#jj maybank angst one shot

[strangelysamantha]

jj x plus!reader story plz. jj always saying how much he loves your body, saying it’s something he can’t get enough of. he would always compliment you and stuff and then one day he random cheats on you with kie or a random tourist and since he’s so ashamed of himself and he’s a self destructer he starts to say nasty shit to you about your appearance and so you storm off upset and then you can chose the ending from there

lies, lies, and more lies ☆

jj maybank x plus!reader.

warnings: infidelity, jj being self-destructive, swearing, harsh speech, toxiccc, ect.

summary: after jj cheats on you, he can’t help but villainize himself by being rude to you and destroying any chance of redemption he had.

request? yes!

a/n: thank you for this request!! like and comment if you enjoyed! <3 my masterlist is pinned on my page!

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jj pulled you into a tight hug, his head in the crook of your neck. his lips hovered over your skin, softly pressing kisses on you. "you are so perfect, baby." you smile at his words, "i can't get enough of you, you don't understand." he pulled away, his eyes locked on yours. he slips his arms around your waist. you lean in, kissing him. "thank you, jj" you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tightly. jj continued rambling, "i love your body so much, you are so sexy." he holds your hand, urging you to spin into a circle to show off your figure. he grabs your hips, pulling you close to him. his hands roam from your hips to your chest. "i just want you, in every way." he leads you to your bed, and you comfortably adjust. "jj you are so sweet to me." he smiles, his hand cups your cheek, and he gently pulls you closer to him. "do you blame me?" he lets out an airy laugh, "you're my girlfriend, anyone would kill to have you." you shake your head in denial, "no, it's true. i have to protect what is mine." you bite your lip, caught off guard at his confession. "i love you, jj." he smiles brightly. "i love you so much."

you sit up, climbing onto his lap. you wrap your arms around him, the tension rising. "jj, you are the sexiest man i have ever met." he chuckles, "thank you, but i'm the lucky one. look at you." you lay your head on his chest for a second, when his phone loudly rings. you glance over at his phone, but he quickly denies the call. "who is that?" you ask. nerves littered your stomach, and a feeling of unease washes over you. his previous demeanor quickly changing. "just john b, don't worry baby, its nothing." he flips his phone over, silencing it. you are puzzled, if it really was just john b, why was he suddenly defensive? despite him turning the phone off, it continued to buzz repeatedly.

"i think you should answer him, it might be important." he nods, grabbing his phone, he places a kiss on your head, and swiftly exits the room. you sit astonished alone on the bed. after a few minutes he comes back, "i told you it wasn't anything serious." you nod, "that's good, im glad." he joins you in the bed once again, cuddling you tightly. you melt into his touch, the earlier doubts immediately slipping your mind. you didn't want your insecurity to ruin a good relationship. jj loved you, and he treated you like a goddess. you decide to leave it be.

jj was comfortable in your arms, and after a few minutes of silence in the dimly lit room, he drifts to sleep. that uncertainty came back, and you knew you would regret not checking it. desperate for clarity, you carefully lean over, grabbing his phone. you unlock it, immediately checking the call logs. you frown at it, seeing an unnamed contact had blown his phone up. you click the number, going to the text thread. your heart sinks, it was kiara. she had sent him multiple topless pictures with a caption of, don't let her see these. you scroll up, seeing weeks of messages they had exchanged. more often than not, there was flirtatious banter. you look over, seeing jj peaceful in your arms. disgust takes over, and you have to resist waking him up.

you double check that is phone is on silent, then you screenshot the worst messages, and the photos. you send them to yourself, immediately deleting any evidence. you're looking at his gallery, seeing a graphic video of jj and kiara together. your breathing staggers, and you have to look away. you close out of all the apps, gently putting his phone back. you lay back in the bed, your eyes closed. your mind is wandering, and you realize jj still had a tight hold around your body. you slip out of the bed, heading downstairs. you enter the bathroom, closing the door, and locking it. you sink to the floor. you couldn't resist, you reread the messages, noticing that kiara made a comment about your weight, in which jj's only response was, at least she is good in bed.

all those things he said, the compliments, he meant none of it. the emotions overwhelm you; you turn your phone off. needing air, you step outside. the moon is high in the sky, and you find yourself sitting by the ocean. your legs dangle over the edge, just above the water. you realized it was getting pretty late, and the night air was crisp. with a slight chill, you head back inside. you find jj in the kitchen, he lights up when he notices you. "now where did you go?" he laughs, he grabs a blanket for you. he wraps it around you, feeling your hands. "you are so cold, baby." you frown, "i didn't realize it would be that cold." he nods, "well why'd you go out there anyway?" you shrug, "had too much energy to sleep, so i went for a walk." he smirks, "next time you have too much energy, just tell me." his eyes trace over your body, "i can help you with that." you laugh, but walk to the fridge to grab some water. he hugs you from behind, his hands grabbing your stomach. you slightly shiver at his touch, you shake your head, stepping forward so you escape his grasp. "i have to go to the bathroom." he nods, "okay, i'll be upstairs." you smile, he kisses your cheek before making his way to your room.

you stay in the kitchen for a few minutes, before going back to the bedroom. "hey so kiara called me while i was outside." his attention is fully on you now, "she wants me to spend the night." you walk to your dresser grabbing some clothes for the supposed sleepover. he scratches his neck, "did she say why?" you decide to continue lying, since that's what he's been doing to you for weeks. "i guess she had a bad hookup, and she wants to tell me about it. just a girls night type thing." you continue packing and his eyes watch you intensely. "i'm kind of surprised by that." he spits out firmly, you turn around. "why?" he looks around, "i don't know, it didn't seem like you two talked like that." you laugh harshly, "what do you mean jj? she's my best friend." his face drops. "i want to spend the night with you, can't you wait until tomorrow?" you sigh, "no, i spend the night with you all the time, kiara and i don't get to hang out a lot. i'm not cancelling." he looks down at his phone, and smiles. your heart burns at the sight.

"who are you really going to see?" he questions, standing up. "what do you mean?" he smirks, as if he's catching you. "you aren't seeing kiara, she just texted me." you fight back a smirk, "oh really?" he holds his phone up, and you grab it from him. you open her text; it's her asking if she could come over. he allows you to look, but then immediately regrets it. "what the fuck is this jj?" you show the photo of her, and he rips the phone from your hand. "that's old, its nothing." you place your hands on your hips. you pull out your phone and dial kiaras number. she answers, "hey kiara, what are you doing tonight?" she is silent for a moment, "i don't have any plans yet, what's up." you laugh, "oh, i guess jj never answered you." she quickly hung the phone up. you look back at jj, and his eyes are wide. "if it's not like that, let me see your phone." he looks down, "you won't like what you see."

"why would you do this to me?" your eyes are glassy, and a frown is hung on your lips. he shrugs, "i mean i like you, but kiara's just different." you nod, "she's skinner, and prettier, that's it right?" he shakes his head, "no, not at all." you stare at him, "so your comment, at least she's good in bed...? that had nothing to do with my looks?" his anger seeps out, and his voice rises. "you went through my phone? that's a huge invasion of privacy!" you roll your eyes, "you got caught cheating, can you be mature for once?" your words struck jj's nerve. "maybe i wouldn't have cheated on you if you would have actually showed me love." he crosses his arms, "you don't mean that."

he sighs, "it's not like we were actually serious, we started as a fling," his words are laced with venom, "i mean did you really think we could last? look at you, then look at me." tears stream down your face, his words harsh. "okay jj." your eyes are low to the ground. "im really sorry, i should have ended it before it got this far, but you were so happy from my attention, i didn't want to rip it away from you." he tries to step closer to you, but you instinctively back up. "don't." he looks away. "did you not love me?" he hesitates, "i did love you, but no one wanted us together." you finally lock eyes with him, "who said that? kiara?" he sheepishly nods, "yeah." you close your eyes, "what she has to say shouldn't matter to you. you were the one who had us become more than friends. this whole thing was a fucking lie."

"you know i don't settle down. especially with people who are like you." he isn't holding back, "im aware of how i look jj. you never said you had an issue with it. you complimented me all the time. you loved me once." he shrugs, sitting on the bed. "not anymore, i never want to fuck you ever again." you compose yourself, "if that's the case, then were done." he doesn't try and argue you about it. "okay. we can still be friends," you laugh, "no we can't, get out of my house." you throw his belongings in a little tub, shoving it in his arms. "i'm sorry." jj has soft eyes towards you, a pit of guilt was brewing. for some reason, actually being forced out of your house, hurt his feelings. "goodbye." he leaves the room, and you follow to lock the door behind him. you turn your porch light off, blocking jj's number.

[shortnspidey]

SILENT RIFT

jj maybank x fem!cameron!reader || WC: 4.5K

SUMMARY: The Pogues finally find the gold they've been searching for after countless obstacles. However, when it comes to actually succeeding, the universe has other plans. Held at gunpoint in the middle of nowhere, a spontaneous decision changes everything. In the heat of the moment, words are said that reveal hidden feelings. Emotions run high, leading them to confront not only their enemies, but also their own emotions.

WARNINGS: established relationship, cursing, mild angst, talks of drugs, typical OBX level violence, suggestive towards the end but no smut!

A/N: Happy OBX 4 release day! This one shot is one of my old Wattpad drafts from when I was writing a JJ story. Enjoy this drabble as I try to publish another chapter of broken record or collateral hearts soon! This ended up being a long one, enjoy! Divider by @marvelstoriesepic

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"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr. Frankenstein," JJ scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Kiara as he stepped out of the Twinkie. He clutched the melted piece of gold tightly in his hand, its weight a tangible reminder of what everyone was expecting him to do. As the group arrived outside a shabby pawn shop on the outskirts of the Outer Banks, the rundown aspect and the graffiti on the walls made your skin crawl. The shops window's were smeared with grime, making it impossible to see inside, and the peeling paint revealed patches of weathered wood.

Kiara shot JJ a glare, her frustration evident in the tight set of her jaw and the clenching of her fists. "Like you could have done any better." She retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. JJ stepped closer, standing toe to toe with her, not backing down from her challenging gaze. "I could have done much better. I took a welding class," He sassed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Woah, woah, hey!" John B chastised, stepping in between his two friends.

His presence seemed to diffuse some of the tension, his calm demeanor acting as a buffer between the two. You followed his lead, grabbing JJ by his arm and rubbing comforting circles with your thumb on his forearm knowing that he was anxious. You could feel the taut muscles in JJ's arm slowly beginning to relax under your touch, the rhythmic motion of your thumb providing a small measure of comfort.

"Chill out, okay?" John B coaxed, his voice gentle but firm. You watched as Kiara's eyes softened slightly, her earlier anger giving way to a mix of concern and frustration. She took a step back, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled deeply. "It's easy for you to say that," JJ scoffed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You're not the one that has to pawn off this piece of shit." He emphasized his point by holding up the gold bars that were now melted in a unrecognizable shape, the once gleaming metal was now a twisted, misshapen lump.

"How did I get this job anyway?" JJ muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Cause you're the best liar." Pope replied nonchalantly, his tone matter-of-fact. Letting out a sigh JJ turned to you, his cerulean blue eyes locking with yours. His eyes were a stormy sea, filled with a mix of frustration and determination. He turned his head, tapping his cheek. "Kiss, for you know, good luck." He grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning momentarily. You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends antics yet leaned in to kiss him nonetheless.

Just as your lips were about to collide with his cheek, he turned his head at the last second, smashing his lips with your in a kiss that was way too passionate for it to be in front of your friends. The warmth of his lips, the sudden intensity, made your heart race. You could have sworn you heard your sister mutter an "aww" while everyone else fake gagged, their exaggerated sounds filling the air. Pulling yourself away from the kiss, much to JJ's dismay, you smiled, leaning up and pressing one more chaste kiss to his pouting lips.

The brief contact left a lingering warmth, a promise of more to come. "You got this," You reassured him, squeezing his bicep in emphasis, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Showtime," He mumbled to himself, mentally preparing. Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath, and gave you one last look before stepping forward. Behind you, Sarah reached out and squeezed your hand, her grip offering a silent message of solidarity and support. The warmth of her touch was comforting, grounding you in the moment.

Everyone followed JJ into the empty shop, the jingle of the bell on the door announcing your arrival. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet space, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air. "Afternoon, ma'am." JJ greeted, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of anxiety. The shop was dimly lit, with dust particles dancing in the beams of barely there sunlight that filtered through the windows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with various trinkets and curiosities, each one telling its own story. “Afternoon.” The pawnbroker, an elderly woman with a stern face and piercing eyes, looked up from behind the counter.

Her gaze swept over your group as you spaced yourselves around the room, lingering on JJ for a moment longer. JJ stepped forward, trying to maintain his composure under her scrutinizing gaze. "I see you buy gold," He emphasized, his voice steady but with a hint of nervousness. "That's what the sign says, don't it?" She retorted, her lips curling into a sneer. She glanced at the sign hanging in the window, its letters faded and worn. "Well, I sure hope you buy a lot of it, because I am about to blow your mind." JJ carefully opened his bag, revealing the items inside. The pawnbroker's eyes never left his hands, watching his every move with a hawk-like intensity.

"I ain't got much mind left to blow, so have at it," She challenged, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and curiosity. "How about them gold apples," JJ replied, his voice steady as he placed the melted gold onto the counter with a thump that echoed throughout the shop. The sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, adding a weighty finality to his action. The pawnbroker chuckled cynically, shaking her head. "That ain't real," She declared, her voice filled with disbelief and a hint of mockery. Her eyes flicked to the gold, then back to JJ, as if daring him to prove her wrong.

"That ain't real?" JJ scoffed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "It can't be," The pawnbroker pressed, her voice faltering slightly as doubt began to creep in. She reached out a tentative hand, her fingers hovering just above the gold, as if afraid to touch it. "Feel how heavy it is," He countered, his voice firm and confident. He nudged the gold closer to her, the metal glinting under the dim light. The pawnbroker hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked on JJ's, searching for any sign of deceit. Finally, she picked up the gold, her fingers curling around it.

Her expression shifted from skepticism to surprise as she felt the weight of the metal in her hand. The shop fell silent, the only sound being the faint creak of the floorboards as she adjusted her stance, the gold weighing heavily in her grasp. "Mhm, here let's get some light on that." The group watched intently as she narrowed her eyes, but nevertheless picked up a nearby magnifying glass with a light, inspecting the chunk of gold closely. "Spray-painted tungsten." She concluded, her voice laced with doubt but still firm.

"Really, okay?" JJ rolled his eyes. "Why don't you see how soft it is." He suggested. "You mind?" The pawnbroker asked, holding up a small mallet, her eyes seeking permission. "No, go for it." JJ urged, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. She brought the mallet down gently, making a small dent in the gold, then pushed down on it for further inspection. "Wow. Would you look at that." JJ remarked sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hold your horses, we ain't got the acid test yet." She shot back, her confidence wavering slightly. "Ooh, the acid test," He turned, his eyes locking onto yours, a mischievous glint in them.

"My favorite, baby." He added with a wink, grinning as he noticed how the simple action made you flush. You pretended to be distracted by a limited edition book on the shelf, your heart racing as you tried to avoid his piercing gaze. This was certainly not the place or time. Everyone held their breath as the woman dribbled a few drops of acid on top of the gold. The liquid sizzled slightly, emitting a faint, acrid smell that filled the small shop. "Well, it ain't plated, and it ain't painted," she assessed, her tone now more serious. "Ma'am, I'm telling ya, this is as real as the day is long," He insisted, growing tired of the back and forth, his patience wearing thin.

"It looks like someone tried to melt it down," she raised a brow, her eyes meeting JJ's in a challenging gaze. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken accusations. "My mom," You stepped in, linking your arm through JJ's as the pawnbroker eyed you both suspiciously. "She had all this jewelry laying around the house, and she thought it was best to melt it down to "consolidate" it." You tried to sound as convincing as possible, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. The lie felt heavy on your tongue, but you pushed through, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sarah bite her lip to stop the laugh that she almost let out at your evident lie. The pawnbrokers gaze flickered between you and JJ, her skepticism evident. The silence stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. Turning around with a sigh, she placed the gold into a small scale behind the counter, the scale creaked under the weight. "Seven pounds," Her eyes widened. "That's a lot of earrings." Her voice had a hint of disbelief, and you could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to piece together your story.

"Okay, to be honest, ma'am," JJ spoke, clearing his throat and adopting a more somber tone. "It's really hard to see my fiancé's mom fall apart with Alzheimer's. Breaks my heart, truly." His voice wavered slightly, adding an authentic touch to the fabricated story. "Give me a minute." She tsked, walking towards a secluded office. JJ nodded solemnly, playing into the act of the heartbroken fiancé. "Take your time, ma'am." As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to give JJ a look of disbelief. "Alzheimer's really?" You whispered, trying to keep your voice low. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle, and you could feel a nervous giggle bubbling up inside you.

"So I talked to my boss, and this is what I can do." The pawnbroker returned, holding a piece of paper with a price written on it. Inspecting it, JJ raised his brows. "Fifty thousand?" He repeated, his voice tinged with incredulity. The offer was far lower than what you had hoped for, and you could see the frustration building in JJ's eyes. "You think I walked in here not knowin' the spot price?" JJ retorted, his voice firm. "I know for a fact this is worth 140 at least." His confidence was unwavering, and you could see the pawnbroker's resolve starting to crack. "Well sweetie, you in a pawn shop. This ain't Zurich." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of concession in her tone.

"Ninety, or I walk," He bargained, his voice steady. "Seventy, half price, and I don't ask questions about where you got this.” JJ clenched his jaw, looking over at John B, who nodded his head, giving him the green light. "I'm gonna need that in large denominations, please," JJ agreed, his voice calm but resolute. "Well, here's the snag, I don't have that much denominated. Not here anyway, but I can write you a cashier's check." JJ immediately shook his head. “No ma’am, I want the cold hard, that’s what that sign says. Cash for gold, and that’s what I expect.” He pointed to the sign on the wall as emphasis.

“Well, I have to send you to the warehouse. I have the money there. Is that alright?” Everyone in the room held their breath, watching as JJ mentally weighed his options over in his head. “Where’s this warehouse?” He finally asked, his voice steady but with a hint of skepticism. That is how the group found themselves further into the middle of nowhere following the pawnbroker's instructions to the supposed "warehouse". The road was rough and winding, lined with tall, ominous trees that seemed to close in on them as they drove deeper into the unknown.

To say you were on edge would have been a complete understatement. Every creak of the van and small jolt from where you were seated on JJ's lap made your heart race faster. "So, they keep money out here?" Pope voiced aloud the question everyone was probably thinking. His voice broke the silence, but instead of easing the tension, it only seemed to heighten it. The unease in his tone mirrored the anxiety that had settled in your chest. JJ shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. "That's what she said," He chuckled at his own joke. "That's what she said." His snicker was met with silence, the gravity of their situation overshadowing any chance of humor.

"Stop," Pope warned, his expression hardening. The seriousness in his eyes was a stark contrast to JJ's attempt at levity. "That was cute, but definitely not the time, J," You exasperated, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear and uncertainty in your tone were unmistakable. The blonde boy nodded, his playful demeanor fading. He held onto the melted gold in one hand, the other resting reassuringly on your thigh. The warmth of his touch was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming tension. "I've never even heard of Resurrection Drive." Sarah inquired. "That's cause your rich." JJ mumbled under his breath.

"You've never heard of it either." Both you and Kiara retorted in unison. "Thank you." Sarah replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "There's nothing but weeds back here." Kiara informed the group, looking out the van's window and seeing nothing but shrubbery. JJ was about to retort with another sarcastic comment, yet he was interrupted by the sudden, piercing sound of a siren. The noise sliced through the tense silence like a knife. Sure enough, John B looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes widening as he saw the flashing lights of a car behind them, signaling for them to pull over.

"Cops? Out here?" Kiara questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you kidding me!" JJ fumed, his grip tightening on the gold and your thigh, the panic in his eyes was evident. "What did we do?" Sarah questioned, her voice small and wavering, the fear clear in her tone. "Stash that," John B whispered urgently to JJ, who was still holding onto the gold in his hand. You quickly got off his lap and sat next to Kiara, your heart pounding in your chest. The van's interior felt even more confined as Pope and John B coaxed JJ to hurry up. The oppressive weight of the situation pressed down on you, making every second feel like an eternity as you waited for what would happen next.

Your heart sank in your chest upon hearing the cock of a gun and seeing a rifle a few inches away from John B's face. The metallic click echoed ominously in the confined space of the van. "Why don't I go ahead and see them hands in the air?" A gruff voice declared, belonging to a mystery assailant who wore a bandana on the lower half of his face. The fear that gripped your heart quickly morphed into a seething anger. You knew that voice. "All of y'alls hands up in the air right now." Oh hell no, you thought to yourself. This was going to end here and now. "No," You seethed, making direct eye contact with your assailant. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew you recognized him, and his cover slipped slightly.

The tension in the van was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring into action. The familiarity of the voice only fueled your anger, making it harder to think clearly. You could feel the eyes of your friends on you, their fear and confusion mirroring your own. "Just do as he says, Y/N," John B urged, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his fear. He slowly raised his hands, setting an example for the rest of you. "No," You shook your head, challenging him. The defiance in your voice was clear. The assailant's eyes narrowed behind the bandana.

"Alright, tough girl, come on out here then," He taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Y/N, what are you doing?" Sarah whimpered, her voice trembling as she watched you step out of the van, the barrel of the gun trained on you. "It's gonna be okay, Sarah," You reassured her, trying to keep your voice calm despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "Y/N!" This time it was JJ. His voice cracked with desperation. As your eyes met his, you could see he was barely holding it together, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "JJ, trust me, stay here," You coaxed, trying to project as much confidence as you could muster. The last thing you needed was for him to do something reckless.

"I'd listen to the lady, unless you want your brain scattered here on the side of the road," The assailant threatened, his voice cold and unyielding. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding to the already suffocating tension. "I'll be okay, I'll be right back," You promised, hoping your words would be enough to keep your friends from doing anything rash. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was to come, and stepped further away from the van, feeling the eyes of your friends burning into your back. Once you were a safe distance away from the van, Barry lowered his rifle, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Mighty brave of you, Cameron, especially 'cause I'm the one holdin' the gun." He mocked.

"Oh please," You rolled your eyes, your voice laced with disdain. "Drop the act, Barry," Addressing him by his name with a tone of authority, you crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground. "We both know Rafe will kill you if you so much as lay a finger on me." You smirked confidently. "Now, why don't we cut to the chase, shall we?" You proposed, your eyes never leaving his as you reached for the shiny gold diamond ring that adorned your knuckle. Barry watched in disbelief as you slipped it off and held it out to him. "Here," You coaxed, handing him the ring. "This will get you a couple thousand dollars if you pawn it off right." Barry took the ring, studying it in the sunlight. "This covers what you and your friends got, but not what country club owes me, you feel me.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest once more, the frustration evident in your posture. "How much does he owe you?" You asked, your voice tinged with exasperation. "At least two hundred," Barry replied, a smirk playing on his lips. Sighing, you reached into your back pocket for your wallet, picking out two hundred dollar bills. "Are we free to go?" You huffed, knowing that if this deal took any longer, your boyfriend would most likely come and take matters into his own hands, whether Barry had a gun or not. "Tell your boy toy that his attitude's gonna get him in trouble," Barry sneered. "Don't," You spat, your eyes narrowing. "If you even think of touching him, we're going to have a problem. You feel me?" You threw back his previous words with a defiant glare.

