the water a drink, and then back to beauty. You decided not to waste a minute of it. Most days were spent with you band, writing songs and practising for gigs. Pansy was constantly on the search for new shows and venues that would let you play. Kiara’s parents were already talking about letting you guys do another gig at The Wreck. Benny had taken it on to try and teach you how to play the drums, even though it was halfway hopeless. It meant that you’d been hanging out at his house a lot more. You didn’t mind; liked his company.

Kiara had you hanging out with the Pogues near daily too. You’d become a regular at the chateau, with Pansy sometimes tagging along, and had felt more and more comfortable around all the guys. Especially JJ. Whatever awkwardness that used to linger between the two of you had mostly vanished. He didn’t seem to hold back anymore; being his usual, effervescent self. ‘Young, dumb and broke’, Kie dubbed him.

“Hey, are you listening?” Benny asks you from behind the drum kit.

You look up from your phone, having read a text from Kie. We’ll be at Benny’s in five minutes.

“Just replying to Kie,” you tell him. “I’m going surfing with the Pogues.”

“Surfing? Since when did you like surfing?”

“Since this summer,” you shrug, pocketing your phone. You get up from your spot on the floor and walk around the drum kit, standing by his side.

Benny practised in his garage. His dad had soundproofed the place. Today was a hot one, leaving you no choice but to open the front shutter. The picture-book street he lived on was mostly empty, asides from the odd couples walking their dog or a kid flashing by on their bicycle.

You glance down at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Play it again?”

He smiles up at you and begins to play a beat, lips flattening in concentration. You smile as you watch him play. Some people are born musicians. They have a gift to find rhythm, can escape within it. Benny was one of those people. For someone so quiet, you found it funny how he settled on choosing the loudest instrument.

You nod your head to the beat. Shouting over the kick-drum, you say, “it sounds good! Think Pansy’ll find a good riff for it?”

“I’m more excited to hear your lyrics,” he loudly returns.

Coming up with lyrics hadn’t been any problem as of late. Your inspiration had never been more fruitful, for good and for bad, all thanks to a certain blonde haired boy.

He finished the repetitive rhythm, ending with the hi-hat. As he looks up at you, shaking his ginger hair off his damp forehead, he smiles.

“Your hair looks pretty today,” he tells you.

You take your hand from off his shoulder to touch at it, as if on reflex. “It does?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Thanks,” you say, smiling. “You don’t look to bad yourself, for it being like one-hundred degrees outside.”

Benny’s cheeks shine pink. He looks down at the drum kit in thought. “You wanna give it a try?”

“The drums?”

“Mhm.”

“I thought we’d learnt by now that me and drums don’t mix,” you laugh, shaking your head.

Benny won’t seem to take no for an answer, shoving the sticks into your hands. “Just, give it a try. You’re good at everything.”

“Not true,” you sing-song, but oblige in taking his seat.

Joking around, you tap a beat above your head on the sticks, counting yourself in like a rockstar. Then, you’re stumbling through a simple beat, laughing at your frequent mistakes. Benny’s smiling at you – you can see it in your peripheral – and nodding along as if you’re playing like a pro.

“Yo! Didn’t know Travis Barker lives here?”

At the sound of JJ’s shout, you stop and look up, laughing.

“Yeah. The Kardashian’s are just across the street,” you joke along. Benny comes to stand behind you as the rest of the Pogues walk into the garage.

“I’d believe it. Anything’s possible in Kook land,” John B shrugs.

Pope’s sauntering behind. “You ready to go surfing?”

“Yeah. Just need to grab my bag from the kitchen,” you say.

There’s the sudden feel of Benny’s hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. He brushes some of your hair off one of them as he replies. “I’ll go grab it for you.”

Blinking away the surprise, you turn to catch a glimpse of the boy’s back as he darts into the house. That was weird.

Kiara starts talking about the waves they’ve already spotted. You move to stand, looking back to the Pogues to see that JJ’s staring at the door that Benny just went through. His hands are in his short pockets, jaw locked tight, as if he’s annoyed. That makes two weird things.

Walking over to your friends, laughing under breath at a joke John B makes, you nudge your shoulder against JJ’s bicep, hoping to lighten his mood. He looks down at you and smiles, tension somewhat fading. Benny returns with your bag, handing it to you, and you give him a wave farewell. Then, yourself and the Pogues are heading out the garage and into the banged-up Twinkie.

