Summary: After a very disastrous break-up between you and JJ Maybank, you are struggling to find a common ground while juggling your 4-year-old son, Logan. You guys have the same friends, you attend the same events, so the two of you can definitely co-parent... right? Well, maybe if JJ wasn't so aggravated by you and your son's closeness to a certain "favorite uncle"... Or maybe it's the fact that JJ will never quite let you go... Can you two work out your differences? Now, THAT is still up for debate...
Relationship: SlightlyToxic!BabyDaddy!JJ Maybank x Reader
AN: It seems you guys DID notice that this was announced in my to-be-written post, but it didn't make it into my May Teasers... WELL, that would be because when I redid my masterlists, I realized I lack quite a few JJ series, SO this one will be coming out a little early 😭😂 ENJOY!!!!
JJ Masterlist
Instagram Profiles
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
The End
Taglist is OPEN! Just leave a comment, send an ask, or send me a message to be added!
TW: ED, angst, self hate, arguments, anxiety, idk prolly more. see masterlist for explanation and my profile for resources.
you hear his bike before you see it, the sound interrupting your anxious, circling thoughts about how mad he must be. you’ve been waiting in the hammock outside the chateau, listening for the moment he arrives. the rumble of the engine grows closer, and you stand up, watching as he pulls in and gets off the bike. his blonde hair spills out from under his backwards baseball cap, which he adjusts as he starts walking toward you. you note the lack of a helmet but decide against saying anything.
“hey,” you say uncertainly, arms wrapped around yourself. you bite your lip anxiously, expecting him to be angry, but when you meet his eyes, you see nothing but resignation—which is somehow worse.
“hey,” he echoes, stopping a few feet in front of you. you shift awkwardly and try to meet his eyes but can’t hold his gaze.
“do you wanna, um, sit?” you ask eventually, gesturing toward the hammock. he nods and follows as you walk around to the other side so you can sit facing the water. he sits next to you, taking his hat off and spinning it in his hands.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper.
“yeah?” his voice is sharp and hard. he really is hurt. “what part are you sorry for? the lying? the disappearing? or the going to fucking rafe cameron?”
“jay—”
“no, i’m not fucking around. that was—i just—i don’t know, yn. i can’t believe you did that.”
you bite your lip, unable to think of anything to say to make things right.
“were you really that mad at me for being worried? that you would rather sleep over at your ex-boyfriend’s house than come back home?” he continues. it’s not anger in his voice—it’s pain and betrayal, and hearing it makes your heart shatter.
“jj,” you say softly. he looks up at you, and his expression brings tears to your eyes.
“i’m so sorry, jay. what i did was stupid and careless and mean. and i never wanted to make you feel this way—” you start, but he shakes his head.
“i—no, yn, i don’t need an apology. i know you weren’t doing it out of spite because that’s not who you are. i need you to start telling the truth. because there is something so fucked up going on in your mind—” his voice wavers, “so fucked up that you’re not acting like yourself. and that’s fucking scary.”
your heart sinks to your stomach, and tears flow freely down your cheeks. his hard stare softens.
“just be honest, yn. be honest, baby. then i can help you, and it will all be okay, i promise.”
he takes your hand in his. the gesture is familiar. you know every callous, crease, and vein. you know how when he’s anxious, his hand trembles ever so slightly, and when he’s mad, his grip is tight. when he’s happy, he’ll swing your hands as you walk, and when he’s sad, he’ll snake his whole arm around yours before grabbing your hand, just to feel closer.
now his hold is light, as if he’s scared to touch you, as if he barely knows you.
“i can’t,” you whisper, your mind racing. you can’t. you can’t tell him. if you tell him, then he’ll see you the way you see yourself, and then you’ll lose him forever.
his eyes will open to the fat that cakes your stomach and thighs and arms, to the softness of your jaw, to your stubby fingers, to the stupid way your eyes tend to squint and the grating way you laugh, to how crooked your teeth are and how awkwardly you move, to the shrillness of your voice and unevenness of your skin, to the darkness around your eyes and the way your lips are always chapped.
your appearance will drive him away, and from afar, he’ll see the ugliness of your soul. he’ll see the envy that paints every interaction you have with another girl. he’ll see the fattening gluttony of you stuffing your face with food, and he’ll see the humiliating desperation in the way you shove your fingers down your throat.
