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vendettaparker · 4 years ago

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Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]

Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie.

Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing

a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.

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Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you.

You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie.

Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family.

Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day.

When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns.

“I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies.

“Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London.

“Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks

“I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—”

“Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.”

Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—”

“(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!”

“Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?”

The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back.

“I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room.

“Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison.

“I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.”

“It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath.

“Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”

“Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out.

Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended.

“Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined.

Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.”

Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.”

Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased.

“Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.”

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It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role.

You called Tom immediately to share the good news.

He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once.

“Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly.

“Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.”

“That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.”

“Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves.

“Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features.

“No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week.

“Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”

“Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.”

“If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”

“That’s cold (Y/L/N).”

You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”

“How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).”

You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:

Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊

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Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you.

“Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”

“Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments.

“Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.”

“What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing.

Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan.

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The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you.

The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded.

They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends.

After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf.

“Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them.

Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there.

“Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”

You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied.

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The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously.

The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with.

You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night.

Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings.

“Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with.

Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you.

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The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind.

When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone.

Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off.

“Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?”

“Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress.

“Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?”

“The one on Netflix?”

You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone.

“Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.

“I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to.

Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied.

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The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you.

You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event.

“So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.

“In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.”

“That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back.

“Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress.

You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence.

“So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face.

“What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.”

You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible.

“Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.”

“What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later.

“I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.”

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Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up.

The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source.

The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual.

Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part.

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The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done.

On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part.

You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set.

Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes.

“Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called.

You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month.

“Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him.

“Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure.

“Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped.

“A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.”

“Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.”

“Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly.

Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display.

“Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment.

You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs.

This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison.

“Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating.

The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another.

“Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?”

Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.”

Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?”

Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him.

So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips.

Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy.

Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end.

You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set.

“Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair.

Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly.

“Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye.

“I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot.

“Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.”

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Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore.

“Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never.

You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.”

Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him.

“Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out.

You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours.

“That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.”

Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take.

“Wait, what?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased.

“No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”

You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.”

Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away.

“What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.”

You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”

Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.”

You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.

“I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet.

Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently.

The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day.

“(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way.

Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom.

“Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier.

“You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #harrison osterfeild fluff #harrison osterfield #platonic!harrison osterfield

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krabjoons · 4 years ago

Text

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year.

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time.

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk.

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip.

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him.

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors.

from lisa: ayo talk to him

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes.

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact.

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true.

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp.

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies.

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement.

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response.

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes.

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too."

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances.

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum."

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal.

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds.

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then."

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room.

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?"

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door.

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private.

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room.

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again.

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head.

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl, Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you.

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately.

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down.

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom.

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation.

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks.

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom.

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation.

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!"

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement.

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix.

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently.

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly.

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement.

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now."

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place.

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk.

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud.

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you.

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?"

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment.

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation.

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you.

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?"

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs.

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret."

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on.

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future."

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

559 notes · View notes

yamag00ps · 4 years ago

Text

the in-between

pairing: akaashi x reader x bokuto

genre: friends to lovers, love triangle

contains: angst, fluff

word count: 3.3k

summary: What is the difference between the process of falling in love versus actually being in love?

note: this is longer than the others but it’s definitely my favorite part of all four :’) thank you for your patience! I had a lot of fun writing this and ngl I gave myself some butterflies.. Kjgfhbk ANYWAY! the flashback is a week before kuroo’s birthday party! after the flashback, the story resumes to akaashi and bokuto outside of kuroo’s apartment where the last chapter left off. I highly recommend listening to the songs mentioned while reading because it’ll really help you visualize the tone and mood of the story <3 enjoy!

part 1, part 2, part 3

songs: can’t help falling in love (cover) - kina grannis crazy for you - madonna

flashback - a week ago

Kina Grannis’s cover of Can’t Help Falling In Love played from Bokuto’s speakers as your eyes were glued to the screen. You’ve watched the wedding scene in the movie Crazy Rich Asians a million times, but it never failed to put stars in your eyes. Nick and Rachel gazed at each other, despite an entire wedding unfolding in front of them as if they were falling in love for the first time all over again. You were in awe of how the film captured the feeling of falling in love so flawlessly, without a single word being spoken.

Your eyes watered as Bokuto silently chuckled to himself. You came over for a movie night, but it seemed that Bokuto was watching you watch the movie instead. Akaashi was out of town to see family for a couple of days, so it was just the two of you for the night.

Bokuto found his own eyes watering as well, but not because of the movie. You looked over at him from the other end of the couch and he quickly turned back to the TV.

“Wait are you also crying?” You sniffled. Bokuto threw a pillow at you and scoffed, “..No.”

“What?! I’m just asking! I’m not judging,” your giggle turned into a sigh. “It’s magical.”

He smiled at the small pout on your face.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Magical.

Eventually, the end credits rolled and you both scrolled on your phones for a bit, your head laying on one arm of the couch and his head on the other.

“Have you ever been in love?” You lay your phone on your chest and stared at the ceiling.

“Hm.. I actually don’t know,” Bokuto scrunched his eyebrows slightly, “I think I’ve been close to it though.” He peeked over his phone at you. The television screen was now black, the moonlight being the only source of light in the room. You seemed to be deep in thought, hair disheveled from laying down for two hours, and lips slightly swollen from crying because of the movie. Beautiful was an understatement. Bokuto put his phone down to fully look at you, pure adoration and a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Do you think there’s a difference between falling in love and being in love?” You asked.

“I guess falling in love is when you believe you could eventually be in love with someone.”

“That’s a pretty way to put it,” you hummed in agreement.

“I wonder how long that ‘in-between’ time is, then,” you added, “like, if you think of it as a spectrum--beginning to fall in love on one side and then actually being in love on the opposite end. There’s that ‘in-between’ kind of grey area.” Bokuto watched in amusement as you talked with your hands.

Little did you know that that was where Bokuto currently was--the in-between of falling in love and being in love. With you. Bokuto smiled sadly upon realizing this. He was struggling not to cross that grey area, knowing it would only hurt him if he did. He couldn’t reach that far end of the spectrum, as it was currently reserved for his best friend.

At this point, Bokuto was well aware of his closest friends’ budding feelings for one another. It was in the way Akaashi looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. It was in your doe eyes every time you used Akaashi’s first name.

Bokuto had refused to confront his best friend for weeks now, convincing himself that if he ignored it long enough, it would go away and his premonitions wouldn’t be true. He also wasn’t ready to let go of his feelings for you, wanting to relish in them, without reserve, just a little longer. He was being selfish, not wanting something that felt so beautiful and pure to end just yet--even if it was unrequited.

However, despite everything, he found comfort in his feelings for you whether you reciprocated them or not. The feelings he had for you were so special, and most importantly, they were his alone. No one could take them away from him--not you, not Akaashi.

Until he met you, he had never known what it was like to feel so strongly for anyone. He had never experienced caring for someone so unconditionally and so purely. It felt like magic.

Magic. That was the only word that did you justice.

Bokuto was never going to forget these feelings and this was both a blessing and a curse.

“Bo?” you pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I think I’m in that in-between right now.”

You didn’t elaborate, but you didn’t have to. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was it. At the end of this conversation, it was time for him to let you go.

Thank you, he thought. Thank you for the magic.

“I think he might be too.”

end flashback

----------------------------------------

“I know.”

Akasshi opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How long has Bokuto known? Was it that obvious? Has Bokuto been silently resenting him all this time? If Bokuto knew, did you know too?

The two of them were now sitting on the steps of the building’s stairway with murmurs of the party on the other side of the door filling the silence. Bokuto’s head hung low as he contemplated what to say next.

“I’m sorry. I.. I won’t do anything about it if you don’t want me to,” Akaashi broke the silence.

Bokuto only shook his head at this, not saying a word. For the first time, Akaashi couldn’t read his best friend’s expression. Why did he look so defeated?

“I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I got in your way,” Bokuto finally spoke up.

“What? No, you knew her first. You have every righ--”

“I know I do,” Bokuto slightly smirked and nudged his best friend, “but she doesn’t look at me the way she looks at you.” Bokuto wasn’t angry. He almost seemed relieved, but Akaashi couldn’t pinpoint why.

Akaashi’s lips parted but was rendered speechless again. Was that true? He wanted to hope it was, but the guilt was eating him alive at this point. Truly nothing could have prepared him for this conversation.

“I’m not gonna lie, dude,” Bokuto let out a shaky sigh, “I want to be mad at you.”

Akaashi sighed and apologized again. He didn’t know what else to say.

“But that wouldn’t be fair. You can’t help how you feel and neither can she,” he shrugged.

“But I don’t even know if she likes me.”

Bokuto scoffed at this.

“Akaashi, I know I can be dense and a bit of an airhead sometimes, but even I can see it.” He snorted at his best friend’s obliviousness.

“You know, she asked me if you were single after you first met,” he quietly added with hesitancy in his voice.

“She did?”

“Yeah. At the time.. I convinced myself that I didn’t have to tell you because I assumed you didn’t care, but I was just being selfish,” Bokuto admitted.

“I don’t blame you. That’s fair,” Akaashi shrugged. The air around them seemed to feel less suffocating.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m really sorry. I mean it,” Akaashi added.

“Don’t be. You would have done the same for me,” Bokuto said sincerely. Akaashi didn’t have to say anything more, they both knew this was true.

Both of their phones chimed at once, receiving texts from you.

Y/N: where did you both go? I need a partner for pong :p

Y/N: wait who is even DD tonight

“Speak of the devil,” Bokuto joked. Akaashi stared at the screen a second longer.

“..Are you sure?” Akaashi asked for confirmation once more.

“Yeah man, I’ll get over it,” Bokuto forced a smile, “Now go find her before I change my mind.” He playfully punched his friend’s arm, though there was an edge to his voice.

“My only request is that you don’t do anything in front of me,” Bokuto added, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact.

“Of course not, I’m not a dick,” Akaashi scoffed, a bit offended at the request. Bokuto snorted at this.

“Debatable.”

The rest of the night was enjoyable, though Akaashi ended up not making a move, not wanting to take advantage of you while intoxicated. However, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t secretly enjoy how extra touchy you were, especially when you would discreetly yet casually reach for his hand every ten minutes.

But there was a specific moment of that night the two of you would ingrain into your minds.

A random girl stood at the front of the room, microphone in hand, as the opening lyrics to Madonna’s Crazy For You ran across the screen. This was your favorite karaoke song as a child, Akaashi knew this. He watched you from across the room and chuckled at the way your eyes widened and your tired figure suddenly sat up on the couch as you recognized the song. You caught his stare and rolled your eyes at his teasing, a slight blush on your face forming as you realized he was watching you.

I love this song, you mouthed. He smiled.

I know, he mouthed back. You smiled.

As the 80's hit played, you and a handful of other people sang along. Akaashi watched in amusement as you soulfully sang the lyrics with the girl next to you. Every now and then you would lock eyes with him and playfully point, singing the words as if they were directed at him.

I see you through the smokey air

Can’t you feel the weight of my stare?

You’re so close but still a world away

What I’m dying to say,

Akaashi was thankful for the dim lighting masking the blush growing on his cheeks. He shook his head with a smirk as you pointed at him, ignoring the growing ache in his heart. You have no idea what you do to me, he thought.

Is that I’m crazy for you

Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true

I never wanted anyone like this

It’s all brand new

He watched as you swayed your body to the music, singing with your eyes squeezed shut. At one point you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment as you jumbled the lyrics. He shook his head again, laughing to himself. You laughed with him as your gaze softened before you sang the next line.

Eye to eye, we need no words at all

Akaashi smiled back at you, wondering how someone who had been drinking all night managed to look so lovely.