Raising his hands in mock surrender "Damn, looks like I hit a nerve." Barry chuckled. "I mean it, Barry," You insisted, your voice steady and unwavering. With one final smirk in your direction, Barry pockets the cash and the ring and climbs into his car without a single look back in your direction. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and turn back towards the van. As you approached, the tension was palpable, hanging thick in the air. "What the hell was that?" Sarah was the first to question you, her eyes wide with concern as you climbed into the backseat as if nothing had happened.

"I handled it, it's over." You shrugged nonchalantly, but the tightness in your chest betrayed your calm facade. Sarah scoffed, clearly unconvinced by your bravado. "That was pretty stupid, Y/N," Kiara scolded, her voice filled with frustration. Everyone nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of worry and disapproval. You shrugged them off, trying to meet JJ's eyes, who had yet to say anything. You could see the worry and anger battling for dominance in his eyes, the tension in his jaw making it clear just how much he was holding back. "Let's get out of here," John B broke the silence, his voice a calm command that cut through the tension. Everyone was unharmed, yet you somehow knew this was far from over.

Arriving back at the Château, you watched JJ throw open the door before John B even parked his van. The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoed through the air. You watched as JJ stormed inside, his movements quick and agitated. One hand was gripping his chest, his knuckles white from the pressure, while the other was balled into a tight fist, veins visible under his skin. He didn't look back, his anger propelling him forward. John B, Kiara, Sarah, and Pope turned to you, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. It was as if they were silently asking if they should get involved, their eyes darting between you and the direction JJ had gone.

"I'll handle it," You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. You stepped down from the van, the gravel crunching under your feet. "Good luck," John B sing-songed, a teasing lilt in his voice. You flipped him off with a smirk, hearing Sarah and Kiara scold him in unison. Their voices faded as you walked through the door, the familiar scent of the Château enveloping you. You found JJ in the spare bedroom, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His footsteps were heavy, each step reverberating through the wooden floor. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a storm of emotions - anger, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability.

"JJ, talk to me," You urged softly, stepping closer. Your voice was calm, trying to soothe the tempest within him. He stopped pacing and turned to face you fully. His expression was a mix of anger and hurt, his jaw clenched tightly. "What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? You could've gotten yourself killed!" His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear behind his anger. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "He's the scumbag who sells coke to my brother. I know him and what he's capable of. As much of a psychotic asshole as he is, he wouldn't hurt me. Not without facing Rafe's wrath." That only made JJ angrier. "How are you so sure?"

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, the space between you shrinking. "Maybe next time you won't be so lucky, or I won't be there to protect you." His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could see the worry etched into his features, mingling with the anger. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his breathing was ragged. "I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound reassuring. "It's over now." "Over?!" JJ's voice rose, and he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Dammit Y/N, you don't get it!" He screamed, pulling his hair in frustration. "I was fucking terrified. Did you know how scared I felt, watching the woman I love being held at gunpoint?" His voice broke, and you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, though he tried to blink them away.

You opened your mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and significant. "What did you just say?" You finally managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. JJ stayed quiet, almost as if processing the words himself. His breathing slowed, and he looked away, his shoulders slumping. The vulnerability in his stance was palpable, and it hit you just how deeply he cared. This was more than just anger; it was fear of losing someone he couldn't bear to lose. "JJ," You coaxed to stop him from overthinking, knowing that his flight or fight mode was kicking in.

JJ's confession hung in the air, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart ache. You could see the fear and love in his eyes, and it made everything else fade away. The room seemed to shrink, and all that mattered was the two of you, standing there, vulnerable and exposed. "I love you, Y/N," He repeated, his voice softer this time, filled with a desperate need for you to understand. He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. Your breath hitched, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your hands reaching up to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, JJ," You whispered, your voice trembling.

"I didn't mean to scare you, but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing either." His eyes softened, the anger melting away as he leaned into your touch. "Just promise me you'll be more careful," He murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I can't lose you, Y/N." He whimpered leaning his forehead against yours. "You won’t lose me, ever, I promise," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, you both closed the distance between one another, your lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and fervent. It was a kiss that spoke of all the fear, the love, and the relief you both felt. Bodies pressed together, seeking comfort and connection, hearts beating as one.

“And I love you too,” You grinned the second he pulled away giving you both a moment to catch your breaths. “In case that kiss didn’t make it clear enough.” JJ shook his head, only pulling you closer. "What do you say we seal the deal?" JJ grinned suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're lucky I love you." He didn't even give you a chance to finish his sentence before he kissed you again, wanting to show you just how much he meant it. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer, the heat between you growing more intense. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that promised so much more to come.

[maybanksprincess]

jj with a sick girlfriend ◡̈

warnings: none, absolute fluff!!

pairings: boyfriend!jj x girlfriend!reader

liahs note ◡̈ — i made a fluffy blurb because we need more jj fluff on tumblr!! hes such a cutie ◡̈

you called jj over about 30 minutes ago, expecting to see just him at the door. but when you got to the door and swung it open, on the other side was your boyfriend holding three different grocery bags, and a few other things. he slides through the door and sets his bags down, putting a hand on your lower back to pull you into him.

"hi beautiful," he greets with a warm smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

you let out a soft giggle at the sudden feeling of his wet lips on ur forehead, responding with a "hi," before getting on your tippy toes a bit to press a small kiss to his cheek. "whats all this for?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, curiosity peaked.

he chuckles and looks down at the few grocery bags on the counter, now pulling items out of it. "stuff for you" he says, going over to your stove to start making the soup he bought.

you roll your eyes in a playful manner, used to your boyfriends antics at this point, so you let him do his thing while you go sit on the couch and watch your comfort show.

after ten minutes jj rounds the corner with a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a heating pad tucked in the crook of his arm.

you pause the show to look at him, raising a brow quizzically, "baby whats that?" you ask in a confused tone, your eyes shifting from the heating pad to the food in his hands.

he chuckles, "'s for you pretty girl." he responds as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, with a gentle eye roll. "i know you weren't feeling good today, and i wanna help in any way i can." he says, following his words with a soft kiss to ur temple.

he places the soup & water on the coffee table, going to the nearest outlet to plug in the heating pad and placing it on your lower tummy, draping a soft blanket over ur lap over it. he grabs a box of tissues he also picked up from the store and leaves it by your side, for when your nose clears up.

you can't help but be overwhelmed with the amount of thought and time he put into this, especially over a small cold that would be gone in a few days. "baby you didn't have t��" he interrupts you by placing a finger over your lips, gently shushing you, "im happy too, sweetheart. i just want you to feel better." he says, kissing your forehead affectionately, pulling you close to his side.

"i love you jay,"

"i love you too mama"

[sarahroutldge]

i love you, i'm sorry.

a/n: requested based on a prompt list - the dialogue prompt is in bold! gif not mine, all credits to the creator (also the title has nothing to do with the song, it was just stuck in my head lol)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj maybank drunkenly hooked up a few nights ago, and neither of you know how to deal with that. (routledge!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff/humor, angst w/ a happy ending, implied sexual content, drinking, semi-proofread, I think that's it

John Booker Routledge never thought he’d actually have to tell his best friend JJ Maybank that his little sister was off limits. Not once did it ever occur to him that JJ would ever think of you in a different way; he hardly liked to consider the idea that you dated anyone in the first place, let alone that you’d express any interest in the man he knew inside-and-out.

But things change and people get older. After you and the rest of the Pogues found El Dorado and began construction on Poguelandia, JJ started to see you differently. Sure, he always found you attractive, but JJ also found every woman he encountered attractive, so he never thought much of it. 

And you certainly didn’t ever think of JJ in that way either. At heart, you were a relationship girl; and while the fact that you were single was proof enough that no relationship of yours had worked out in the past, one of your greatest strengths was that you knew what you wanted. You didn’t seek out something casual because you knew you’d be left unfulfilled. You wanted something all-consuming and destined for marriage. Seeing your older brother grow and mature in his relationship with Sarah Cameron only clarified that further. In your mind, if the second-most relationship-allergic person you knew (after JJ of course) was able to dive headfirst into marriage with a girl so remarkably different from himself, then you decided you wouldn’t settle for any less.

Feelings, however, have a funny way of messing with plans and expectations. While JJ had essentially lived with you and your brother for years, building Poguelandia only pushed the two of you even further together. And watching someone so unpredictable and chaotic as JJ tame himself for the sake of his friends and his future stirred something in you that you hadn’t been expecting at all.

Over the months, your interactions with JJ changed, little by little, and for a while neither of you noticed. It just grew natural for JJ to fix something in the bait shop that you were fussing over, or for you to bring JJ a sandwich or a snack while he worked. You found little ways to make the other’s day brighter, even if subconsciously you never even considered why you were doing these little favors in the first place.

What actually brought the two of you together wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, however. One night, after a long day of work on the house, the Pogues found themselves hanging out above the bait shop, buzzed off of beers, seltzers, and a few joints made of flower grown right from Kiara’s secret spot in the garden. And while the rest of the Pogues eventually found their ways inside and to sleep, JJ and you probably drank a bit too much. One thing led to another, and that was the first night you hooked up. It was slow, passionate, and clumsy, and while the both of you would later blame it on the alcohol and the weed, deep inside you were both fully aware that it was simply the end result of months of pining.

And that’s how you found yourself waking up on the hammock above the bait shop in only one of JJ’s t-shirts and a pair of underwear. The combination of the blinding North Carolina sunrise along with John B.’s extremely loud footsteps on the floor below practically forced your eyes open. While you play the night before over in your head, trying to piece it all together, you’re scrambling to get the rest of your clothes on.

Running downstairs with your shoes untied, you let out a huge “oof” as you collide with your brother, almost sending the two of you to the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sis,” John B. says, his eyes expressing his confusion at the fact that you obviously slept upstairs last night.

“Oh, um, sorry, JB, I guess I just drank too much last night and crashed on the hammock,” you practically vomit out.

“Riiiiight,” John B. responds, clearly not convinced but nonetheless wholly uninterested in this situation in the first place. “Just, uh, go shower. You stink.”

Assuming John B.’s comment is a joke, you let out a laugh that immediately sounds forced. “Yeah, uh, that’s what I planned on.”

John B. shoots you a thumbs-up before making his way behind the counter, clearly prepping to open the bait shop for customers. Deciding to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, you begin to make your way back to the house. However, your brain can’t help but consider the possibility that only more awkwardness awaits you back in the house, which you’re really not ready to process. You spin around to face John B. at the entrance to the bait shop. “Hey, uh, is JJ up?”

John B. doesn’t even look up from whatever he’s doing at the counter, clearly focused on something else. “Yeah, he took his bike to the grocery store about ten minutes ago, I think.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, and then turn back around to make your way into the house. Occupied with trying to wrack your brain about what exactly happened last night, you again stumble into someone else as you walk through the kitchen.

“Ow,” Sarah squeaks. 

You immediately apologize, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well last night,” you explain, hoping she’ll move out of the way so you can make your way to your bedroom upstairs.

But Sarah, unfortunately, has the attention to detail that your brother lacks. Looking you in the eyes, her brows furrow. “Did you sleep outside last night?”

You scratch your head. “Uh, yeah. Just, uh, crashed after all those drinks, you know?”

One thing that Sarah does share with your brother, however, is her unwillingness to let things go. Clearly noticing that something is on your mind, her eyes stare into yours, as if she thinks that she can figure out everything about you based on your facial expressions alone. And evidently, she can, because she then proceeds to whisper-yell, “Y/N, is that a hickey?”

She lightly taps a new bruise on your neck that JJ must have left last night, and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the action. You bat her hand away, and she smirks when she realizes what you must be hiding. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you blurt out, before maneuvering yourself around Sarah and walking over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Whatever you say,” she taunts behind you, and you can practically hear her giggle as you make your way up the steps. 

Once you get to your bedroom, you lock the door behind you. Sliding down the wall, you let out a sigh, grateful that you met no more obstacles on the way upstairs. But as soon as your butt hits the ground, reality comes crashing down, and you realize that you have a much harder obstacle to deal with than running into one of your friends in the hallway. Instead, you have to deal with the fact that you slept with JJ Maybank—the man you’ve known practically your entire life who not only happens to be one of your closest friends, but even more than that, is your brother’s best friend. Yeah, you’re screwed.

For the next few days, JJ avoided you at all costs. He didn’t want to face the consequences of what you’d done, and was worried more than anything that his friendship with you (and John B. for that matter) would be ruined. And while you had the same idea for a while, within only a few days you decided that talking about it was the only way to move forward. Knowing JJ’s extensive dating history, you were convinced that JJ would only tell you that it was a mistake and a regret. You prepared yourself for the negative, and found him alone at night in the employees-only area above the tackle and bait shop.

You carefully tiptoe up the stairs to prevent JJ from getting spooked and immediately bailing on the conversation. When he notices your presence, he shoots up from where he was laying on the hammock, just like you had anticipated. “JJ, we need to talk—”

“Y/N—”

“No, please, JJ, just let me speak,” you clarify, before walking closer to him. 

Realizing he doesn’t have any other choice, JJ sighs, gesturing for you to continue.

Working up the nerves, you wring your hands, preparing yourself for a moment that seemed more daunting than any of the actually threatening experiences you’d had with the Pogues over the last few years. “You know me, Jayj. You know that I don’t have one-night stands or casual relationships. And I can’t go on like this, pretending like what happened between us is normal or that I can just ignore it. I know that you’ve probably never had feelings for me, but if I don’t tell you this now, I’ll regret it. I… I like you, JJ.” Taking a breath, you step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Only now, you have to brace yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Looking into JJ’s eyes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that’s nothing short of terrifying. You’ve known JJ since he was a kid, and he’s not the best liar, so you can usually tell what he’s feeling from the moment you see him. But this time, you’re clueless, and the silence is deafening.

“JJ, please say something. If you’re going to tell me you don’t like me back, then just say it so we can move on and put this behind us.”

He brings his hands to his face, trying to piece the words together. “Just, uh, gimme a minute.” You nod at him, before moving to sit where he’d previously sat on the hammock. You swing your knees up to your chest, hugging them in comfort. 

You watch as he paces the floor around you. It’s not long before he speaks, but it feels like hours as you wait. 

“Y/N, I… We’ve been friends forever. You, me, and John B. It was the three of us for the longest time and then Pope came and then Kiara and… Uh, I’m getting off track.” He starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb as he looks down at the ground, preparing for what he’s about to say next. “I won’t lie—you’ve always been hot. Like super fucking hot. And I’m not good at relationships or whatever, but I… I like you, too.” 

And your ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, so your head immediately jerks up to meet his eyes. “Wait… you do?” 

He nods, and you can feel a smile beginning to form on your face. “Well, then, why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” JJ answers, and your heart immediately sinks in your chest, once again. “I can’t do this to John B., Y/N. I just can’t.”

“Who cares about him? He’ll get over it. John B. is not my problem.” 

“That’s the point, Y/N! He’ll be there for you no matter what. But the Pogues are basically all I have left. You and John B. are my family, and if I mess shit up with you, I’ll lose you both. And I can’t do that to myself.”

“You won’t mess it up, J,” you reassure, though part of you understands what he’s getting at.

“When have I not messed something up? I mess shit up all the time, and you mean too much to me for me to risk it. You need to go and find someone out there better than me, because as much as it’ll hurt me to see you with someone else, it’d be a lot worse if you were in pain and I was the reason. It’s because I’m in love with you that I wish we’d never done what we did,” he blurts out. 

And while you were trying your best to listen to him carefully, all you heard was him telling you that he’s in love with you. “You… You love me?” you whisper, and JJ’s eyes go back to the floor.

“Of course I fucking do! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and funny and weird and you know me better than anyone else, and I’ll never forgive myself if I ruin shit with you. So just let me go, because this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

As you process what JJ says, he rushes down the stairs. The heavy pattern of his boots hitting the wooden floors grabs your attention again, and you sprint downstairs to meet him before he can run away completely. You grab his hand and pull him towards you. When his head moves, you can see tears in his eyes, even as the sky gets darker. “It’s not okay to just leave me here after telling me you love me back,” you choke out.

“We can’t—we’ll never be together,” he bites back, trying to sound angry. But you can read right through him, and he knows it. You drop his arm and reach up to grab his face with your hands. Your thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“JJ, you’re right: I do know you better than anyone else. And yes, you’re not the best at relationships. But don’t you think that with us it could be different? That maybe because we know each other so well we can figure it out together?”

He begins to shake his head, but before he can get any more words out, you continue. “JJ, I know everything about you. I know the worst things you’ve done and the best things. You’re always calling me a know-it-all, and yet right now you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you that I know we can do this. We can do it, and it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it because I can’t picture myself loving anyone else the way I love you.” And as the tears stream down your cheeks, JJ inches a bit closer to you.

“You… You love me?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. How could I not? You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, bravest person I know and my life would be so unbelievably boring if you weren’t in it.”

His eyes look all over your face, trying to see if he can detect a lie. But all he sees is someone so convinced in their feelings, so articulate, and he can’t believe that it’s possible but he might just love you more than he did five minutes ago. 

“Let me deal with John B., okay? I get why you’re scared and I would never want to come between the two of you, but you deserve to be loved, JJ. And I want to be the one who gets to love you.” 

As soon as you get the words out, he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you’re so glad he reached out to hold your waist because otherwise you’d be falling to your knees. It’s magical and romantic and you can taste the salty years you’ve both shed. His right hand moves to grab the side of your face and pull you even closer somehow, before moving back down to your waist and squeezing you in anticipation. The two of you break away, panting. He grips you again and gestures for you to jump, which you do, and you wrap your legs around his back. He carries you over to the counter of the bait shop, where he sets you down. Your legs squeeze his, and he grabs ahold of your face with his hands. “Before we um… do anything else… Are you sure?”

You nod immediately. “Babe, I need the words.”

Your heart clenches at the term of affection, and you pull his shirt to bring him even closer to you. “I am absolutely, positively sure that I love you, JJ Maybank.” He grins so wide you start giggling.

He smashes his mouth back to yours, and this time the kiss is hotter and needier. It’s just a mess of clashing teeth, lips, and hands, with little “I love yous” whispered in between. 

JJ tugs on the bottom of your shirt, and you break away so that he can lift it off, throwing it somewhere else in the shop. His shirt follows, but before he can unclasp your bra, you push him back. “JJ, I’m not fucking you in the bait shop.”

“It’s dark out and no one’s gonna see—”

You jump down from the counter. “It’s either in the house or in the Twinkie. Your choice,” you challenge, and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, people do it all the time,” he justifies, and you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you ask.

“Hooking up in the bait shop, duh. I caught Pope and Cleo on top of the freezer once, and I’m pretty sure I saw Kiara making out with her ex-girlfriend behind the counter.”

You roll your eyes. “You are literally proving my point,” you say, and he scratches his head. 

“Well, I know for a fact that John B. and Sarah hooked up in the bait shop once and I didn’t see anything!” he explains.

“That’s not any better! You’re talking about my brother!” you whine, and JJ starts to see that you’re not budging. 

He lifts you up bridal-style into his arms, and you squeal. “Fine, my lady, my room it is.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Have you cleaned it recently?” you ask, knowing how messy his room gets. 

“Uh… Like, maybe not super recently. But I can make it nice,” he offers.

You squint. “As nice as my room?”

“Yeah, let’s just go to yours,” he says, and you giggle at how easily he gives in. As he walks down the talk, carrying you in his arms, you can see a smirk grow on his face. “But after we’re done, it’ll be as dirty as mine.”

“JJ!”

so... what did y'all think? I might consider making a part two where john b. finds out. is that something y'all would be interested in??

also... feedback is very much appreciated - pls comment, reblog, send asks, etc.!

[featherandferns]

sugar (fic)

ex!jj maybank x ex!fem!reader | set in season 4 without the Blackbeard mystery! (non-canon) | inspiration

content warnings: mentions of/references to sex (m and f receiving; MDNI); drug use; unfaithful relationships

word count: 18k.

blurb: JJ comes back into your life - older, richer and different again from before. Can the past stay the past, and the two of you be friends, or is there too much history there to let it all lie?

Cinnamon Buns

“Where would you like these?” Someone calls out to you. You turn and take in the tray of mouth-wateringly delicious looking cinnamon buns that a volunteer holds. Smiling, you point to a far table on the grassy field. 

“Anywhere over there is good! Those look amazing, thank you so much!” 

You turn back to the task at hand: organising cans of tinned, chopped tomatoes. To your left is a stack of bags of rice and to your right, bags of pasta. It’s quick work as you separate them by flavour: garlic and herb; chilli; regular…In the background you overhear chatter of fellow volunteers. Where should I put this? Who had the plastic bags? This was your happy place. 

‘The Stirring Spoon’ is what you had called it. It was your passion project born out of daydreams. A collaborative, community effort, providing food to anybody and everybody, free of charge. It wasn’t a traditional food drive. Instead, it was like a potluck dinner that you hosted every Wednesday in the late afternoon, running into the evening. People brought whatever dish they had prepared, or any ingredients that they had going spare which you and a handful of other volunteers whipped up into mains and desserts. Tomato soup and lentil curry and meatball subs and rainbow brownies and chocolate chip cookies. You’d even managed to rope a few local establishments into it. Any leftover bakes that they had when the workday was over, or things that were just a smidge out of date by a day or two, you took and offered out. Today? Cinnamon buns that were baked yesterday at a humble cafe in the town centre, just shy of Figure Eight. Food health and safety laws were strict but you could stretch them for The Stirring Spoon. After all, you weren’t technically selling a product so no harm done. People were clued in about the supposed “risk”. 

You lift up a can of tomatoes and study the ‘best by’ date on the metal lid. A month in the safe zone. Perfect. As your mind flicks through recipes of what you could cook up, a voice stood out amongst the chatter nearby. It was like a siren’s call; distinct and damning. You could pick it out even when deaf. 

“I gotta delivery here for y’all.”

“What’s in it?”

“Fresh sorta stuff. ‘Tatoes and that kinda thing.”

“Over there, I’d say.”

As the footsteps approach you can feel your heartbeat quicken. It taps nervously in your ribcage like you’re sixteen all over again. Your focus remains on the task at hand until a slight shadow casts over you, and you know you can’t stall any longer.  Your hands freeze over a can of tomatoes. Looking up, standing in front of you, clear as daylight and bright as dawn, is JJ Maybank. He’s dressed in his usual attire of a worn-down t-shirt and shorts; his fingers and wrists decorated with metal rings and beaded bracelets. If you squinted, it’d be like no time had passed at all. He doesn’t look all that different from the last time you saw him and yet, he’s entirely changed. In his hands is a large cardboard crate of various fresh produce. You smile. 

“JJ.”

It comes out in a breath as though you’re seeing something supernatural before you. In a way, you are. How long has it been now? Two years? Nearly three?

His own surprise mirrors yours on his face. But JJ was always better at hiding his emotions, once he had a chance to catch them. It was like a teasing glimpse before he closed the curtains. His recovery is quick as a smile starts to show, and he says your name like he’s practised it everyday. 

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing here?” you ask.

“Brought some deliveries,” JJ says, hitching the box. “Kiara mentioned something ‘bout a community kitchen drive y’all do and we thought we could contribute and stuff.”

“Well, that’s nice of y’all. Thank you,” you reply. 

You shuffle some stuff out of the way on the pop-up table in front of you to make space for JJ’s box. It’s hard not to watch his arms as he lowers it down, the way the biceps flex and tense beneath the skin. It’s hard not to think of other times his arms have looked that way, wrapped around your body, tugging you closer. You blink the memories away. 

JJ’s hands slot into his short pockets. He rocks on his feet. “Looks like it’s a pretty popular thing, huh?v This food drive, I mean.”

You glance around at the bustling volunteers. Smiling, you say, “Yeah, I guess it caught on pretty quick. Could say the same about y’alls tackle-and-bait shop you got going. It’s the talk of the town ‘round here.”

