cw: bj!jj x gf!reader, mentions of mental health issues, mild language, mostly fluff!
summary: jj cheers you up on a sunday morning when you feel down.
a/n: i feel like shit so i’m just writing. based on the song by ethel cain.
“Everything hurts except for you.
Life felt duller lately. Pointless. You had enough problems. People said you were depressed the past two months when you didn’t bother to show up anywhere, you thought they were just being dramatic.
You sometimes just wished that you were the ocean. Free as fuck. Wave after wave hitting the sand. You wanted to be the current, instead it was pulling you under.
You thought self-isolation was fine. Why bother anyone else with your shit?
Working was exhausting, but you didn’t really work? You felt like you’d fail at everything, so you didn’t bother to try.
Going to church? People claimed it would help, which wasn’t what you wanted to hear, so you made up a lie and didn’t go.
You stared at the ceiling, picturing the meal that you most likely wanted to skip when there was a tap at the window. “Knock, knock, chicken.. clock?” A voice says. You knew all too well. JJ’s.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at what he said. “What?” You got up and opened the curtain to see the blonde with his forehead pressed up against the glass like the weirdo that he was.
“I was tryna think of a rhyme.” He said simply. You rolled your eyes before opening the window for him. “The door works, y'know?” You mumbled before plopping back onto your bed.
JJ scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, right. I totally knew that. But climbing through the window’s funner.”
JJ noticed your mood straight away. You’re usually always smiling, and cheerful. You looked like the life just got sucked out of you like an octopus.
“So.. what’s up?” He asks softly. So soft that it took you by surprise.
You ended up telling him everything. You hated to vent, but by the looks of it, he didn’t mind. When you needed to yell, he’d listen, when you needed to hit something, he offered to be a punching bag (you refused to do it so he held a pillow and let you punch that), and when you cried? He held you through your tears. Even when it felt like you couldn’t breathe, even when your eyes were blurry from your tears.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you. Always.”
motivation so bad i couldn’t even finish it and cut it short.
creds to @omi-resources and @chateaubarnes for the dividers.
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