By the time you get to the beach, it’s late afternoon. Sunset is beginning to creep, teasing at the earth by patterning the sky with pink and orange. That doesn’t put the five of you off surfing. Instead, it’s like it spurs you on. Paddling out deeper into the waves, you hear Kiara give a small ‘whoop’ as you all turn to watch John B ride on the water. The rest of you are quick to join. You know how to surf; learnt when you were a kid. Having never had many friends, you didn’t surf all that often. But after meeting Kie – an avid surfer – and now hanging out with the Pogues, you found yourself out on the water more and more.

After an hour or so of surfing, the sky nearing dusk, you and JJ take a moment. JJ sits on his board, floating near you. You look down at your legs, kicking back and forth leisurely in the water.

“You have fun at Benny’s?” JJ asks.

You glance over to him. He’s watching the Pogues surf.

“I guess,” you shrug. “We’re working on some new stuff.”

JJ nods. His wet hair makes the highlights of blonde darker, curling slightly at the ends from the sea salt. It hangs shaggy over his face. Bare back, muscles taught, freckle-kissed from being out all day.

“Why are you acting all weird?” you can’t help but ask.

He looks to you. “I’m not acting weird.”

“Yes, you kinda are.”

“I’m not.”

“JJ, things haven’t been weird with us since the party. I don’t want them to go back to how they were before.”

“It’s not weird!”

“Look, if I did something—”

“You didn’t do anything, alright? It’s all good,” JJ insists. He nods at you, affirmingly, but you can’t shake the feeling that he’s lying.

You sigh and lay on your back on the board. Closing your eyes, you bask in the remnants of sunlight. If he doesn’t want to talk, you won’t force it. You know more than anyone how awful it feels to have words forced out of you.

The moment of bliss is interrupted by the feeling of cold, seawater splashing over you. You gasp, sitting up in shock. JJ’s laughing his ass off, hands on his chest. You glare through a smile and shake your head.

“Oh, you’re in for it, Maybank.”

His laughter doesn’t cease. He’s looking to you again, quirking a brow. “Oh, am I?”

“Uh huh,” you grin. You kick a splash at him, barely making enough to cover his legs.

“That was pitiful.”

“Shut up,” you chide.

“You Kooks can’t do anything right.”

With that, you’re jumping off your board and swimming over to his. He doesn’t have time to paddle away. You come to a stop by the side of his board and splash at him from up close, getting him perfectly in the face. He winces, laughing, spluttering out some water that seeps into his mouth.

“That’s cheating!”

You roll your eyes and grin, hoisting yourself onto his board. He starts to protest through his laughs, moving to wrestle you off, and in the process, you end up pulling him into the water with you. The two of you emerge, laughing, drenched like drowned rats. You brush your hair out of your face and wipe the water out of your eyes. When you open them, blinking past the sting of the salt, JJ’s watching you. There’s a strange look on his face, one that you think you might’ve seen before. The longer you look at him, the shadow of a smile resting comfortably on your sun-kissed cheeks, the easier you find to place it. From the gig, during the last song, when he seemed almost absent in thought.

Before you can dwell much longer, JJ seems to snap himself out of his haze. He shakes his hair of the water and pulls himself back onto his board.

“We should probably start heading back to shore,” he says.

That was weird.

You frown but don’t argue. Returning to your board, you listen as JJ hollers that the two of you are heading back to land, and then you both start to paddle. The gang soon follows. Wading out the water, carrying your board, the five of you head to where you’d dumped your stuff. JJ makes quick work of building a fire. Pope and Kiara dip into the snacks and drinks you’d brought, passing them around. You dig about in one of the bags for some water, instead coming out with a Uke. The stickers on it hint at it being Kie’s. Hanging onto it, you look around and decide to take the empty spot on the sand next to JJ. The water from your wet hair dribbles down your back. In the embers, you feel yourself beginning to dry.

JJ hands you a cider, taking the cap off using the pocketknife you bought him. You have a sip.  

“That was a pretty good surf,” Kie says, leaning back on her forearms.

Pope’s taken out his book, using his hoodie as a makeshift pillow to sit against as he reads.

“Just think tomorrow, we get to do it all again,” John B grins.

Kie clinks the neck of her bottle with his. “Here’s to that.”

Sand working as a makeshift bottle holder, you’ve taken to picking out random notes on the uke, absentmindedly tuning it.

“What you up to tomorrow?” JJ asks.

You look up at him. He’s put his cap back on; a green one, worn around the edges of the beak.

“Chilling out at home and practising, I think. Pansy managed to get us a gig at the June-Jam.”

“Wait, isn’t that kinda a big deal?” Kiara says. She must’ve been eavesdropping.