JJ grins with visible pride and it isn’t until you see it that you realise how much you missed his smile. You wonder if he’s surveying your face and body the way you are his, as if looking for some inconsistency or change since the last time you saw him. 

“Yeah, it’s coming together pretty nice. Helps having a bunch of us working on it, though.”

“I bet,” you say. You’d heard the chatter on the island about the Pogue’s latest venture. The sneers of the kooks and the curiosity of the locals. Their bets and wagers on whether the business would sink or float. You’d wanted to wander down and check it out for yourself but you always chickened out. Truth was, you’d been avoiding JJ Maybank like the flu, and now here he was in front of you, putting all your quarantining to shame. Your eyes flit down at the crate and you gently rifle through the food for a distraction. Tomatoes and potatoes and bunches of fresh berries and fruit. 

“I, uh, don’t know if there’s much in there that y’all need but–”

“No, no, this is great,” you assure him, smiling. “It’s really generous of y’all. Every contribution is appreciated.”

“Happy to help. To be honest, it’s Kie and Sarah you should be thanking.”

“Yeah, I didn’t peg you as the gardening type,” you tease. 

“Well, only for the stuff that matters,” JJ grins with a wink. You consciously try to fight away the warmth running to your cheeks. Damn it, you weren’t sixteen anymore. “So…how have you been, then? Since we last…y’know–”

“Baby!”

It’s a reflex reaction to turn at the sound of Mark’s call. He comes bounding over with a wide grin. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and flour is dusted on his khakis. It’s a reflex to close your eyes when he dips his head to plant a kiss to your lips, too. You rub them together after as you prepare yourself for what might be the most awkward interaction you’ll ever go through. 

“JJ,” you say, turning to the blonde haired boy. “This is Mark. Mark, this is JJ. We used to…uh…Well, we used to hang out.”

“JJ - pleasure,” Mark says sincerely. He sticks out his hand and for a painful moment you genuinely worry that JJ might never take it. But he does, shaking it. 

“Likewise,” he says. 

You feel Mark’s spare arm slide around your back, his palm placing itself respectfully on your side. That was Mark: respectful. Righteous but not in an arrogant way. He was kind and caring without judgement, like the sort of Christian boy your nana would want you to bring home. The sort of guy who would bring your mother flowers and play golf with your father on the weekends. The kind of face you’d see flash on the television during the six o’clock news as the reporter relays a daring and heroic tale of saving orphaned kittens from a burning tree. 

“This is the guy that’s started the tackle-and-bait shop. Y’know, the one with the surf store and stuff,” you say to Mark. Realisation dawns upon Mark and he wags his finger at JJ. 

“Wait, wait, JJ as in JJ Maybank? One of the gang who found El Dorado?” 

You roll your eyes at the pure awe in his voice. JJ chuckles somewhat nervously and nods as he says, “yeah, uh, that JJ, I guess.”

“Holy shit! Baby, why didn’t you say!? Oh man, I read all about that. It sounded freaking incredible! I have so much to ask you, I mean-”

You place a hand to his chest and laugh, slightly embarrassed by his fangirling. “Baby, baby! Cool it a second, yeah?”

Laughing, you glance at JJ. And you catch it. That emotion he lets slip just before correcting himself. His eyes dart to yours in a second but they were looking elsewhere before. They were looking at your hand on Mark’s stomach. 

“Nah man, it’s cool. You guys should stop by sometime and I can tell you all about it. The other Pogues too, yeah,” JJ cordially replies. 

“Oh sick, man. That’d be great,” Mark beams. You smile at JJ and nod. 

“I’d love to see what you guys have done to the place,” you tell him. JJ smiles but it falters, like a flickering lightbulb that’s fighting to stay on. An awkward quiet passes and you clear your throat and glance around at the voluntary effort. “Well, I should probably get back to work.”

“No, yeah, course. I ought’a get back to the shop,” JJ replies. 

“Thanks for the stuff though. We really appreciate it.”

“You brought this?” Mark wonders, picking a strawberry out of the crate. He pops it in his mouth and hums happily. “Damn, those are some fresh strawberries.”

“Yeah, man. All from our local garden we got going.”

“This place sounds like the dream,” Mark tells you. You smile up at him. He takes the crate in his broad hands and lifts it easily into the air. Being sandwiched between two toned-up guys had you feeling as brittle as candyfloss. “I’ll take this over to Nancy. Nice meeting you, JJ.”

“Yeah, you too, man.”

You watch him wander off a moment before turning back to JJ. He offers you another smile. “I’ll come check out the shop soon,” you promise. 

JJ points at you, playfully warning, “you better!” before walking away. You watch him with every step he takes and the moment he’s out of sight your head drops. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding. Your entire body feels as though it’s vibrating; your heart running laps in your ribcage. And the funniest part of all is the strange thought that races around your mind, he’s real. It had been so long since you’d seen JJ, let alone heard from him, that it felt like a daydream. The memories were so hazy now that they’d been painted over in sepia and you wondered if you’d imagined the whole thing. But no, here he was, knowing you and recognising you, and talking to you. The two of you back in Kildare, seemingly for good. 

“Baby! Can you give us a hand?”

The call drags you out of your thoughts. Your eyes fall onto your boyfriend. He stands a good head taller than most people. He’s almost lanky in build but not ungainly; broad shouldered and slim nosed. His eyes are those of an otter: nearly black with how brown they are; beady and shining, even from over here. There’s a smattering of freckles over his cheeks which is adorably boyish in contrast to his stubble on the jawline. He’s smiling at you in a way that all girls want to be smiled at. Unashamed in his admiration for you. It grounds you from the dizzying interaction with JJ and you walk over to him, ready to help out in any way you can. 

The rest of The Stirring Spoon passes without a hitch or unexpected visitor from the past. It’s as popular as always, with locals and tourists stopping by. The lentil and tomato soup that you whipped up disappears within the first half hour, alongside the nearly stale but still delicious cheese bread. Mark stands by your side the whole time, smiling as he serves. He whispers little jokes in your ear that have you giggling in the quiet periods of the food drive. Then came the evening rush, with people stopping by after work. The culmination of it all meant JJ was pushed out of your thoughts and back into the long-term store, where he’d been haunting before. That is, until you’re tidying up. 

“That JJ guy seemed nice,” Mark says from the table to your right. You look up from the plastic snack-bags you’re tidying away. “You said you guys used to hang?”

“When we were sixteen,” you reply. 

“How come you stopped hanging out?” he wonders. 

You look down at the bags and obsess over the colours of the labels as you debate how best to word your reply. What do you divulge to him? There’s an index of memories labelled JJ and you know not all need to see the light of day, let alone enter the mind of your boyfriend in scarring reenactments. 

“We just grew apart. He was going through some stuff, I think, and then he got really into that whole treasure hunting thing,” you tell him. It was true enough to not be a lie. Mark hums in thought. 

“That’s a shame.”

You quirk a brow, amused. “Why? Cause I could have cashed in on the gold too?”

Mark shrugs and you laugh. “What!? I’m just saying, some people are worth staying friends with!”

But that was the thing. You and JJ weren’t just friends. Shaking your head, you close the cardboard box of repacked snack-bags and carry it over to the table where he’s working. You held him wrap individual muffins in napkins before placing them in a large tupperware box. 

“Hey, y’know what’d be nice?” Mark says. 

“What?”

“If we took them over some leftovers. I mean, we made most of this stuff with the ingredients they gave us anyway. And there’s still some of those cinnamon buns going spare.”

You take pause and look up at him. He’s obliviously working away, head tucked down to look at the muffins. There’s an easy smile that’s permanently etched into his face, as if he came out the womb cheesing away. That wasn’t why you fell for him though. No, it was his kindness. His offhand generosity that came so naturally to him it was almost offensive. Pressing up onto your toes, you cup his jaw and press a kiss to his cheek. He chuckles quietly. 

“You’re wonderful,” you hum happily. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

“You go wrap up some cinnamon buns then. I’ll pack up some of these muffins for them.”

You do as he asks and soon enough, there’s a box of miscellaneous leftovers from your food drive. Mark drives. The sky is a delicate colour of amber and pink warning of soon nightfall. Colours like that always make you feel relaxed. It helps ease the nervousness of seeing JJ again. You weren’t sure why it was making you so antsy. It wasn’t as if you and JJ parted ways on bad terms. You suppose it’s just a bitter-sweet memory. All memories of JJ came with that sour coating now, like sherbet lemons on your tongue. You wonder if you’d feel the same way if Mark weren’t around. 

But he is, and you’re glad he is. 

Looking over to him, you reach out your hand to capture his, resting on his thigh. He glances over at you and smiles. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just happy, s’all.”

“That’s good,” he says, looking back to the road. Like something from a music video, he raises your interlocked hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of your hand. “Means I’m doing something right, if you’re happy.”

It’s impossible not to do a double-take as you pull up to what was formally the Maybank property. It’s as if new life has been breathed into it. More than just a lick of paint, there’s two brand new buildings alongside a pretty sturdy looking pier and dock. There’s a handmade charm to everything that makes it all the more enticing and impressive. Mark seems to think so too because he whistles as the two of you pull up the driveway. You look to your left and see the Twinkie. A relic from your past, of memories half-naked, rolling around the back with JJ, sharing a blunt in a post-orgasmic haze. Your thoughts shut off with the engine. 

Mark takes the lead, his hand in yours, and carries the box of leftovers up to the house. You both wander up the porch and Mark knocks twice on the door. Your eyes look at everything, taking it in, admiring every detail, until someone opens the door. It’s Kiara. 

“Hey. Can I help you?” she asks your monolith of a boyfriend. You poke your head from around his body. 

“Hey Kie.”

“Oh my Gosh! Girl, where have you been?” Kie beams. The two of you embrace, laughing and smiling. “Wait - did you get the stuff I sent JJ over with?”

“Yeah, we did,” you say. “Thank you so much.”

“We actually brought this as a thanks,” Mark adds, offering out the tub. She eyes him almost with suspicion. 

“Sorry, I forgot to say - Kie, this is Mark. My boyfriend,” you explain. Kie’s eyebrows shoot up with that final word but she recovers quick. 

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” she says. She takes the box and glances through the plastic. 

“Just some leftovers we thought you might like. Muffins and cinnamon buns and things like that.”

“Thanks guys, you didn’t have to. We’re happy to contribute,” Kiara tells you. “In fact, me and Sarah were talking about maybe making it a regular thing. Like every Wednesday we bring some stuff from the garden, or fish that we’ve caught?”

“Oh my God, yeah, that’d be amazing,” you nod enthusiastically. “We can definitely figure out a system.”

“Perfect. I’ll put these inside. You guys want a drink or anything? I can show you around,” Kiara offers, opening the door wider in invitation. 

You glance over her shoulder into the room and then around the porch, behind you out to the water. You’re not sure why you were expecting JJ to just appear out of thin air in front of you. 

“JJ’s out on the dock, if you want to catch up,” Kiara posits, as if hearing your thoughts. You look at her and hold her gaze, and - unable to read what her expression means - nod. 

“I think I’ll go say hi. We didn’t get a chance to properly catch up,” you reply. You glance up at Mark. “You want to come with?”

“It’s alright. I’ll stay here and get the tour,” he tells you with a wink. You smile, press a kiss to his lips, and wander off with a wave to Kie, towards the dock. 

Feet thudding on the slabs of wood, the structure creaks as you walk to the shop. An American flag waves in the breeze. You run a hand along the thick rope bannister and glance down into the growth of plants and water weeds underfoot. I can’t believe they built all of this, you can’t help but think as you walk up to the wooden-slatted tackle-and-bait shop. As you walk into the store under the wooden ‘WELCOME’ sign, reggae music blesses your ears alongside the smell of incense. It’s jam-packed with miscellaneous water accessories: fishing gear, surfing gear, refreshments, you name it. There’s nobody behind the counter. You glance around and squint, catching onto a spot red through the window. JJ lies outside atop of a vintage cooler, feet crossed one over the other, arms tucked under his head. You can’t help but smile. Walking outside, you lean against the doorframe and fold your arms over your chest. 

“Well, as far as customer service goes, this is pretty crappy.”

He snaps up to sit like he has the joints of a ken doll. You laugh as he blinks his eyes awake, laying them on you. 

“Oh shit,” he says, clearing his throat, running a hand through his hair. “When’d you get here?”

“A few minutes ago. You looked pretty comfy there,” you say, amused. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a good nap spot,” JJ chuckles nervously, glancing down at where he just lay his head. He straightens his t-shirt and then looks back at you. His brows furrow. “Wait, what’re you doing here?”

“Came by to see the new place,” you reply, gesturing around you. “You offered.”

“Didn’t think you’d be in such a hurry.”

“No time like the present and all that.”

You’re acutely aware of how you’re avoiding mentioning Mark and how he’s currently being led around JJ’s former house and yard under Kie’s tow. 

“This is a pretty sick set-up,” you praise. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty good, huh?” JJ grins, getting to his feet. “Here, you want a beer? We’re technically closed for business anyway.”

Laughing, you shrug. “Sure. Why not.” 

Cracking open the cooler, he reaches in and retrieves two ice-cold cans. One is tossed to you and you catch it, and a feeling of deja vu rings through you. JJ, younger, just as handsome, throwing you a can of beer at a kegger. He leans against the cooler and you against a wooden pillar. Cracking cans and the fizz of beer, and you take a refreshing sip. A comfortable quiet comes and the two of you catch one anothers eyes. You smile. 

“I don’t think I said earlier, but it’s really nice to see you again,” you tell JJ. 

He smiles, small and reserved. “Thanks. It’s nice seeing you too. Even if it is with Joe America over there.”

“Joe America?” you snort. “Come on, he isn’t that bad.”

“No, no, he seems…uh, he seems nice.”

“He is nice.”

“I believe it.”

“Well…good.”

That marked the end of that conversation. You take a sip of your beer and sigh, looking out to the view of sunset over the marshland. 

“I wish you could’ve seen it,” JJ suddenly says. You look over to him with a frown, confused. “El Dorado, I mean. South America. It was beautiful. Like actually fucking stunning out there.”

“Really?” you say, smiling. 

“Hell yeah,” he grins. “Like there was colours out there that I didn’t even think existed without, like, LSD, man.”

You laugh and he does too and you’re glad whatever awkwardness that just came passed quick like a seastorm. 

“I still haven’t gone farther than Charleston, so I guess I’ll have to live vicariously,” you lightheartedly remark. 

“Yeah, well, turns out there’s a pretty big world out there,” JJ grins. 

“Glad one of us got to see it,” you hum. 

“Nah, you’ll see it too. All of it. Even Paris.”

The city’s name hangs heavy in the air. It was more than just a throwaway comment. It was a secret message, as if JJ was speaking in code. I remember it. I didn’t forget. You wash down the adrenaline with another sip of beer. 

“But no place like home, huh?” JJ says, clearing his throat. 

“Probably helps now that John B ain’t a fugitive anymore,” you muse. JJ laughs, nodding. 

“Yeah, yeah, no, for sure.”

“Well, I’m glad you found your happiness, JJ,” you say, smiling at him. “I’m glad you found yourself out.”

“Ain’t we all?”

The two of you watch one another for a moment. His resting smile lingers on the edges of his thin lips. His round, soft cheeks that add to a boyishness about him that his jawline doesn’t allow. You always liked JJ’s hair though. A mop of blonde planted atop of his head with sun-bleached highlights and deep-sea lowlights. But he’s taking you in too. You can’t take the weight of his stare after a while. Taking a deep breath, pushing away from the beam, you ditch your half-drunk beer atop of the cooler. 

“Well, I better get going.”

“You sure? I mean, we can hang out a bit longer, if you like?”

You smile politely and shake your head. “I’m not the one driving, so…”

JJ looks over your shoulder and spots Mark. “Ah. Didn’t know Dollar Store Chris Evans was here, my bad.”

“JJ! Don’t be mean!”

“I ain’t being mean! If anything, that’s a compliment,” JJ defends. You roll your eyes. “Look, I’ll see you around though. It’d suck to go back to being strangers again when we’re both in the same place for a change.”

Despite the innocence of the offer, something in your gut tells you that you shouldn’t agree. You should set a boundary there, draw a line, and leave it in the past. So, really, you have nobody to blame but yourself for saying “I’d like that” with a smile in farewell, before walking back across the dock to your boyfriend. 

Salted Chips

JJ had always been in your life. However, in the past, he was more of a background character, like an NPC in a videogame that creators constantly add in like an Easter Egg. The kind of character you’re curious about, in terms of their past and their present, their wants and their fears, but the kind you never have the privy to get close to in that way. He’d be at parties, at the surf break, at the shops or at school, but he wasn’t in your life. Until he was. 

Fate came in the form of a seating plan for history class. 

You and JJ were classmates. Table buddies. At first, the conversation was nonexistent. Sometimes JJ wouldn’t show up to class at all, either bunking off or playing truant in the bathrooms to light up a joint. But sometimes he’d come to class, usually escorted by Pope, and you’d share an uncomfortable silence as you worked through the hour. But then came an assignment that needed to be done out of class, and numbers were exchanged and words were shared outside of ‘what did he say’ and ‘what’s the homework’ and ‘what answer did you get for five?’. At your prompting to start on the project, JJ offered up the Chateau to work at, John B’s house that was a renovated fishing shack on the marsh. 

To stimulate inspiration for the poster the two of you had to create - outlining the history of the American Civil War - JJ had offered up beers and a blunt, and you were glad to take him up on the offer. If you’re going to be doing schoolwork at the weekend, you might as well get something out of it other than mind numbing boredness. It seems you saying yes to JJ’s “gifts” put you in his good books. It’s as if you could see the moment his opinion of you changed. From there, it was as if the two of you had always known the other. Conversation came easy, banter even more so. Time spent together stretched outside of the classroom and instead into lunch breaks and evenings and weekends. He’d seek you out at keggers and hang with you at the beach. Somewhere in the roots of you friendship grew an attraction from the fondness. You noticed it in his lingering glances, his drifting gaze from your eyes to your mouth to your body. Later, you heard it in his words, finding innuendos in smalltalk, catching compliments like falling stars. Eventually, both slightly intoxicated, it came to a head, about three months into this natural-forming friendship. 

“Yo!”

You turn around, beer in hand, startled by the interruption. It’s JJ. He’s wearing a cap, squishing down his beautiful locks of blonde; the muted green pairs well with his t-shirt. His combat boots sink into the ground, damp from the rainfall earlier in the day. Everything smells piney and fresh. You lift a finger to your lips to coax him to be quiet. His brows quirk up, a bemused smile gracing his gorgeous face. God really does have favourites, it seems. 

“You good?”

“Sh! You’ll scare them,” you whisper. At his cocking head, confused, you fervently gesture for him to come over. He does. His presence by your side is almost overwhelming. The buzz from the liquor makes it difficult to keep your itching hands to yourself and your inhibitions at bay. “You see them?”

“See what?”

“The birds.”

“What?”

“Look, here,” you mumble. You lean close to him so you can point clearly with your finger, just along his line of vision. A whiff of JJ’s scent dusts your nose. He’s warm like he creates heat. Through the canopy of leaves, you can make out a single branch of a tree. In the nook, against the trunk, is a nest, and inside is a bunch of baby birds, cawing out for their mother, hungry, blind. You’d left them some salted chips on the floor, crumbled and scattered, in case the mother wanted to steal some to take up and gift. She probably wouldn’t, but something about their cries made you feel the need to do something, and it wasn’t as if you could offer up your beer. 

“Woah.”

“You see ‘em?”

“Yeah,” JJ breathes. “That’s sick, how did you see them?”

“I heard them first,” you tell him, keeping your voice low so as to not frighten them. “Needed some air.”

“The smoke from the campfire botherin’ you?”

“I swear to God, it targets me,” you sincerely reply, making JJ laugh. You finally retract your finger (still sticky from the Smores made earlier) and turn, looking up at him. He looks down at you. Some strands of hair stick out from under his cap, pressing against his forehead. His brows are almost permanently slanted, eyes bright in the dusk of the evening. His shark tooth necklace sits against his chest. JJ’s lips quirk at your staring. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“You’re so pretty,” you say, shaking your head, smiling. The alcohol has given you too much confidence, it seems. Loose lips. His eyes widen in momentary surprise but he catches it, covers it well. Then, comes his mask of confidence. He gives you a cocky smile. 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” he suavely replies. 

“Nah, I mean it. You’re really something, Maybank,” you smile, doubling-down. In for a penny and all that.  

His smugness fades into something more real. He doesn’t seem to know how to take compliments like that. Then, strangely, something like panic tugs his brows together. “I’m not very good at this sorta thing.”

Your frown of confusion seems to spur him on. 

“Being honest. Real. I’m…I’m pretty fucked up, y’know?”

“The best people are,” you murmur, meaning every word. 

“Nah, I mean it, though. I’m not…I don’t wanna hurt you.” JJ says it so quietly, so sincerely, that you get the sense that he’s never said it before. Maybe only thought it on dark nights, when you’re so alone with your thoughts it’s maddening. Smiling, shaking your head, you lift a hand to his cheek. Your heart hiccups at how he relaxes into your touch. 

“I don’t think you have to worry ‘bout that,” you whisper. 

You’re not sure who moves first, whether it’s him or you, but you end up a hair-width apart at the lips. His breath is hot as it fans onto your lips. Risk comes like a lightning rod and you take it, pushing onto your toes, connecting your lips with his. His hand finds yours and squeezes. That small gesture, as innocent as it is, tells you that you’re crossing this boundary together, from friends into something more. 

Pistachio Pastries 

The smell of coffee rouses you from sleep. You hum sleepily into your pillow, nuzzling in the scent of your boyfriend: peppermint and sage. A heavy palm gently pets your hair. 

“Wake up, sleepy,” Mark murmurs. 

You grumble in protest and he chuckles. The bed dips and the duvet lifts as he climbs back into the cocoon of warmth. Rolling over, you tuck yourself against him. He always slept in pyjamas. It was adorable. Nothing cheesy: just a simple shirt and flannel bottoms. His arm hooks around your waist and holds you against him. You swear to God, you could hide here forever. Mark was safety and security. Mark was the netting beneath a trapeze artist. Mark was the emergency brake in a racing car. 

“Wednesday again,” he says, stroking the skin of your back. “Kiara messaged the Instagram page today. Said one of them will drop off an order around one-ish.”

“Sweet.”

An alarm blares from Mark’s phone and he cusses, breaking apart from you to retrieve it and turn it off. You take the opportunity to sit up and grab your coffee. The steam tickles your nose as you blow on it. Routine. Mornings spent in the mini home Mark had made in his parents backyard, in their old shed. He brought you coffee in the morning and you brought him tea before bed. You’d be asleep by ten and awake by eight. Your shifts at the smoothie shop typically followed a Monday through Friday routine, with the exception of midweek, with Wednesdays reserved for The Stirring Spoon. Weekends passed in a blink. Then, you reset to continue with the same thing again. 

But that’s okay. Routine is okay. It’s reliable. Monotonous in a way that assures certainty. Besides, you liked your job, and your coffee, and your Stirring Spoon. But maybe it might be nice to stray from it all, just for a change. 

You carefully place your coffee back on the side table and look over to Mark. He’s scrolling on his phone, lips set in a line, brows tugged together in vague concentration. A thrill runs through your body at the thought, as you press several kisses to the skin of his neck. You feel him breath beneath you. Then a kiss comes to your forehead, quick like a grandparent to their least favourite grandchild. 

“Baby,” you hum, lifting a hand to rub your finger along his jawline. 

“Mhm?”

“Do you have any, like…things you wanna try.”

He takes a moment to think, looking up from his phone. A smile comes to his face and he looks down at you, and your body burns with anticipation. “Surfing. Was never that good at it but I’d like to try it again, y’know?”

