JJ Maybank Oneshots

Lana's House

Plot- When JJ and John B go to see Lana in her distressed state, JJ takes the hit a little harder than expected.

Author- okay I can't stress this enough because I don't want someone to think I'm stealing their idea. I saw it on tumblr and I tried to find the name of the person but I can't and I really wanna write this. Here's the deal- this is NOT my idea. But I like it. Dialogue is no where near word for word.

"At this point I'm just like, waiting for death." JJ says, staring at the floor. "A-And like, the paint was coming off the wall behind us. Like literally-"

He stood, walking over to Kiara to show her. She sighed as he runs his fingers through his hair, giving a slightly disgusted look. "That's... dandruff."

"Maybe some of it but there was deadass paint coming off that wall." John B said, defending JJ. "We went inside when they left and Lana was just chilling there... on the floor."

The blonde boy stood back up and leaned against the wall. He kept his head low, blunt visible between his lips.

"She looked scared, man." John B concluded.

JJ took a long hit, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could. Kiara watched him for a moment until he opened them again and looked at her.

You good? She mouthed.

He nodded, but his fingers began to twitch against the blunt.

"Jesus!" Pope exclaimed. "They hurt Lana? Like actually?? Bro, no one is safe that shit is messed up."

Kiara watched as JJ's breathing hitched. He then exhales in a shuttering breath, taking another hit and staring off into space. For a moment, he was calm.

The weed was doing its job. At least until he closes his eyes again, and the images resurface.

M-Maybe we should come back later

Don't listen

John B, seriously!

He immediately regrets his mistake, eyes shooting open as he stumbles forward. Then he was gone, going inside the house and leaving everyone behind. They watched for a moment and then shared confused looks.

"Yo, J, don't smoke in the house!" John B called to him.

There was no reply. Inside, JJ had gone to find a beer. He searched the fridge, eyes wide and hands sweaty. When he came up empty, a small whimper emitted from his lips.

He found his blunt again, inhaling deeper in order to forget the pain. He barely acknowledges the copper taste in his mouth when he bites down and reopens the split on his lip.

That's when Kiara found him.

"J?"

He flinched. He then tired to laugh off the motion, puffing smoke in the opposite direction. His hands were still shaking as he did so. Even his hair showed off his discomfort, sticking to his face in various places in clumps of sweat.

"Are you-"

"Yes." He immediately interrupted her, licking his lip to hide the blood. "I'm good. We just don't have any beer and it's annoying." He's laughing again, and if Kiara didn't know how scared he was, she would've tried to play along.

"JJ." She repeats, and he finally looks at her. Unfortunately, seeing her eyes triggers something, and he's turning away as fast as he can.

"Shut up." He says, anger seeping through his terrified ways. "Shut the hell up."

This time, she follows close behind him, putting a hand on his back. It's warm and tense, and she feels as though the irregular heaving is something to be concerned about.