You shrug. “It’s only a fifteen-minute slot.”

“But the June-Jam Fair?”

“Yeah, folks from all over the county come out for that,” John B agrees, smiling.

“My dad’s setting up a shop there,” Pope tells you, looking up from his book. “If you guys need a snack, he’ll hook you up for free.”

“Thanks,” you smile, grateful.

“When is it?”

“Couple weeks’ time.”

“We’re coming,” Kiara declares. You chuckle, flustered and flattered at once.

“You don’t have to.”

“Well, we are, so…”

“You gonna play any of the new stuff you’ve been working on?” JJ wonders.

“Maybe,” you say. Fingers still chipping away at the strings, you shrug. “Got a few ideas that’re coming together.”

“Gonna play my favourite?”

“Of course,” you say. Rear view. He’d mentioned several times since hanging out with you how much he liked that song.

JJ sighs and moves to rest his head on your thighs. You don’t complain. Feel your heart stammer at having him so near, so comfortable in your presence. He takes his pocketknife out and begins to mess with it. The campfire light reflects off the blade as it zips in and out of sight.

John B and Kie have fallen into a conversation of their own and Pope is lost to the world of fiction.

“Why’d you like that song so much? I’ve written better ones,” you ask JJ.

He shrugs. Tips his cap over his face, as if taking a nap. “Just makes me think of things. I like the lyrics.”

“What kinda things?”

“Family things, maybe? Maybe not,” JJ vaguely replies. You hum, nodding.

You stare at the crackling fire. Small sheds of burnt up wood spit off into the air, fading away like dust, hiding into the smoke. There’s the cosy smell it churns up, tinted with the sea water that’s coated your skin. The rustle of movement has you looking back down to JJ, watching him retrieve a blunt and his lighter. He sighs. Balancing the joint between his lips, he flicks the lighter to life. On the metal of it is his carved initials. JJ. As you watch him take a drag, overcome with the smell of weed, you wonder how your life lined up in a way to end up here. Fifth grade you would have a fit if she knew you were hanging out with JJ Maybank. Hell, current you isn’t far off doing the same.

He's so effortlessly pretty. Maybe it’s because he has an aura about him that he doesn’t care what people think. Self-assured and light – all that you envy. There’s the faded colouring of a bruise on the apple of his cheek from a scruff he got into at a kegger the other night. The thought of the kegger that you didn’t attend makes your head stammer.

It seems whenever you let yourself fade into the fantasies of wondering what it might be like to have JJ as more than a friend (if he were to ever lean that way towards you), reality always finds a way to sink in. The reality that JJ is the loudest example of an extrovert, and you the spitting image of an introvert. He can pull chicks any time he wants, practically just has to look at them to have them swoon. Lies as if it’s second nature and strikes up conversations with strangers as though they’re lifelong friends. Crowds don’t make him uneasy and he can glide through a house party without needing to hide in the bathroom during a meltdown. He’s funny and charming and likeable.

But you? You spend your evenings sat in your room or on the porch, song writing, living in the safety of a daydream. Baking into the early hours of the morning and socialising with a select few individuals who had the patience to get to know you. Quiet and simple and boring. What the hell would JJ want with that?

Sighing, you hear yourself strumming out a melody. It seems to have naturally emerged from trial and error of messing with notes. You look down to watch your fingers work. There’s a melancholic undertone to the tune you’ve found, different to the one Pansy had shown you on the guitar, when the song had started to form.

Kiara and John B’s conversation momentarily dwindles at the sound of your playing. You try not to be discouraged, knowing they don’t mind the disturbance. JJ takes another hit of the bud, blowing it out and up into the air. After the chorus, you let the music fade away; the song’s only half-finished.

“That new?”

“Mhm,” you say, nodding. You’re looking at the stickers: Animal Rights in a pink, cartoon love heart…

“You’ve got the prettiest voice,” JJ quietly tells you. So quiet, you’re not entirely sure he did say it, or if you’ve contorted the murmurs of John B and Kie’s conversation, and the crackles of the fire, and the slosh of the waves, into something of a fantasy.

But, when you look down to him, he’s got this vacant smile on his face. “I’m real glad Kie introduced us.”

“Me too,” you smile.

Under his gaze, you feel how you imagine flowers do when the sun allows them to bloom. It’s a blissful rarity, to be affected by someone in such a way. Overwhelming, even. You force yourself to look away, towards the fire.