It fizzles away like water atop of a dying flame. “Oh. Yeah, no, yeah…that’s…you should do that.”

He frowns. “You okay?”

“Well, I just meant more…in the bedroom. Like anything, I don’t know…” Your face burns like you’re a nun stumbling across a Playboy magazine. “Kinky?”

“Kinky?”

“Not like oh my God, kinky. Just…I don’t know…”

He quirks a brow, smiling at you in a teasing sort of way. “You got some kink you’re not telling me about?”

“Maybe,” you tell him, hoping it comes out seductive. 

“I don’t know,” Mark sighs, resting his head back against the wall. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and you lick over your lips. He grins, like something dawned upon him, and he dips his head suddenly to press his lips to yours. “Wanna know what I’ve always wanted to try?”

“Mhm,” you say, lifting your hands to cup his face and keep him near. Yes, your body practically cries. Tell me, tell me, tell me. 

“Well,” he stalls, kissing you again. You chase his lips, shortening in breath. “I’ve always wanted–” another kiss “-to try-” another kiss “-doing it in the shower.”

It’s hard not to deflate completely with disappointment. 

Wow, yeah Mark. Kinky. 

But when you open your eyes, you come face to face with a nervous, sweet, caring Mark. A Mark who always makes sure you feel good and safe. A Mark who would never walk past an elderly man struggling to cross the road. A Mark who would donate a twenty dollar bill he found on the roadside. And you can see it in his eyes, this burning passion, this shock at his own words, because for him, that was like confessing to watching gangbang porn in a Church. So, you plaster on a smile, feigning excitement. “No, yeah. That’d be fun. We should totally do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grin, kissing him again. He sighs, pushing back against you. Your body sparks up again. The feel of his hands on your sides is like static energy. “We should try it now.”

“Now?”

“Mhm,” you nod eagerly, kissing at his lips desperately. “Good way to start the morning, huh?”

“Maybe,” he says. He pulls away slightly, guilty as he adds, “but it’s been a while since I cleaned the bathroom. And I promised my mom I’d help her out today, and I gotta be good to go in like ten minutes so…”

“Oh.”

He kisses you fleetingly on the lips and then tosses the bedsheets off his lap. You watch him get up. “But maybe soon? Like Friday?”

Routine with scheduled sex. 

“Okay,” you say through a false smile. You sink against your pillow and watch him put on his slippers. The moment his back turns, you drop the expression. You’re so disappointed there doesn’t feel much point in trying to get off by yourself now, either. You don’t seem to fix your frown quick enough before he turns back around. 

“Oh, hey, baby, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Mark frowns. He lowers down so his eyes are level with yours. You pout like a child as you look at him. He pushes some hair off your face. “I swear, if I weren’t about to go help my mom, I’d be all over you right now.”

“Mhm.” Maybe you are being a bit selfish. He’s helping his mother for God’s sake! Smiling, properly this time, you jokingly warn, “I’m gonna hold you to that, Mark.”

“You better,” he winks. He kisses you before leaving the room, into the bathroom. Sighing, you roll on your back and blink up at the ceiling. You practise your mantra - Mark is good. Mark is good for me. Mark is good. Mark is good for me - and you get up to start your day. 

The Stirring Spoon is a good distraction from your whining libido. It’s hard to think about fucking when you’re comparing shapes of pasta. And yet, you still find a way. Because as you stack packets of spaghetti, you try and recall the last time you and Mark had really good sex. Not sex where it’s soft and nice and satisfying. Sex when you feel like you might cry or scream, just to cope with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Sex when you’re actually scared that you might have a heart attack from how fast your heart’s beating. Was it ever like that with Mark? Was it ever like that with anybody else?

Yes. 

“Hey.”

The very boy who just popped into your mind like a vision stands before you, crate in hand, smile on face, as if you manifested him. 

“JJ.”

“You good? You were looking at that spag pretty hard,” he asks, amused. 

“No, yeah, I’m good,” you say. You drop the pasta like it’s incriminating to what you were thinking about. Don’t tell JJ about the hot sex I was thinking about with him, pasta, please. “What’re you doing here?”

“Delivery from Kildare County Kitchen,” he says, dropping the crate down onto an empty spot on the table. “Some of Cleo’s less deadly version of her gumbo; a few sandwiches that Sarah whipped up; and some fish me and John B caught the other day.”

“Damn, that’s quite the haul,” you say, glancing into the crate and surveying its contents. “Thanks, JayJ.”

As you retrieve the items and lay them out carefully and neatly on the table, JJ shoves his hands in his short pockets and looks around the yard. “So. Loverboy here?”

“He’s busy today, helping his mom.”

“Ah. You short of a helping hand today, then?”

“Why? You want to help?” you say, half-joking. But JJ shrugs. 

“I’m not doing much. Why not?”

“Don’t the others need you back at the shop?”

“There’s five of them, I think they’ll manage,” JJ replies sardonically. He claps and rubs his hands together. “Where do I start?”

“Um…” You stand upright and scan the area, checking what looks the most chaotic. As if on cue, the local bakery van pulls up. “Oh, sweet. Delivery. You can help me unload and log inventory.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The two of you walk over to the van, side by side, hands kept politely to yourselves. Small talk sits on your tongue but doesn’t make it into the world. 

“Morning Mr Parker,” you call. 

“Morning, darlin’,” he croons in his southern accent. “You too, Maybank.”

“Good to see you, sir,” JJ nods. 

“What you got for me today?” 

“Some good stuff, I’m not going to lie to y’all,” he grins over his shoulder before opening the doors to the back of the van. Mr Parker pulls out a tray of sealed baked goods. JJ steps in and takes it, and as he holds it you crack open the lid to peer in. 

“Pastries?”

“Pistachio pastries,” Mr Parker says proudly. His takes off his cap and brushes a hand through his short grey hair. “My wife got a bit carried away. People in this town don’t have that fancy of taste buds.”

“Maybe not on the Cut,” JJ mumbles, making you smile. 

“Well, be that as it may, glad I can contribute something to your little venture,” Mr Parker tells you. He squeezes your shoulder sweetly. “Y’all doing a good thing, with this here Stirring Spoon.”

“Thank you,” you say, overwhelmed by the simple praise. “Well, we appreciate any contribution, especially pistachio flavoured ones.”

With that, the three of you get to work carrying the four trays of baked goods to a spare table. Bidding Mr Parker farewell, you and JJ take pause against the table. 

“I think I’ve earnt a break.”

“You’ve been here less than an hour.”

“Time flies by when you’re having fun, and all that,” he says passingly as he cracks open one of the bakery tubs. He grabs one of the pastries and tosses it into his mouth. His eyes widen as he chews. “Holy shit. These are so good.”

“JJ, you’re not supposed to eat the–”

“--try one.” A pastry is shoved into your mouth. You glare at him but bite, and holy shit this is really good. It must read on your face cause JJ grins. “Yeah, right? So good.”

“Oh my God,” you mumble. The two of you smile at one another like you’re stealing cookies from a jar. 

“You remember that time we got high and raided Pope’s dad’s fridge?”

You laugh and nearly choke on the flaky pastry. “Oh my God, I totally forgot about that.”

“You were like a fucking racoon,” JJ sniggers. 

“You were the one that got me high in the first place.”

“I didn’t fucking drug you! You wanted to try it!”

“Yeah, I did,” you grumble, unwilling to accept responsibility for completely draining the Heyward fridge. 

“You’re cute when you’re high.”

You glance up at him. His smile is coy, like he knows he shouldn’t have said that. Because he shouldn’t. Rolling your eyes, you play it off as best you can. “Cute whilst I’m stuffing my face with questionable cheese?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, shrugging. “You’re cute all the time though, so guess it’s not very hard for you to be even cuter high.”

“JJ, stop it.” Your tone is gentle but firm. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” JJ says. “Captain Vanilla.”

You hate how he isn’t completely wrong. “That’s not his name.”

“It’s just too easy,” he shrugs, playful as always. “The guy is a walking textbooked ‘good guy’.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” you mumble, picking out another pastry and studying the way it’s rolled. 

“Nothing, I guess. Just find it funny.”

“Funny how?”

“That you’d go from me to him.”

You glance up from the pastry to meet his gaze. “We never officially dated, JJ.”

“Same difference,” he shrugs. “But hey - you know you. You know what you want.”

“Exactly…” 

You do know you, don’t you? It sounds like such a crazy thing to question. But the older you get, the more you think you don’t know a thing about yourself. What’s your favourite colour? What’s your favourite animal? What do you want out of your future? What do you want out of a relationship? Journeying back to the morning, your mind replays the scenes like a horror movie. The worries of when the last time you felt passion in the bedroom feeds into worries of when the last time was that you felt passion, period. Oh no: it feels like an existential crisis might be coming on, about thirty years too early.

“Hey.” You snap out of your spiral. JJ forces a smile. “Just wanna know that you’re still living, not just secure. Y’know. As a friend.” 

Funnily enough, that does little to cheer you up. 

Croissants

JJ’s skin is warm against your cheek. Your face rests on his bicep, using it as a makeshift pillow, as you lay skin-to-skin, body-to-body. One of your legs is hooked over his, and his palm rubs large, mindless patterns against the sweat-sticky skin. The room is bathed in moonlight, the curtains drawn closed, and you can hear the sounds of the marsh from outside the Maybank residency. You wonder if JJ might have fallen asleep. His chest is rising and falling rhythmically and you can’t see his face from here, to tell if his eyes are open or shut. But then he sighs and you smile against his arm. 

“Tell me about your family,” you request in the quiet of the room. 

“What about them?”

“Anything, really. Like about your mom and dad; if you have any siblings,” you murmur. 

“Not much to tell,” JJ replies in a hum. 

“Still. Tell me anyway.”

“Tell me about yours,” JJ deflects. You crack a smile. 

“Alright,” you relent. “I live with my mom and my dad. She’s a waitress and he’s a mechanic.”

“You got any brothers or sisters?” he asks, his thumb massaging your upper leg. 

“I did,” you say, your voice turning softer. “An older sister.”

“What happened?”

Your lips press together. An image flashes into your mind like a jumpscare, of a coffin dressed in white daisies and lilies. Swallowing thickly, you close your eyes and will the memory away. It’s then that you decide to confide in JJ. 

“Do you know who Andy Warhol is?”

“I recognise the name,” he replies after a moment, not questioning why the sudden change in topic. 

“He was an artist. Painted a lot of pop-arty things.”

“Is that the freakshow who painted those boring-ass soup cans?” JJ wonders. You laugh quietly. 

“I wouldn’t describe him like that but yeah, that’s the guy.”

“What about him?” JJ asks. 

“He was in love with this man, way back when. He kept a diary and this man he was in love with died, and Andy was heartbroken. But he ain’t like to say that somebody had died. Instead, he used to write that ‘they went away’, like on a trip or somethin’,” you tell him. Your voice trails off towards the end, fearing JJ might laugh at you as you go on to say, “I don’t know. I think I’d like to say that about my sister.”

JJ shifts underneath you until the two of you are lying side by side, now able to see one another’s faces through the muggy darkness of the room. His eyes glow in the non-existent light, shining and present, gazing into yours. 

“Where’d she go, then? On this trip of hers,” he coaxes. Your lips part in surprise, and for some reason, you want to cry for his small act of kindness. Then, you smile, small and sombre. 

“To Paris, in France,” you whisper. 

“She go to the Eiffel Tower?”

“Every day. She eats dinner there at night and watches it twinkle. For breakfast, she buys a croissant and sits by the Seine,” you murmur. Tears wet your eyes as you picture your lost sister, venturing the streets with the wind in her hair, kissing her plump cheeks. Your voice is thick when you continue, “it’s her dream to see all the stuff in the Louvre. She goes every week and keeps a note of where she’s been and where she wants to go.”

“Like the Catacombs?”

You laugh and sniffle. “Nah. They’re too creepy for her.”

“Damn straight,” JJ mumbles. “They scare the crap outta me.”

As a tear lets slip, trickling down your cheek, JJ reaches out his thumb and wipes it away. His hand lingers on your face and you feel yourself lean into his hold. It’s like he’s holding you up. He’s holding you together. You open your eyes into his. There’s a smile on his face, different to the others. More reserved, less obvious, so different to the JJ you’d known and heard of before. You’re terrified of losing it entirely or saying something especially stupid, and so instead you mouth two words: ‘thank you’. 

When he kisses you, it’s different too. There’s something about it, like a taste that wasn’t there before, and it lingers in your mind and mouth. It only grows as JJ deepens the kiss. Your hand traces his jawline and your fingers loop through the locks of his hair, and you tug him closer with a breath. The dance of your lips and tongues and teeth is growing more and more familiar by the day and it terrifies you how easy it has been to become accustomed to it. How easy it has been to become accustomed to JJ. Hands on your hips, JJ lifts you atop of him with a grunt, him rolling onto his back. You shrug the comforter off your back and straddle him. Your hands cradle his face, palms cupping his cheeks. You kiss him like he’s the antidote to all your ailments. Your mouth chases him in the teasing of his lips, breaking apart just to reel you back in. JJ’s teeth nip at your lower lip and pull, just so, just enough to have you whining and sighing like some lovesick fool. Maybe you are. 

“JJ,” you mewl, rocking back against him. He groans as you begin to torture his jawline and neck. Groans louder when you suckle on the tender skin by his ear, painting hickeys like a beautiful landscape. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips deep enough to leave delicious bruises. You feel him growing hard beneath you as you grind against him like some animal in heat. 

“Fuck, you’re so…Fuck…” 

Your lips continue their descent down his body. Kisses are peppered along his windpipe, bridging over his Adam’s apple, and you can feel every breath, every stutter, every sigh. Down his chest, bare and broad, and down his stomach. His hands are now free from your hips and instead they tether into your hair, combing through the strands. You look up at him from between his legs - he’s made space for you - and can make out his lazy smile through your hooded gaze. JJ’s looking down at you too. His eyes glow. 

You ghost a kiss over his boxers and he inhales a long, deep breath, his head tilting back into the pillows, eyes undoubtedly slipping shut. Lips upturning with a smile, your fingers tuck into the band of his boxers, and you pull them down his legs tantalisingly slow. Somewhere in the shadows of the room you hear him mumbling, ‘please.’ Taking him in hand, revelling in his short gasp, you guide him to your mouth. The smell, the feel - it all consumes you as you go down on him. The brush of bristly hair scratching against your nose, flooding your senses. JJ’s hand comes to the back of your head quick, as if guiding your pleasure, wordless praising your ways. Until it’s not wordless. 

“Fuck, that’s it…Taking me so fucking good, huh? Look so pretty like this…”

You hum around his length and he stammers out a moan. Your eyes flick up to take in the sight of his exposed neck, head thrown back, mouth hanging open as he lets noises slip through, shameless and sinful. And you love it, the way you can bring him to the brink, the way you can manipulate his satisfaction like moulding something out of clay. A finger here, a stroke there. The tip hits the back of your throat uncomfortably. You pull away with a damning pop and a trail of saliva connects the two of you. Resting your head against the apex of his thigh, you jack him off with your hand, almost mesmerised by the way he pulses in your hold. Maybe it’s the sounds he makes. JJ Maybank walks like he’s a God; it’s a power trip to have him weak at your hold. 

“Please, please, fuck…Jus’want your mouth, baby, please,” he begs through gritted teeth. His hand gently yet firmly pushes at your head, trying to guide you back to him, and you feel a giggle bubble up through your throat. It feels unnatural, this version of you. Sexy, seductive, sly. 

“You want my mouth?” you tease, pressing a kiss to his throbbing dick. 

“Fuck - yes, yes, please,” he groans. You glance up at him and meet JJ’s gaze. His hair, damp with sweat, hangs over his forehead, dangling over his eyes. A sadistic smile is on your face as you pull away, easing your hand off him too. His brows furrow. It’s like something snaps inside of him - some restraint he was holding breaking like the overstretching of elastic. His hands are on your in a second, gripping and grabbing at your body like you weigh no less than feathers, and you gasp as he tosses you onto your back. He’s on top of you, ravishing your throat and collarbone so mercilessly, you’re gaping at the ceiling, eyes wide. 

“Think that’s funny, huh? Wanna see how much you like it?”

You stammer something out; you don’t even know yourself if it’s a yes or no. All you know is you want him - you need him - on you, in you. Anything. JJ doesn’t make you wait. His hands pull your panties away swiftly. A finger slips all too easily through your slit and you gasp, eyes rolling shut. His laugh is deep, crooning, cruel in your ear. 

“So fucking wet for me, hm? Such a fucking slut. Wanna see how it feels?”

“P-please.”

The stretch of your walls isn’t unpleasant as he eases a finger in. You let out a wanton moan. It pumps leisurely inside, the foreign metal of his ring overwhelming, and the brush of the tip of his thumb against your clit has you panting from the pleasure. 

“Yeah, you like that, huh?”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. Then the torture begins, of the instant movement of his finger, in and out, in and out, before easing away so suddenly it’s like he was never there. After that, the faintest of pressure on the exposed skin at his mercy. His damp finger trailing the inside of your thigh. He repeats this cycle until you’re almost in tears. Your hands clutch the bedsheets in fists, feet writhing uselessly at the head of the bed, kicking at the flimsy pillows. You know he’s gloating from the power he holds. Something tells you he doesn’t get this much control in most aspects of his life. Something tells you he gets off this just as much as you. “You wanna come? Do you?”

“Fuck! Please, please, JJ, please. I’ll do anything, please, please,” you blubber. You don’t care how embarrassing it sounds; how much it pleases him. All you care about is feeling that hot, blinding, pulsing pleasure consuming your every nerve, every bone, every fibre of your being. His breath is hot against your collarbone. JJ kisses the lobe of your ear in such a tender way you wouldn’t be able to fathom the magic he works with his hands below the belt. And as you finally break, tumbling over the edge, letting out a fucked-out sob when you do, you can make out JJ’s low voice, his Southern accent thick like molasses. 

“That’s it, baby. Make a mess on my fingers.”

Smores 

Despite telling Mark where you’re going, it still feels like sneaking around behind his back as you walk up to the Pogue’s house. But this isn’t anything nefarious. This is just you breaking routine. This is you catching up with old friends, current friends, and having fun. Sharing some drinks, smoking a joint or two, sitting around a campfire. Good, old fashioned fun just like when you were sixteen. 

Yep. That’s all. 

“Hey yo! There she is!” JJ hollers the moment you come into view. 

“Hey!” you smile, waving. In your other hand is a bag filled with a six pack of beer, a packet of graham crackers, some chocolate and a bag of marshmallows. You ditch it by the cooler to hug everyone hello. JJ’s last. His arms wrap around you like tree vines, secure and strong, and it’s familiar in a way that has you lingering. Mark. You break apart and take a seat on the opposite side of the campfire to him. 

“What’s in the bag, mystery girl?” the girl you now know as Cleo asks. 

“Some refreshments,” you say, lifting up the six pack. That earns a few whoops and hollers of approval from the already tipsy group. “And some snacks.”

“Smores?” Sarah gasps. She takes the bag of marshmallows from you. 

“Just like old times,” you say. Your eyes catch JJ’s. He’s watching you. 

“Let’s light these bad boys up,” John B announces. The gang is vocal in their approval. Sticks and twigs are gathered for skewers. Marshmallows dangle over the open flames that lick into the dusky air. A marshmallow shoves at yours and you glower at JJ. 

“Leave my marshmallow alone.”

“Hey, this is America. I got rights, y’know?”

“Says who?”

“The constitution,” he retorts, grinning. You roll your eyes, trying and failing to bite back your smile. 

“Y’all better stop it,” Cleo says in her thick Jamaican accent. “I ain’t wanting any marshmallows going to waste.”

“You heard her,” you playfully quip at the blonde haired boy. He rolls his eyes at you. He’s smiling. The amber of the fire paints his face like an oil artwork. What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? 

No, no, stop it. Stop it! God, what is wrong with you? This is just because you and Mark have been a bit distant lately. Yes, that’s all. You’re getting stuck on nostalgia. It’s a mind’s trick. It didn’t work before with JJ so who’s to say it will again. The two of you are friends - he’s been a good friend - and you don’t need to go muddying the waters. You punish yourself by staring into the flames and trying to make images of Mark’s face in the fire. 

The night spurs on with drinks that wash down the sickly sweet snacks. You listen to the tales of El Dorado and laugh at the reminiscences of youthful madness when you were all in high school. It isn’t until you’re back in the bubble of the Pogues that you realise how much you missed it. It’s like rediscovering your favourite movie from childhood. It brings a certain comfort that few things can match. They ask about The Stirring Spoon and you recount the tale of how you came about with the idea, of how you got it off the ground. Nobody asks about Mark and you’re ashamed that you don’t feel the urge to bring him up, either. 

You go for another swig of your beer to find it empty. The cooler by John B is empty too, upon investigating. You drop the lid. 

“You guys got any more beers?”

“Probably some down at the fish and tackle shop,” Kiara tells you. 

“Thanks,” you say, starting towards the dock. The further you walk, the more the vivacious chatter turns into a humming like the crying cicadas and croaking frogs and cooing owls. The water laps at the wooden pillars and you smile, letting your eyes slip shut for a moment as you walk. Nature is so wonderfully peaceful. The cooler is full of bait and chum, but there’s a small section for the beers. You retrieve one and drop the lid to find JJ standing in your peripheral. 

“Holy shit!”

“Sorry!”

“What the fuck, man?” you laugh. 

“Just wanted a refill too,” he says, shooting you a squiffy smile. His hair is dishevelled. He seems to wear caps less now, you note. You’re happy about that. In your tipsy state you can admit your attraction with less shame. You chalk it up to appreciating beauty the way one can appreciate a perfect sunset or timeless painting. To stop your staring, you open the cooler and hand him a can. “Thanks.”

“Hey, cheers,” you say, holding your drink out. He clinks his against yours. “To old friends.”

The two of you take a drink. Neither of you go to move back to the other Pogues (who are seemingly in some weird charades battle that is far from quiet). JJ gestures over your shoulder. “You seen the boat yet?”

“The H.M.S?” 

“Nah, the new one,” JJ answers. 

When he walks past you, you catch a whiff of his smell and it reminds you of home. You turn and follow him. He steps up onto the large boat. It’s painted bright green and in yellow paint, the name reads The Snapper. JJ offers you a hand and you take it, letting him help you up onto the boat. You feel your phone vibrate in the pocket of your shorts but you’re in no mood to check it. 

“Pretty sweet, huh?”

“So sweet,” you agree, looking around. JJ wanders over to the main console and flicks on an overhead light. He glows beneath it. When he takes a seat on the bench, you do the same, sitting opposite. Sighing, you lean your head back against the brutal plastic. “This is the life.”

“Yeah? You miss the marsh?”

“I miss it all,” you quietly confess. 

You can hear the rustle of clothes and the flick-flick of a lighter. The smell of cannabis drifts into the air. “Here.”

Opening your eyes, you lift your head to find a joint extended out to you. Smiling, you take it with thanks and have a hit, then a second, then a third. You haven’t smoked in what feels like forever. Mark doesn’t like the smell; says it makes him feel sick. You wonder why you stopped indulging in something you enjoyed just because of that, even on your own time. 

“Thanks,” you say, passing the joint back. You ditch your beer can to the side. One poison at a time would be best in these sticky situations, you reckon. 

“What’d you mean, ‘you miss it all’?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. You gaze off into the distance; it’s hard to make out much definition in the dark, save for some lights of houses in the far distances and the silhouette of plants and trees. “I feel like my life is so…‘same’ now.”

“Same is good.”

“Sometimes,” you say. “But I keep thinking about what you said to me, the other day. About being secure but still living. What if…What if I’m not living?”