“yes, you can, yn,” he says, his voice laced with frustration. “get out of your head for two minutes and talk to me.”
his words draw a sob from you.
“jay,” you say desperately. “i can’t.”
your face must look so ugly right now—blotchy and crumpled with tears. you wish you could hide it from jj, hide it from the world.
he lifts your hand and begins to gently press kisses to each knuckle, which just makes you cry harder.
“baby, come on,” he says. “you don’t have to keep it from me, yn.”
jj is staring at you, frustration and hurt flickering across his face as you stay silent. his grip on your hand is loose now, like he’s afraid to hold on too tightly.
“you don’t have to do this alone,” he says, his voice softer but still laced with urgency. “i can’t help if you won’t let me.”
your throat tightens. your heart hammers against your ribs. your mind screams at you to say something, to just tell him—but you can’t.
“i can’t.” the words come out broken, barely audible.
jj exhales sharply, shaking his head. he lets go of your hand, running a hand through his hair. then he lets out a bitter chuckle, hollow and humorless.
“you know i love you, right?”
you nod, but it doesn’t feel like enough. finally, you look at him, and your chest tightens at the way his jaw clenches, at how tired he suddenly looks.
“then why don’t you trust me?” his voice cracks on the last word, and the sound of it feels like a knife to the ribs.
the question stuns you. you open your mouth, then close it. you want to tell him. you want to reach for him.
and for a second, you almost do.
then, your phone buzzes. loud. sharp.
the name on the screen makes your stomach drop.
rafe.
jj sees it immediately. his jaw tightens. his shoulders go rigid.
you stare at the screen, pulse skyrocketing. you don’t answer. you don’t decline it, either.
and jj sees that, too.
he lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “wow.”
“jj, it’s not—”
“nah, i get it now.” he steps back, shaking his head. “you can’t even fucking look at me when i ask you what’s wrong, but you’ll pick up the phone for him?”
your eyes widen. “i wasn’t going to—”
“yeah? then why’d you hesitate?” his voice cracks on the last word, and somehow, that hurts worse than the anger.
you have no answer.
jj stares at you, chest rising and falling like he’s trying to calm himself down. but it’s useless. the pain is already there, settled deep in his features.
“you know what?” his voice is tight, controlled. “i’m done. i can’t do this anymore.”
he turns and starts walking toward his bike.
“jj, wait—please.” you stand up, finally breaking through the paralysis.
he stops, but he doesn’t turn around. his head tilts slightly, like he’s debating whether he even wants to hear you out.
you should say something. you have to say something.
but then your phone buzzes again in your hand, and you freeze.
that’s it. that’s all jj needs to see.
he shakes his head, lets out a breath. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”
and then he’s gone.
you decline the call and sink into the hammock. sobs wrack your body, desperate and broken.
you lost him. in your effort to save him from yourself, you lost him.
- even if you dont know how to surf you'll wake up early in the morning to watch him surf
- it's like a must at this point
- if its not everyday, then its at least 4 times a week...
- late night visits odfknklfzv
- he'd just randomly knock on your bedroom window at 10pm just to steal a kiss from you
- if you were feeling generous you'd let him stay for a while
-...or for the night
*knock* *knock*
"JJ! what are you doing here?"
"just came to make sure my girl is getting her beauty sleep. oh would you look at that! she's awake, now come on!"
*lifts you up and flops on the bed*
- i dont know why, but he gets so so soft when you guys cuddle
"you're so warm mmhm" and he snuggles further into your chest
- he'd mumble incoherent words since he always laying on tops of you
"i mishhed ya so mushhch today"
"your shhweater is very comfy"
"can we stay like this forever? pleashhe"
- he'd get so grumpy once you stop playing with his hair, oh my god
- either its because you wanted to grab something or send a quick text, the pout is there in a millisecond
"y/nnnn" whining his ass off until you comb his hair again
- he loves loves lovessss giving you massages
- whenever you were stressed about school or studying, without any context, he'd get up and sit behind you doing wonders with his hands (not in that way u horny mfs)
"you okay, baby?"
"yeah yeah im fine, math is just pissing me off" you sighed, aggressively flipping through the pages. suddenly, you felt hands on your shoulders and your chair going backwards.