It hurts too much to stare at something you can’t have.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The June-Jam Fair comes around faster than you expect. It’s like being caught off guard like a lorry switching lanes without indicating. You only feel half prepared when you and the band are loading up Benny’s dad’s van.

“Who packed the back-up wires?” Pansy worries.

“I did,” Mike grunts, lifting one of the amps into the hold.

“Microphone stand?”

“Got it,” you say, sliding in a box of electronics.

“Okay, then, I think that’s everything,” she mumbles.

She’s spent the last ten minutes running through a mental list of every piece of musical equipment to ever exist. You wouldn’t be surprised if on the way to the fair, she starts listing off all the ways the show could go wrong (though that does seem more Benny’s style): guitar string breaking; microphone stops working; nuclear strike…

It’s hard to believe that the gig at The Wreck was three months ago, now. You’d spent the majority of the previous months hanging out with the Pogues, finding it hard to fathom how you killed the hours before knowing them.

As the four of you load into the van, with you and Benny in the front, Mike takes control of the aux. As him and Pansy sing along, venting out their pre-show nerves, you strike up conversation with the ginger haired boy. He’s been quiet – quieter than usual – with his fingers tapping on the steering wheel, a drummer’s habit.  

“I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in ages,” you half-laugh, somewhat awkward. “Summer’s going so fast.”

“Well, you dip at the end of nearly every band practise to hang out with your new friends, so,” Benny grumbles.

He seems mad about it, more than you expected him to be.

“I don’t ‘dip’, I just head-out,” you say.

“Yeah. All the time,” Benny mumbles.

Frowning, you say sincerely, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it was bothering you guys so much. I just like hanging out with the Pogues. They’re fun.”

Benny sighs, shaking his head. “No, it’s cool. It’s just…I just missing having you around, is all.”

“But, I am around. I still come to band practise. Hell, we all got breakfast the other day.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, shaking his head once more. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If it’s messing with our friendship then it does matter, Benny,” you say.

You see him debate whether to expand or not. In the end, he does. As he speaks, he looks at you.

“I miss me and you hanging out, is what I mean.”

Your lips part. Oh. “Well, we can still do that.”

“We can?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smile. “How about tomorrow we go for food or something?”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Why not tonight?” he wonders, looking back to the road.

“I’m hanging out with the Pogues tonight,” you say, apologetically. “JJ and Kie and everyone.”

“JJ,” Benny repeats. He says it under breath, in a scoff, like he didn’t mean to let it slip.

You frown. “What? Don’t you like him?”

“No, yeah, he’s…He’s a character,” Benny settles on, giving you the briefest of looks as he replies. “I just don’t see why he’d wanna hang around with you so much.”

You try and ignore the sting of his words, digging into your chest like the horn of a thistle. “What’d you mean?”

“You two barely have anything in common. I just find it kinda weird how you get along so well,” Benny explains. His voice is always gentle, soft and non-demanding, but somehow it doesn’t lessen the blow. “You talk about him all the time. All the dumb shit you get up to. Not to mention how much weed you’ve been smoking with him. Just find it weird how you’re suddenly the type of person who gets along with JJ Maybank.”

“Well, I just…am,” you say, shrugging. Off put from the conversation, you look out the passenger window.

“I know you like him.”

Crap. Your stomach flips. “No, I don’t.”

“Of course you do,” Benny says, laughing. “Who doesn’t? He’s an attractive guy, I’m not stupid. He’s an adrenaline junky and a bad-boy, and everybody loves a bad-boy, don’t they?”

“He’s not a ‘bad-boy’, Benny. Sides, who actually says that, outside of the movies?” you add, hoping to recover the exchange into something light.

“He’s trouble, is what he is,” Benny tells you. His voice is firm and definitive. The way he says it makes you think back to the fishing shop, and how the cashier was watching JJ like a hawk.

“He’s not trouble,” you reply, trying not to keep your tone softer. “He’s nice.”

“Nice,” Benny scoffs. Licking his teeth, he nods, staring ahead at the road. “Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

The foul taste from the conversation with Benny doesn’t ease up for the rest of the journey. It lingers in your throat as you set-up on stage and comes back, full force, when the Pogues come over to greet you. Wish you luck for the show. The rough feeling of JJ’s knuckles, and the cold press of his rings, when you fist bump him. How he knows that you don’t like to hug before shows, with your anxiety sky-high. As you sing through the songs, talk to the crowd, work through the nerves that never fully fade, you find yourself looking to JJ more and more. Whenever you do, there’s Benny’s voice in the back of your head, almost judgemental as he repeats the mantra: ‘I just don’t see why he’d wanna hang around with you so much.’

