the one where JJ doesn’t know a lot about love, but he knows you
warnings: just some sweet fluff, slight reference to domestic violence
pairings: jj maybank x reader
a/n: i was watching tatb 2 last night and the credits song inspired me, here’s some fluff - ps, i’m still working my way through my celebration asks don’t worry i haven’t forgotten them!!
JJ never really had a good example of love to learn from. His parents had split when he was really young, his mother choosing to cut off all communication with not only her estranged ex-husband but also her only son. Their relationship had been volatile and violent, often ending in words and fists thrown in anger. He could sometimes remember the fair haired woman comforting him after a bad fall or singing him to sleep, but the hurt and anger that lingered from her abandonment often drowned any good feelings out. His father, of course, barely deserved the title. Sure, he hadn’t left JJ alone, but sometimes JJ thought that might have been better, as fists are never the appropriate medium for showing love.
He knows he loves the pogues. John B is the brother he never had, Kie has a special place in his heart as the only girl who he’s ever let stick around for an extended period of time and Pope is his best friend and most ardent supporter. But that kind of platonic, familial love he has for his friends has just always existed to JJ.
You, you were different. A friend Kie had made at the Kook Academy, the only friend really. In typical pogue fashion, he hadn’t liked you at first, but you had quickly shown yourself to be sweet, highly empathetic and utterly uncaring about the typical interests of your rich counterparts. When JJ thinks of you, he doesn’t think of the love he has for the pogues.
JJ doesn’t know a lot about love, but he knows you.
He knows that he thinks about you all the time, your laughter, the way your eyes light up when you smile. He would do almost anything if it meant you turned your attention and lit up grin on him. Sometimes he feels you in the blood that rushes to his ears and pounds in his heart when he looks at you and you catch him staring, simply looking at him through your eyelashes and smiling back at him adoringly.
You had kissed him first, hands finding purchase in his shirt as you pulled his lips to yours. He had stood there shocked long enough for you to think it was a bad idea, beginning to pull away and learn to deal with rejection when he snapped out of it and pulled you close, deepening the kiss. You had been the one to ask him out officially and you had been the one to define the relationship.
The relationship hadn’t been easy, his traumatic past had made him insecure and left him with self-loathing that sometimes manifested as words spoken to you that he would regret the second they left his lips. You couldn’t relate to his struggles, but you always tried to listen and you always reassured him that he was more than the legacy set out for him by his father.
You had told him you loved him first, swept up in the emotion of 2 am, laying beside each other absolutely spent. He hadn’t freaked out as you worried he would, but he couldn’t say the words back yet.
JJ knows being the one you loved feels so good, and he knows that being away from you is sometimes so physically painful, his chest aches.
You’re lying in John B’s hammock together, your head resting against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart while his arms are wrapped around you. Your eyelids are heavy with exhaustion and you feel yourself slipping into a light sleep when JJ’s low voice causes you to tilt your head to look at him.
“I don’t really know a lot about love,” he admits quietly, eyes avoiding yours, “but I know you, and I love you.” Smiling widely, you shift your body upwards and connect your lips sweetly.
“I love you too, J. So much,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.
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