JJ pushed you infront so he could sit down behind you and placed you on top of him, slowly massaging the tight knots on your aching back.
"thank you"
"anytime" and he kissed your shoulder.
- oh yes. JJ LOVES to hear you gossip about the petty girls in school. since he usually skips classes, he's not present when the dramatic confrontations happen
- but he'd get so into it. his eyes would widen, and he'd absentmindedly move forward as if he could hear your words better, and he'd gasp everytime you spill the tea.
*major dramatic adorable gasp* "jessica said WHAT?"
"I KNOW RIGHT? and she even heard a rumor from aaron that he heard from veronica that she heard from haley that she heard from ALLISON that he never really liked chloe AND HE CONTINUED DANCING WITH ALLISON THE ENTIRE NIGHT"
*another major dramatic adorable gasp* "NO WAY" he gulped "THAT SON OF A BITCH"
"I KNOW"
- holding hands
- holding hands
- holding hands
- idk if you could tell
- but JJ loves holding hands ofposdpo
- its the simplest way for him to say he loves you
- especially when he squeeze your hands 3 times every once in a while when you guys get lost in a conversation with someone
- its him telling you that he's here and you're never leaving his mind
- he'd spank you for no reason always giving you a shit eating grin after
- and its so A N N O Y I N G
- omg dont get me stAaAaaArted on hugs and kisses and cuddles and every form of affection ever
- not only did it surprise you, but it surprised JJ himself of how affectionate he is
- not in a lust kind of way but in a loving, comforting kind of way
- holding you by the waist at all times
- slightly gripping you a bit harder when some guy randomly talks- flirts with you (JJ is determined by it but you shrug it off)- to you
- he loves holding you (with both hands) by your waist and resting his head on your shoulder
- especially in the morning, when he forces you to go to the beach with him, just staring at the sunrise.
- it was definitely worth it.
"look at those birds" you pointed at he birds flying away just above the shining horizon, hugging your boyfriend's arms that were wrapped around your shoulders "they look..so free" you sighed, closing your eyes.
"that'll be us one day, babe" he rested his head on the crook of your neck, kissing it occasionally.
- one of his favourite cuddling positions is when he has his arms wrapped loosely around your lower stomach while you hugged him like a koala with a leg draped over his torso
- makes his heart flutter more than he shamefully admits. but hey, its you we're talking abt.
- or when he suddenly flops on top of you (not throwing all his weight on you of course) and lay on top of you, both hands wrapping around you like he's hugging a teddy bear as his legs were in between yours.
- he'd normally do this when he's sad or when he gets in a fight with his dad. there's just something about being wrapped by your arms and inhaling your scent that feels so safe and comforting for him.
"hard day" your voice was soft, your fingers brushed his golden locks
"a little" he sniffled quietly, hugging you tighter
- his little kisses
- omg the one where you're listening to your teachers rant about how much shit you guys have to do now that your 'older' and he'd take your hand under the desk, which gets your attention
- you'd look at him and he'd give you these 'you'll be okay' smiles, then kisses your knuckles repeatedly to assure you.
- it would always warm the pogues hearts, kie and pope would look at eachother with a pout and John B would smile at his best friend.
- now the pogues wont admit it, but they ship you. they're definitely the captains of the ship
- oh my god how can i forget?
- you can't date JJ without his friends annoying the shit out of him!
- well its not like JJ ever dated before
- maybe thats why they annoy him even more
"aww look at JJ getting all soft"
"yeah im sorry, man, but it does not look good on you"
"cUdDle CudDleS cUddLeS"
- they'd mock and mock and mock
- maybe that's why he would make sure no one was home before he goes all soft mode
- he'd get so nervous when meeting your parents
-well to his friend's he'd shrug it off as if it's nothing
- that was until it was the day before meeting them he woke them up and ranted his ass off about how unprepared and terrified as shit
- you sensed it immediately the day of and told him everything will be alright, holding his hands reassuringly
"im wayy too overdressed, babe. this is itchy!!!" JJ whined scratching his neck
"for the last time maybank, ITS A GODDAMN FLANNEL"
- eating out at 2 in the morning>>>>>>>>>
- well you started it but now JJ loves it
- at first he got pissed, wanting his beauty sleep but he obviously agreed to it.