Was he right? Does JJ just like seeing how he can make you nervous? Enjoys watching you squirm and fumble through social interactions, wade through his compliments as gracefully as a paralysed ballet dancer?

No, he’s not mean. He’s kind and he’s soft with you, but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re made of glass. He knows how to joke with you, how to get a laugh from you. Knows how far to push and when to pull back. JJ knows you. He’s your friend. He wants to be your friend. Doesn’t he?

Or did Kie talk to him, after all? He’d said how she’d told him you were quiet before the gig at The Wreck, as if warning him off. After the party, how do you know that she didn’t hunt him down before he bumped into you in the bathroom? That she told him about your pathetic school-girl crush, and it bolstered his ego, and he found himself trapped in this awkward thing of having to be friends with the weird, quiet girl who has an unattainable crush on him…

As your overthinking goes to hell quicker than a penny falling from the Empire State Building, you manage to keep up with the songs and belt out the lyrics. You can’t bring yourself to look at JJ when you conclude on Rear View. Have to close your eyes. The lyrics sting a bit too much. More than they usually do.

The Pogues are waiting at the end of the show.

“That was dope, you guys! Everyone loved it!” Kiara buzzes, high-fiving Pansy.

“Might be our best show yet,” Mike agrees, nodding. He’s packing away his bass.

“We’re gonna head off in about ten minutes or so,” Kie says.

“Pope’s meeting us at the Chateau later. His dad roped him into helping out,” John B tells you.

“You guys are coming right?” Kie asks the four of you.

Mike looks up from his spot near the amp, unplugging wires. “I’m gonna pass. Got a date.”

“You’ve got a date?” Pansy gapes.

“Yeah?”

“With who?”

“This chick I met at your birthday party,” he shrugs. You have a vague memory of seeing him talking to a girl, before you went up to him that night.

“Why are you so secretive, Mike? What other second-lives are you leading?” Pansy teases.

Mike rolls his eyes, giving a covert smiling. “They die with me. I’ll see y’all later.”

As he waves farewell and walks away, Pansy shakes her head, almost impressed. “God bless that weird, strange man.”

“So that leaves three?” John B checks, pointing to you three.

You still haven’t looked at JJ. Pansy answers on your behalf. “Well, us two definitely are. Benny?”

“I’ll pass. I’ve got a curfew,” Benny says.

“Most Kook thing I’ve ever heard,” JJ sniggers.

“Yeah? Well, I’m sure it’s nice having parents who don’t give a shit,” Benny replies sharply.

You frown. Looking to Benny, your eyes are narrowed in confusion.

JJ frowns too, only for different reasons. Staring him down, he stands a head higher.

“What’d you say, princess?”

“Look, man, I’m sorry your dad’s a criminal but I don’t see what that’s gotta do with me.”

JJ’s jaw goes rigid. His body tenses. Anger comes over him suddenly like a hurricane. He takes a step forward, gladly getting in Benny’s face. JJ’s taller, broader, stronger. Benny’s hours spent playing the drums don’t stand a chance in a round with him.

“You wanna say that again, Kook?”

“Guys, come on,” Kie says, trying to step between them.

“You like messing with her, huh? You having fun with it? Like having her gawking after you?” Benny bites back.

His eyes flit to you as he talks. Your heart fractures.

JJ shoves him on the chest. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, man.”

“I know who you are, JJ. Everybody does. You don’t fool me, with this whole good-guy act you’ve got going on with her. You’re messing her up. Getting her to do drugs with you and shit? You’re gonna end up hurting her, like you hurt everybody else. Just what you Pogues do.”

“Benny, what the hell?” you whisper.

JJ isn’t as silent in his anger. He swings a punch, knocking Benny straight in the cheek, sending him backwards against the stage. Some stranger from the fair exclaims when they catch sight. John B immediately steps in between. JJ is reluctant to backdown, standing over Benny, urging him to fight back. When Benny goes to do retaliate, you come to your senses and step up. You grab for his wrist before he can throw his punch.

“Don’t be an idiot, Benny,” you snap.

His eyes flash to you. Something behind them seems to break. He hides it with anger. “You’re taking his side?”

“I’m not taking anybody’s side,” you say, annoyed. “This is pathetic. Both of you.”

As you talk, you let your eyes glance to JJ. He’s breathing heavy, still pissed, but takes a step back at your disapproval.

“We’re at a Goddamn family fair. Both of you need to get your shit together,” you tell them sharply.