Soon we two are standing still in time

If you read my mind, you’ll see

I’m crazy for you

The two of you seemed to be in your own little world, despite being on opposite sides of the room. Your face was starting to hurt from smiling, drunk on both alcohol and emotion. Anyone paying attention would have seen the hearts in both of your eyes.

Everything seemed to fade away from your periphery and all you saw was him. His gaze refused to leave yours as he was convinced that if he looked away for a split second, he would somehow lose you. In a room full of jumbled voices, the silent adoration you shared was deafening.

You felt like you were floating while simultaneously feeling the adrenaline of going downhill on a rollercoaster. Your heart felt like it was going to burst at any given moment, but you have also never felt so at peace. You struggled to comprehend the duality of the serenity and chaos coursing through your veins--and then it hit you.

This was the grey area. This was the in-between.

You were falling in love with Akaashi Keiji.

----------------------------------------

A week had passed since the party and Akaashi still had yet to confess--the adrenaline from that night slowly vanished, replaced with an irrational anxiety of running out of time.

Ever since he got home that night, Akaashi had been wracking his brain trying to figure out how to properly confess. Being the over thinker he is, he went through every scenario possible in his head, rewording his sentences over and over. The longer he waited, the more discouraged he became.

Strangely enough, the one who brought him back down to earth whenever he would get too in his head about his feelings was the source of his restlessness itself--you. Somehow you were both his chaos and his calm.

As the days passed, you noticed that he had become distracted more often than usual.

You two had been studying in the library for hours when you noticed that Akaashi’s mind seemed elsewhere. By now, you had memorized his tells like your favorite book. His knee bobbed up and down under the table, his hair was disheveled from repeatedly running his hands through it, and his eyes glazed over the textbook in front of him, not having turned a single page in the past twenty minutes. You knew he hadn’t gotten anything done since you sat down.

You closed your laptop and waited for him to match your gaze. It wasn’t until you rested your hand on his bobbing knee that he looked up at you and became aware of the amount of tension in his body. You gave him a small but sincere smile, wordlessly asking if he was okay. You rubbed his knee and he immediately relaxed at your touch, relief rushing through him.

Your timing was always perfect--constantly pulling him out of his overwhelming thoughts as if you could read his mind.

“Let’s take a break,” you whispered. He placed his hand on top of yours and gave it a squeeze, nodding.

It was funny--the concept of you distracting him from his thoughts about you.

The two of you ended up at the mall, people watching from a bench. This had become a favorite pastime for the both of you--picking out random passersby and creating extensive backstories about their lives. It was a way to destress and put your own lives on hold for a bit.

You spotted a couple sitting on a bench far enough away for you to talk about them.

“Those two are secretly pining for each other,” you nodded your head in their direction.

“Hm. Are they in love?”

“Oh no, not yet at least,” you speculated.

“And how do you know?” Akaashi mused.

“They’re sitting too far away from each other,” you stated matter-of-factly. Akaashi silently noted the distance between the two of you and compared.

“Huh. Okay,” He scooted closer, not being discreet at all. You held back a smile and refused to meet his gaze.

“How else can you tell?” He watched you intently, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“He’s giving her too much eye contact. He’s not nervous enough.” Akaashi scrunched his eyebrows in thought. Noted, he thought. Just as you looked up at him, he swiftly turned his head the opposite way with a small smirk on his face.

Doing your best to ignore him, you asked a question this time.

“Who do you think will make the first move?”

“Oh, definitely the guy,” Akaashi stated confidently.

“Oh?”

“It’s in his body language. His body is fully facing her,” Akaashi mimicked his position, now fully facing you with his right arm resting on the top of the bench behind you. You leaned back with your arms crossed, still facing forward to avoid looking at him. You felt his arm fall from the bench to your shoulders, his hand now tracing circles into your shoulder.

“And what does that mean?” you rolled your eyes, still refusing to face him. Your heart warmed as he mindlessly took one of your hands and started playing with your fingers.

“It means..” Akaashi took a deep breath as if he had prepared a full-blown explanation. You raised your eyebrows waiting for him to finish, eyes still on the couple. When he took too long to continue, you turned to face him and silently gasped upon realizing how close his face was to yours.

You felt yourself stop breathing as he hesitated before speaking. He kept his voice low as if he was sharing top-secret information.

“He really wants to kiss her.” It wasn’t until now that you realized the proximity of your faces in this position. His eyes bore into yours, flickering to your lips as if to ask for permission.

“Do you think she’d kiss him back?” you held your breath, your gaze also lowering to his lips.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he whispered, his lips just barely grazing yours.

You closed your eyes as you slightly tilted your head up, your lips lightly pressing against his, lingering a bit before pulling away. It was short and sweet. You looked down shyly, biting back a smile.

Akaashi watched you, his eyes low. He didn’t wait all this time for short and sweet. His left hand lifted your chin up as he attached his lips to yours again, kissing you with more passion this time. You held onto his wrist and kissed him back, matching his fervor.

“Keiji..” you barely managed to let out, as he wouldn’t stop kissing you (not that you were complaining).

If he initially thought your first name in his mouth was sweet.. The taste of his first name coming from your lips while they were melting into his? Jesus. His brain was short-circuiting.

You groaned upon realizing you were in a public space, but you couldn’t find the willpower to pull away either. All of Akaashi’s inhibitions were out the window. The only thing that mattered right now was you, as you wiped away every lingering trace of doubt, fear, and worry from his mind with every kiss.

“Keiji!” You laughed, attempting to pull away only for him to grab your chin and pull you back in.

One more, he thought.

“We’re the,” one more, “stereotypical,” another, “couple,” another one, “making out in the,” another, “middle,” one more, “of a,” last one, “mall,” for now. You giggled in between kisses. Akaashi chuckled and got a hold of himself, finally pulling away and resting his forehead on yours.

“Sorry,” he smiled shyly. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

You closed your eyes and blushed furiously at this. He pulled back further to get a better look at you with an eyebrow cocked.

“Couple, huh?” You already began shaking your head. “Wow at least ask me on a date first, you can’t skip important steps like that, F/N.”

“You kissed me first!” you laughed as you pushed him away.

“Did I, though?”

It took you a second to realize he was right. You were the one to lean into the first kiss. Ugh.

“Oh my god I’m leaving,” you walked off as you fought the smile on your face, not being able to handle his teasing any longer. He threw his head back laughing and quickly caught up to you. He tugged your hand and pulled you into him as his arm hooked around your shoulders again. You peeked up to catch him grinning ear to ear. He looked down at you, and pressed a kiss on your forehead. Not saying another word, you leaned into his hold and sighed.

You thought about all of the wordless moments the two of you shared. Akaashi Keiji wasn’t a very talkative person, but he didn’t have to be. All it took was one look, without a single word spoken, and you knew.

This was what falling in love felt like.

----------------------------------------

a/n: it’s finally done! thank you all for waiting!!! also, your feedback means so much and inspires me to keep writing so thank you all so much <3 (p.s. I love bokuto so so much I felt so bad hurting him but I’ll write something else to make it up to him lmao) also can I just say I love the way the chapter begins with her in awe of the love she saw on tv and then it ends with her finding that exact feeling with akaashi :p full circle hehe

part 1, part 2, part 3

#akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto #akaashi #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #angst to fluff #friends to lovers #love triangle #akaashi x y/n #hq akaashi #haikyuu imagines #hq scenarios #hq!! scenarios

169 notes · View notes

halloweenhoneylover · 4 years ago

Text

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you.

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach.

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

———

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call. (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously.

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye.

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again.

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

———

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings.

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

———

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled.

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good.

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence.

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation.

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #i hope yall see that the sentences that are syntactically similar and the parallel settings are intentional and are like stupid attempts at #motifs and that im not a stupid person :/#also #lol wtf was that ending #anyways #yo this may or may not be based on problems i be having irl #i just fall in love with anyone who is remotely kind to me #lmao #anyone else desperate for affection?? gang??#also r there any toni stans out there i luv my queen #is anyone out there? i just want friends ahh #ALSO DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE THE OVERWHELMING URGE TO DEVOUR THEIR GUMMY VITAMINS????? IS THAT JUST ME????

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xbaepsae · 4 years ago

Text

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can’t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

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outerbankswriting · 5 years ago

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Could it be? Chapter 7 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

Warnings: none

CHAPTER 7

You woke up to an empty bed.

JJ wasn’t by your side and he was nowhere to be seen in your room. But what surprised you the most was probably the fact you didn’t feel like a train had ran you over. Your head was pounding a little but that was about it, no other symptoms from a bad hangover.

You grabbed your phone and saw a couple of texts from Sarah, asking if you were alright and if you’d woken up yet.

You went to your bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth and numbly stared at yourself for a few minutes, wondering what exactly had happened last night.

You remembered pieces of it, but not everything.

What you did remember perfectly well was your little heartfelt moment with JJ and how he let it die out of nowhere. You felt embarrassed to say the least, but you were proud of yourself for not having opened your mouth to spill your feelings out.

You made your way downstairs to make yourself a quick breakfast and then go back to bed. You did not want to go outside today but your mind kept reminding you about JJ and you couldn’t help but wonder why he’d leave so early in the morning.

His bags were still in your room so you knew he would eventually come back anytime but you were an over-thinker, which didn’t help much.

As you were about to go inside your kitchen, your soul nearly left your body when you noticed someone sitting on your living room, but you felt like breathing again when you recognised the curly hair of your friend.

“Jesus Kiara,” you breathed out, “how did you get in?”

“JJ.”

“How long have you been here for?” You went to sit down next to her.

“Like an hour,” Kiara ran a hand through her locks, her hair smelling of fruity shampoo, “but if I’m being honest with you, after last night I though you were going to be dead all day.”

“Surprisingly I’m alive,” you chuckled, “guess my drinking game is getting stronger.”

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that.” She raised an eyebrow at you before letting out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You pretended to be shocked but ended up laughing too.

“What was even going through your head last night?”

“Man I don’t even know.”

You shrugged and made your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, Kie following you behind.

“Did JJ mention where he was going?”

You saw Kie smile mischievously after hearing your question.

“Is there a reason for that evil smile you’re throwing at me?”

“Is there a reason why you’re so worried about JJ?

You opened your mouth as if you were offended by her question, not really knowing what to say and trying to hide the blush coming to your face.

“I’m not worried,” you struggled to speak, “I just want to know why he left, that’s all.”

“Mhmm..”

“What I’m serious! I would ask the same if it had been John B or Pope or Sarah or anyone!”

“Right.” She nodded her head as she examined her nails.

“Kie.” You sighed at your friend.

“He said he was going to John B’s.”

“See? Was it so hard to tell me that?”

You made her a cup of tea and sat down to drink your coffee and eat your poorly made peanut butter sandwich.

“We’re best friends, aren’t we?” Kie said, taking a small sip of her green tea.

“Of course we are,” you grabbed her hand, “what kind of question is that?”

“Then tell me about JJ.”

“What do you me-“

“Cut the bullshit Y/N!” She desperately ran her hand through her hair, “You were crying about him last night!”

“I was?!”

Your cheeks began to burn as you tried to remember the events from last night and silently praying you hadn’t done something embarrassing.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“I just remember waking up here once JJ brought me back and taking some shots at the party but I can’t really remember what happened between that.”

Kie shook her head and chuckled before staring at you with her motherly look.

“Oh god what did I do?” You covered your mouth with your hands and Kie laughed at your anxious face.

“Calm down,” she giggled, “you could’ve done worse.”

“What did I do?”

“Well you cried, which is something we’re all used to you doing when you’re drunk,” she looked intriguingly at the ceiling, “you practically screamed you wanted to get laid.”

“Oh god.” You covered your face with your hands.

“You threw yourself at some tourist to make JJ jealous and then argued with him about the fact that he sleeps with any random girl he sees,” she used her fingers to count your actions, “oh and you also threw up in front of everyone.”