- but now anytime he couldn't sleep or felt hungry. he'd nudge you awake and ask what you wanna order from McDolnalds this time.
- you guys would try a bunch of fast food places that are opened 24hrs
-one time you guys tried sushi...
- i mean it was delicious, but do not recommend eating it at 2 in the fucking MORNING
- now back to the sappy shit
- he'd look at you so differently than when he looks at others
- he even never looked at his loved ones like that
- that's when he knew there was something different about you
- and every time he tried to ignore it
- the voice in his head always wins
- let's go back to the first time he said the L word shall we?
"so yeah, the whales looked so adorable! you should've seen them kie!"
"ugh why didn't you force me to come dipshit!"
"well im sorry for caring about your grades and your space idiot!" y/n shot back, snorting causing kie to laugh with her.
- all JJ did was stare, look at her, admire her, it was addicting.
- he admired how passionate and attached she was with the ocean
- how her eyes sparkled
- how her smile radiated so much comfort energy that it made him subconsciously smile.
-all he heard was
i love you
i love you
i love you
- over and over again in his head.
when kie excused herself to the bathroom y/n looked at him, she was smiling coz why not? i mean she's with her friends and boyfriened, the weather was to die for, and she just witnessed a family of whales swimming. life was perfect, and she was glowing.
"what?" she chuckled nervously
i love you
i love you
i love you
"i love you"
i love you
i lov-
"what?" her smile stretched, eyes widened in disbelief
"what?" JJ looked at her confused, he didn't say anythi- shit.
"i said that out loud didn't i" he closed his eyes and prayed to the god he never believed in to let the ground swallow him whole.
- but you literally jumped on him and kissed him.
- you kissed him
and kissed him
and kissed him
saying i love you between each one.
- THE JJ maybank confessed his love for a girl
"y-you do?" HIS eyes widened this time, smile slightly
*slap on the back of his head* "of course i do, dipshit" you retorted, causing both of you to break out in laughter
- and ever since then, he could't stop saying it!
- dropping you off at class
"bye babe, i love you" he says so casually and effortlessly. like you guys were together for years
- in the middle of class
*nudges your shoulder* ''babe'' he whispered''
''whats?'' you replied, annoyed.
''i love you'' he said kissing your cheek before the teacher notices and goes straight to his notes leaving you a blushing mess.
TW: ED, angst, self hate, arguments, anxiety, idk prolly more. see masterlist for explanation and my profile for resources.
the music thrums through your cheap wired earbuds as you lie on your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. the sound is nothing but static in your ears, a thin veil between you and the crushing weight in your chest. your heartbeat is too loud, too fast, pressing against your ribs, shallow breaths barely making it past your throat.
you’ve turned your phone on and back off at least thirteen times in the last four minutes, but nothing holds your attention. nothing helps.
kie, sarah, and cleo responded to your tweet, but the thought of seeing them feels impossible. you would have to explain. they would ask questions, they would try to help, and they wouldn’t understand. you can’t do it. you can’t.
john b knocked on your door about an hour ago. he asked if you were okay. you lied. he offered to watch a movie, but you said no. you heard the hesitation in his silence, the way he lingered just a little too long, like he didn’t think you should be alone. but your short, clipped answers drove him away.
and now you’re alone again. worse.
it feels like you’re underwater, floating slightly while the world above you stays still. even the music begins to stretch and distort, fading into something distant, something untouchable. it sounds like it’s playing from the end of a long tunnel, hollow and echoing back to you.
at some point, your body stops responding.
at some point, your mind slips.
you lay there, floating in limbo, not sleeping but not thinking, not letting yourself think. your limbs feel like lead, heavy and unmovable. the room is dim, the music stops playing after you don’t know how long.
then the door opens.
john b.
his voice is careful, like he’s afraid to startle you. “hey do you wanna get up? it’s like 1:30.”
1:30?