“Well–”

“--I mean, look at you guys! You went to El Dorado! You found El Dorado, and the Royal Merchant, and the Royal Merchant’s treasure, and the Cross of Santo Domingo. What did I find? A mouldy tomato in a box of potatoes.”

JJ cracks up and you roll your eyes. “It’s not funny,” you mutter, smiling nonetheless. You take the joint back and have another drag. Relief fills your system. The muscles in your face loosen along with your mouth. “It’s pathetic. I’m nearly twenty-one and I’ve been as far as Charleston and have about a handful of exciting memories to my name.”

“Woah, come on now,” JJ chuckles, taking the blunt back. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on yourself? You heard what Mr Parker said: that Stirring Spoon thing is awesome, and that was all you. You’re feeding the community, bringing people together. That’s way cooler than some shiny fucking  stones.”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Guess I’m just jealous of you.”

“Ha! Yeah, don’t be,” JJ sarcastically berates. A shadow comes to his face. Foot in the mouth syndrome curses you.

“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You’re good. I sometimes forget how bad it was too, with how things are now,” JJ admits. He smiles at you and takes another hit. “But I guess I didn’t fully let you in then, huh?”

“You think?” you jest. He laughs, thankfully, and you inhale the sweet scent of the herb. “Guess I just get stuck on the good memories from before. Like all the days skipping school to surf. And how the summers felt like they could go on forever. Or that time we broke into City Hall, or pranked Topper’s house.”

“Damn, I guess we did get up to a lot of shit, huh?”

“Damn straight,” you grin. Following the dance, you take the joint back. 

“Well, I can think of some other memories, too,” JJ says. His grin is telling, tongue poking through his teeth. You bite back your smile. 

“Don’t,” you warn. 

“What?” he chuckles. 

“Don’t! That’s dangerous territory,” you tell him. You point your joint at him. “That’s no man’s land.”

“Oh man!” JJ groans, tossing his head back. “Why’d you have to call it that!? You know that’s like calling a moth to a fire or whatever!”

“What?” you giggle, eyeing him. 

“Telling a guy not to do something is the exact thing to do to get a guy to want to do something,” JJ argues nonsensically. You laugh, shaking your head at him. He holds your gaze and you feel your smile settle into your skin like footprints into damp sand. “They were pretty good memories, huh?”

“Yeah,” you quietly say. “They were pretty good.”

“Remember that time we did it on the beach.”

“Stop it,” you say, but there’s little conviction in your words. You can’t take his eyes anymore, the blue dragging you under like currents in a riptide. You look down at the joint and fixate on the way the embers burn at the paper. 

“Or that time–”

“JJ, I mean it,” you say, your tone losing its humour now. You shoot him a look that you hope will put a pin in it. “We should talk about something else.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ surrenders, holding his hands up and all. He relaxes back against the plastic seat of the boat and you do the same. Your legs outstretch so you can rest your feet on the spot beside him. The two of you catch each other’s gaze and look away, chuckling bashfully like preteens. You take another hit of the joint and watch the smoke fizzle away into the night. “How’d you meet Mark, then?”

You glance at JJ. “A few months back. He’d just moved to Kildare and came by to The Stirring Spoon to help out, and we sort of hit it off.”

“He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you smile. But it fades. The weed tickles at your emotions, pulling the wires as if to wreak havoc. JJ seems to take advantage. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie. You take another hit and shake your head, plastering on a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Sighing, JJ folds his arms comfortably over his chest. “Y’know, just cause I know what you look like naked don’t mean we can’t be friends now.”

Barking out a laugh, you shake your head. “There was definitely a better way you could have put that.”

“Probably,” he shrugs, grinning, “but it’s true, ain’t it? We can be friends.”

“Of course we can. We are,” you emphasise. 

“So…That means that if you wanna vent about Mr Loverboy to me, you can,” JJ offers. 

Laughing, you rock your head back and gaze up at the sky. The stars are out. They shimmer white and crystal in the abyss of the night. “That’d be too weird, I think, but I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.”

“I just got one question. Just one.”

“Go on,” you reluctantly reply. 

“Does he say ‘thank you’ after the two of you fuck?”

You burst into fits of laughter. It’s so sudden that it has you doubling over. Tears slip from your eyes and you wipe them away, looking at a grinning JJ. God, you missed him and his twisted sense of humour. 

“He just looks like the kinda guy who would!”

“Oh my God, no!” you laugh, shaking your head. Catching your breath, you manage out, “no, he doesn’t say ‘thank you’.”

“Is he the sub then? Cause there is no way that guy is laying his hands on you without written permission.”

“JJ stop! I’m gonna pee myself!” you cackle, kicking your feet. JJ starts laughing too. You open your eyes and make out his face in the lowlight of the pier’s lamp. Wheezing, you catch your breath and calm yourself. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

“I can give the guy pointers if he needs them,” JJ jokes. Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets just at the idea though and you point at him in another warning. 

“Don’t you dare!” you say, trying not to crack up again. “‘Sides, he doesn’t need pointers.”

“Everybody needs pointers,” JJ says with a roll of his eyes. “John B gave me one of the best pointers.”

“I find that impossible to believe,” you snort. 

“He did! It was a tip for kissing. Works like a fucking charm too, I’m telling ya.”

“Mhm, I’ll bet,” you sarcastically return. You glance at the joint to check if it needs tapping off, take another drag, and then look up to find JJ watching you. He hasn’t changed enough for you to forget what that expression means. 

“You want me to show you?”

“Show me? How?” you say with furrowed brows. Something in the air shifts with your question. An unspoken thing, an unseeable thing, but something nonetheless. A nervous tickle comes to your throat. 

JJ doesn’t reply but he slowly leans over the seat towards you. Your breath catches in your lungs the moment he enters your bubble, breaking some unspoken barrier, and your smile fades away like day into night. You feel as though you’re stuck in place, plastered to the seat, and you’re ashamed to admit that you don’t hate that you are. You’re ashamed that you’re not pushing him away, telling him to buzz off, laughing at his idiocy. You’re ashamed that you’re curious as to what he’s going to do next. 

JJ’s close enough now that you can smell him. His cologne mixed with something sweet but tangy, like seasalt and citrus. Something masculine underneath, that has a primal instinct inside of you wanting to claw its way out. Your fingers grip the edge of the seat instead. Your eyes stare into his. You study the laps of green and grey in the sea of blue, mesmerised in the way the night sky reflects in the iris. His gaze darts down to your lips and you have no idea how this happened and how you got here, and everything is blurry but so, so clear from the cannabis as he leans forward, and you can’t move but you should move and you want to move but you don’t, you never want to move again, as his lips brush against yours just so, just enough for you to know that they have, that he has, that he’s real, but that he hasn’t, and that you can take it all back, and that it doesn’t count and it shouldn’t and you shouldn’t but–

Your hand clutches his jaw and you pull him in. His lips crash against yours in a breath. You kiss him like you won’t ever kiss him again. He sighs against you in the hurried mesh of mouths, groaning as your tongue brushes against his, tasting him for the first time in years. It’s like finding a childhood toy and it smells like nostalgia. It’s like eating a baked good and it tastes like a specific holiday. It’s like smoking your first joint and it feels like floating. 

Until you’re not. 

Your body falls back down to earth with a thud. You shove JJ away as if he’s flammable and you’re the deadly spark. Your mouth hangs open in shock, your eyes filling with horror, and the worst feeling you’ve maybe ever felt overcomes you so suddenly, you worry you might be sick. 

Guilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper. You lift a hand to your lips and your fingers brush against the damp of his spit that lingers, and it confirms that it was all real. “Oh my God.”

JJ’s lips move to try and formulate words but nothing happens. He looks just as stunned as you do. His eyes are wide, lips swollen, cheeks pink. Those three words bang about your brain as you take in the sight of him. It’s not at all unfamiliar. 

Hot ash from your joint drops onto your thigh and you cuss, brushing it off. You toss the joint into the sea behind you as if it’s the culprit, the plotter, behind all of this. Then you’re on your feet and rambling out excuses. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I think it was - it was definitely the weed. I really should go, it’s so late. I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I have no idea-”

It’s as you’re about to step off the boat and onto the wooden pier that JJ’s hand locks around your wrist. It freezes you in place once more and you want to climb out of your body and scream at yourself. Instead, you look down at him. 

“You can stay, y’know,” JJ whispers. There’s a pleading in his eyes, a tenderness that you haven’t known before in him, and you finally know how Eve must have felt with that damn serpent in Eden. Temptation at its finest, dressed up in blonde, unruly hair and dreamy eyes and sculpted muscles and a graphic tee. 

Mark. 

You shake your head and snatch your hand free. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.”

And no matter how vehemently you tell yourself that you mean it as you hurry away from the pier and from the house, you know you don’t. 

Cheap White Wine 

The tart tanginess of the wine is sharp on your tongue as you take another swig. It’s late, or perhaps early, and the Chateau is illuminated by amber and orange from lamps. It’s raining outside as hurricane season rattles on, but you and the Pogues could care less. When you have wine, you really have everything you need. 

“Come on, come on!” Kiara laughs, egging on you to loop your arm in hers. The two of you line dance together to an old noughties CD in the player. You swing one another around in a tipsy haze to the upbeat tempo. Pope and John B heckle and holler from the pull-out sofa, toasting their beer cans up in approval. You’re happy here, like this, in your bubble. As the song comes to a close on a major chord, you and Kiara giggle and take joking bows to your audience. You frown when you look around the room, not finding JJ anywhere. 

“He’s on the porch,” Pope says, seemingly catching on. 

“Thanks,” you smile, a little embarrassed that you’re that easy to read. Taking the wine, you venture out the door, closing it behind you as another song starts up. Kie’s cheer and begging for John B to dance is muted through the shutters and windows. 

JJ sits on the sofa, a joint lit up, legs outstretched on the coffee table. He glances up at the sound of someone coming out and smiles at the sight of you. 

“Hey. Can I join?” you wonder. 

“Course,” he hums, shuffling a cushion in invitation beside him. You sit and lean against him, hitching your feet up onto the table beside his. He knocks one of his shoes against yours teasingly and you smile. Through the netting of the porch, you can make out the lashing of rain in the yard. It’s pitter-pattering is soothing like a nursery rhyme. You sigh and let your eyes slip shut. “Having fun?”

“Always,” you mumble, making him laugh. “You got any dreams?”

“Like sexy ones?”

“No,” you giggle, elbowing him, making him let out a few laughs too. “Like actual dreams. Ambitions. A wish.”

JJ takes a pause for thought. You have a swig of your wine as you wait, revelling in the sound of his heartbeat through his shirt, steady and constant. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Your heart sinks with disappointment. This wasn’t the first time this has happened. It felt as though every time JJ came close to pulling back the curtain and letting you see a glimpse, he caught eye of something that scared him and he slipped it shut again. He told you what he wanted to tell you and kept the rest close to heart. You weren’t going to pry his cards from his body to see them, but it would be nice if he showed you them once in a while. It felt like the more time you spent with him, the less you knew. You could guess things from small clues as if playing a boardgame. He hardly went home, never mentioned his mother, and his father came into conversation with a shadow. He spoke lowly of himself, presumed the worst before others could, and it saddened you how clearly he believed everything he said. JJ couldn’t see himself the way you did. 

“I do,” you whisper, hoping it might entice him to share. 

“Oh yeah? What’s your dream?”

“I want to start a kitchen.”

“Huh?”

“Like a community kitchen thing. Not a bakery or a restaurant, just a place for all kinds of food, for all kinds of people, y’know? A good thing, like that. My sister used to help out at a soup kitchen and…I don’t know. I always liked that.”

JJ squeezes your thigh in acknowledgment. “Sounds fuckin’ amazing.”

“Thanks.”

In the Chateau, John B and Kiara laugh and Pope speaks loudly over them, something teasing, and you smile. The smell of weed fills the air before you and blends in with the notes of your wine and the telling scent of JJ. You wonder if the smell of you affects him in the same way; if the flavours of your perfume haunt him when he can’t sleep the way his cologne does for you. Suddenly, somewhere in the serenity of the moment comes a calamitous realisation, like a rumble thunder breaking the rain. 

You were falling in love with JJ Maybank. 

Biscuits  

Food poisoning. That’s what you’d told Mark. The heavy sickness that had sat in the bottom of your stomach like a boulder since last night lingered still. You hoped it was a hangover, but that passed with an advil. You knew what this was. 

You only escaped the guilt in your sleep. The moment you returned home, you climbed under the sheets of your bed like a child hiding from the bogeyman. Sleep was the only reprieve, though it didn’t come easy, and the second you came to in the morning, the first thought in your head was the look on JJ’s face just before his lips touched yours. 

Fuck. 

Your phone pings with another message that is no doubt from Mark and you can’t bring yourself to look at it. It doesn’t help that there’s a framed picture of the two of you staring at you from the bedside. It was his gift to you for your one month anniversary, because of course Mark cares about one month anniversaries. You hadn’t gotten him anything; you had to make up some lie that it was late in the mail, and then run to the shops that night. Just further proof that you don’t deserve him. 

Hello, hell? I’d like to reserve my spot in advance. Queen sized bed please, for me and my whorish ways. Much love. 

When the phone begins to ring you groan aloud and send it straight to voicemail. You bury your head beneath the pillow and close your eyes, but the memories haunt you like flashbacks. JJ’s eyes. JJ’s lips. The way he tasted, the way he bit your lower lip just so, in that way that only he knows, in the way that he always knew drives you crazy–

“Stop it!”

Hello, hell? Quick update: I think I might be going insane, too. Just thought I should preface you. 

Somewhere in your self-loathing, you manage to drift off into another restless sleep. It’s broken by a tapping on your door. Groaning, you force yourself out of the safety of your bed and wander to your door, expecting to find your mom. Instead, your head tips back to see the face of your boyfriend. 

“Hey,” he says. His voice is thick with concern, brows knitted with worry. “How you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Thankfully, you didn’t have to lie with that one. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to check on you,” he replies. He steps into your room and you make space, sitting on your bed. He closes the door behind him. “I tried calling but you didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, sorry, uh…I was just feeling really frail, y’know?”

“Oh, baby,” Mark sighs. He sits beside you on the bed and places his large palm on your forehead. His brown curly hair sits in perfect ringlets atop of his head. One dangles over his forehead, out of formation, and it reminds you of JJ. Just how you went from me to him, JJ had said. Were they that different, after all? “You got a temperature?”

“I don’t think so,” you say. You gently push his hand off your face. “I think I just need to sleep.”

“Well, I’m here to take care of you.”

“Really?” You hope the dread in your voice isn’t obvious. 

“Course. You’d do the same for me,” he smiles. He lifts a bag you didn’t even notice he was carrying and shows you each item. “Mama’s homemade biscuits. She’s real worried about you, y’know?”

“I’m fine,” you insist, “just a bit sick. I think the worst of it has passed.”

“That’s good, then. I’ll make you a hot drink, yeah? We can watch a movie or something. You get cosy,” Mark tells you. You nod and try your best to smile. Mark leans forward and presses a fleeting kiss on your lips, and the sickness comes back tenfold. You want to cry the second he’s out of your room. 

Mark is good. Mark is good for you. But what if you’re not good for Mark? 

Chocolate Chip Cookies

“I don’t understand.”

You sigh, rubbing tiredly at your forehead. Bile lingers in the back of your throat but you swallow it down, alongside the feeling of self-reproach. This was it: the conversation you’d been dreading. The conversation that needed to happen. You’d rehearsed your words in the mirror like practising lines for a play. Journals and diaries filled with debate, as to whether you stay or bolt. But now was as good a time as any, and you knew in your mind what the right thing to do was. You can’t risk getting in the car accident if you step out of the vehicle. 

“Did I do something?” JJ then asks, his voice weak, naked. You meet his gaze and shake your head firmly. 

“No,” you breathe, “no, you ain’t do nothing, JJ.”

“Then I don’t get it,” he repeats, stronger this time. Frustrated. You knew none of this would be easy. 

“Look,” you cut yourself off with a sigh. You shuffle your crossed legs, sitting on JJ’s bed in the Chateau in a way that you never have before, as if you’ve never stepped foot inside his life. “My parents are heading to Charleston for a couple months anyway, to stay with my grandmother and help look after her, and…well, maybe it’s for the better, that we have this distance sooner rather than later.”

“Distance?”

“You’ve been removed, JJ,” you mumble, hoping not to sound accusatory. “And that’s okay, I know you’re busy. I mean, you told me from the start that you don’t do the whole relationship-thing. But I don’t think I can stay, not right now.”

“Okay, is this some kinda joke?” JJ snaps. He gets to his feet and paces a few steps in the small throughway of his bedroom. Taking off his hat, JJ rakes his fingers through his hair. He looks at you, eyes fiery, expression hard as if to shield from the hurt that you don’t mean to cause. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I thought we were fine.”

“We are fine,” you insist. Sighing, you try and find the best way to explain yourself without giving it all away. “Look, I ain’t meaning that you’re a bad guy or that you’re damaged or anything like that. I don’t think that, not at all. But…How can I explain this?”

JJ takes a moment or two to calm himself as you hang your head and clench your eyes, searching for the perfect turn of phrase to make your thought process make sense. You find it. Lift your head, soften your gaze at the hurt on his face, and try your best to smile through the sorrow. This wasn’t easy for you either. 

“You know when you see a tornado?”

He stares at you for a short while before nodding, urging you to continue. 

“Things that like…They’re always so pretty for afar. So mesmerising, how nature can create something like that. Stunning, really. Epic. But then, you get too close, and you get sucked in. And it’s just chaos and there’s no way out of it without being broken.”

JJ nods again, pursing his lips. 

“I think that’s what might happen here,” you whisper. “If I stick around.”

“I don’t get it. You’re saying I’m gonna break you?”

“No, I’m saying…I’m saying you’re not in a spot right now to give me what I need. That ain’t your fault, JJ, but I can’t let myself stay knowing that I’m gonna have my heartbroken. I wish I could - I wish I could just wing-it like that - but I can’t.”

There’s a pregnant pause that JJ drags out, staring at you as if trying to see into your head, searching for some lie. Sighing, he must come up empty, as he takes the spot beside you on the bed again. You test the waters, leaning against his chest, feeling the warmth radiate through his t-shirt. One of his hands lifts and strokes your hair, smoothing it down. 

“I really do care ‘bout you, y’know? Like, that ain’t fake,” JJ admits in a hushed tone. 

“I know, JJ,” you reply, just as soundless. “I just think you gotta figure yourself out before you can…”

“...love you?” JJ hesitantly whispers, after you lose nerve. Your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Mhm.”

“You can’t love me ‘til then, either?”

Laughing sadly, you shake your head against him. He really couldn’t tell how much you’d fallen for him already, could he? “I don’t think you gotta worry ‘bout that ever, JJ.”

A soft kiss is planted on your forehead. “So…Just gotta do some soul searchin’, huh?”

“Somethin’ like that,” you hum. “But hey, I tell you what.”

You break apart from the comfort of his hold, tilting your head so you can look up, into his eyes. The pain in JJ’s gaze tears you like wrapping paper, and it’s worse to know it’s your fault, but you know that it’s the only way to save you both from further pain. It isn’t the right time, and that’s a shame, and it isn’t fair, since you’ve memorised the outline of him and drawn him into all your plans and daydreams. But you can hear it when you talk and feel it when you sleep together, this detachment, this removal of himself, that can’t come until he’s healed in a way that he’s far away from now. There’s something pulling him away from you, an adventure of sorts, and you don’t want to keep him from it. You want JJ to love you but you want him to choose you, too. And until then, you don’t have it in yourself to sit around on the sidelines, waiting for your heart to be broken. It’s like sitting a toddler in front of a plate of chocolate chip cookies but demanding them not to touch; the temptation might just kill you. 

“What?” JJ gently prompts, bringing you back from your thoughts. 

Your smile is sick with inner lamentation. “If you do figure yourself out, after some soul searchin’ and all that, then chances are I’ll still be here. So, I guess, if you ever feel like fallin’ then lemme know. You can catch me on the way down.”

JJ’s smile is beautiful, even when his eyes are wet with unshed tears. You lean up and press a fleeting kiss to his lips, but you don’t let yourself linger. If you do, you’re afraid you’ll never leave. You murmur some sort of goodbye, making an excuse that you should get going, and JJ doesn’t argue. He watches you as you stand, waves farewell with two-fingers as you leave, and you walk home with your heart halfway broken but more whole than it might’ve been if you stayed and tried to make this impossible thing work. JJ wasn’t ready to fall in love, not yet, but you already had. 

Ham and Cheese Sandwiches  

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I promise,” you reply to Mark, smiling reassuringly. You wonder if it looks like a grimace. It feels like one. Even touching him makes you want to cry, as you brush your hand atop of his on the table. Your feigned food poisoning was two days ago now but Mark was still worried for your health, likely because you were still acting so withdrawn and drained. It’s hard to sleep when you’re consumed by guilt and confusion. “Why don’t you see if Nancy needs a hand in the kitchen, yeah? I can work on the inventory out here.”

“You sure? I don’t mind helping.”

“I��m sure,” you nod. “I can come get you if I need anything.”

“You better,” he grins. He dips his head and kisses you and it takes everything inside of you not to pull away like a flinch. It’s not him. It’s you. You feel like you’re poison. Like JJ’s kiss has infected you and you can’t get Mark sick too. His brown curls bounce as he walks back to the building. You busy your mind with counting tins of soup. The Stirring Spoon had never had so many posters, so many new recipes, with how much you’d been trying to keep yourself busy. You picked up extra shifts at the Smoothie Shop to avoid Mark during the daytime, and you submerged yourself in your voluntary-planning work and ‘early nights’ to avoid him during the night. It wasn’t fair to him but you didn't know what else to do. 

Well, that’s a lie. You know exactly what you should do, but denial is so much easier. 

Ducking down, you grab another box of leftover soup from a local supermarket. They’d recently changed providers and all the old stuff had to go. You were thinking of making toasted sandwiches with soup. Grunting, you lift the box onto the table. The sun beats down on you as if the universe is punishing you. Good, it’s the least I deserve. 

You can spot him anywhere, even blind. He’s in the far corner carrying a smaller box than usual, compared to his crate. A sudden wave of panic comes over you and you speed walk over to him. He frowns as you approach. 

“You good? Hey!” 

You grab his arm and drag him out of sight from the field, behind an overgrown bush. “W hat are you doing here?” you hiss. 

“Bringing sandwiches?” he replies, as if it should be obvious. “Are you okay?”

“JJ, you can’t be here,” you snap. “Mark is literally in the other building!”

“So?” 

“So? Do you…Do you not remember what happened the other night?” you ask, calming down slightly. 

JJ sighs and puts the box down on the floor. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs. “Look, clearly you spun out. I ain’t gonna mention it if you don’t want me to.”

“Wait…Really?”

“Jesus Christ, I ain’t a homewrecker,” JJ chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. You want to crack a smile but you think your face might be permanently stitched in perpetual concern forever. His laughter dies. “Listen, I think you got some stuff to figure out, a’right?”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t get offended! I’m jus’ saying…” JJ cuts himself of with a sigh and brushes a hand through his hair. He pinches the bridge of his nose. You missed all his little ticks and quirks. “Look, don’t kill me for sayin’ this, I’m just tryin’ to be honest. I don’t think Mark’s the right guy for you.”

“I-”

“I’m sorry, a’right? I don’t think you want to admit it either but…I think you gotta be honest. You don’t love him, okay? And that’s a’right, I’m not saying he’s a bad guy. I just think you need to make a choice.”

“What does that mean? A choice?” you quietly ask, terrified for his answer. 