You let go of Benny’s wrist and walk off, heart beating out your chest. You hate confrontation. Hate when people fight.

Kiara and Pansy come after you, both of them bitching about how useless boys are. You fold your arms across your chest and blink back tears. No matter what emotion you experience, it always seems to resolve with waterworks. It’s then, as you think back to the altercation, that you hardly recognise the memory of Benny in that moment. It’s so disappointing when you see who people for who they truly are, beneath all the personas, only for them to end up being fickle and fake.

Your feet carry you to the back-ends of the fair, lit up by the remnants of daylight. It’s nothing but storage containers, vans and trucks, the odd horse and animal box from the farm-show. You take perch on the step of one of the empty caravans. Pansy and Kiara sit beside you, the former coiling her arms around you in a hug. You place your head in your hands and let out a few tears. There’s no point fighting them off.

“JJ is so stupid sometimes,” Kie mutters.

“No kidding. And Benny? Pushing at him like that?”

“Asking for a fight.”

“Guys are so dumb,” Pansy concludes with a sigh, shaking her head.

You sit up and wipe your cheeks.

“Where’s your head at, hun?” she asks you, softly.

Shaking your head, you scoff. “I have no idea. I don’t understand why Benny would say things like that. Why he’d lash out at JJ like that, about me.”

“Well, it’s cause he likes you,” Pansy says plainly.

You shoot her a look of pure bewilderment. “What?”

“Girl, it’s so obvious,” she chuckles, sympathy in her gaze. “The guy practically follows after you like a love-sick puppy.”

“She’s right, you know? Even I can see it,” Kie confirms.

You look between the two of them. Benny? Seriously?

You’ve spent so much of your life alone, out of the minds of boys and girls, void of compliments, that you find it hard to believe anybody might have a thing for you. Least of all, Benny. Sweet, quiet, unassuming Benny. Well, until tonight, that is.

But come to think…The last few months, he’s been weird. The random compliments he’s been dropping, when he never used to before. That time in the garage, when he messed with your hair and put his hands on your shoulders. The car ride today, disapproving of JJ.

“I know you like him.”

The penny drops.

“He’s…jealous?” you whisper.

“No duh, dumbass,” Kiara mutters.

“But- Wait, of what?”

Your life feels as though it has suddenly become a teenage rom-com after being nothing but years of a podcast of white-noise a person could fall asleep.

“Of JJ,” Kie answers, as if it’s obvious.

“Why in the hell would he be jealous of JJ?”

A look gets shared between Pansy and Kiara.

“Because JJ has a thing for you too…”

“JJ does not have a thing for me,” you snort. “He doesn’t have a thing for me, alright? You guys are way off.”

“Hun—”

“No, he doesn’t, alright?” you can’t help but snap at Kie. The emotions of the last few months are bubbling inside of you. More tears well up. “Why would he? I’m awkward, and I’m useless, and I’m desperate, and I’ve been in love with him since I was a kid and have never done anything about it! I’m pathetic! And he’s…Well, he’s him. He’s funny and charming and fucking gorgeous and…And I’m just me.”

Pansy and Kiara are staring at you with eyes full of pity. They don’t speak, but Kiara grabs at your hand and squeezes it tight.

"Don’t ever talk about yourself like that,” she tells you in a voice that’s firm but sweet, like cookie dough.

“I’ll slap you if you say anything like that again,” Pansy not-so-delicately doubles.

You laugh through your tears at that. Wiping your face, sighing, you look down at the ground.

“I…I think you should really talk to JJ,” Kiara offers. “You can say whatever you want, but I see how he is around you. He’s never like that, with anyone. You bring out a different side of him, and I mean that in the best way.”

“She’s right,” Pansy nods, nudging your shoulder. “I was looking at him through the set, and he had his eyes glued on you.”

“I’m the singer,” you sigh in disagreement.

“Yeah, but I’m the most talented one up there,” Pansy replies, as if it’s obvious. You laugh at her antics. “Everyone should be looking at me.”

Looking to your two friends, you can’t help but feel a swell of gratefulness for having them stick by you. Nodding, you sniff away the last few tears.

“I wanna talk to JJ,” you tell them.

“Perfect,” Kiara says. “He’ll probably be at the chateau. I’ll give you a lift.”

Doing as she says she will, Kie drops you off at the Chateau on her drive home. As you climb out the car, Pansy sticks her head out the back window.

“You sure you wanna go on your own?” she double-checks.

You smile at her. She’s a good friend.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nod.

She smiles back. “Alright. Now, remember: you’re hot, you’re talented, and you’re a catch-twenty-two.”