“Okay, alright, good.” You shook your head and worryingly stared at your friend.

“But hey, you were not so bad.”

“I mean I do remember flirting with the tourist a little but I can’t really remember much.”

“But you do remember what made you do all that.” Her words came out more like a statement than a question.

You just stared at your friend like a guilty puppy and slowly took a sip from your coffee.

“You’re too smart for me to lie about this.”

“Yeah I am.” She nodded and stared at you waiting for you to continue.

“Why are you staring at me like that? What exactly do you want me to say?”

“You like him, right?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You stared at your sandwich, trying to avoid eye contact with Kie.

“How long has this been going on?”

“I mean,” you took a deep breath, trying to think about when you’d actually started having feelings for JJ, “I think since about a few months ago.”

“A few months ago?” She opened her mouth in shock, “So you were crushing on JJ while you were dating Rafe?”

“Well considering the fact that I had stopped wanting to be with Rafe for like four months before we broke up, then yeah.”

“I knew it.” She smiled to herself.

“What do you mean you knew it?” You crossed your arms, “I never showed any signs.”

“The two of you are always flirting and you do show a little more appreciation towards him than the rest of the Pogues.”

“First of all,” you argued, “JJ is always flirting with everyone so it’s more of a friendly flirting going on.”

“Yeah, right, sure.” Kie muttered.

“And I care about all of you equally, it just happens to be that everyone is already coupled up so JJ and I are left to hang out more, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you try something?”

“Are you kidding? I’m not trying to be the joke of the group, thank you.”

You grabbed your empty cup of coffee and and washed it while Kie gulped down what was left of her tea.

“I’m just saying,” she went on, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I don’t know, something could happen.”

“Yeah well, that’s a road I’m not yet ready to explore.”

“I think you should. He could use some of that real love you know?”

“Kie..” You took a deep breath and turned to stare at your friend, “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

“Fine.”

“Promise me you won’t tell, please.”

Kie nodded and helped you clean the rest of the dishes before you made her wait downstairs while you changed into some decent clothes. Kie convinced you on going to John B’s place to spend the rest of the day since everyone but Sarah, were going to hang there.

“Look who’s here,” John B’s face lit up as soon as he saw yours, “my favourite drunk.”

“Shut up.” You shook your head and walked inside his place, your eyes immediately spotting JJ sitting down on the coach drinking a beer.

“How are you alive after all those tequila shots?” Pope asked.

“Well, she did throw up everything during the party.” John B added.

“What was all your crying about though? You scared me.” Pope went on.

You grunted and covered your face with your hands, sitting down next to Pope.

“Ugh, give me a break.” You muttered.

“It was fun though, great party.” John B nodded and so did Pope.

You noticed JJ silently taking sips of his beer, avoiding any possible eye contact with you. You shot a look at Kiara who was already staring at you, letting you know she knew what you were thinking and nodding her head as if to give you permission.

“Hey JJ,” you stood up, “can we talk?”

You felt your heart speed up as everyone remained silent and JJ looked up to you, you could feel your hands had starting to shake right there.

“Yeah sure.”

You and JJ made your way outside the house after Kiara broke the awkward silence and tension inside the house. You sat down on the grass and JJ copied you.

“I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me last night.” You broke the silence between the two of you.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he played with the leaves on the grass, “that’s what friends are for.”

Friends. Right.

“Yeah of course,” you bit your lip nervously, “I’m also sorry for the way I acted last night, you know.. Kie told me everything.”

“She did?” He finally decided to stare at your eyes.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I didn’t remember what happened last night so when sh-“

“You don’t remember?”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden interest on what you were saying.

“I do now, sort of.”

He nodded and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but immediately closed it.

“Why are you acting so weird with me?” You raised your voice a little.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” you changed your position and sat down in front of him, giving him no choice but to look at you, “you left in the morning without telling me a word and when I arrived here you didn’t even look at me and now you’re acting as if you don’t want to talk to me!”

“God Y/N!” Now he was raising his voice too, “I didn’t wake you up because I figured you’d want to rest because of your hangover and everything else you’re saying is just you overthinking it as always!”

“I’m not overthinking it JJ,” you didn’t take your eyes off his, “you did the same thing last night!”

“What thing?!”

“When we almost kissed!”

You saw his eyes widen as soon as the word “kissed” left your mouth and you mentally slapped yourself for bringing it up but you knew it was needed to.

“Yes JJ, I do remember what happened last night alright? And I also remember how you left me on the floor and acted all serious after it happened, almost as if you were repulsed by it.”

“Repulsed?!” He raised his eyebrow at you.

“I said what I said.” You argued.

“Y/N you were drunk!” He raised his hands on the air desperately.

“No shit really? I didn’t know that!” You said sarcastically.

“I wasn’t going to take advantage of you!”

His words made the ones you were about to say stop from coming out.

You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at him.

“It’s alright Y/N,” he lowered his voice as he noticed you were tongue-tied, “we all do stuff we wouldn’t do when sober while we’re drunk.”

“JJ I-“

“Don’t worry Y/N. If you’re worried about me telling the guys about what nearly happened last night, just know that I won’t.” He smiled and the smile confirmed you JJ was back to normal with you.

“So we’re good?” You asked.

“We are.” He winked and helped you stand up from the ground, taking your hand and walking you towards John B’s house.

These mixed signs were going to drive you crazy. Did he mean he would’ve kissed you if you hadn’t been so drunk? Was it just the heat of the moment? Was it a pity move? What even was that?

As soon as you walked inside John B’s house, an overly excited Sarah ran into you.

“Why weren’t you answering my calls?” She had a worried yet happy look on her face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring my phone, but what’s going on?”

“We need to go buy our dresses together, I’m calling dips on the color green.” She smiled and you looked over at JJ who was equally confused as you.

“Dresses for what?”

Sarah turned to face you, a puzzled look on her face.

“Our families are throwing a party for the business deal they just closed,” she explained, “as soon as your parents come back from their trip of course.”

“Why do they need to throw a party for that?”

“You know how they are,” she rolled her eyes, “and some important business people are also coming to celebrate and stuff. I don’t really understand but I know it’s a huge thing.”

“Are we invited or is it only for Kooks?” JJ added and Sarah bit her lip.

“I mean it’s a family business thing but I’m sure we can manage to le-“

“I’m joking Sarah, I’m not trying to start shit with Kooks again.”

“Of course you’re invited. All of you.” You added and the Pogues just stared at you, knowing they weren’t going to be wanted at the party but not wanting to argue with you.

After everyone got back to talking nonsense and drinking, Sarah pulled you over to John B’s room to organise your dress shopping day.

“Do we really have to do this now? My parents aren’t even here yet and I-“

“No it’s not about that.” Her face was serious now.

“Then?”

“It’s about my brother.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“What about him?”

“My parents and your parents sort of think you’re still dating him.”

You raised an eyebrow at her and chuckled.

“That’s bullshit, my mom knows I broke up with Rafe.”

“Well apparently my stupid brother told my parents and your dad that you’re still dating and now you have to present yourselves as a couple during the party.”

You laughed louder, but the feeling of anger was consuming you.

“That’s stupid,” you said, “I’m not doing that. Plus how does us dating have anything to do with our parents’ business?”

“Nothing! That’s exactly what I told Rafe but he ju-“

“Doesn’t want to disappoint your dad, of course,” you sighed, “I’m going to have to talk to him.”

“Are you sure about that?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Do I have any other choice?”

“Well, you’re right,” she said, “I’m sorry about my stupid brother.”

“Hey don’t apologise for that,” you grabbed her hand, “I’m the one who dated him.”

-------------------

CH.8

A/N: sorry for making it so long!! I got carried away and I’m already working on chapter 8 because I’m just TOO EXCITED for what’s to come... hope you guys like this one!!! (I also want to apologise for not adding the rest of you to the taglist but it’s getting sooo long! I’m going to try and tag the ones I’m missing when I have the time!)

------------------

taglist: @babygirlizz - @atabigail - @poguesrforlife - @behappyitsemmalie - @jane-dough - @yeeedolan - @dontjinx-it - @sofiaconlaz - @fangirlwithme - @outermaybank - @hueycat2004 - @nope-thanks - @weasleyswizarding-wheezes - @haleswale - @hungoverhellhound - @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch - @asapkyndall - @hailiemarieeee - @emmasjulixn - @spideyyeet - @rosenbug - @cassidyiscool - @harrysbbby - @thatshiscigar - @kiarascarreras - @uhuh-listenboy - @normatural - @goldenariana - @heyyimlaynna - @lukvv - @irontoadllamaclam - @allisjustok - @saturno007 - @pluckypete - @pennepasta82 - @howdyherron - @perfektionsmakel - @dylanpain - @tulzu - @voidsxnsets - @shadesofbarryallen - @rimbougrine - @dolanfivsosxox - @allisjustok - @stell-rosie - @spoopysidemen - @optimisticherolightpanda - @dolansbeanies - @arsejungle - @missenchanted27 - @ctrlyouthmendes - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @hazelgirl355 - @sehunniehaechannie - @sweetwaterprincess - @ues-swiftie - @deadsunflower01 - @ghostlywombatnickelpeanut - @moadvx - @peachy-ness - @supersouthy - @howdyherron - @retro-mayfield - @cyxbv - @ydoesthesunsetbaby - @bellageorge03 - @thelittletank - @emmalvei-blog - @eaturveggiesbabe - @katiepego - @books-crushed-my-soul - @iamaunicorn4704 - @mrmaybaby - @sloanology - @wildest-dream- - @maplelattes22 - @disaster-rose - @5am-cigarette - @ravenclawmarvel - @peterbrokenparker - @pickeringshawnn - @thatshiscigar - @lovelydina - @sspidermanss - @lollypop-lam - @drunkwallows - @a-wari - @ajxlawley - @briiiimiranda - @oceantostars - @jordangdelacruz - @brightnss - @classywaves - @ironbuckley - @cilorawr - @the-beauty-queenn - @mileven-reddie - @blueegansey - @livingforbarnes - @angelnoirr - @fashionlive15 - @harrysbbby - @eb15 - @lcil123 - @drunkwallows - @uhuh-listenboy - @caringparker - @tangledinsparkles - @wildflower-lrh - @lollypop-lam - @mxrvelistic - @jeffsbarbershop - @bananasundae13 - @llunarist - @nick-awwstin - @aftertaxte - @timotaychalabae

#outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks fanfiction #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader

1K notes · View notes

maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29: You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place.

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement.

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!”

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time.

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds.

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table.

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal.

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed.

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he��d met his soulmate.

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years.

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket.

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer.

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting.

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched.

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath.

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug.

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute.

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing.

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went.

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet.

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table.

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis.

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now.

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was.

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now.

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma.

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that.

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay.

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all.

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof?

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND.

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in.

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone.

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket.

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies.

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back.

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself.

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better.

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers.

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands.

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda.

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid.

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued.

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food.

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little.

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought.

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…”

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster.

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness.

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions.

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while.

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process.

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas.

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist.

@sapphic-satan

@anxious-logic

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@extraintrovertedalien

@punk-academian-witch

@ray-does-stuff

@chimneychimney

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@falsemood

@wtf-casper

@cpmansion

@killjoyjay

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#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanderssides #sanderssidesau #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #ts soulmate au

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capstoverogers · 3 years ago

Text

A Soul for a Soul - Chapter 2

Pairings: Past Natasha Romanoff/Black!Reader, Eventual Carol Danvers/Black!Reader

Genre: Grief/Angst

Warnings: Mention of Characters' Death, Cursing, Lots o' Sad

Word Count: 3,016

Chapter 1

-----

There was a party raging on the battlefield, because no one didn’t know what else to do, except you all knew Tony would want you to celebrate. But maybe everyone just wanted to put off mourning till morning, didn’t quite yet want to deal with the consequences, for better or for worse.