His smile is sad as JJ shrugs. “I was an idiot to lose you once, I ain’t gonna lose you again - not if I can help it. If Mark’s who you want - if Mark makes you feel like you’re living - then I’ll never bring it up again. Hell, I’ll stay away from you forever, if you want. Least, I’ll try to. I don’t know if I can be held accountable for when I’m drunk but- look, now I’m getting side tracked. The point is:”, JJ speaks with his hands,  “if Mark isn’t the one for you…I’m here to catch you, y’know?”

You blink at JJ and blink away the tears. You’re not sure if you can form words right now, not even sure what words they would be, so you try your best to nod. JJ tries another smile. 

“There’s some sandwiches from Kie and Sarah for today. I hope it all goes okay. Just…lemme know. Or don’t, y’know? Either way,” he trails off with a shrug. You feel cemented into the dirt as JJ backs away. Then he’s gone. Your eyes slip shut. Some weird hybrid of JJ and Mark’s faces fill your thoughts. 

‘If you ever feel like fallin’ then let me know. You can catch me on the way down.’ 

‘I’m here to catch you.’ 

You need to figure this out and fast. It wasn’t fair to anybody, not even yourself. Dragging things out doesn’t make it any easier, it only delays the inevitable, like tediously inching a bandaid off the skin. Sometimes you just have to rip. You just have to prepare for the aftermath.

How ironic, how when you were sixteen it was you waiting for JJ to figure himself out, and now it’s your turn. It’s a shame you were never all that much of a fan of irony. 

Cinnamon Buns 

Baking is therapeutic. The precision of weighing out the ingredients; the cathartic relief from beating together butter and sugar until fluffy like clouds; the tapping and cracking of eggs; the rhythmic folding of flour; the soon-to-arrive reward for your labour. You like baking when life gets stressful. Few things are so systematic, so simple, so quick to resolve, as baking. Life is more complicated than that. 

Mark and JJ. Two sides of different coins. Neither good, nor bad. Human, just like you. 

As you prepare the batter for cinnamon buns, you try to make sense of everything. Figure yourself out, as JJ had put it. 

Mark was designed to be easy to fall in love with. It was as if the universe had a recipe for him, everything the girls crave, the people fawn over in romance novels, the parents pray for in their child’s partner. Responsible; caring; thoughtful; kind; secure; safe. Mark was good. There was no other way to put it. Hell, you met him at a voluntary community kitchen. He gave you stability like a white picket fence. Perfect and practised, like he’d been waiting for that his whole life. But you found yourself restless in the fairytale. Found yourself itching for change, for chaos, for clutter. He was sentimental in a way you weren’t. That wasn’t to say you were heartless - the two of you just loved differently. 

JJ Maybank? He wasn’t designed for it in the same way, but it was impossible to not fall in love with him. You knew it from the moment your paths crossed, back when you were sixteen and the two of you tumbled through two months together. That’s why you left in the first place. To save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that it would bring, because sixteen-year-old JJ was in no place to commit to anybody. You assumed that with time your feelings would fade away and when you met Mark, you believed they had. You liked Mark - that wasn’t false - and you had feelings for Mark. But the love you had for JJ didn’t vanish. Like energy, it could only be transferred. It went into the back of your mind as if in hibernation but the moment JJ waltzed back into your world, it was awake. It was impossible to ignore. 

Mark was the netting beneath a trapeze artist, but JJ was the acrobat. Mark was the emergency brake in a racing car, but JJ was the driver. But JJ was safety too. He made you feel safe, but he also made you feel alive. 

And you wanted to feel alive. 

Mark was routine. He was predictable. You could see the next five, ten, twenty years of your life laid out nice and neat with Mark. But did you want that? Did you want to give up the adventure? The chaos? The things you missed so desperately. 

As you drizzle the topping on top of the cinnamon buns, you summarise your scrambled thoughts into one neat realisation: you wouldn’t have kissed JJ if you truly wanted Mark. 

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat as you walk to Mark’s house. The buns sit neat in the tupperware and you’re careful not to shake them. His door looks like a tombstone as you knock on it. There’s a noise from inside and the door opens. Mark smiles down at you. He’s dressed in a baby-blue waffle sweater and it’s so undeniably, so wonderfully him. 

“Hey!” he grins. 

“Can I come in?” you ask. It sounds ridiculous asking that when you used to sleep in this house almost daily. 

“Course,” Mark replies. He opens the door further and you slip inside. It shuts behind you. You place the tupperware on the countertop, taking too much time in letting go. “You alright?”

“Mhm. I just…I think we should talk about some stuff,” you say, feeling your voice losing power. 

“Alright. Come, sit,” he urges. You do as he asks and take the spot on the bed beside him, leaving a gap. “What’s up?”

You fumble your fingers together and stare intensely at your hands, racking your mind for the words, for where to start. You’d practised this so many times in the mirror. Childish. 

“I did something and I need to tell you, because you’ve always been so good to me, and so honest with me, and it isn’t fair to hoodwink you.”

“Okay,” Mark faintly replies. 

You take a steady breath in. Mark is good. He deserves the truth. “I went to see JJ last week, and one thing led to another, and we kissed.”

For a moment, there’s nothing. Just the sounds of the air conditioning unit humming as white noise. Then, 

“Oh.”

You clench your eyes shut before looking up at him. He’s detached in his expression. Your eyes fill with tears. “I’m so sorry, Mark,” you whisper, scared your voice will break if you talk any louder. He meets your gaze. “You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You’re such a good, genuine person. I just…I don’t know why, but I just…I can’t love you.”

Mark swallows thickly. The tears are warm and sticky on your cheeks. It’s so selfish to cry when you’re the one who threw the punches. You hang your head with shame and watch the teardrops land on your restless hands.

“I swear I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even know I still had feelings for JJ until…Well, until then.”

“I did.”

Your head snaps up. He’s staring at you, but he doesn’t look angry. No. There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips. A sad smile, no doubt, but a smile nonetheless. 

“You did?”

“The minute you saw him, that Wednesday at the start of the month. I saw it on your face, clear as day. You never used to look at me like that.”

“Mark–”

“--That’s okay,” he nods. He’s crying too, now, and you’re not sure what to think, what to do. But Mark does. Of course, he does. His hands reach out to hold yours, warm in his clutch, and you blubber like a petulant child. “You’re not a bad person, Y/N. I could tell something was bothering you this past week.”

“I just didn’t know how to tell you, and I didn’t even know what it meant. But I have to be honest for the both of us, and I don’t…I don’t think I’m the girl you’re looking for, Mark,” you say through your tears. 

Mark smiles solemnly and nods once. The squeeze of your hands tells you everything. I know. I agree. It’s okay. 

“Do you hate me?” you ask in a moment of pure patheticness. Mark laughs and shakes his head. 

“You’re too pretty to hate.”

“Ugh! You can’t say things like that!” you whine, throwing your head back. He laughs again, soggy with his sorrow, and he shrugs. 

“Just got to keep my good-guy rep up.”

Laughing, you shake your head at him and smile. The two of you share a breath and he nods. A conclusion. His smile dwindles. 

“I’m gonna need time, though…Before we can be friends, maybe. Just to…You know…”

“Of course,” you whisper. “I understand. Whatever you want, whatever you need. It’s all on your terms, I promise.”

Mark nods. Thanks you. It is so fucking bizarre to have the man you cheated on thank you but here we are. Life is full of strangeness. 

“Can I give you a hug?” you wonder. Chuckling, he nods, and you waste no time in throwing your arms around his shoulders. Mark holds you in the embrace and the two of you savour the feeling of one another for one last time. Against his shoulder, you murmur, “I’m going to miss you, Mark.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” he tells you into your collarbone. “JJ’s a lucky guy. But make sure to tell him I know where he lives if he hurts you.”

You tearfully giggle against him. “I’ll pass on the message.”

Bacon Sandwiches

It’s warm today; bright and brilliant. The critters are happy, chirping in the trees, croaking in the overgrowth by the water of the marsh that lines the Pogue’s house. Your footsteps feel heavy as you walk up the driveway, anticipating weighing you down. You lift a hand to shield your eyes from the sunlight and make out JJ. He’s at the entrance to the shop, stood a few rungs up a free-standing ladder. He’s trying to staple something to the walls - a banner of some kind - and you make your way over. 

“Need a hand?”

He jumps and you cringe. Oops. JJ looks down at you and his lips quirk at the corners. The muscle tee he wears is grey and hangs loose on his well-kept frame. He’s armed with a staple gun. “Yo. What’re you doing here?”

“Want a hand?” you repeat, nodding up at the banner, not quite ready to confess. JJ shrugs and nods. 

“Sure. Thanks.” 

You glance around and find something that looks sturdy enough to stand on. Dragging it over, you boost yourself up and hold out your hand to take the other side of the banner. Holding it up against the wall, JJ leans forward and steadies himself with an elbow on the wooden panelling. 

“We’re selling bacon sandwiches on weekends now, so thought we oughta advertise it, y’know? So, anyway, what’re you–” a grunt and a click of the staple gun, “-doing here?”

You step down from your boost and JJ takes your place. You don’t speak, stalling time, as JJ secures the banner. Sighing, taking it in, nodding with contentment, JJ jumps down and ditches the gun. The he stands with his hands on his hips and looks at you, shrugging again. 

“I, uh…I needed to talk you,” you say, clearing your throat. 

“A’right. What about?”

“Just like…” You rock your head back, take a breath, and steel yourself. Somewhere in that split second, you find a new mantra. JJ is good. JJ is good for me. I’m good for JJ. We’re good for each other. Smiling, you look at him again. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” he mumbles. 

There’s a playfulness, a teasing, as you shrug. “That you’ll catch me.”

You can see the words as they process through his head. See the moment he tracks the meaning, parses it altogether. A smile, beautiful and brimming, greets you, and then JJ crosses the gap between you in two large strides. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you up in an embrace. He swings you around for good measure and you laugh, looping your arms around his shoulders, holding him close, smiling against him. This is good. 

“You mean it?”

“I mean it,” you whisper in reply. He carefully reunites you with the ground. You smile up at JJ, gazing into his blue eyes, bathing in their depths. Your hand strokes along his jaw, slides down his front until it rests just above his heart. “It was always you, JJ.”

“You think…You think you can love me now?” he nervously asks. 

You shake your head with a silent laugh. It feels like breathing, like you’re finally free, as you admit, “I’ve always loved you.”

It comes and goes like a comet; the flash of shock in his eyes; the glow of his smile; the burning passion of his lips on yours. And as you kiss JJ, without guilt, without fear, you finally feel at home. When you break apart, short of air, JJ rests his forehead against yours. His thumb smooths along the soft line of your jaw and you smile. He takes a small breathe, shaky, unsure, but JJ's words are sure like bedrock.

"I love you too."

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i care for you still

ex bf!jj maybank x fem!reader

cw — talks of a breakup, both cry, fluff, kissing, angst, implied sex

summary — after a few months, you finally decide to talk with jj one on one.

a/n — idk why jj just popped back up into my mind but i wrote this in like 20 minutes so excuse me if its garbage. please request though!!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

it’d been months of tense hangouts with the pogues, months of jj moping around, and months of your friends begging you to just talk to him. you’d tried multiple times but he was stubborn. every conversation somehow ended with you two back to the same topic of your past relationship.

it wasn’t that you didn’t love jj anymore, you were sure part of you always would. he was your first boyfriend, first love, first kiss, first time, first everything. he’d always have part of your heart. he was the one who taught you real love.

but there was that saying that went “you can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself,” which couldn’t be more true. you couldn’t pin why or when it started, but you slowly started to lose yourself. your mental health began slipping, you hated looking in the mirror, and you wanted to do nothing else but rot in bed.

in turn, you started pulling away from jj which only hurt him more than you knew. it broke your heart, and it broke even more to have to break up with him. but you couldn’t just string him along when you knew you weren’t in the right state to be in a relationship.

after you’d done it, the two of you took a break from the pogues in fear you’d have to see the other. in the early months, it felt like you’d never get over him and the thought of having to see him only made your heart ache more. thankfully, you still had sarah and kiara to keep you company while he had pope and john b.

after a while, you both began hanging with the group as a whole. it was always tense and awkward but you still tried to enjoy it and not make it weird for your friends. on the odd chance that you were alone with him, he’d always bring up your relationship and ask where it went wrong.

once he’d received no real answer the last ten times, he just stopped asking. he had realized maybe it was better that he didn’t know. he’d heard rumors of you messing with other guys and he wasn’t sure he could take it if he found out you were truly with someone else.

this all brought you here at the chateau with your friends. you all were sat on the porch, besides jj who was sat in the hammock with a can of beer in his hand. you were completely zoned out and definitely not listening to the argument between john b and kiara about micro plastics.

you sighed and took a sip out of your bottle of water before getting up to use the bathroom. “be right back,” you told the others as you stood and opened the front door to go inside. you toed past the small piles of clothes on the floor and picked up some empty cans on the way to throw out.

you headed into the bathroom and turned on the sink, pressing some cold water on your skin to cool off before washing your hands and looking at yourself in the mirror. you chewed your lip anxiously as you just stared.

you had to have been in there for a few minutes, maybe five if you had to guess. then there was a knock and the sound of kiaras voice. “we’re heading out to get some more beer. you want anything?” she asked, slightly muffled through the thick wood.

“no, i’m okay,” you replied quickly knowing you definitely didn’t need to be drinking heavily tonight. you heard her mumble a quick goodbye before her footsteps got louder and the sound of the front door echoed through the empty space. you dried your hands on the towel behind you then made your way back through the house.

you stepped outside onto the porch, freezing when you were met with jj. “thought you went with them,” he said awkwardly after clearing his throat. his body stiffened and his hands fidgeted with one another.

“uh, no,” you stammered just as awkwardly. “i was in the bathroom.” you didn’t even know why you said that. he didn’t need to know that and he probably didn’t care either.

he shook his empty can in his right hand. “we’re out of beer,” he explained almost as if he were letting you know why he was up on the porch in front of you. the last thing he needed you thinking was that he was some weird stalker.

you nodded. “i heard,” you said and stepped aside to allow him to walk past you and into the house. he quickly walked inside and to the fridge in search of something. “are you okay?” you blurted out as you followed him in even though you most likely knew the answer.

“fine. you?” he replied bluntly. he knew you weren’t stupid and he knew you were definitely onto him. he closed the fridge door and leaned against the kitchen counter to look at you.

you frowned slightly at his cold attitude. “i’m sorry, jj,” you said softly. “i’m sorry about the way i treated you.”

he bit the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms over his chest, looking off to the side for a second to gather his thoughts. “why’d you do it?”

you almost chose to play stupid for a second and ask what he meant but you’d had this conversation one too many times to not know what he meant. only this time, you intended to finish it. “i was scared,” you began timidly. “i wasn’t doing good and i was scared to hurt you.”

“but you did,” he replied just above a whisper. the air was thick with tension and the house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop and every floorboard creak.

you pursed your lips into a thin line and nodded sadly. “i know. i thought breaking up would make it easier instead of dragging you down with me,” you said with the same softness in your voice as his. “but it didn’t and i hurt you. and i’m sorry for that.”

his eyes bored into yours, his once energetic, bright blue eyes now a more dull, tired shade. “why couldn’t you just talk to me about it? i coulda helped you.”

you could hear the shake in his voice. the conversations never really went this far, usually stopping the moment they started because you just couldn’t handle it. and here you were, beginning to choke up. “because i didn’t wanna bother you,” you stated.

“it wouldn’t have bothered me, you know that,” he said, uncrossing his arms and instead placing them behind him on the counter. “i woulda wanted you to talk to me if somethin’ was up. i coulda been there to help you or at least support you.”

you bit your lip nervously and looked down at your hands, now beginning to pick at your cuticles. “its hard to talk about,” you muttered. “i jus’ didn’t feel good about myself and i couldn’t put that on you.”

he let out a shaky breath. “i woulda done anything for you,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanted to be there for you.”

you heard the soft sob that slipped past his lips. the two of you were reopening old, unhealed wounds now and the unshed tears that had been pushed down for months were beginning to finally surface. you finally looked back up to his face, him already looking at you with tears in his eyes. “do you want a hug?” you asked gently.

when he didn’t reply, you took cautious steps toward him to give him an opportunity to back out before wrapping your arms around his neck. you immediately felt his arms lock around your waist tight and him crane down to bury his face into the space between your shoulder and neck.

his body shook with sobs as he cried into your t-shirt. it only made your heart break more and in turn, you felt tears finally fall down your cheeks. “i’m really fucking sorry jj,” you mumbled through your wobbling voice.

“it’s okay,” he sobbed, squeezing you a little tighter against him. “i forgive you. i forgave you months ago.”

you frowned and closed your eyes, just savoring the moment between you two. it felt like the world went silent for a moment. like it was just you two again. you missed this feeling and by the way he was clinging onto you, you assumed he did too.

you two stayed like that for another minute before he finally began to pull away slowly, still keeping his hands firmly holding your hips. your arms stayed linked around his neck with how close the two of you remained. “gimme one more chance,” he mumbled, his intense gaze staring right into you.

you closed your eyes and sighed. “jj—“

he cut you off. “please, sweetheart. i don’t want you to be alone. whatever you need, ’m here. i jus’ wanna be here for you.”

“you can’t fix me,” you replied honestly. “this is something i need to do on my own.”

he thought for a moment before nodding. “thats okay. you can do it alone. i’ll jus’ be here to support you.”

you felt your bottom lip wobble and your eyes burn with tears. you’d never really had someone like jj who stuck with you through your stubbornness, someone who continued offering help even when you consistently denied and subconsciously began to self sabotage. “i don’t wanna dump all my problems on you.”

he wiped the drop of liquid that ran down your cheek with his thumb before taking both your hands in his own. “don’t worry about that. just worry about you, ok? i got the rest.”

you shook your head. “that’s not fair to you, jj.” you leaned your forehead against his chest to hide your face when you felt more thick tears fall silently.

he brought one hand up to cradle the back of your head while the other intertwined your fingers. “if it means you’ll feel better, then i don’t care. i just wanna help you. trust me, ‘m gonna be fine.”

you immediately began to melt when you felt his hand play with your hair softly. you couldn’t say no to him, you never could. this was the man you were completely and utterly in love with and even after putting him through so much, he was still this soft with you. how could you just move on?

pulling away from his chest, his hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, cradling it in his large palm. his thumb lightly traced your cheekbone as he searched your eyes for any negative signs, anything to tell him what he was about to do was wrong.

when he found absolutely nothing, he surged forward and pressed him lips to yours. you sighed into the kiss, months of longing and passion poured into one simple movement. his other hand moved from yours to your hip inside, squeezing lightly at it and pulling you closer so your body was pressed to his.

“fuck, i missed you,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, slipping his tongue inside and moving his hand that was once on your cheek to your neck to gently press at the sides. you felt a little lightheaded at the action in the best ways possible.

the kiss was slow and passionate, something you’d missed so desperately about being with jj. he didn’t often rush things like this. he preferred to take his time and make you feel all woozy and worked up.

you could feel him begin to get slightly antsy, unsure of what to do with his hands. you chose to grab the one on your hip and slide it down lower. he instinctively brought the other one down as well and cupped your ass before laughing against your lips when you whimpered.

once the two of your finally needed to catch your breath, panting and mingling your breaths, he smiled cheekily. “how ‘bout we make up for lost time?”

you couldn’t help but return the same smile. “i think i like that idea.”

he wasted no time in grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up, heading straight for the guest room he claimed as his own.

[sleepyjuice]

jj maybank masterlist

smut is tagged * MDNI.

fics/one shots

patience is a virtue *

r u mine? *

this is where i want to be *

weed, sex, beach *

blurbs/filled requests

jj accidentally hurts you during sex *

jj + his big mouthed gf

little kisses

teaching you to surf

protective jj

cute little twirls

aftercare

matching pj's

dog dad jj

do you regret it?

can you stay? *

you're so warm

jj's hands pt1

jj's hands pt2

jj picks you up from girl's night

jj taking care of you on your period

jj being pussy whipped

sex with jj while he's crying *

jj taking care of pregnant gf

jj helping you through a migraine

fourth of july fireworks *

jj braiding your hair

anniversary beach date

can i come over?

acts of service from jj headcanon

dancing in the rain

praise kink *

jj is a human furnace

jj eats your ass *

groping *

69 *

cuddling

eating jj's ass *

jj texts/social media

jj coded texts pt1

jj coded texts pt2

your instagram stories

jj's instagram stories

fratboy!jj au

moodboard

texting fratboy!jj

jj writes your name on his dick *

your instagram stories

plug!jj au

moodboard

can i pay another way? *

plug!jj is a munch *

texts from plug!jj

enemy!jj au

moodboard

making out *

[l0vergirlwrites]

always, forever ; jj maybank

synopsis: after the events in morocco, you can’t help but think about how you almost lost the love of your life.

warnings: general angst themes, mentions of blood & death & weapons, established relationship with jj, mentions of season 4 episode 10

note: obx season 4 actually didn’t end the way it did btw!! this is how it should’ve ended!!

the warm night air at poguelandia was filled with laughs, cheers, & various conversations between the pogues as the radio blasted in the background. it was a pogue style celebration for getting the crown, for fighting tooth & nail, & for being a team.

while the rest of the pogues were on the upper level by the hammocks, feet pounding against the wood with each jump or dance move, you had situated yourself on the main level’s porch, your eyes trained on how the current in the marsh moved, the way the willows bent to the wind, and the fireflies floating through the atmosphere.

you should’ve felt more happy, bursting with joy with each beer you nursed, dancing by jj’s side like there was no tomorrow. but part of you just couldn’t shake the near death encounter you both experienced.

*~*~**~~*~**~*~**~*

the sand was everywhere, whipping at your bodies quickly as you ran through narrow pathways. jj’s hand was tightly holding yours as you led the two of you, his other securing the blue gemmed crown to his waist. gunshots & yelling men could be heard in the background, making you run faster out of fear.

“turn right up ahead!” jj yelled through his bandana covered mouth, squeezing your hand as a signal.

you turned, coming face to face with a wooden door which seemed promising. one minute, you were opening the door. the next, you were in the arms of a dangerous man.

groff had a knife to your neck, pressing hard into your skin as a warning of what he was really capable of. you struggled to breathe in his hold, chest rising up & down frantically as you stared at jj.

the blonde moved slowly towards you, negotiating a trade off between him & the man who’s supposedly his real father. in a swift motion, the crown was in groff’s possession & you were safe in jj’s embrace.

you remember his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, his broken voice assuring you that you were okay when your fingers dug into the clothing on his back.

however, this moment was short lasting because jj let you go so he could face groff one last time.

once you saw groff’s blade twitch in his hand, you pulled jj back as groff moved forward. his knife luckily didn’t go deep into jj’s side, & you had kicked it out of groff’s grip. soon enough, groff was kicked into a ditch below & jj had clutched his side.

the cut was easily remedied by your caring hands, ripping off some of your clothes to press into his side. you were crying by this point, being comforted by jj’s voice & hands as he slid down against the wall. your hands pressed into the wound to keep pressure on the slow bleeding, trying to remind yourself that it was minor & it could’ve been worse.

it could’ve been way worse.

**~*~*~***~*~~**~*~~**~*~*

“was wondering where you went, baby”

you blinked hard, running a hand over your face before turning to the blonde. you smiled at him as he sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his embrace.