“Got it,” you say with a laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Good,” Pansy nods. Mission accomplished. “Go get ‘em.”

You wave farewell to Kie as she pulls back out the driveway and onto the road. The moment the car’s gone, you’re abandoned in darkness. A few birds are giving their final caws of the day, settling down for the night. Crickets and night critters merge with the distant lapping of the water of the marsh. Sighing, you wrap your jumper tighter around yourself in a hug and walk towards the back garden. You’re hoping JJ’s here. Kiara said he should be.

As you round the side of the house, you make out the hammock. It’s swaying lightly. There’s a foot extended out of it, heel of a boot dug into the ground, causing it to rock. The faint puff of smoke that blows up makes you certain it’s him.

“JJ?”

The rocking stops.

You walk a bit closer until you’re in his line of sight. He’s looking down at his hands, one of which is messing with his pocketknife as the other cradles a joint.

“Hey,” you quietly say.

“Hey,” he mumbles. His cap is tilted down, concealing his face slightly.

“How’s your hand?” you ask.

He glances to it. Nods. “It’s fine.”

Nodding, you shift your weight from one foot to the other. “Can I join you?”

He stops fiddling with the knife. There’s an awkward pause before he nods, shifting so you can climb onto the hammock. You take a spot by his feet. He uses his foot as an anchor to steady the sway.

“Did you like the set?”

“Mhm.”

“I played one of the new ones,” you say. He nods, feigning disinterest.

“It was nice,” he says. “Benny help you write it?”

You sigh. “Seriously, JJ?”

He looks up at that. Eyes dazzling in the moonlight. “What?”

“Did you have to hit him?”

“The guy was asking for it, alright? You heard what he said to me, didn’t you?” JJ defends, sitting up.

 “Of course, I did. But you can’t just hit anybody who pisses you off.”

“You don’t get it, alright?”

“Sure I don’t,” you reply, sarcastic.

“No, you don’t,” he repeats, firmer. He pushes his cap back as he goes on, blunt momentarily abandoned. “You live in your little Kook world, ignorantly bliss to the shitshow that goes on around you.”

His words set off something inside of you.

“I’m not some stuck-up snob, JJ. Don’t treat me like I am. That’s not fair. Being a Kook and a Pogue has nothing to do with you picking a fight with Benny at the fair.”

JJ laughs, tossing his head back. He wipes a hand down his face. “Oh, you’re so stupid sometimes, you know that? It has everything to do with it!”

“How!? How does that make any sense?” you gape, sitting upright. You wave your arms around. “In what Pogue-Kook universe do you have to pick a fight with Benny? We’re just friends!”

“For someone so quiet, you sure don’t pay attention,” JJ insults, staring you in the eyes.

Your resolve slackens. “Don’t be mean, JJ.”

“According to your little boyfriend, that’s all I can be,” he mutters, looking back down to his pocketknife.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you sigh, exhausted. You rub at your forehead. “I don’t know where all that stuff came from, okay? He’s never acted like that before. I’m so embarrassed, and I’m so sorry he said all that to you, and he was way out of line. I don’t know why he did it.”

“I do! Everyone does! It’s obvious! The guy’s in love with you. He thought he was defending your honour or some shit,” JJ spits.

“He’s not in love with me,” you deny. Maybe he might have a crush on you, but in love? Come on now.

“Seriously? You seriously don’t see it?” JJ says, voice rising again.

You shrug, making a face as if to say ‘no, I really don’t’.

It seems to make him angry again.

“He follows you around all the time! He’s always watching you, alright? Always. He’s looking at you all the time. Complimenting you. Making little jokes, hoping that you’ll laugh. Finding any excuse to spend time with you. Like with that teaching-you-the-drums bullshit? What the hell was that? And don’t get me started on that little display he did in the garage that day! With the hands on the shoulders and stuff and grabbing your bag for you like a little pussy-whipped simp. Helping you out without you even asking for him too--”

“That’s your definition of love?” you practically shout, cutting him off with a scoff. “You do all of that!”

“Exactly!” JJ yells.

Silence.

JJ’s breathing heavy. You see the moment the words catch up. See his face drop into panic, then glaze over as if uninterested. Your mind’s racing, scrambling for purchase and muddling through interpretations…

But…there’s only one though. Right?

JJ looks out to the water. He takes a hit from his joint, almost desperate.

“JJ,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. Looks down at his joint as if it’s something to inspect. As if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “Doesn’t matter, alright?”

“Yes, it does.”