It was an easier concept to swallow when Thor and his pretty warrior friend with the flying horse disappeared for a moment, then came back in minutes with as much Asgardian beer and liquor as they could manage (which, between the two of them, was a whole damn lot). A friend of Rocket’s - Star Lord - then took the charge, cracking open the first beer and finishing off half it in a single gulp before blasting some mix tape of 70s tunes from his space ship that soon turned the battlefield, this graveyard, into an all-out function.

The largest fire you’d ever seen raged where the compound once stood, courtesy of Zoey, and bodies started to move under the moonlight, freely to the music, helped of course by the copious amount of liquor that helped bury down any sense of sadness in favor of this celebration.

You couldn’t focus, though. You still hadn’t managed to find Nat in this swarm of familiar and strange faces, and she was the only one you wanted to see. Once you had her in your arms, then you could let yourself celebrate - or at least you could try. Even as everyone slowly started to let loose, there was this permeating sense of sadness, as prevalent as the cascades of smoke soaring upward from the fire, as no one could escape the thought of the sacrifice that allowed you all to celebrate like this.

It was like everything was in the way, though, and you supposed you could give a few minutes to these friends who you hadn’t seen in years before you found your wife.

“I can’t believe you’re married!” Zoey was gushing as you stood in a small circle with Bucky, Sam and Steve; the superpowered were wielding Asgardian drinks while the rest of you eyed their bottles enviously. You couldn’t help but grin, showing off the simple, but sleek vibranium band on your finger as Sam pretended to squeal like a valley girl with a hand to his chest and Bucky shot you a simple grin as he held out his metal arm.

“We match.”

You beamed at him, though not with the fervency of Steve, who hadn’t pulled his eyes from the Winter Solider for a second since the battle had ended. Well, except to urgently meet your eyes, seemingly desperate to pull you away for a private moment. You didn’t know why - didn’t know if you wanted to know why - and found yourself avoiding his gaze as it drifted to the crowds of people, hoping to catch the one face you wanted to see above all else.

“I feel like I know no one,” Zoey murmured beside me, also taking in all the people around her. “It’s weird to think that it’s been five years. It felt like…a malfunction. One second I was gone and the very next second, I was here, like nothing happened. Like the world had just…glitched.”

“Like a blip,” Bucky said knowingly. Zoey nodded with a frown, then perked up when the Jackson 5 started blaring from the speakers. She turned eagerly to you, already drifting to where Star Lord had started up a makeshift dance floor.

“We gotta dance!”

Sam was nodding fervently, a little grin playing at his lips as he started to move easily to the beat. You grinned a little, but you were still so distracted, especially as you could sense Steve about to interject, his eyes once again set on you, and you couldn’t get caught in a conversation with him. As much as you truly loved him, they tended to be endless.

“I’ll meet y’all out there,” you assured, backing away before their protests could fully reach your ears. “Gotta find Nat.”

“(Y/N)…” Steve started, but Zoey beat him to it as she nodded with a grin.

“Oh, I bet you do,” she said, eyebrows waggling ridiculously, and man, you missed this. You laughed heartily, then turned away, starting to feel desperate the deeper you got in the crowd. It had been over an hour - where had she been?

You finally caught a glimpse of Clint, who had seemingly changed into his civilian clothes, your heart spiking when you saw that he was talking to someone who his body mostly obscured, but you could tell it was a woman shorter than him. Of course your best bet would be to find Nat with Clint; she’d probably got caught up in the crowd and reunion just like you did, but just like he’d promised before he left, Clint was still looking out for your girl.

Before you could make my way over to them, though, you found yourself colliding straight into Peter’s strong chest. He stumbled back, the profuse apology already tumbling off of his lips, only slowing down when he noticed it was you. All thoughts of making your way to Natasha fled from your mind as you took in your friend’s red eyes, half-empty bottle of aged Asgardian liquor in his hand and the sway in his step.

“How are you, Pete?” You asked, stepping close so he could hear your voice, soft with compassion and concern.

“Drunk,” he hiccuped with a brief, bright smile that reminded you of the fifteen year old boy you had met years ago before it quickly faded. “And sad.”

Peter was always the type to wear his heart on his sleeve - one of the things that hadn’t changed about him, along with his forever gentle and earnest brown eyes. Even as he sprouted up - shoulders broader and jaw firmer and covered in the scruff he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave off yet - he was still Peter. Just a wearier, more mature one, but still always filled with a hope that had helped fuel you all.

As much as your own heart hurt over the loss of Tony, it hurt even more seeing clearly how it was affecting Peter. You’d never seen him drunk before. Granted, it took a lot of Earth liquor for someone like him to even get a buzz, but the way his words slurred off of his tongue was telling.

“I’m sorry, Pete.”

He shrugged, eyes glazing over for a second before his attention drifted to the music. He perked up slightly.

“Hey, is that Zoey?!” He smiled a little in wonder, eyes honing in on The Flame as she figuratively burned a hole in the makeshift dance floor. She had attracted the attention of a drunk Star Lord, who was laughing as she showed everyone up. “Wow. I haven’t seen her in…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as he struggled to count.

“Five years,” you supplied, your smile more soft than mocking as he turned back to you with an eager nod. “You go say ‘hi.’ She’ll like that. I’m gonna find Nat.”

“Okay!” Peter chirped, seemingly drunk and distracted enough by Zoey to let his sadness fall to the wayside, at least for a moment. He began to stumble towards her, but stopped, something pensive crossing his gaze. “It’s not weird anymore.”

You furrowed your brow at him, “What’s not weird?”

“If me and her went out. S’not weird anymore ‘cause I’m grown up.”

You chuckled fondly at how ironically boyish he sounded. Peter’s crush on Zoey back in the day had bordered on infamous with how completely obvious it was, but of course she had seen him as nothing but a little brother, with the nine year age difference and all.

But you guessed that was a four year age difference now.

“Better get on it before that Star Douche dude does,” you said, nodding to how the aforementioned space punk was dancing a little too closely to Zoey in a way that was almost rhythmic and would have maybe been charming if you weren’t already decidedly Team Peter Parker. You clapped Peter on the back, and you grinned at each other. He started to sway towards the dance floor, his shoulders bouncing to the beat, and you watched him for a second.

“Hey Peter?”

He looked at you curiously over his shoulder. You offered him a small smile.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you said. “I know it doesn’t really feel like it now, but…we’ll get through this too.”

You were happy to see his smile sincere, no matter how small it was. He nodded once, then turned back towards Zoey and the dance floor, finally leaving you to make your way to Natasha.

Except as you got closer to Clint, you realized that he wasn’t talking to Nat, but his wife, who he must’ve fetched from their home - along with their kids - and brought back to the celebration. You furrowed your brow at how even from across the way, you could notice how red his eyes were as his shoulders seemed permanently slumped. Tony meant a lot to everyone, but you hadn’t expect to see Clint that affected.

“(Y/N)!”

You let out a sigh as you recognized Steve’s voice from behind. In a second, his long steps led him right in front of you, this striking mix of urgency and tragedy saturating his blue eyes as he gazed down at you.

“I need to talk to you,” he said in a quiet, serious tone. He took ahold of your wrist, firmly but gently, and you knew you had no chance of pulling away from his grip.

“Can it wait?” you pleaded, your head started to crane around again. “I just really want to see Nat.”

When you looked back at him, something had completely crumbled in his gaze as he stared down at you, and you knew immediately. You think you knew the second you’d stepped foot on the battlefield and hadn’t seen her, hadn’t felt her, but had buried the feeling down deep, because it couldn’t be true.

“(Y/N)…”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as you tried to step back, though Steve’s tightened grip held you in place. “Steve, no.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Your voice stretched and cracked as your eyes started to sting. This wasn’t happening. You were misreading this. Nat was about to come up to you at any second, wrap her arms around your waist, assure you that she was there, that everything was okay.

“To get the soul stone, it required a sacrifice,” Steve said, voice strained and eyes pained, and slowly you started to feel everything crumble around you. “A soul for a soul. Clint tried to stop her, tried to give his life, but you know Nat…”

He tried to smile; it didn’t hit.

You did know Nat. How she always felt like she wasn’t doing enough. How she never felt like she had fully atoned for the darkness of her past. How big and noble her heart was, how she would do whatever it took to complete the mission, if it meant it would save you all.

It’s why you loved her so much.

It felt like your chest was about to collapse on itself. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t see through the mess of tears streaming down your face. This couldn’t be real.

You could feel Steve’s arm start to come around you, but you pulled away, shaking your head as he stared at you helplessly. He was one of the greatest heroes Earth had ever known.

But there was nothing he could do about this.

-----

One shot of Asgardian liquor, and you were done. Thor wasn’t kidding about that shit.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. Could’ve been ten minutes. Could’ve been three hours. You sort of wished that it was the rest of your life, that Thanos would’ve managed that snap before Tony snatched the glove away from him - then you wouldn’t have to feel.

The next best thing, though? Being fucking drunk. The ache was there, but it was more numb. Your head unconsciously swayed to the music, fainter from where you sat in the dirt, yards away from the party. You fingered your wedding band and felt so fucking empty, but somehow it was okay, because you were drunk.

You wanted to kill Clint. He told you he’d look out for her. You trusted him to fucking look after her.

Then you remembered how broken he looked when you’d caught a glimpse of him and realized that if there was anybody who could understand how you were feeling, how you were trying not to feel, it was him.

You were rooted to the spot, though. Maybe you’d never move again. Why did it have to be Nat who went to that dumb planet to get that stupid stone? It couldn’t have been anyone else? No one knew what you’d have to lose in order to win?

You heard footsteps approaching, and usually your reflexes were sharp (you hadn’t climbed your way up the S.H.I.E.L.D. hierarchy by being slow, after all. You wondered what your job would be now that Fury and Hill were surely back. You wondered if you’d make it past this night), but it took you a long second to pull your head up from where you had been staring at your ring.

You squinted at the strong-stanced blonde hovering carefully a few feet away from you. Her figure was imposing, but somehow you could tell that her eyes were soft.

“Hey,” you coughed up a hiccup, “hey, Carol.”

She looked amused and pitying at the same time as she nodded, taking a slow step closer.

“Hey (Y/N),” she said softly. She glanced down at the bottle perched in the dirt by your feet, chanced a small smirk. “I don’t think that stuff’s made for people like you.”

“You mean us mere mortals?” You slurred with a stupid, bitter sort of grin followed by a hollow chuckle.

Her own grin was drowning in the pity now.

“Yeah. No offense.”

You shrugged. You didn’t care. Nothing like spending the past decade with a bunch of super-humans to make one deeply confront their own mortality. You’d reckoned with your normalcy a long time ago, the fact that you’d never be as great as them, no matter how hard you tried.

“How about sad people?” You said after a moment.

Her brow furrowed, puzzled.

“Sad people,” you reiterated with a slur. “This shit made for sad people? ‘Cause I’m…” You frowned for a moment. “Not sad. ‘Cause sad’s a feeling, and I don’t think I have those anymore.”

You were kind of confused by the understanding in Carol’s eyes, and you realized you knew next to nothing about her. You knew she’d saved Tony, Peter and Nebula from space five years ago, and she was possibly the most powerful being you’d ever seen. You knew she’d known Fury since you were a child and that you liked her. She felt safe without trying, was witty and to-the-point and was really easy to get along with. She’d swing by the compound to check in, every few months, and it was always nice when she did.

“I heard what happened.” You don’t know when, but suddenly Carol was sitting next to you, and you think she was trying to drown you in sympathy as she looked intently, but gently at you. “I’m sorry.

You peered at her for a long second, then shook your head.