“i didn’t go far” you mumbled as you pressed a kiss into the skin on his shoulder, lips touching an old scar of his while you squeezed his knee.

jj couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your hand on his knee wearing the ring he stole for you on your ring finger. “knew it’d be the perfect fit” his thumb pad ran over the silver ring, turning his head to look into your eyes.

you didn’t say anything else, just needing to kiss him because words were too difficult. “i really love you” you breathed out against his lips, unable to hide your smile when he kissed you harder at your omission, his hand on your cheek holding you in place.

jj repeated those words back to you as he pulled away, his thumb running across your bottom lip in thought. he could tell the events from morocco were weighing down on you, he could see it in the way you looked at him.

you were scared that he might vanish somehow after coming so close to it. the thought of it weighed down on him too.

“i’m not going anywhere, you know that right?” he spoke softer now, eyes trained on yours despite his hand pulling one of your free ones to his heart.

with your palm pressed against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. it made you tear up involuntarily. “i know,” you nodded, clutching the material of his shirt. “i just… m-my mind won’t let me forget it”.

your eyes drifted to his left side, where you could see some of the medical bandaging you had put on earlier peeking out from under his shirt. his cut was healing, he was okay—but you knew it was gonna leave a permanent scar.

jj nodded understandably. he himself had his own internal battles with what happened, the small injury he had sustained.

“if it weren’t for your quick thinking, i—“ he stopped himself from saying it. “you saved me, baby” jj smiled, wiping the stray tear that fell onto your cheek without a second thought.

“well, you saved me first—“ he shut you up with a kiss, brushing his nose against yours.

“we’re always gonna save each other. i know that” you whispered against him when he pressed his forehead into yours, his arm around your shoulders securing you to him—to remind you that nothing will come between you two.

“always” jj agreed, a sappy laugh escaping his chest when you hugged him, your face seeking comfort in the crook of his neck.

he melted into your touch, breathing in the scent of your perfume like a vice as he let out a few tears of his own.

“it’s us against the world for life. always, forever” & you couldn’t agree more.

[rafesfavgirl]

her lips on your neck — j. maybank

meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz

❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞

pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader

context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST

"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.

"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.

what could they possibly be talking about?

"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.

"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."

john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.

"we gotta tell her," pope adds.

they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.

"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.

when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."

"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.

you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.

"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.

"y/n…"

when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.

"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.

"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.

"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”

that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.

john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.

j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.

you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.

letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.

“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.

by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.

you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.

“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.

“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.

it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.

“why’d you do it?” you ask.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”

“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”

“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.

“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.

“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.

“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”

jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”

you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”

“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”

“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes. 

“just trust me,” he tells you.

a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.

“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”

“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp. 

there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.

"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."

you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.

you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"

"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.

"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"

"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."

his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.

"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.

"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"

"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"

there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.

you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."

"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."

your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"

if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

[shortnspidey]

DROWNING IN THE DARK

jj maybank x fem!kook!reader || WC: 2.4K

SUMMARY: A storm brews over Kildare Island, mirroring the growing turmoil within. After a tense encounter with his father, JJ’s anxiety spirals out of control. Seeking solace, he turns to the only person he seeks the comfort of, but the newfound relationship, still tender and fragile, is tested by the intensity of his emotions. As the storm rages outside, a more profound storm rages within JJ, leaving him lost and uncertain.

WARNINGS: established relationship, talks of anxiety, fear of storms, self-defeating thoughts, implied abuse, heavy angst with a happy ending

A/N: should I have been working on my homework instead of writing this ... probably but I couldn't help myself! We're also going to pretend the ending of OBX 4 did not exist! Divider by @marvelstoriesepic

➩ main masterlist

➩ obx masterlist

based on this request!!

Kildare Island was no stranger to storms. They were as much a part of the island’s identity as the weathered pilings and the salty sea breeze. But this storm was different. The salty wind whipped through the narrow streets, carrying with it the scent of impending rain. As the sky darkened, a sense of unease settled over the island. For JJ, the storm outside mirrored the tempest brewing within. A recent argument with his father had left him feeling raw and exposed.

His mind, once a carefree ocean of thoughts, was now a tumultuous sea, each wave of anxiety threatening to drown him. Ignoring his father's parting words, likely a stinging rebuke, JJ slammed the door shut, the echo of his anger filling the silent house. Stepping out into the storm, he was oblivious to the rain soaking his clothes and the distant rumble of thunder, a harbinger of the chaos to come. With one final, lingering glance at the house that had never truly felt like home, he turned away, his determination resolute.

He strode towards his battered motorcycle, the keys igniting with a defiant roar. As the engine roared to life, he disappeared into the night, leaving behind the storm within and the storm without. In reality, he had no idea where he was going. The Château was out of the question; John B and Sarah were likely seeking shelter together, and after his last unexpected encounter, it was best avoided. Pope was probably grounded, a consequence of their latest escapade. And Kiara's parents, ever wary of his influence, would not welcome him with open arms.

Which left only one option, a risky one at that. You. JJ still couldn’t quite believe he had managed to convince you, a Kook, to talk to him, a Pogue, let alone spend any significant amount of time with him. Much less how he had managed to become your boyfriend. Your worlds were as different as night and day. You were the epitome of grace and poise, a creature of refined taste and elegant manners. He, on the other hand, was a tempestuous force of nature, a product of his upbringing, raw and untamed.

Yet, there was an undeniable connection between you, a magnetic pull that drew you together despite your differences. Almost as if it was muscle memory, or maybe it was his subconscious, he pulled up to your house, a mix of anticipation and dread filling his chest. Your family’s grand, imposing home stood in stark contrast to the weathered houses of The Cut. It was a world apart, a world he didn't quite belong in. That's when he felt it. The rush of anxiety he believed to be gone immediately resurfaced, the familiar knot tightened in his stomach.

Placing a hand on his chest, the only way he had ever learned to self-soothe, he tried to get as much air in his lungs as he could. He didn’t know if it was the rain, the storm, or the thought of facing you looking like a complete wreck that was the cause of his state. The tension in his shoulders, the knot in his stomach, and the rapid beating of his heart were all signs of the anxiety that threatened to consume him. "JJ," A voice cut through his thoughts, startling him. He looked up to see your father standing on the porch, a few feet away. It was as if his brain had played a cruel trick on him, conjuring up a figure from his worst nightmares.

He immediately stopped his pacing and stiffened up expecting a tirade of insults or a physical altercation. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned to face your father, his eyes scanning the man's face for any signs of anger. He'd learned early on to anticipate the storm before it hit, to brace himself for the inevitable. But it never came. Instead the eyes of the man in front of him softened, taking in his disheveled appearance. "What are you doing out here so late?" Your father asked, his voice laced with nothing but sheer curiosity. "I-" JJ's voice trailed off, completely caught off guard by the unexpected kindness.

He'd always been wary of your father, viewing him as a formidable opponent. Of course, your relationship was still new and "meeting the parents" was never really brought up. However, in this moment, he saw a different side of the man, a side that hinted at empathy and understanding. "C-Can I please see Y/N?" He had managed to stammer out, barely recognizing his voice. This was it. This was the moment your father would shoot him execution style on your front porch. But for the second time that evening, JJ was surprised to see your father opening the front door and turning back to him.

"What are you waiting for, son?" Your father coaxed, gesturing towards the open doorway. "You'll just get sicker the longer you wait out there." His tone was gentle, almost paternal, but JJ couldn't shake the feeling that he was being treated like a stray animal. He hesitated, taking a cautious step forward as if expecting a trap to snap shut. "Y/N should be upstairs," your father continued, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "If I had known you were coming over, I would have set a plate for you at the dinner table." JJ's jaw dropped. Could he have heard that right? Was your father actually inviting him to join the family for dinner?

It was a surreal moment, one that he couldn't quite comprehend. Just as he was about to thank your father for his unexpected kindness, your voice cut through the silence. "JJ?" The blonde boy's face softened as he turned to see you standing a few feet away. "H-Hey, pretty girl," he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. An overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms surged through him, but he hesitated, mindful of your father's presence. He should have known better than to let his guard down.

Before he could think twice, you had already closed the distance, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck in a bone-crushing hug. The force of the embrace nearly knocked the two of you off your feet. "You're shaking," You murmured, concern etched on your face. "Is everything okay?" You parted from the hug, but kept a firm hand on his arms, feeling his cold skin beneath your palms. "It is now." He nodded, offering a weak, forced smile. “You’re in good hands, son," Your father's voice broke the silence. "See you both in the morning.” You gave your father a reassuring smile before guiding JJ upstairs.

JJ's eyes scanned the room, taking in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the scattered books on the nightstand, and the framed photos on the dresser. He'd never been in your room before, and it felt oddly intimate. A sense of peace washed over him as he stood in the middle of your room, the warmth of your presence comforting. “You know,” you began, breaking the silence as you shut your bedroom door, “I’m glad you’re here.” He turned to face you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Me too,” He replied, his voice barely a whisper. "I just wished you didn't do it in the middle of a storm." You chastised pacing around the room.

JJ watched as you pulled out clothes out of a drawer and gave him a look. “Strip.” His eyes nearly budged out of his head at your words. You, his innocent girlfriend who blushed at any of his sexual innuendos was commanding him to get naked. His mind raced as he tried to process what you’d just said as you handed him a pair of your sweatpants and a t-shirt. "What? Why?" He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. You rolled your eyes playfully. "You’re soaking wet, and I don’t want you to get sick. Plus, these are way more comfortable than those jeans you’re wearing." You turned your back to him, giving him some privacy.

As he slowly undressed, a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement washed over him. He'd never been so vulnerable in front of you before. When he was finally changed, he turned to face you, feeling a bit self-conscious. You smiled at him, a warm and inviting smile. "Much better," You said, taking his hand. "Now, let's get you warmed up." You led him to your bed, the soft mattress inviting. "Get in." You ordered, a playful glint in your eye. He hesitated for a moment, but then climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. You sat beside him, your legs tucked beneath you. "You know," You began, "I've missed you." Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

JJ's heart pounded in his chest. He turned to face you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've missed you too," He admitted. A comfortable silence fell between you two. Scooting closer to him, you gently pushed a strand of his sun-kissed blonde hair away from his cerulean eyes, a detail you'd always adored. In response, he wrapped a strong arm around your waist, as if he was afraid you might vanish into thin air. "Penny for your thoughts?" You whispered, your voice barely audible. You knew something was amiss. The usual witty banter and teasing remarks were absent, replaced by an unusual quietude. You didn't want to pry, not if he wasn't ready to share.

Upon hearing your words JJ hesitated. He knew he should tell you, confess his deepest, darkest secrets. But the fear of losing you, of you realizing the truth about him and rejecting him, paralyzed him. You were everything he wasn't, everything he longed for. You were kind, understanding, and patient. He didn't deserve you. He had grown up in a world of violence and neglect, a world where love was a foreign concept. His father's abuse had left deep scars on his soul, shaping him into a man who was both fiercely loyal and deeply troubled. He was afraid that if you knew the real him, the broken, damaged version, you would turn away.

He was afraid that you would see him for what he truly was: a lost boy, a product of a harsh and unforgiving environment. You’d seen that look before, a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. It was a stark contrast to the bravado he usually exuded, the tough-guy facade he’d built to protect himself. But you knew there was more to him than that, a depth that hinted at a troubled past. Your relationship was still young, fragile, and beautiful. You’d fallen for the boy beneath the bravado, the one who made you laugh, who saw you for who you truly were. But you knew there were parts of him he was keeping hidden, secrets buried deep within. He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m scared, Y/N. Scared that if you knew the real me, the me before you, you’d leave. You’d realize you deserve better.” His eyes, usually so full of life, were now clouded with doubt. Your heart ached for him. You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours under the covers. “JJ, whatever you’re going through, I’m here for you. No matter what.” You coaxed, hoping that your words were enough to dwindle the storm brewing in his mind. Because you desperately believed that JJ Maybank deserved the world. He looked at you, disbelief and hope warring in his eyes. “You mean that?” You nodded, your voice steady. “I do. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

Like a dam that was waiting to collapse, he broke down into your arms, his sobs muffled by your shirt. You held him tightly, stroking his hair as he cried, the tears soaking your shoulder. In those minutes, which felt like decades, his walls collapsed, telling you each one of his darkest truths as if he had been given a truth serum. He poured out his heart, revealing the hidden scars of his past. The boy you'd fallen for, the one who'd always seemed so confident, was now raw and vulnerable, exposing the depths of his pain. You listened, your heart breaking for him by each passing second. You knew that his childhood had been far from idyllic, but you had never imagined it was this bad.

You held him as close as you could, offering silent comfort. "I'm so sorry, JJ." He nodded, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm trying to move on. I'm trying to be better." You smiled at him, your heart overflowing with love and compassion. "You are better, JJ. You're strong, and you're kind. And I'm so lucky to have you. Why would I want anyone else when you're perfect in my eyes." That's a first he thought to himself. JJ had been described as many things—reckless, impulsive, and even dangerous. But never perfect. He was overwhelmed by your words, his heart filled with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

Which is why those three words and eight letters tumbled out of his lips before he could overthink them. "I love you." He didn't care if it was "too early" the look of pure adoration on your face was reassurance enough that he hadn't fucked up the timing. "I love you too JJ. You have no idea." The world seemed to slow down as you gazed into his eyes, a profound connection forming between you two. Upon hearing those words he surged forward meeting your lips, gently but with a passionate purpose. It was a kiss that held the weight of a lifetime, a culmination of years of longing and heartache. He'd spent his life being told he wasn't good enough, that he'd never amount to anything. But in your eyes, he saw something different.

He saw love, acceptance, and a future filled with endless possibilities. As the kiss deepened, he felt a surge of emotion, a love so pure and profound that it seemed to defy all odds. In that moment, he knew that he'd finally found his home, his safe harbor, and the love he'd always dreamed of. As you parted for air, you couldn't help but notice that his body had fully relaxed against yours. Threading your fingers through his hair, you knew it would lull him to sleep. "Good night, JJ. I love you," You breathed out, burying your face in his shoulder. The blonde boy didn't hesitate to reciprocate, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. As the minutes ticked by, JJ felt the storm that had once consumed his thoughts begin to dissipate. Holding you close, he allowed himself to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[maybanksprincess]

thinking about mean jj after you tease him... ᥫ᭡

your boyfriend was in a shitty mood, and you knew better than to tease him, but you wanted to see just how far your could push him.

just before you and the pogues went to the beach, jj repeatedly told you to change out of the skimpy bikini you were wearing, but you didn't listen because the bikini was just so cute!!

when you all got to the beach, you sat on jjs lap in a beach chair, and you decided to grind on him intentionally, knowing it would wrack up his nerves again.

but what you didn't expect to happen, was for him to pick you up by your thighs, and carry you over to the twinkie. you look up at his face, and immediately realized how fucked up you are.

his eyebrows are furrowed, his tongue is on the inside of his cheek, and his jaw is clenched, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and lust. your cheeks immediately flush, and you speak with a soft voice, but he cuts you off before you can even get a sentence out.

"jay—"

"shut up."

you gulp and look everywhere else but his eyes. you could tell you really set him off, and you didnt wanna fuck yourself up more than you already had.

he sets you down in the passenger seat in the twinkie, slamming the door. he goes over to john b, telling him that me and him were going back to the chateau.

john b nods him off, and jj comes back with that same cold and irritated expression he had with me a few moments back.

he gets in the drivers seat, slamming the door and putting the key in the ignition.

~

when he parks outside the chateau, he gets out, opening your door and tugs you out by your arm roughly. hes dragging you into the nearest empty room, shutting and locking it behind him.

he slams you down on the bed and wraps a large hand around your neck, squeezing it with little pressure. "you think 's funny to tease me an' shit, huh?" he says, using his other hand to smack your cheek, the force causing your head to turn sideways.

you couldn't deny that it was turning you on, seeing him so mad made you wanna get your brains fucked out, but if you pushed him any further, all hell would break loose.

"no daddy 'm sorry" you squeak

"—y'know what, shut up and turn around."

you silently obey him, and turn to lay on your stomach, your face pushed into the pillow causing your lipgloss to smear.

"don't even wanna see your face right now." you hear him grunt from behind you, following the sound of his swim trunks coming down and his erection springing against his stomach.

he pushes your head further down into the pillow, and his two large hands grab your bikini bottoms, ripping it in half with no sort of effort. he tosses them off onto the floor, and gives you no warning as he pushes his whole length into your cunt from behind.

you let out a loud scream from the sudden fullness in your belly, trying to crawl forward to ease some of it out. he immediately jerks you back forward with an annoyed sound, burying himself to the hilt, the action causing his heavy sack to slap against your clit, making you whine.

he pulls himself out almost completely before slamming back in, his balls hitting your clit with every deep thrust he makes.

all you could do is take it. you were so helpless beneath him as he completely destroyed your pussy. you were drooling onto the pillow, your face pressed down into it forcefully, sticky lipgloss all over your mouth.

you reach a hand back (stupidly) to try and slow his harsh thrusts, but he throws your hand back where it was, and wraps a meaty arm around your throat, trapping you into a tight headlock.

he nears his release, his thrusts become faster and deeper, his balls now hitting your clit with more force. all you can do is whimper and whine from beneath his strong and meaty arm.

next thing you know, he's cumming inside your cunt with a groan, his thrusts slowing.

when he finishes, he shoves you down onto the bed, pulling out and tugging himself back into his swim trunks.

a/n: this shit is so filthy and i love it. requested by my baby @jjmaybankssurfergf enjoy, mwah ᥫ᭡

[rafesbabygirlx]

You’re All I Have

Masterlist

JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: you are JJs best friend who’s not John B or Pope and he always comes to you when something happens.

A/N: loosely based of the scene of Luke and JJ in the show

Word count: 567

Warnings: parental abuse, gun, kissing, angst, fluff at the end of

JJ bursts through the door of your small shack, the wood rattling as he steps in. You’re just a mile down the road from him and it seems trouble had found him again. You’re sitting on the couch with a textbook in your lap, trying to make use of a rare day off, but the sudden commotion jerks your attention his way. You can’t see his face clearly; his head is down, and his whole frame is shaking. He paces, muttering something under his breath.

You set your book aside and jump up, reaching out. “JJ? What’s going on?” He swats your hands away, but you know he means no harm—just caught in the whirlwind of whatever just happened. You reach out again, dodging his attempts to push you back, and finally manage to hold his face in your hands. “Talk to me, J. Please.”

He raises his head, and your heart drops at the sight. His face is bloodied and bruised. “Damn it, again?” You pull him to the couch, guiding him down gently. Without another word, you rush to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Back at his side, you open it up and start tending to his injuries, every movement practiced, almost automatic now.

“We were arguing—same as usual,” he mumbles, voice thick with frustration. “But this time, it was my fault. I threw the first punch, knowing he’d just take me down. It’s always my fault.”

“J, don’t say that,” you whisper, dabbing a cut on his cheek. “You don’t deserve this.” Your fingers gesture lightly over his bruised face, reminding him of his worth.

He begins to cry, the tears spilling over as he speaks through them. “When he went outside, I saw my chance. I shoved him down the stairs, hard, and when he fell, I… I held it to his head. I wanted to so bad, you have no idea.”

Your heart stops as you watch him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a gun. He grips it tightly, his other hand pressing against his forehead in anguish.

“I couldn’t do it. I should have—I should’ve killed him,” he chokes out. You’re frozen in shock but manage to reach out slowly, taking the gun from his hand and setting it firmly on the coffee table. Then you go back to work, focusing on him, the pain written on his face and in his voice.

“JJ, your life would be better without that man,” you say, refusing to even speak the man’s name. “But I know you. You did the right thing. Because no matter how much you hate him, you’d hate yourself even more if you did something like that. You are not a killer.”

You finish cleaning him up, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “You’re broken, sure. But you’re better than him, better than all this. You may not believe it, but I do. You’re kind, you’re selfless, and you’re the strongest person I know.”

He looks up, his eyes glassy. “You really think that?”

“I do.” His hands come up to cover yours as he leans in, and his lips meet yours softly, lingering. It’s not rushed or intense—just a tender, reassuring moment. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, a small, hopeful smile on his face.

“Maybe I can believe in myself a little if you do.”

[gxthicwxrm]

My Bad, Man.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Reader

Summary: being needy for JJ while he plays video games with Pope and John B.

Warnings: implied smut, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, implied/mentions of dom!jj and sub!reader at the end

Word Count: 703 words

This is my first OBX/JJ fic. Let me know if y'all want more for the show or this character, requests are open!!! Send them in, pls. Enjoy!!

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“Dude! Get the fucking zombie. Don’t let it kill you! POPE! That’s it. I’m not reviving you.” You hear JJ, from the living room, scream into his mic on his headset as he jams the buttons on his controller. Rubbing the towel over your legs, you finish drying your body off and grab your underwear from the bed when an idea arises. With a smirk, you drop the material back into your underwear drawer before grabbing JJ’s shirt and draping it over your torso, then walk past his spot on the couch, making your way to the kitchen. The fabric meets near your mid-thigh, barely covering your bottom as you reach for the cup from the top shelf. 

“Guys! I’ve got this generator. Protect the others!” JJ demands, focused solely on the game before him, not noticing you moving about the kitchen. Filling your glass, you walk over to JJ and sit down the glass of sweet tea on the coaster before him. The sound of the glass finally gathers J’s attention as his gaze turns to you, a sweet smile painted on his face when he notices his shirt.

“You always wear them better than me.” He says, covering his mic before he gestures for you to come to him. Leaning down, you capture his lips when you feel his hands slide past your hips to grip your ass before smacking your skin. Feeling your naked skin leads his hands to wander lower as you let his tongue invades your lips. A growl erupts from the blonde under you as he grabs your thighs and pulls you to straddle him. 

“No panties? My needy girl.” He whispers against your lips as he adjusts himself, so his growing bulge rubs against your core, earning a moan from you before his hand snakes up your chest and then grip your neck, making you grind against him harder, only the thin fabric of his boxers between the two of you. As JJ leans back and starts pulling down his boxers, Pope screams through the mic reminding JJ of the game. Neither of you realized his controller had fallen to the carpet when you straddled him, causing his character in the game to no longer to protect what he was supposed to. 

“JJ Maybank! Protect the damn generator!” Pope's yells are muffled but clear as you smirk at your boyfriend, who gives you a knowing look. With a nod, he removed his boxers before you gave him his controller and let him wrap his arms around your waist as he lowered you onto his cock. Biting your lip, you close your eyes as you try to focus on the feeling of him stretching you, then lay your head on JJ’s shoulder, peppering kisses along his jawline.

“Damn, you’re so perfect. You take me so well, baby.” JJ groans as you shift to wrap your legs around his waist, driving him deeper and making you bury your face in his neck. JJ allows you time to adjust before pulling the mic back to his face.

“Shit, I’m sorry, guys. I spilled my drink and had to get a towel. My bad, man.” JJ attempts to convince them.

“Yeah. Sure. I bet you were making out with Y/N.” You could practically hear John B’s smirk through the microphone. JJ laughs, causing his hips to move, making an unexpeave your lips.

“Oh, my god! Are they fucking right now? What the fuck?” Pope' had to move the left side of his headphone, making you able to hear them better as well. 

“What? No! Never.” JJ’s holding you to him as he giggles uncontrollably.

“I’m done. You all are gross.” John B and Pope say in unison, making you and JJ laugh harder.  Once both of your friends leave the game, JJ turns off the console before tossing the controller to the other side of the couch. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” JJ’s full attention is now on you, making you bashful as you feel yourself start to submit to him as his lustful eyes look over your body before stopping on your lips, his tongue wetting his own. 

“Yes, sir.”

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

can you maybe write something about jj always wanting to eat his girl out if that's okay:D

oh so close

pairing(s): bf!jj maybank x gf!fem!reader

warnings: implied oral, pet names, talks of sex

summary: jj begs to return the favor to his favorite girl.

authors note: thank you for the request, hun! enjoy :))

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“please, please, please?” jj begged with his head laying on your stomach.

you chuckled to yourself. “no,” you replied.