“No-” his clipped tone is cut off with a sigh. You see him close his eyes. Collects himself. There’s a lingering quiet. A mosquito nips at your ankle but you can’t bring yourself to waft it away.

“You don’t know the effect you have on people, do you?” He asks you quietly. He opens his eyes to look out to the water. You’re not sure if you’re meant to answer. Before you can, he’s talking once more.

“Benny’s got almost everything in common with you, okay? He’s rich, he’s got a nice house, nice family. Goes to a good school. I bet he gets good grades, too. Talented. And he’s not the worst looking asshole, alright? So, yeah. It is a Kook-Pogue thing, alright?”

His eyes flit to you for a moment but he doesn’t let them linger. He looks back down to the pocketknife. His thumb dances over the wood of it.

“It was always gonna be a Kook-Pogue thing. The moment that I realised I liked you; I knew there was no chance. I mean, what the hell would you want with a guy like me?”

Oh.

There’s a strange, euphoric feeling that comes after JJ talks. You suddenly feel like you understand why you’ve always gotten along with JJ. It’s like you’ve been staring in a mirror this whole time. It’s then that that you realise that you’re not nervous anymore. That you haven’t been nervous in a while, whenever JJ’s around. That if you ever do feel anxious or unsure, finding his face, meeting his eyes, searching for his smile; it always brings you back. Suddenly, you don’t care about the differences; the small, insignificant things that really don’t matter, when you think about it, because as long as you’ve got JJ, you don’t care what happens.

He says Benny’s got more in common with you, but Benny doesn’t know about the panic attacks or how to ease you back from them. He doesn’t know how to make you laugh; not to the point where you feel your stomach might collapse and your ribs might break. His compliments don’t make you feel like there’s a shot of electricity running through you, quick and painless. With Benny, they’re just nice words, like when a cashier tells you to have a good day. Maybe he’s book smart and plays the drums well, but JJ could tell you anything you want to know about fishing: how, where, when. Mechanics and boats and handy-man tricks. Intelligence wasn’t one thing; it wasn’t just about being able to dissect a Shakespeare quote. And you could sit and listen to him talk all day. The cadence of his voice rising and falling like the tide of the water.

You’ve liked JJ since you were a kid. Since that stupid day on the marsh, when you were frog hunting, and you saw him on the rope swing. He was so funny. So bubbly and lively. Everything you wished you could be. And when he looked at you, through the bushes of the marsh, and smiled…that smile became every inspiration for every song you wrote. The thought in the back of your mind when you conjured up the lyrics. As he got older, he became more beautiful, twisting into the definition of an American heartthrob. Your lives stretched differently and you came to accept that liking him would be a pipedream. Something you could live in your fictional songs. But then came Kiara, and The Wreck, and everything else, and it all lined up so nicely. It was as if an invisible string was tied around your wrist the first day you saw him, guiding you to now.  

Right now.

You shift onto your knees and move up the hammock until you’re face to face with JJ. Before either of you has time to think, you’re cupping his jaw and guiding his lips to yours. Under the unsteady purchase of the hammock, you move your free hand to his chest for balance. It’s hard and sturdy. Once the shock slips away, JJ’s kissing you back. One of his hands comes to your face, swiping across your cheek and pushing back some of your hair that’s fallen into your face. His other comes to sit on your waist. Squeezes your skin softly, as if checking that you’re real: joint and pocketknife abandoned. A feeling zips through your body, right down to your toes. It’s indescribable. It’s sweet and mercurial and…it’s JJ. It’s all JJ.

When you pull back, you’re smiling.

JJ’s eyes open slowly. A smile is blooming on his face too, cheeks pink, lips still parted, damp from your touch.

“Okay,” he whispers.

You giggle, biting your lower lip. “Okay?”

“Not what I was expecting,” he admits with a small laugh.

You can’t help but kiss him again, wanting to taste his laughs. He gladly pulls you closer, shifting you so you’re straddling his waist. The more you kiss, the more he eases into touching you, the more you relax into kissing him. Finding a rhythm and a pattern that has the two of you short of breath.

Breaking apart once more, JJ stares at you as if in a trance. The same look from The Wreck and from the ocean. You recognise what it is now.

He strokes a finger across your cheek and you lean into the touch of his palm. Makes him smile brighter.  

“You gonna write a song about me now?” he quietly jokes. His eyes flick down to your lips.

You smile, laugh almost silently as you shake your head. Before leaning down to kiss him again, you confess your only remaining secret to him in a whisper.

“They’re already about you. Every single one of them.”