“You can say her name, you know,” you announced, strangely angry at the vagueness of her statement, like you were fragile, like your entire childhood hadn’t been marred by loss and struggle. “Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff to us dumb Americans.” You gave a laugh that came out more as a hiccup. “Black Widow. My wife.”

You ran your fingers across your wedding band as Carol watched quietly. You couldn’t really read her gaze, didn’t really care to, but she’d stopped looking at you like you were the most pathetic creature in the world, so that was nice at least.

The two of you were silent for a moment. You kept playing with your wedding band. You and Natasha had been married for one month, two weeks, three days. You thought you’d have forever. Everything burned. Your eyes, your throat, your chest.

“I lost a wife too.”

Your head snapped up. Carol was staring off towards the party, the fire still going strong.

“The same one, three different times,” she continued with a dry chuckle. “I won’t lie, it’s different than your situation, but…”

She shrugged, turning her head towards you with a slight smile.

“I know what it’s like, feeling like your entire life has been ripped away from you and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m the biggest bad ass in the universe,” she gave a self-aware smirk, and it actually made you grin a little, “but I still couldn’t get her back.”

Helpless. That’s exactly how you felt. You’d always been able to get what you wanted, even against the most seemingly insurmountable odds - you had grown up an orphan in the hood, for Christ’s sake. But now there was this, and you knew you couldn’t get what you wanted this time. As hard as you tried, as much as you worked, what could you possibly do in the end?

You wanted to cry. You just hiccuped instead, then appraised Carol curiously.

“She didn’t die three times, though,” you said with drunken certainty. “Your wife.”

“No. Just the last time,” Carol said simply. Her words surprised you; you’d assumed maybe Carol’s wife had been snapped away but was back now. “I lost her a long time before that, though.”

There was steadiness, a resignation to the sadness that tinged her otherwise cool voice.

“Oh.” You shifted a little. “Sorry.”

She shrugged, meeting your eyes again.

“Me too.”

Taglist: @afuckingshituniverse

#carol danvers x reader #avengers x reader #wlw #natasha romanoff x reader #black!reader

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

Little Village {Finale?}＊Outer Banks＊

find the other seven parts here!

word count - a lot but not too many warnings - Swearing, fighting, that whole deal synopsis - An unwanted person shows their face and everything changes. tagging - @apoguecalledjj @ijustreallylovethem @deathcompass @lolitstiana @jxpiter-sxturn @parkerpetertingle @diverrdown , @ponyboys-sunsets, @outerbanksbro, @alexandracheers, @x-lulu a/n - I think there might only be one more chapter after this depending on how this goes down, so that’s exciting. Also, thank you to @raesficrecs for giving me the motivation to finish this chapter. I’m sorry to everyone else that it has taken this long. Also, I wanted to let everyone know that it has been a little bit over a year since the start of this story which makes June now 19 and all of the Pogues 18 or older. Just so ya know. Also, after this chapter, if you want to do requests of what you’d like to see from June and the Pogues, let me know! Because I think this is the end of the plot that I had planned. Okay, back to the story.

“Okay, the two of you have got to knock it off.”

This was the fifth week in a row that the dinner table had been silent save for the brief crying of Eleanor. June and JJ sat on opposite ends of the table as far away from each other as possible. John B sat somewhere in the middle, eating his soup with a scowl on his face. But he had enough.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on between the two of you and, frankly, I don’t care. But you are really bumming me out.”

JJ scoffed, his eyes fixed on his bowl of soup as he obnoxiously sipped from his spoon. John B looked to June, who rolled her eyes and picked up her bowl of soup and made for the nursery.

“Dude, what did you do?” John B asked his friend.

JJ just shrugged.

June leaned over the crib, smiling as she waved a stuffed giraffe over Eleanor. The Little Pogue grinned, quiet laughs coming from her as she stretched up her hands for the plushie.

“My sweet girl,” June mused, reaching toward her daughter and stroking her cheek with a finger. “What would I do without you?”

Life carried on.

JJ stayed away. He was barely ever at the Chateau when June was. She knew that he was over sometimes when she wasn’t around, to talk to John B or to see Eleanor. Part of June wanted to ban him from her property entirely, but that felt cruel. She knew how much Eleanor meant to him, and taking that joy away from him for her own mistakes didn’t feel right.

She spent a lot of her time at Kie’s house with Sarah and Eleanor. They tried hanging out at the Cameron abode, but June felt tense every time she saw Rafe. He always kept his distance, but June struggled to trust him, even if she was working on forgiving him.

The day that Sarah finally told John B that Rafe had come back, June cried in the bathroom for an hour. John B was as stubborn as she was. And he hated Rafe more than most everyone else except maybe Pope and Sarah. June was barely surviving without JJ. She couldn’t handle losing Sarah as well. It felt as though her little village was falling apart and there was nothing she could do to hold it together.

John was angry. He was hurt. He was scared. But he loved Sarah more than he hated Rafe. He held her hand as she cried. He forgave her for not telling him sooner. He kissed her forehead and told her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

June knew he wasn’t going to the Cameron house as long as Rafe lived under the roof. He had a hard enough time having lived there himself for a while.

Knowing that she wasn’t about to lose another one of her friends, June could finally breathe again.

After John B told her everything that had happened with Sarah, he saw the distant look in June’s eyes and reached across the table to grab her hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“It’s nothing.” She smiled at him. “I’m just glad you and Sarah are working through it.”

John B knew his sister. He could read her like a book. Something was very much the matter. But she was as stubborn as a mule and she wouldn’t budge once she had decided on something. And June had decided that nothing was wrong.

~~~

The Heywards invited the Routledge’s over every week for a family dinner. Sitting at a table that didnt wobble with food that wasn’t heated up in the microwave was always nice. But June liked the company more than anything else.

Two parents, her brother, one of her best friends, and her baby. It felt like family.

They laughed, talked about their days, made jokes, teased Pope.

This week, John B left early. Kie was helping him study for a test he had that week.

Pope took June out to the back where they had set up a rundown basketball hoop. June had never been coordinated athletically. She failed miserably at anything sports related. But Pope liked to help teach her.

They stood out in the cold while Mrs and Mr Heyward coddled Eleanor.

June huffed in irritation as she tossed the ball, missing the basket entirely but hitting the backboard.

“What’s on your mind?” Pope asked, making a perfect basket.

“How much I suck at this,” June said.

Pope would have laughed if he hadn’t been so worried about her.

“What’s really going on?” He asked and tucked his ball under his arm so she couldn’t throw it again.

She looked at him with pinched eyebrows.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t appreciate being lied to, June.”

“I’m not lying-“

“You’re very clearly lying to me.”

June made a face that looked like she was sucking on a lemon. She finally sighed.

“JJ brought a girl into the house,” she said finally.

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Pope passed her the ball.

June bounced it against the ground and nodded her head.

“So you revoked his Eleanor pro ledges?”

“More like I revoked his me privledges.”

“Ah.”

June threw the ball and missed again. A glare settled on her brow as she went to retrieve the ball.

“Is it the rule breaking you’re upset about or the fact that there was another girl in the house?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is you being protective of Eleanor and one is being protective of you.”

June paused, looking at Pope with her scowl. But he didn’t back down.

“I’m not following.”

“You don’t want girls in the house because that’s strangers you don’t know hanging around your baby. Understandable. You also don’t want girls around because you know the only reason JJ does it is to shove your face in the fact that it’s not you.”

June threw the ball again, but this was anger. She hurled it at the backboard as hard as she could and watched as it hit the ground.

“There it is again.” Her words were quiet because she was afraid if she let herself talk any louder, she would be screaming.

“There what is?”

She whirled around to face Pope, her eyes cold as steel.

“Everyone thinking they know me. You, Kie, Sarah, Rafe. You think you have me figured out.”

Pope didn’t say anything, but his face spoke volumes.

“You think if I was in love with JJ I’d be the first to know it?” Pope raised his eyebrows almost in shock but June didn’t see it as she turned in an angry circle. “I wouldn’t need everyone going around telling me how I feel!”

With her back to him, June was able to let out a heavy sigh, calming her nerves.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No worries,” Pope said. “Maybe it’s not that we know better than you, but maybe we’re seeing things from a perspective you’re not.”

June turned around slowly, hands on her hips.

“You really think I’m in love with JJ?”

“I think you need him.” Pope picked the ball of the ground. “And I know he needs you.”

He tossed the ball June’s way before heading back toward the house. June caught the ball with a heavy breath. She stared at it in her hands for a few moments. Looking up at the basket, she absently threw the ball and turned to follow Pope.

She didn’t see the ball go through the basket.

~~~

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” June said, a little louder than she meant to.

The little old lady she was trying to serve coffee too looked up at her.

“What’s wrong, dear?” The woman asked, not mentioning the fact that her normally very sweet waitress just swore.

June couldn’t tear her eyes away from the car that had just parked in the parking lot. She knew that car. Its license plate number was seared into her head, the sound of the plastic die clanking together already echoing through June’s head.

“I’m going to send another waitress to serve you, Phyllis, okay?” June said. Even as she spoke, June didn’t take her eyes off of the car, or the person sitting in the front seat.

“Oh, um-”

“Kay, thanks.”

June spun around and almost ran for the counter. She gently grabbed hold of another waitress’ arm and pointed toward Phyllis, who stared after her with a concerned look in her eyes.

“June, you okay?” The waitress, Cedar, asked.

“Just peachy.”

June glanced behind her as the bell of the diner rang. She swallowed a yelp as she ducked and scurried for the kitchen, where she hoped her manager would be.

David saw her practically hiding behind a pile of dirty pots and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing back here, Routledge?”

“David!” June stood up straighter and shot a glance out to the house, where a man was beginning to pace around, looking for someone. “I need to take the rest of the day off.”

“What?”

“I’m feeling-” June faked a cough. “Ill.”

“June, you worked while eight months pregnant. I don’t think you’d want me to send you home over a cough. What’s going on?”

June scowled, but glanced back out toward the man. He didn’t look a day older than when she had last seen him, a little more than a year ago now. She ground her teeth together before looking back at David.

“My ex,” she said, nodding toward the man. “Fred.”

“Eleanor’s father?” David sounded purely shocked as he snapped his head around to catch a look at Fred.

“He’s not her father,” June snapped, before realizing the tone she was taking with the man she was currently begging to let her off work. “Dave, I just-“

“You don’t have to explain anything, Routledge. We’re pretty light today. Take the day off.”

June let out a steadying breath and nodded her head.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

June grabbed her things from her cubby before making for the back door as quickly as possible. Hurrying across the parking lot, she forced herself to keep her gaze on her car. She just had to reach her car.

“June!”

She startled, gasping as she tightened her hands around her keys, but she didn’t turn around.

He said her name just like he always had; irritated, as if she was always rubbing him the wrong way.

June was 17 when she met Fred. He was a Kook and he promised to help her and John B out with DCS until she turned 18 and could take care of the both of them. Fred was 26. She thought she owed him something when she turned 18. Next thing she knew, she was pregnant and he was throwing her out to the street.

June didn’t cry over him. She had never been attached to him. But she was afraid of him. Part of wondered if he would come back to try and claim Eleanor as his own. He was on and off Kildare for business trips and it appeared he had just returned.

“June, I know you can hear me.” June kept walking, refusing to even acknowledge that he was there. “Damn it, June,”

She heard him walk closer to her. She thought about booking it, but she didn’t want to show him fear. She didn’t want him to have that satisfaction. So, she let him get closer. She let him run after her.

Fred grabbed her by the wrist and she spun around to face him. She hadn’t seen him in over a year, yet he already looked much older.

“What do you want?” she asked, curling her hand into a fist in her pocket.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Do you now?”

“June-“

“Dont ‘June’ me. I’m not a child, Fred. Not anymore.”