“why?” he whined.

“maybe cause you just did it this morning? i need a break too,” you said, stifling a laugh.

he pouted and groaned. “you’ve had like 7 hours between then. you’ll be fine, baby.”

“i’m still sensitive, jj,” you reminded him.

he glared up at you. “even better,” he stated. “please, pretty girl? you know i’ll make you feel good.”

“i know you will,” you replied. “but you already did this morning.”

“you can go twice in one day, i know you can. you’ve done it before,” he said with a sweet smile.

you hated how soft and pretty he looked like this. you hated how you couldn’t help but say yes when he was looking at you like this, all pouty with glossy eyes.

“fine.”

the smile that took over his lips was huge as he urgently began to move down to lay between your legs. “trust me, sweetheart. i’ll make it so much better than this morning.”

[miley1442111]

Hii omg i love the way you write!!! obsessed with the Rafe x Reader x JJ's fic. I'm eating that UPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And because of that i came to ask for something like that, i didnt saw anything like that done yet... The idea would be like that:

Rafe and reader are best best best friends like BEST FRIENDS but obviously deep down both are in love with each other and they personalities fit perfectly. But then Rafe starts dating Sofia (or just someone else) and reader get some distance from him to respect the privacy of the couple but Rafe always picks reader, Rafe and sofia meet reader on the country club, Rafe talks to reader the whole time, and give all is attention to reader.

Noticing how uncomfortable Sofia gets the reader get even more distant from Rafe and that starts to destroy him until one day, something big happens and Rafe picks reader instead of Sofia, like his instinct is to pick Reader. Then Sofia makes Rafe choose once and for all between her, his girlfriend or his bestfriend and one true love, the reader.

Maybe fluff/angst/comfort??? Pleaseeeeee sorry if this is too long or made you uncomfortable!!

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easy choice- r.cameron

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a/n: HI (louder than everyone else), i literally love you and this request anon!!!!!!! I dropped everything to write this, it literally got me out of a writing funk!!!!!! (YAYAYYAAYYA THANK U POOKIE) this is amazing and I hope you enjoy !!!!! :)))))))))))

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc

summary: i suggest you look at the ask

warnings: kissing, toxic realtionship, rafe is a bit of a dick to haley and reader, rafe is confused, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions (I think that's it?)

y/n is such a girls girl i love it.

not entirely proofread

3.4k words :)

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You had been in love with Rafe Cameron from the moment you knew what love was. You had been 5 years old when the brunette boy wandered into your life in the role of your rich neighbour, but also your new best friend. Their large land meant you and Rafe spent every day of  that summer running around with each other, playing, laughing, being kids. 

When you were 6 years old he’d kissed your cheek and your mom’s had laughed, calling it ‘young love’. And that’s what it was. From that moment, you knew you loved Rafe. You knew he loved you back. For the next 13 years every time someone brought up Rafe and asked what you were to him, it was always ‘best friend’, and when people would ask you how you felt about him, you told them. 

“I love him,” you’d shrug. It was simple. They could take it that you were in love with him, or that you loved him. It was up to them. 

Often, you’d joke that you two were too close to ever date, that you’d ‘seen too much’ of the other, and that it would be weird. But on the night of your 15th birthday when you’d both gotten drunk for the first time, and when he’d kissed you, you’d thought that maybe that idea was stupid. Maybe you hadn’t seen too much. 

----------------------

“This is Haley,” Rafe smiled. Haley, Rafe’s new girlfriend was clinging to him like all the others you’d met had, intimidated by you. You just smiled. “This is Y/n, she’s my best friend.”

You watched as her face faltered, then her hand shot out far too quickly, and almost hit your drink. You just smiled and shook her hand. “I promise I’m not one of those terrible ‘girl best friend in love with your boyfriend’ girls, I’ve seen Rafe shit himself, I can’t ever get that image out of my head.”

Haley smiled, then laughed as Rafe rolled his eyes at you. You shrugged, it was the best way to break the ice with his girlfriends, make fun of him. 

“No way,” she chuckled. “How old was he?”

“5-”

“15,” you answered. “Remember? When we were going skiing with your dad?” 

Rafe gritted his teeth and smiled at you, but you knew he wasn’t mad. Rafe was unable to get mad at you, it was truly impressive. All these years, and you’d never had a real fight. You just laughed at him and he broke out of his fake annoyance. 

“Well, I think this has been a great conversation, thanks Y/n-” Rafe was trying to steer Haley towards the bar behind you, but she stayed put. 

“Rafe, I want to meet her, properly,” she whispered and he rolled his eyes but obliged. 

“Good for you girl,” you chuckled, poking fun at the way he listened and did anything she asked. She laughed again. Maybe you two would be friends? That would be nice. All of Rafe’s old girlfriends had been intimidated by you, and it made you pretty upset. They had nothing to worry about, yes, you loved Rafe, but not like that. Yes, he was your first crush, and first kiss, but you were over that. You were a grown woman, and you knew your own feelings, fuck what everyone else thought. You weren’t in love with Rafe Cameron, you loved your best friend. And that’s all he was, your best friend. “Do you guys want to get lunch?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Haley smiled. 

“I have golf with the boys, you sure you don’t want to join?” He asked, turning to you.

“I’m, fucking awful at golf Rafe, it sucks, so for the last fucking time; no thank you,” you chuckled. 

“Suite yourself,” he shrugged, and grabbed your hand, giving it a tight squeeze before starting to walk off. 

“Rafe?” You called him. 

“Hm?” He turned back. 

You nodded your head in Haley’s direction. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” You mouthed. 

Rafe nodded, catching on and walked back over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Haley smiled and waved him off. 

“He’s such a dick sometimes, sorry,” you chuckled with her. 

“He’s fine,” she smiled. “Seriously, I’d rather be here anyways, you’re right about golf, that shit sucks.”

You chuckled. “Amen to that.”

You talked with Haley for an hour before you had to get back to work. 

“Well, I better head back to work,” you smiled, getting up. “It was awesome to meet you.”

“Yeah you too,” she smiled, getting up at the same time. “To be honest I was pretty worried to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Rafe talks about you all the time, you’re like the only thing he talks about,” she chuckled and you felt awful. Rafe shouldn’t be talking about you to his girlfriend. You were his friend, and you’d never ever want someone, let alone his girlfriend to be worried about your role in his life. You two were strictly best friends.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that can’t be nice,” you sympathised. 

She shook her head. “No seriously, I didn't mean it in a bad way! It’s just-”

“No! Of course not,” you assured her. “I just mean that I wouldn’t totally like it if my boyfriend was constantly talking about someone else,” you explained. “I had one of those ‘girl best friend boyfriends’ and trust me, I swear to not be like that.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Now, I’d love your number so you can tell me if Rafe ever does some stupid shit, he usually listens to me and I can knock some sense into him. He has no right to piss you off, ever,” you chuckled. “Don’t take any of his shit, ever, ok? Promise me?”

“I promise,” she chuckled. “Thanks for being so… cool. I didn’t exactly expect it.” 

“No problem,” you smiled. “Thanks for being so cool too.”

You two left each other, and you two were friends. That felt good, and it also felt too good to mess up. So you decided it would be best to lay off Rafe for a while, still go out, but not alone (not that there was anything wrong with it, but just to give Haley peace of mind), and not reply immediately when he texted. 

----------------------

Rafe: Are You free today? 

Today, 11:00 am

You: Sorry, going out with Kelce and Top. Go out with Haley. 

Today 1:00 pm

Rafe: ???

Rafe: Didn’t think to invite me? 

Today, 1:01pm

You: Haley told me you two have plans today Rafe.  DON’T FUCK THIS UP! SHE’S REALLY COOL!!!

Today 1:02 pm

Rafe: Y/n come on. I’m only hanging out with her. She clings to me like a fucking koala

Today 1:04 pm

You: Set boundaries then. She’s your girlfriend. (plus me + you hang out more often than you and her????)

Today 1:04 pm

Rafe: That's different.

Today 1:05 pm

You: ????? 

You: No it’s not. Now have a fun date Rafe! Top, Kelc and I are drunk on a boat rn :)))))

Read 1:08pm

----------------------

Three months later…

Rafe: Dinner + horror movie tonight? Tanneyhill?

Read 2:14pm

“Who’re you texting?” Haley asked Rafe as she watched him get increasingly pissed off while looking at his phone. 

“No one,” he coughed, putting his phone down. Why were you ignoring him? It had been three months of dodged hangouts and missed calls and texts. He was getting the majority of his information about you out of Haley, and it was pissing him off. You were his best friend, not hers. Yet you seemed to have all the time in the world for her, and none for him. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Haley started. “Y/n and I were shopping the other day and-”

Rafe’s ears piqued up. Haley and you were hanging out, but you and him weren’t? Again, unfair, he was your best friend. “What?”

“Me and Y/N? We went shopping the other day and she finally found her Midsummer’s dress,” Haley explained. “We decided we’d match!” Haley turned and showed him a picture of you two in the matching pale pink dresses. 

Rafe was almost knocked on his ass by how good you looked. Your messy hair from the rain that had hit that day and your real smile, the one he knew, the one he usually brought out of you, and the long pink dress accentuating every perfect feature of your body. He found himself smiling. 

“What do you think?” Haley smiled. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, handing her phone back. “You’re stunning.”

Haley’s smile widened and Rafe felt accomplished. Yes, Haley looked good, but beside you? He didn’t even see her. 

“We should go to the mainland and get you a matching pink suit,” Haley beamed. She put her phone down, turning to Rafe. “I’m so glad we're together.”

Rafe flashed her his signature smirk and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Kook princess and Kook king. This is what he’d wanted. Why didn’t it feel good then?

----------------------

Later that night, you called him. 

“Hi,” He sighed into the phone. 

“Did Haley tell you the happy news?” You chuckled. 

“That you two are matching for Midsummers? Yeah I know, the dress is pretty-”

“No Rafe, that I won’t be third wheeling you two at Midsummers,” you chuckled. 

Rafe stopped in his tracks. He stopped mid-biting into his apple and he almost dropped his phone. “What?”

“I got asked to Midsummers!” You cheered. 

“Who?” Rafe’s voice was just above a whisper. What was that feeling? The bile in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down. The red-tint in his vision. The way his entire body tensed. 

“Conrad Burren and I are going together,” you smiled. 

Rafe’s heart started beating again and he sighed, a smile landing on his lips. You were friends with the pogues, Conrad was your friend. “Oh,” he took a breath. “You’re going as friends, I thought you meant you got a date.”

You were quiet for a moment. That shit stung. “I did get a date. It’s a date Rafe,” you were more than offended. Rafe acting like you couldn’t get a date, fuck him. You and Conrad  were going together, and that’s what you wanted. Would you rather it be your usual tradition with Rafe where you’d run off to the empty lighthouse, get drunk and watch Jaws? Yes. But Haley had somehow convinced him to go to Midsummers, and you weren’t going to mess that up for her. “Conrad and I are going on a date.”

Rafe’s heart stopped again. Fuck. “Oh.”

You were getting angry with his silence. “Thanks Rafe, you piece of shit,” you spat and hung up the phone. 

----------------------

He had no reason to be this upset. Was he even upset? Was this him being upset? He had no idea how he was feeling, so an impromptu ‘boys only’ meeting was called. 

“Why are we here at midnight Rafe?” Topper yawned as he sat beside Wheezie (Yes, Wheezie and Sarah were part of your little group, and they were honorary boys at this meeting). “And where’s Y/n?”

Sarah laughed. “This is about Y/n,” she explained. “They had a fight.”

“Sarah!” He groaned, pacing the room. 

“Over who she’s going to Midsummers with,” Wheezie finished for her. “She’s going with Conrad.”

“Burren?” Kelce asked and Wheezie nodded. “He’s an alright guy, better than Jj Maybank anyways.”

Topper chuckled and agreed. “Yeah, what’s the issue with Conrad? He's a pogue and she’s basically a pogue anyways."

"Exactly! The only thing that really makes Y/n a kook is being friends with us and her parent’s money so… what’s the big problem that dragged me out of bed at fucking 11:43pm?” Kelce yawned.

“The problem is that she shouldn't be going with him!” Rafe snarled. 

“Who should she go with?” Sarah sighed. 

“No one!” Rafe exclaimed and everyone burst out laughing. “Me? No, no one!”

“Rafe, you have Haley and Y/n’s going to have to date one day! She’s already had a boyfriend or two,” Wheezie shrugged. 

Rafe turned his head to her. “What?”

“Yeah! They just weren’t super serious so she probably didn’t tell you,” Wheezie explained. 

“She probably didn’t tell you because she knew you’d flip your shit,” Sarah chuckled. “Like you’re doing right now.”

“Fuck off!” He hissed. “I’m not in love with her!”

The room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of Rafe. 

“No one said you were,” Sarah smirked. “But you just did.”

And everything clicked into place for Rafe. He was in love with you. And of course he was. You, beautiful, intelligent, funny, kind, amazing, you. Who wouldn’t be in love with you? How hadn’t he realised it sooner? Why hadn’t he acted on it sooner?

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. No! No, I-I can’t be in-in love with Y/n!”

Sarah laughed. “Rafe it’s alright!’

“No! No it’s not! Be-because she said we-we'd never date! ‘It wouldn’t ma-make sense’ she said. She said we wouldn’t make sense!” He panicked. He was in love with you, and there was no way you’d ever give him a chance. And then there way fucking Haley. Kook princess, irritating, clingy, Haley. “And what do I do about Haley?”

“I mean,” Kelce took a deep breath. “You might need to just break it off.”

“No he can’t do that,” Topper shook his head. “Haley and Y/n are like best friends-”

“Y/n is my best friend!” Sarah shouted. “Y/n is my best friend!” Rafe shouted. “Y/n is my best friend!” Wheezie shouted. All at the same time.

The Cameron siblings started into a very loud shouting match, trying to convince the others that you were in fact their best friend, not the others. Topper and Kelce let it run its course for about 10 minutes, but with no end in sight, Topper shouted. “Ok! You need to talk to Haley about this, then go to Y/n, but wait until after Midsummers!” 

Rafe stared at him for a minute, then shrugged. “Yeah. Good plan,” he wiped some of the sweat from his forehead and stood still for the first time in hours. “You two can go,” he mumbled to his friends, who just laughed.

“See you tomorrow man,” Kelce chuckled as they left. 

Rafe just had to wait until after Midsummers, which was four days away. He could make that, right?

----------------------

Rafe could not make it for 4 days. 4 days of knowing that you were mad at him, that you were going on a date with someone else to Midsummers, that he would have to see you there with him. 

4 days of agony, essentially. 

----------------------

“What’s wrong with you?” Haley finally asked, sick of his shitty mood that had just been growing throughout the week. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, letting go of her hand as they walked. 

“No,” She stopped. “Come on, talk to me Rafey.”

Rafey. He fucking hated it when she called him that. It felt juvenile, so stupid, so whiny. 

“Stop calling me that shit,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s fucking annoying.”

She took a step away from him. “Rafe Cameron, we are going to Midsummers in 3 fucking hours, do I need to call Y/n to get her to set you straight?” 

A part of him didn’t like the fact that she had your number, another part of him wanted your attention on him, and that phone call would do just that. “I don’t fucking care Haley.”

Haley huffed, then walked off, lifting her phone to her ear. 

----------------------

“Hey Haley,” you sniffled. Conrad had cancelled on you at the last minute, saying he was ‘too busy to go to some kook-bullshit’. 

“Hey Y/n, can you tell Rafe to go fuck himself for me?” She seethed. 

“Haley, this really isn’t the time,” you sighed. “I’m sorry I just-”

“You told me you’d be here for me?” Haley scoffed. 

“Yeah, a-and I am I just-”

“So be here for me. I’m handing the phone to Rafe, talk to him.” 

“Hi,” it was Rafe’s voice, and you just wanted to cry harder. 

“Hi,” you choked out. “What’s going on?”

Rafe heard how your voice broke and his senses went into overdrive. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you tried to steady your breathing. “Tell me what you said to Haley.”

“I didn’t say shit that wasn’t true. Now, where are you Y/n? What’s wrong?” Rafe was already grabbing his car keys from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry about our fight, I guess you were right. It wasn’t a date,” you sniffled. 

“What did that asshole do?” He growled. “Fucking piece of shit- listen I’ll be at yours in a few minutes, stay put.” 

“Rafe, go to Midsummers with Haley, please don’t worry about me,” you pleaded. You didn’t want his relationship to be ruined over you, and you didn’t want Haley to hate you forever because of a choice Rafe made. 

“Fuck Midsummers, and fuck Haley. You’re what’s important,” he assured you. “I’ll be there soon, ok?”

“Rafe please-” 

He hung up. 

“She knocked some sense into you?” Haley turned to him. 

“I’m not going to Midsummers,” Rafe muttered, brushing past her. He would burn every bridge he had to if it meant he got to you. 

“What?!” She shouted, stopping him by grabbing his arm. “Rafe!” “Fuck off, we’ll talk later,” he tried to brush her off, but she remembered what you’d said.

“Never take any of his shit, ok, promise me?”

“No. We’ll talk now. Me or her?"

“Her.” 

Rafe answered without a second thought. You were his destination, his journey, and his starting point. You inhabited his thoughts, lived in his head rent free, and you controlled him. You guided him, you knew him, and you loved him. As a friend at least. He just hoped it was more. 

Haley sighed, eyes clouding with tears. “Go.” 

“I was going to do that no matter what,” Rafe admitted, then brushed her off of him, running to his car. He got to your house in a record time of 5 minutes, and he ran to your bedroom. There you stood, mascara running, in your gorgeous pale pink dress with the prettiest flowers in your hair, and a sinking feeling his head gut told him that he was right. 

He was irrevocably, irreversibly, completely, head over heels in love with you. He reached out and took you into his arms, letting you cry onto his white shirt.

“He’s a piece of shit,” he whispered, holding you as you two sat down on your bed. “He didn’t deserve you,” he pressed his face into your hair. He draped your legs over his, holding you against him in a bridal hold as you cried into his neck, one arm supporting your back and one holding you closer to him. “You deserve so much better,” he purred. “You’re so beautiful, so, so beautiful,” he whispered. “So gorgeous.”

“Rafe, you should be with Haley,” you wiped your eyes. 

“We broke up,” he admitted. This was the moment, his moment. The moment where everything would change. It just depended on whether it was good or bad. “We broke up because I’m in love with you.”

You took your head out from his neck and stared at him, then you started laughing. “You’re in love with me?” You asked through laughter. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. 

And then it all clicked for you. You were in love with Rafe Cameron. Soft, uncontrollable, hilarious, handsome, Rafe Cameron. 

“Shit,” you sighed out, a shocked look on your face. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Rafe’s smile brightened. “Yeah?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile on your lips. 

Rafe’s attention landed on your lips, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He grabbed your face, pulling it up to his own, and kissing you. It was like he was 15 all over again, but so much better. 

You pulled back after a moment. “You’re totally broken up with Haley, right?”

He nodded, his eyes staying on your lips, already addicted to the way you tasted. “Yeah,” he mumbled, only half listening. 

“Good,” you smirked. “Because we have to get to Midsummers.”

Rafe’s interest was piqued. “Why?”

“Traditions are tradition Cameron,” you smirked, fixing up your makeup. “We have to get drunk and watch Jaws in the lighthouse. Or did you forget?” 

Rafe could feel himself getting hard but he just smirked. “I didn’t forget.”

“Good,” you smirked, pressing your lips to his once again. “So let’s go.”

He nodded, following you like an overactive puppy. 

God, he was whipped.  And he didn’t even care. He had you.

----------------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[maybankswhore]

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄.” “𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃.”

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader.

SUMMARY: you’re always there when he needs you.

jj hadn’t talked to you in weeks. he knew it was wrong. to just , disappear the way he did. but he couldn’t keep doing it. the whole ‘relationship’ thing. it wasn’t that he didn’t love you , because , fuck , did he love you. but he loved you too much.

he loved you in the way he searched for your face in everyone he came across. always scanning for the familiarity of you in crowds. he loved you in the way that his heart would race when you held his hand , dragging him along the shore of the beach rambling about your special interests. holding on to every word , storing it in a part of his brain that he specifically reserved for you and everything you loved or didn’t.

he loved you so much to the point that it fucking petrified him.

and so jj did was jj was the best at— ignoring the problem and hope it goes away.

he thought he could just ignore you , forget you. erase the mere memory of ever coming across you.

he didn’t want to. he knew he didn’t. and if he thought about it too long he’d cry and cry like a little boy , clutching onto himself to help self sooth the pain he had inflicted onto himself.

it was better this way. he told himself over and over. that’s what he told john b when he was confronted about your absence. that’s what he told pope who could tell he missed you dearly. he repeated it to kiara who’d scold him about ghosting you.

this way he was in control of when it ended. you didn’t have the chance to leave him , to hurt him.

to abandon him.

and maybe that’s why he was so angry.

so angry to the point that all of that sadness and hurt mixed together and blinded him from the matter at hand.

so angry he’d get into a fight at the country club and earn himself a cell to sit and think about what he did.

jj was leaning against the wall , eyes closed as he hummed some tune to distract him from what was happening all around him.

“maybank!”

his eyes shot up at the officer who looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl and eyes roll. eyebrows up , he cocked his head to the side. “yes?”

the officer unlocked the cell door and moved back , glaring at the young troublemaker. “you’re free to go. ride’s here.”

jj jumped up triumphantly , saluting him in the process. he had expected john b or pope waiting for him outside , anyone really. anyone but you.

as he walked outside and saw you leaning against your car with your eyes wide with worry , he froze in his spot. immediately his heart thumped in his chest. looking around , there was nobody else around.

“y/n?” he said lowly , cheeks flushing in embarrassment. one because he hadn’t spoken to you in weeks and two because the first time he’d speak to you after those weeks were from him being thrown in jail for fighting.

your head perked up at your name , relief flashing over you. you practically ran towards him , throwing arms around his shoulders instinctively. “jj! i was so worried about you. i-i heard about what happened and they called me because i was on your emergency list and everyone else was busy when i called so—”

“you came?” jj’s hands were frozen at his side , his chest hammering into his head. “but-”

“you called.” you pulled away and gave him a small smile. “and i’ll always answer when it’s you.”

the weight of your words hit him harder than he had ever felt before. he had always been so used of being alone , or falling into john b and pope’s arms because the pogue’s were all he had— but maybe he did have you. maybe. . . maybe you wouldn’t leave.

jj held back the tears he felt begging to flow , and his arms felt like jelly as he wrapped them around your waist and held him to you tightly. your hair still smelled the same , you still scrunched the fabric of his shirt in your hands when you hugged him.

“i’m sorry , y/n.” jj mumbled into your hair , sniffling just a bit— holding onto his composure. “i didn’t want you to leave me.” he choked back a sob as he confessed all what he had been feeling , all what he was too scared to say then. “and i know that it was selfish and i know i don’t deserve for you to be here right now but i’m so fucking scared and i hate being scared.”

you sighed. you couldn’t say you weren’t mad or upset that jj hadn’t talked to you sooner , that he just stopped answering your calls and messages.

but jj was different. and he was special. and you knew he had never been loved the right way. and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect himself.

you rubbed your hand down his back soothingly , fisting the fabric of shirt. “it’s okay.” you assured him. “i’m not mad at you anymore.”

jj pulled away and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand quickly. “you should be. you should hate me.”

“i could never hate you.” you shook your head , cupping his cheek gently to avoid touching the bruised parts. “i missed you.”

jj held onto your hand that held his cheek , kissing the palm of it softly. “i missed you. . .”

you looked into his eyes and saw how he looked at you. and he didn’t need to say it.

you could be patient.

“let’s get you home , j.”