1:30.
you blink. the time repeats itself in your head, but it doesn’t feel real. 1:30. it was nighttime. you were just lying down. you were just—
“y/n,” john b says again, stepping closer, concern etched into every line of his face. “you need to get up. you’ve been laying here since this time yesterday and you’re scaring me.”
scared? why would he be scared? you’re fine. you got into a little fight with jj, and you just need to lay here for a bit. that’s all.
it’s no cause for concern.
but when you try to speak, nothing comes out.
your tongue won’t move. your body won’t move.
your brain understands, but your limbs won’t follow.
he crouches down next to you. “you gotta breathe yn. i know you’ve got a lot going on right now, but laying here and panicking isn’t gonna help. just breathe in and out, okay?” you hadn’t realized you were hyperventilating.
he takes the earbuds out of your ears and unplugs them from your phone, which he then attaches to a charger, waiting patiently as you try to slow your breathing.
when you’ve calmed down enough, he nods, as if satisfied, and crosses the room, grabbing something off of the floor. it’s jj’s fast arch shirt, the one you borrowed last week. he tosses it at you.
“put this on. it’s a little chilly.”
you look at him quizzically.
“we’re going to the beach,” he responds to your unasked question. “change of scenery.”
your entire body is shaking uncontrollably, but you somehow manage to sit up and pull the shirt over your head. your heart keeps erratically pumping against your chest as you follow him mindlessly down the hall. he’s saying something, but you’re not really listening. the drive is quiet. the kind that doesn’t ask for words, doesn’t demand explanations. the kind where silence is the only thing that makes sense.
the twinkie rattles down the uneven road, the radio playing something soft, something familiar, but the sound barely reaches you. it blends into the hum of the tires against gravel, into the distant crash of waves growing louder as you get closer. you lean your head against the window, the cold glass pressing against your skin. you watch the trees blur past, the sky stretched out in soft gray tones, like it hasn’t decided whether to be morning or something else entirely.
john b hasn’t said much since you left the chateau. he glances at you every now and then, but he doesn’t press. he just drives, fingers drumming absently against the steering wheel. you think about asking if jj is okay, if john b talked to him, if he even cares that you fought or regrets leaving. but the words stay lodged in your throat, thick and immovable. so you don’t ask. instead, you focus on breathing, on keeping your hands from shaking as you pull the sleeves of jj’s shirt over your fingers. when john b finally pulls up near the dunes, he turns off the engine but doesn’t move to get out right away. he exhales, tilts his head back against the seat, and finally looks at you.
“c’mon,” he says, not unkindly. “let’s go.”
you follow him out of the van, your feet hitting the cool sand, the wind biting at your exposed skin. the ocean stretches out ahead of you, dark and endless, waves rolling in steady and unbothered. you should feel something. relief, maybe. peace. but all you feel is tired. john b doesn’t walk far. just enough for the twinkie to be behind you, for the weight of the chateau to feel farther away. he sits down, pulling his knees up and digging his fingers into the sand. you stand there for a second, unsure. the wind tugs at jj’s shirt, the sleeves slipping past your hands.then, finally, you sit too.
the sand is cold beneath your fingers, damp from the night. you don’t speak. neither does he. you just watch the waves, coming and going, over and over. it lulls you, capturing your attention, distracting you from your mind.
“he’s not mad… jj that is,” john b says after a few minutes of silence. “really fuckin hurt but not mad.”
you meet his eyes briefly but don’t respond. you bring your knees to your chest and rest your chin against them, arms wrapped tightly around your shins. continuing to watch as the waves rise and fall again and again, your thoughts drift away and it feels as if your soul itself is being rinsed by the crashing waves. the ocean stretches endlessly ahead. you can hear the waves, the way they roll in and crash against the shore, like they’re just waiting for something or maybe you are.
john b doesn’t say anything for a while after that. he just sits beside you, his fingers buried in the sand, letting the silence settle between you. the sound of the waves is steady, but inside you, it’s anything but.
after a while, he exhales, slow and measured. “you don’t have to do this to yourself. you act like you don’t have a choice, but you do.”
your fingers curl tighter around your shins. “this what?”
john b doesn’t look at you when he answers. “this, y/n. the starving, the throwing up, pretending like it’s not happening, fighting with anyone who wants to help you.” he says, picking up a fistful of sand and letting the grains fall through his fingers.
your breath catches, but you keep your gaze locked on the water, refusing to look at him. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
he scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. “yeah, you do.”
your stomach twists, and you pull jj’s sleeves farther over your hands, as if you can disappear inside them. the waves crash again, pulling the sound away, like they’re trying to take the weight with them. “that’s not what this is.”