The muscles in Fred’s jaw tightened as he stared down at her.

“I want to see my kid.”

June let out a bitter laugh.

“You...you’re not serious right now.” From the unchanging look in his eyes, June could tell he was. “You don’t even know your own child’s sex, why in the world would I let you anywhere near us?”

“I have every right, as the father-“

“I’m not having this conversation in the diner parking lot,” June said and put up a hand to cut him off. “Your not seeing my child, ever. Goodbye.”

She turned toward her car.

“June, don’t walk away from me!”

She did.

As soon as she was safe in the car and the doors locked, June pulled out her phone. She barely looked at it as she pulled out of the parking lot, but as she glanced down, she realized that the only person she could think to call was JJ. He’d want to hear that Fred had come back. He’d want to meet her at the Chateau to keep her and Eleanor safe.

The line was ringing before June could stop herself

But JJ wasn’t talking to her. JJ wanted nothing to do with her.

After two rings, June hung up.

She considered calling John B, but she didn’t want her brother to get arrested for a real murder, which is what would happen if she told him that Fred had showed up at her workplace. She found herself calling Kie, her throat thick as she tried to calm the shaking of her hands by squeezing the wheel until her knuckles were white.

“Hey, June, whats up?”

“Fred showed up at work today.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Nope. I’m going to pick El up from the Heywards, would you mind meeting me back home? I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

June knew that Kie would have a thousand more questions that she didn’t want to answer, so she hung up and threw her phone into the passenger seat.

All the way to the Heywards, her heart pounded against her ribcage. She had nightmares about Fred coming to reclaim Eleanor, of endless custody battles, of all the dirt on her family that Fred could dig up.

Just the thought brought terrified tears to June’s eyes. Breathing became difficult, as if someone was squeezing her chest. If she lost Eleanor, June wasn’t sure what she would do. She would just die, she supposed. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to suck in breaths that just wouldn’t go down. With her arms shaking, she pulled over to the side of the road until she found a way to calm down.

June shut her eyes, placing both of her hands against her chest. She breathed heavy, shaking breaths in through her nose as she tried to slow her sobbing. She had friends in high places now. The Cameron’s would take care of her. The Carreras would too. The Heywards would do anything to help her. Everything would be okay. She just needed Eleanor in her arms. Then everything would be okay.

Pulling back onto the road, June wiped away her tears and set her sights on the Heyward household.

Mrs. Heyward asked a few questions when June pulled up five hours early to pick up Eleanor. June answered them shortly as she plucked Eleanor off the ground and held her tight to her chest. The girl was almost six months old. Half a year. She was still so small.

June tried not to cry again right there in front of Mrs. Heyward. These would be tears of relief as Eleanor cooed and babbled, knotting June’s hair inbetween her fingers.

“My dear, are you okay?” Mrs. Heyward asked.

June finally looked at her, eyes classy, and she nodded.

“It’s just been a long day. Do you mind if I take her home early?”

“Not at all.”

The two packed up Eleanor’s things and Mrs. Heyward helped June pack of all into her car.

“You know, girl, if there’s anything you need, you just have to ask.”

June buckled Eleanor into her car seat before looking back at her friend.

“I know. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

June could finally breathe as she drove back to the Chateau, knowing that Eleanor was in the back seat just behind her. Every few seconds, she would glance in the mirror, just to make sure she was still there. Eleanor babbled to herself, looking out the window as she shook a small giraffe.

Finally back home, June took no time to pull Eleanor from her car seat, abandoning everything else. She just wanted to get inside, to feel safe. Once Kie was there, maybe she would go out to retrieve it all, but all she needed now was Eleanor.

The small girl didn’t even seem to notice her mother’s frantic mood as she clicked her tongue and pulled one June’s necklace.

June was half way to the porch when the front door opened and out stepped Fred.

She let out another gasp and turned her body, shielding Eleanor from him.

“It’s a girl,” Fred said, almost teary eyed.

“Stay back,” June said.

Fred took a step toward them and June took a step back. Eleanor stopped making sound, finally seeming to realize that something was wrong.

“She’s beautiful.”

He took another step.

“I said stay back!”

Eleanor let out a quiet cry at her mother’s harsh tone. June wanted to tell her that it’d be alright, but she refused to tear her steel glare away from Fred. She was afraid he would leap if she looked away for even a second.

“I just want to talk, June, and to see our daughter.” Fred took a few more steps, but fear held June where she was.

“My daughter.”

Fred let out a heavy sigh and lowered his head.

“Why-”

“You left me,” June said, her voice low and suddenly full of tears. “I needed you and you left me.”

“You didn’t love me.”

“I was a kid!” Eleanor let out a quiet cry and June held her tighter. “You left. You left me alone.”

“And I’m back now. That should count for something.”

“You can’t reap what you didn’t sow, Fred.”

Fred’s soft, almost mournful look hardened into something fouler. He took one, two steps toward her.

“June!”

She whipped her head around just in time to see JJ running toward her. A smile started to spread across her face, but it fell quickly. She was already in one fight, she couldn’t handle another.

JJ slowed to a stop in front of her, resting one of his hands on the back of Eleanor’s head before brushing the back of his fingers against June’s cheek as if to check and make sure they were both alright.

“What are you doing here?” June asked him a low voice.

“You called.”

There was almost a ‘duh’ sound to his tone, as if she should expect nothing less from him.

“And you came?”

“I’ll always come when you call.”

“I understand,” Fred said with a bitter scoff, drawing both JJ and June’s attention back to him.

JJ stepped in front of June on instinct, standing between her and Fred.

“What?” June snapped, her scowl returning to her face.

“This is why you won’t let me back into your life? Your screwing your brother’s best friend?”

JJ tensed, his hands clenching, his jaw tightened, the muscles on his arms bulging. But he stayed where he was. June kept her eyes glued on Fred. She could smell a fight brewing. JJ would defend her, as he always did.

“Get the hell out of here, man,” JJ said. His words were strong, unafraid. June remembered when he told her how terrified of his dad he was, how he couldn’t even look him in the eye most of the time. He had told her once that it made him feel like a coward, like a scared little boy.

She hadn’t ever seen him that way. He had always been the first one to defend his friends, to defend his family. Even if it meant getting his knuckles bloody. He didn’t care about the consequences.

June saw no trace of a scared little boy now, his ocean blue eyes a calm tempest waiting to explode.

Fred didn’t even look at JJ, his own piercing gaze fixed on June and only June.

“You know, even when we were together, I always thought you were low. You were too easy. I knew you’d shag anyone that gave you the time of day, but he’s low, even for you.” Fred’s words were venom, sinking deep into her skin, paralyzing her.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” June said, but her voice shook, betraying the fear that made her stiff.

Fred laughed. He was laughing at her. Laughing because she was afraid.

“I can still help you. Get you and the baby out of this dirty house, away from your dirty friends. She can still have a good life,” Fred told her, his tone becoming soft again.

June glanced at the house behind Fred, with it’s popped out nails and it’s torn mattresses and it’s dusty bookshelves. She looked at Fred’s new shoes, his shiny rolex, his perfectly styled hair. June glanced down at Eleanor, the light of her life, her sun against the darkened sky.

“You know she’s better off with me,” Fred said. Tears sprang into June’s eyes. “You don’t want her ending up like you.”

Like a dog let off it’s leash, JJ lunged forward suddenly, letting out a cry of rage. June’s eyes widened as she cradled Eleanor’s head to her chest. She watched JJ cross the yards in a few strides, landing a solid punch against Fred’s jaw before Fred even saw him coming.

It wasn’t until JJ hit him again that June felt Fred’s spell on her fade. She turned from the fight, holding Eleanor close, and she ran.

June ran back toward the car as fast as her legs could take her. Eleanor cried as June’s feet thundered against the ground, the sounds of skin hitting skin trailing off behind her.

Once June was safe by the car, she threw open the door and set Eleanor inside the car seat. For just a second, she let herself glance back toward the fight. Fred had JJ up against the wall of the Chateau, an arm across his chest. JJ’s lip was already bleeding. They were both breathing heavily.

June buckled Eleanor into the car seat, closed the door, and slid into the front seat.

She sat there, with her hands on the wheel, breathing heavily. She should drive away, get Eleanor somewhere safe. But she looked out of her window and Fred was pounding JJ’s face in.

JJ, who had held her hand while she gave birth.

JJ, who hummed Eleanor to sleep when June was too exhausted to stand.

JJ, who remembered her birthday even when June didn’t.

JJ, who defended her honor by any means necessary.

JJ, who came to her whenever she called, no matter how mad at her he was.

June threw open the door, slamming it shut, and locked the car. She tucked the keys into her pocket and ran back toward JJ as fast as her legs could take her.

JJ never once left her when she needed him. She was not about to let him down now.

June hurled herself into Fred with as much force as she could muster, knocking him off his feet and away from JJ. She and Fred hit the ground at the same time JJ did. June rolled through the leaves, the wind knocked out of her. JJ staggered to his feet and grabbed hold of Fred, but he had recovered quickly. He gave JJ one good punch, and he toppled to the ground.

June forced herself onto her feet and stepped between Fred and JJ just as Fred swung a harsh right hook. June yelped as his fist collided with her cheek. Her head spun as she hit the ground a second time. Vision blurring, all she could see was the world tilting as Fred bent down to pick something out of the leaves.

The keys.

“No!” June reached out with her hand and grabbed hold of Fred’s ankle just as he started for the car.

Fred tripped and fell over, his forehead hitting the hard ground. He tugged on his leg in an attempt to free himself, but June dug her fingernails into his skin like claws. Even through his $900 pants, he could feel the sting of her grip. She clawed her way to a better grip on his calf. He kicked at her, hitting her shoulder, but she didn’t let go.

Another car pulled up into the Chateau front yard.

“June!” Kie jumped out of the front seat almost before the car was fully stopped.

“The keys!” June cried out. “Eleanor....the car!”

It didn’t take Kie long to figure out what was going on as June clambered over Fred. She tore the keys from his hand, ignoring his shouts of protest. She forced her aching body onto her feet and ran to meet her friend.

“What’s going on?” Kie asked, glancing back at Fred as he tried to push himself out of the dirt.

“Take Eleanor to Heyward’s,” June said, pressing the keys into her hand. “I’ll meet you there.”

“But, June-”

“Go!”

June turned toward the house and Kie ran toward the car without any more protesting as JJ managed to get to his feet and drag Fred back into the dirt.

“She’s not your daughter,” Fred said through the blood in his teeth. “She’s mine.”

“You weren’t there when June was throwing up every morning,” JJ seethed, grabbing the man’s shirt and pulling him upward. “I was.”

JJ landed a punch against his face.

“You weren’t there the day that Eleanor was born. I was.”

Another punch.

“You weren’t there on the nights that June couldn’t sleep. I was.”

Fred tried to scurry away, but JJ held him tight.

“You haven’t changed a single diaper, read her a single book, taught her a single thing. I have.”

JJ raised his fist to hit Fred again, but before he could, June stepped out through the front door.

Both he and Fred turned to look at her as she cocked her shiny new shotgun.

JJ’s lips parted in surprise as June pointed the barrel at Fred, whose eyes went wide.

“Where did you-”

“I’ve had men break into my house to try and kill my friends,” June said before JJ could finish his question. “This might have been useful then. It’s proving useful now.”

JJ let go of Fred’s bloody shirt and Fred slid his hands into the air as June slowly stepped forward, her target fixed on him.

“June-”

“You get off my property and you never come back, you hear?” June said as she took one step down the porch stairs. “I don’t want to see your face, I don’t want to hear your name.”

She stepped down the stairs until she was on solid ground. JJ backed away slowly, hands up like Fred’s were. She must have had a look in her eye because JJ looked almost...afraid of her.

“If I hear of you coming anywhere near my daughter, I will not hesitate to pull this trigger, do you hear me?” Her voice was low, but it no longer shook. Her hands were steady, her gaze fixed. She knew her aim would be true and so did Fred.

“Eleanor deserves a father,” Fred said.

June’s eyes blazed red hot and she took a few dangerous steps toward him, thundering like the clouds above and he scurried away from her.

“Don’t say her name,” June growled. A final warning. “Eleanor has me. And she has a family. A better family than you could ever provide. Now, get. The. Hell. Off. Of. My. Land.”

Fred glanced over at JJ, who must not have given him what he wanted because Fred pushed himself to his feet and scrambled off toward wherever it was he hid his car.

As soon as he was out of sight, June lay the gun on the ground and pulled out her phone. Kie was on speed dial.

“Kie?”

“June! Are you okay? Is JJ-”

“We’re fine. We’re okay. Eleanor?”

JJ walked up beside June, his face a mess of blood and dirt, but there was concern in his eyes. June looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

“She’s asleep already.” June let out a breath of relief and so, it seemed, did JJ. “I’m half way to Heyward’s. Do you want me to turn around?”

“No, no. I’m going to clean JJ up and then we’ll meet you there.”

“Okay.” Kie was silent a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay, Jue?”

June let out another heavy breath and nodded her head.

“I am. Shoot me a text when you get there.”

“Will do. I love you.”

“Love you too, Babes.”

June hung up the phone and shoved it back into her pocket. She felt the far too familiar sting of tears and pressed her hands against her nose to block them out. She had spent too much of today crying already. She didn’t even know what she should be crying about.

JJ put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. June closed her eyes, almost unable to see the mess that was his face.

“Come here,” he said, his voice soft and quiet as he pulled her in for a hug.

JJ’s hugs were usually the bone-crushing kind. He had a tendency to wrap his arms around someone’s waist and squeeze them until there was no more breath left in their lungs. June was used to that kind of hug. But this was gentle. He put his arms around her neck, folding her into him. June kept her eyes closed, kept her hands pressed to her nose, but she rested her forehead against his chest. And they just stood there. For a few moments, they just stood.

Until June got to comfortable with the smell of his cologne and the way he smelled like the salt waves and the sandy beaches. Until she remembered that the last time they spoke, they were screaming at each other.

She pulled herself out of his embrace and felt a sudden chill run up her spine, as if all the warmth had just been drained from her body.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, not looking at JJ as she turned to walk into the Chateau.

She knelt in front of him as he sat on the edge of his bed, dabbing a wet towel against his knuckles. The air was so thick from all the things they never talked about, they could have cut it with a knife. Both of them knew that the last time they were in this room was the last time that they had spoken, that JJ had been trying to tell June how he felt and she had run away from him. They both knew it, they were both thinking it, but they never said anything.

“I think you’re all patched up,” June said finally, the first words spoken since they at down. She stood and smiled at him as best as she could.

“Your turn,” he said.

“What?”

“You’ve got a pretty nice shiner there, Jue.”

“I think I can take care of a shiner, J,” she told him, an easy, teasing tone on her voice.

But JJ didn’t seem to be joking.

“Let me take care of you for once.”

Her playful smile fell.

“You’ve always taken care of me,” she said.

JJ lifted his hand toward hers. He hesitated for a moment, recoiling his fingers, before stretching them out again and taking her hand. June stiffened, but JJ finally relaxed. He stood and silently maneuvered her to the side of the bed where he had just been sitting.

She sat down, breath caught in her throat, heart beating out of control. JJ knelt onto the ground, just as she had been doing and picked up the cream that she had just been lathering his skin with. To get closer to her, he pushed her knees apart just a little, and settled between her legs. June’s throat swelled even tighter, painfully aware of how close to her he was sitting. He pressed gentle, calloused fingers to her cheek, where the skin had split and a bruise was starting to form.

June winced and he froze, his beautiful blue eyes meeting hers.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, words quiet.

“Never.”

JJ’s eyes dropped from her eyes to her lips before coming back up. June couldn’t help but do the same. He let his hand lower from her face to rest against her thigh. He was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame and he didn’t care how badly he’d be burned for it.

June couldn’t help it either. She let her legs spread just enough so he could lean in closer, but she was almost unaware that she was doing it.

“JJ,” she breathed.

It was supposed to be a warning, her telling him one last time that this was a mistake. But it came out like begging. She heard in her own voice how desperate she was for his lips against hers, for his heart in her hands.

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his. She had always imagined his lips would feel scratchy and dry from all the time spent in the salt and the sun. But they were soft. Chapped, but soft.

She could feel him hesitate and she wondered if she should pull away, but then he leaned into her even further, even harder, knocking her almost off balance and back into the bad. June lifted her hands to her face to keep herself steady, to keep his lips against hers. JJ’s hands were on her hips, pulling her in closer.

He pounded against her senses like the waves against the shore. He was everywhere. She could taste sea on his tongue. She could smell the sand in his hair. She could hear the raggedness of his breath. She could feel his skin beneath her nails, his hands clawing at her hips. And even with her eyes closed, she could see the man he was kneeling in front of her.

But it was over all too soon.

JJ pulled away, turning his face to the side. June’s heart dropped into her stomach. She struggled for breath as she watched him. She closed her parted lips, bringing her hand up to her face for just a moment.

“I-I’m sorry.” June stood and stepped away from him, his hands falling away from her. “I shouldn’t have....I-I’m sorry.”

She ran a hand through her hair, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment and shame. She’d really done it this time. She’d completely ruined her relationship with one of the people she loved the most.

June wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She turned toward the door, then back to JJ, wondering if she should grab the cream that was left abandoned beside him, then decided against it and turned back toward the door.

“It’s not you,” he said, still not looking at her.

June froze. She glanced at him, but his gaze was fixed on the ground as he sat back.

“I mean, it is you,” he said again and finally looked at her.

It was like taking a thousand daggers to the heart. She would have rathered Fred punch her in the face a hundred more times then see the look in his eyes as he said those words.

“JJ, I-”

“Because I know that’s not what you want.” JJ pushed himself to his feet, wiping his palms against his jeans. He kept himself where he was, a good few feet away from her. “Maybe it’s something I want, but I know you don’t and I don’t want you to feel like you have to anything you don’t want to.”

June breathed in deeply through her nose, finally beginning to understand.

“Maybe...maybe it is what I want.”

JJ gave his head a slight shake.

“Don’t say something you don’t mean,” he said.

“I-” She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “There were so many times I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn’t.”

“Tell me what, June?”

From the way he spoke, he already knew what she was going to say.

“I’m just so scared of losing you.”

“Tell me what?”

“It feels like everyone that I...everyone that I love is taken from me. El was almost taken from me today and I-”

She stopped, letting her eyes find JJ’s. He stood there, his body on edge. As if waiting for her to say one thing, just one thing. She just had to have to courage to say it.

“I love you, JJ,” she said. “Of course I love you.”

He took no time crossing the room and closing the distance between them. He put her face in his hands and dipped his head down to capture her lips in his once again. She put her hand over his, rolling forward onto her toes so she could reach him better.

His kisses trailed from her lips across her cheek and to her jaw, lifting her chin ever so gently to nip at the skin of her neck.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, sealing it with a kiss.

June couldn’t help but smile, especially as he returned his lips to hers.

He knotted his hands in her hair, needing to be consumed by every piece of her. June pulled him closer by his shirt until there was nothing but atoms between them.