it comes out too quickly, too automatic, like a reflex.
john b sighs, running a hand through his hair. “yn.” his voice is softer now, but it still holds that unshakable john b certainty. “i let your other bullshit go because i wanted to be wrong, i wanted it to not be that. but i heard you purging, yn—i know we talked about it, and i know you said that you were sick, but you’re lying. and everyone knows that you’re lying.”
your chest tightens, a sharp pang of humiliation cutting through you. “it’s not like that.”
john b lets out a breath, quiet but knowing. “then what’s it like?”
you swallow hard, staring at the ocean, watching the tide roll in, the way it pulls itself back before crashing forward again. you don’t answer. the silence stretches between you, thick and heavy. and then, before you can stop yourself, the words slip out. “am i losing him?”
john b doesn’t answer right away. he looks out at the ocean, like he’s considering it, like the answer isn’t as simple as you want it to be.
finally, he says, “i think jj’s just trying to figure out how much of you he still has.”
the words hit deep, settling into your chest like something too heavy to hold. jj isn’t just mad. he’s giving up. he doesn’t know if you’re worth fighting for anymore. you swallow hard, your throat tight. you don’t know what to do with the words, how to make them make sense.
“i mean- listen it’s just…. we thought we got you back. we thought you were good. but the fact that you aren’t, like…. i don’t yn that hurts and it’s not because you’re not allowed to be struggling, it’s because you didn’t tell us.” john b says.
your knees pull tighter to your chest, your chin resting on them as you watch the waves crash, again and again. the silence lingers, the ocean filling the space between you. you don’t say anything else. the waves keep rolling in, steady and unbothered, like nothing has changed. but inside you, everything feels wrong—too heavy, too sharp, pressing in from all sides. you don’t know how long you sit there, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs, your nails digging into your skin.
and then, it all hits at once.
your chest tightens, your throat closes up, and before you can stop it, a sob tears through you. you drop your forehead to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut, but the tears come anyway—hot and silent at first, then harder, shaking your whole body. john b doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t try to make it better, doesn’t tell you to stop. he just shifts beside you, then wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in. it’s not forceful. he’s not trying to fix you. he just holds you there, steady, as you fall apart. you press your face into his sleeve, your whole body trembling. the ocean keeps moving. the wind keeps blowing. and john b just stays.
you dont know how long it’s been when john b exhales audibly and out of nowhere says, “you remember the time you got that jellyfish sting?”
you sniff and sit up, caught off guard. “i- what?”
he smirks slightly. “yeah. we were, like, ten? maybe eleven? it was just the three of us out here, you know like just swimming and i don’t really remember how it went down but you got stung.”
the memory flickers back as you plant your hands in the sand, the crash of the waves, burning sensation of your leg amplified by the sting of the saltwater, the panicked sound of jj’s voice.
“but at any rate, JJ? he was already planning your funeral,” john b continues, shaking his head. “like, full-on sobbing, saying how he was gonna have to tell Dad you died on his watch. meanwhile, your leg was red but you barely even cried, totally fine.”
you let out a breath—almost a laugh and wipe at some of your tears.. “he made me sit on the beach for an hour after that. wouldn’t let me back in the water.”
john b grins. “dude, he made all of us get out. said if you weren’t allowed to swim, no one was.”
”he’s always been like that, you know,” john b says after a beat. “pretends he’s not scared of anything, but when it comes to you? he’s been losing his shit over you since we were kids.”
you swallow hard, the warmth of the memory clashing with the weight in your chest.
“yeah well we aren’t ten anymore and losing it doesn’t always help.” you say, trying to keep the bitter edge out of your voice.
“then tell him what will help.” john b’s response is level but pointed “but lying? and pretending things are good when they’re really just getting worse? that’s just gonna push him away. he’s loyal to a fault y/n, you know that. but if you keep making him feel unwanted, he’s gonna stop trying.”
your heart sinks to your stomach and you fight back another wave of tears.
“john b i’m not the kind of person who wants to talk everything to death, you know?” you say hollowly. “i can’t…. i don’t want to dissect all the worst parts of me with him. i’m fine, and all i need is for you guys to believe me.”
he sighs and doesn’t respond for a long moment. “listen-” he starts carefully but you cut him off.
“no john b come on this is the problem. i get that i was sick before and i know that was hard on everyone but why does that mean your can never trust me again? like you realize that’s bullshit right?” your voice is rising, sounding more angry when really it’s anxiety growing in your chest.
“no the bullshit is you acting like we’ve personally ruined your life by caring about you” his voice rises ever so slightly for the first time and your stomach twists. “jj’s been begging for scraps of you for weeks and you have given absolutely zero effort to let him in. but he’s still showing up. isn’t that enough? doesn’t that make him worth a least a little bit of honesty? i get that it’s hard for you to talk about but you can’t even admit that there’s something going on with you! so you tell me who’s really not trusting who here?” his words cut to your core and more tears begin to spill down your cheeks. his face softens and he tilts his head at you. “i just don’t understand what you’re doing y/n. and i can’t just sit by and watch while you drown my sister and my best friend. you can’t just keep ignoring everyone’s help, because i don’t know how long they’ll put up with it.”
the tears are pouring now and you don’t know what to say. you can feel him watching you carefully but you can’t look at him, eyes locked on the waves instead. he exhales again, quieter this time, like something’s drained out of him.
“look,” he says, voice low, “i can’t sit here and fight you into saving yourself.”
your chest tightens again.
“but i’m telling you this as someone who loves you, okay? you need to talk to jj.”
you don’t answer.
john b turns to face you fully now. “not tomorrow. not when you feel like it. today. before he gives up for good.”
your breath hitches but you still don’t reply. he nods as if you agreed.
“so i’m gonna go wait in the twinkie. you take as much times as you need and when you’re ready we’ll go back home and you can text JJ to come over and have a real conversation, no bullshit.” he starts to walk away then pauses. “and um, just for the record i’m sorry for what i said about the rafe thing. i know you weren’t trying to hurt JJ, but he is bad news yn. you know that.” that’s the last thing he says. you can hear the sand dragging under his feet as walks away.
you sit there for a long time, breathing in the salt air, your brother’s words echoing over and over in your head like the waves hitting the shore—relentless, steady, impossible to ignore. the worst part is that he didn’t yell. he didn’t tear you apart or try to shame you into fixing yourself. he just said the truth and now it’s sitting in your chest like a stone.
you stare at the ocean, trying to convince yourself it’s not that deep. that he’s just overreacting. that jj is too. you’re not dying. you’re not doing drugs. you’re not crashing cars or stealing money or getting arrested. you’re still going to school. you’re still brushing your teeth. you’re still technically eating. it’s not like you’re that far gone.
but your hands are still trembling and you’re wearing a shirt that isn’t yours just to feel something that might make you stay.
and maybe you’ve been lying to everyone for so long that the only person who still halfway believes you is yourself.
maybe even that’s slipping.
eventually, you stand. your legs are shaky but they work. you make your way back to the van, each step slow, like you’re walking back into something you can’t undo. john b doesn’t say anything when you climb into the passenger seat. he just glances at you, then turns the keys in the ignition.
for a moment, there’s only the quiet hum of the engine.
“so you’re gonna text him?” he asks, voice casual, too casual. he keeps his eyes on the road as he starts backing out of the spot.
you stare out the window. “my phone’s at the house.”
“y/n—” he starts.
“i didn’t say i wouldn’t,” you cut in, sharper than you mean to. “i just genuinely can’t. at the moment.”
there’s a pause. then a small shake of his head as he glances over at you again.
“no, i was gonna say… he’s kind of already there.”
your head turns slowly. “what?”
“he showed up while we were gone…. well i like told him to.” john b says, careful, like he’s trying not to spook you. “he’s waiting.”
you blink at him. the information lands in your stomach like a weight. your breath hitches just slightly.
“…you’re an asshole,” you say, not even annoyed, just tired.
he smiles sheepishly. “yeah. maybe.”
there’s another long pause. the road winds in front of you, endless and quiet.
“but i’m worried about you, y/n,” he adds softly, not looking at you now. “i’m not gonna apologize for being worried.”
you don’t answer.
you don’t need to.
you just sit there, the sleeves of jj’s shirt pulled over your hands, your heart climbing into your throat as the van rolls closer and closer to home