And nothing would separate them again.

~~~

By the time they got the Heyward’s, everyone else had arrived. Kie filled them in on what she knew and, little as it was, it was enough to keep everyone satisfied. They didn’t ask June questions as she walked through the door, an especially cheery JJ on her heels. John B stood from his chair and wrapped her in a tight hug, holding her for a few seconds. She in turn wrapped her arms around his waist, more than happy to hold her baby brother for a few moments.

“I swear I’ll kill him,” John B whispered to June as JJ sat around with the others to begin recounting the story.

“Fred or JJ?” June teased.

“Depends.”

John B kept his arm around her shoulders even as she pulled away from the hug to find her daughter. Eleanor was sleeping peacefully in Sarah’s arms, who rocked back and forth and hummed a quiet song.

“Do you want her?” Sarah asked quietly.

“You hold her,” June said, settling in beside Sarah. “I can admire from afar.”

She looked over at JJ, who was half way through his dramatic rendition of him beating Fred’s ass. Pope laughed, Kie scolded, Mrs. Heyward tried not to smile, Mr. Heyward scowled. Sarah kept cooing at baby Eleanor, who didn’t appear disturbed by the commotion going on around her. June tucked her finger into Eleanor’s blanket, feeling her tiny hands grab hold. John B, who sat on the side of the couch, leaned down and pressed a kiss against June’s head.

“Love you, Junebird,” he whispered.

“Love you too, Bird,” she replied.

They say it takes a village to raise a baby. Whoever they are, they might be right. But June didn’t have a large village, an overly wealthy village, or a village of perfect, spotless people. She had just a little village. It was a little broken and a little messed up, but it was her village.

And she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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haileygarciasunshine · 4 years ago

Text

One Night

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1,400

Warning: Mentions of drinking

Summary: One night is all it takes for things to change.

Bill Weasley Masterlist

Found this edit on pinterest, and I love it😭🥺🥰

Part Two?? Let me know your thoughts!

“What do you mean, you’re not coming?” You practically shriek through the phone. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you listened to your friend talk through the phone.

“I know but-” You huffed in annoyance. “Fine.”

Hanging up your phone, you rubbed your temples, in attempt of relieving some of the built up pressure in your head. Leaning on the table, you swirled your drink around in the glass, before downing the rest of it.

Sighing, you stood up from the table you were previously occupied. The music playing through the speakers, suddenly seemed louder, while the small group of people quickly turned to a large gathering of people.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you made your way to the bar. Flagging down the bartender, you paid for your bill.

“What’s a pretty little thing, like you doing all alone here?” A husky voice questioned you.

The hair on the back of your neck, stood up, while ice began coursing through your veins. Gulping, you turned toward the voice.

“That’s none of your business.” You spat, turning back to the bar, patiently awaiting your turn.

The man chuckled in a dark tone. “Feisty.” He inhaled. “I like it.”

With the change in season, you had dressed up for a fall night in the town. Grabbing the edge of your black cardigan, you tugged the edge, wrapping it around you, attempting to comfort yourself.

You thought the next best thing, was to ignore him. However, the man who was larger than you had other plans.

“Don’t be like that, baby.” He snarled, grabbing your elbow pulling you closer towards him.

“Bill!” Charlie, yelled to his other brother, once he recognized his familiar face walk through the threshold of the bar.

Chuckling, Bill greeted his younger brother with a quick hug and pat on the back.

“How’s Egypt been?”

Once both men had taken a seat, after getting their drinks, their conversation was filled with small talk.

A silence fell between them. Clearing his throat, Bill was the first to speak. “Why are we here Charlie?”

Scoffing Charlie responded. “What? Can’t I just spend quality time with my brother?”

Bill shot his brother a quizzical look, before he hummed in response.

“Okay, okay.” Charlie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I might’ve..set us up on a double date.” He rushed the last bit out.

“What!” Bill exclaimed. “Charlie! Why would you do that?”

“Well, you look like you’ve been pretty lonely, the last few months.” Charlie attempted to defend himself, while holding his arms up in surrender.

Bill brought both of his hands up to his face, as he began rubbing his face in frustration. “Charlie..” He groaned. “I’m not going on a double date.”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t cha think Bill?” Charlie quipped.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” Bill questioned, gazing at you from across the bar.

Turning to follow Bill’s stare, Charlie raised his eyebrows slightly in confusion. It wasn’t a secret that you and Bill were close, you would go as far as to consider yourselves best friends. Everyone in the family knew how close you both were. You practically lived at their house during the holidays, not that Molly or Arthur or any of the children really minded. They considered you family, extending you an invitation to come over whenever you had time.

“I’m going to go say, hi.” Bill stated.

He was already halfway across the bar, by the time that Charlie glanced up to see what his brother was saying.

---

“Let me go.” You snarled, struggling to get free from the creep. “I have a boyfriend.”

Smirking, the man glanced around quickly, before he responded. “Oh yeah? And where is he?”

“Turn around.” A familiar husky voice stated.

The overwhelming feeling of comfort washed over you. Quickly, you glanced around the mans arm to see a red hair that you knew all too well.

“Bill!” You exclaimed, breaking free from the unwarranted grip rushing into Bill’s side. His firm arm wrapped around your waist, in a protective manner.

“Oh yeah?” The man snarled. “Prove it.”

“We don’t have to prove anything to you.” You snapped.

“If you can’t prove it, then she’s free reign.” He smirked, taking a predatory step towards you.

Bill growled toward the man. Turning towards you, Bill gave you an apologetic gaze, before his hands made their way to your jaw. Your hands quickly wrapping around his neck. Placing his lips on yours, he gave you a gentle chaste kiss.

“Whatever dude.” The man scoffed before stumbling away.

Once he left, Bill didn’t take his hands away from your jaw, instead he placed his forehead against yours, causing your breath to mix together.

“Thank you.” You whispered, not breaking eye contact. “When did you get back?What’re you doing here?”

“I just got back, a few hours ago.” He offered you a toothy grin, before chuckling. “Charlie wanted me to go on a double date with him.” He groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

Giggling, you brought your hand up to the back of his head, knotting your fingers into his hair.

“Let’s get out of here.” You muttered in a soft tone.

Not waiting for his response, you grabbed his hand before leading him towards the exit. While on your way out, you quickly stopped at Charlies table.

“Charlie!” You exclaimed full of excitement. You threw your arms around his shoulder’s pulling him in for a hug. “It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too.” Charlie grinned.

Giggling, you nodded to the two other girls, that were sitting at his table.

Bill was beginning to get inpatient. His firm hands, landed on your hips, while his chest pressed into your back. His hot breath, lingering around the shell of your ear. Growing needy, Bill placed his lips to your ear, placing gentle kisses in his wake. Taking your earlobe between his teeth, he nibbled on your ear. Before gently blowing into your ear.

“We’ve got to go.” You muttered, grabbing Bills hand rushing out of the bar.

Passing through the bar threshold, you twirled around, catching Bill by surprise. Gently, you pushed him into the brick wall behind him.

Your sudden actions catching him by surprise, causing him to gaze at you with widened eyes.

Reaching up to his face, you gently traced over the werewolf scars along his face.

The dim lighting on the outside of the bar, allowed you to see a light pink dance along Bill’s cheeks.

“You’re so handsome.” You whispered, gazing into his blue eyes.

“Even with the scars?” He questioned before he frowned glancing down at his feet.

Grabbing his chin, you forced him to look at you.

“Even more so, with the scars.” You offered him a soft smile. “I like the earring by the way.” You teased.

Chuckling Bill smiled down at you.

Knotting one of your hands in his hair, you wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Stepping closer to him, your chests pressed together, before you stood on your tiptoes.

Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips to Bills. Butterflies, began to erupt in your stomach, before heat rose from your stomach to your chest. Bills hands began to roam your body. One of his hands on your hips, grabbed your ass, while the other stayed on your hip.

Bill nipped at your bottom lip, enticing a gasp from you. Quickly, he flipped you around so that your back was pressed into the bricks. A soft moan fell from your lips, causing him to smirk against your lips. His tongue traced your bottom lip asking for entrance, that you eagerly allowed. Once his tongue was in your mouth, you allowed him to trace every nook and cranny of your mouth, before running your tongue against his.

Pulling away, Bill rested his forehead against yours, while you both were panting.

“We should...We should go.” He muttered.

“Let’s go to my place.” You grinned, grabbing his hand you began leading him towards the direction of your car. Lifting his arm, he wrapped it around your shoulder. Lacing your hands together, they dangled together, while you wrapped your other arm around his waist, keeping him close while you walked away together. Bill continued placing gentle kisses, to the top of your head, as you walked into the night together.

#billweasley #billweasleyimagine #billweasleyimagines #harrypotter #harrypotterimagines #billweasleyxreader #bill weasley x reader #imagines #fanfic #fanfics #fandoms #fandom

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mermaidssonshipss · 4 years ago

Text

exile

warnings: angst, a few mentions of drug use and alcohol, anxiety.

pairings: rudy pankow x reader

word count: 3,444

loosely based around “exile” by taylor swift

For as long as you could remember, Rudy had been your best friend. The two of you were inseparable, your small town in Alaska keeping you sheltered and locked away from anything that could possibly disturb your friendship. Until Rudy decided to move to LA. You had been happy for him of course, wanting nothing but for him to be happy, but your heart had shattered the day he left, knowing you were going to lose your best friend. For the first few months, the communication was constant. Your phone was glued to your hand at all times, and text messages passed between you two 24/7, the nights ending with FaceTimes. Soon though, the texts slowed, and the FaceTimes became less frequent. Eventually, there were no texts, and no FaceTimes. He stopped reaching out to you, and you stopped reaching out to him. A month before he was supposed to visit for the first time since he’d left, you had had a full blown panic attack and booked a random flight to stay with a friend who was in NYC for the time he was back in Alaska. It had been two years since he’d left, and a year since you’d spoken. You had gotten a text from his mom the day before he came back, asking you to come to his welcome home get-together. The text went ignored, which you felt bad about as she had done nothing to you, but you knew she’d invite your parents and they’d tell her you were in New York.

Another year had passed, and Outer Banks had been released a few months ago. You saw Rudy’s face everywhere, and every time you wanted to scream. He looked good, better than he did when he left, and he looked happy. He had visited a few more times, and each time you managed to get yourself out of town for the time being. Not once had he reached out to you, asking you how you were doing or where you were, so you figured he didn’t care, what was the point of being there?

You were currently out on your dads docked boat, lying down on the hood as a joint dangled between your lips, the smoke swirling through your nostrils as you inhaled and blew it out. In 2 months, you were going to be moving to California. A job opportunity had presented itself, and you couldn’t pass it up. The pay was more than you could’ve ever even dreamed of, and they were paying for your apartment the first year while you got settled. It was perfect, and you figured California was big enough, you wouldn’t run into Rudy. The last few months you had spent your nights on your dads boat in the same spot, smoking until you couldn’t feel anything, until you were numb. It had been 3 fucking years and you were still pissed about Rudy leaving you, and you had been filling the void with drugs, alcohol, and meaningless sex the past 2 years. Before, you always had Rudy to stop you from drinking too much, or smoking too much weed, and he always interfered when you tried to take a random guy home. Now that he wasn’t here, you didn’t care. You let out a loud groan before sitting up and tossing the joint into the water, stumbling slightly as you stood up and made your way off the boat, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jean short shorts. As you stepped onto the dock, you remembered you had left your shirt on the boat, but seeing as you were covered by a red bikini top, you decided you were too lazy to climb back up and find the shirt.

It was around 12pm when you made your way into your friend Jills home, the house full to the brim with people you had grown up with. You sent smiles there way as they called your name, beckoning you to their groups, but you kept walking, trying to find Jill.

Eventually, you spotted the faux blonde leaning against a beer pong table, a red solo cup in her hand as she cheered her boyfriend on. When she saw you, her eyes grew wide and she raced over to you.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” She asked, her words slightly slurred as she stumbled into you slightly.

“You invited me, dipshit.” You responded dryly, reaching your hands out and steadying her.

“I knooooooow,” she scoffed, her hand landing on your head, just resting there, “But you’re always out of town whenever Rudy comes into town. I didn’t expect you to be here,” she was patting your head now, playing with strands of your hair in the process.

“Rudy isn’t in town,” you were confused as you batted her hand away, and she let out a loud laugh.

“Yes he is, silly. He’s over there,” she pointed behind you and you turned around, expecting to see someone who resembled Rudy that Jill had drunkly mistaken for him, but instead you saw him. He was leaning against the wall opposite you, a red hat like the one he wore on Outer Banks resting on top of his blonde hair, and he was watching you.

“Fuck,” you snapped, turning around quickly as you stared at Jill like a deer caught in headlights.

“I think I was supposed to tell you...oops...” she giggled, waving over at Rudy and you slapped her hands down, panic rising in your throat as you shook your head at the wasted girl in front of you. You heard his voice behind you, and you closed your eyes tightly, your fists tightening before you relaxed the muscles and turned around to face him. He was stood in front of you, his blue eyes trained on your face.

“Hi. Bye.” You chirped quickly, pushing around Jill as your feet raced through the packed home.

As your dirty converse hit the street, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, tears beginning to spill down your freckled cheeks. You pushed yourself to keep walking, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to breathe. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him? He had promised you when he left that you would remain best friends, but after a year of being gone, he had forgotten about you. He had let your friendship go. You meant nothing to him clearly, and he had meant everything to you.

You forced your key into the lock of your apartment door, slamming the door shut as you leaned against it, your body sliding down to the floor. Your breaths were shallow, air forcing it’s way out of your lungs in quick bursts as you struggled to breathe it in. The walls around you felt like they were closing in around you. Your vision was blurry, tears falling freely as they stained your cheeks with your mascara. The panic attacks had begun a year into Rudy leaving, when he had stopped replying. Thoughts swirled through your mind 24/7, screaming at you that you weren’t enough. That you never made him happy, and he had only been friends with you because he felt bad for you. It had been a couple months since your last attack, but seeing Rudy tonight brought everything back. You felt worthless.

***

You felt like shit. You had fallen asleep on the hardwood floor by your front door, your eyes crusting over from the mix of your tears and mascara. It had been a feat to push yourself off of the floor and stumble into your bathroom, stripping your clothes off and forcing your aching figure into the shower.

Once you had dried off, throwing your hair up into a messy bun, you slipped on a simple white sundress that hung a few inches above your knees. You were pacing your living room currently, your phone in your hand as you scrolled through social media, seeing everyone that was in town posting photos with Rudy from the party last night, congratulating him on Outer Banks. You had texted Jill, asking her how long he was going to be in town for, but she had said she had no idea. The thought of once again booking a last minute flight and getting the hell out of here crossed your mind, but as you looked up flights that ran thousands of dollars, you decided against it, just settling for staying locked up in your apartment for the foreseeable future.

The TV was on and you were looking at it, but you weren’t paying attention to what was on the screen as you sat on your couch. Your eyes lingered on the glass of whiskey in front of you on your coffee table that had been left over from the day before, but just as you went to grab it, your phone dinged.

Unknown number: i think we need to talk.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you scanned the text, but before you could respond asking who it was, another text came through.

Unknown number: meet me at the spot. you know the one. in an hour.

Your stomach flipped as you read the words, realizing that somehow, Rudy had gotten your number. About 6 months ago, you had changed your number, an ex boyfriend of yours had been blowing up your phone for weeks, and you were tried of just deleting the texts.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, tossing your phone across the couch as you let out a distressed sigh, throwing your body back onto the couch.

Talking to Rudy was the last thing you wanted to do, but you also wanted answers, you just weren’t sure you were ready to hear what he had to say. You weren’t ready to actually hear him say you weren’t good enough, that you had meant nothing.

***

The leaves that had fallen from the tall trees surrounding you crunched under your old, white converse, your eyes trained forward as you pushed through the branches. Soon, you found the clearing Rudy had been talking about, and you were met with his back facing you as he stood near the edge, looking out at the trees across the lake. His head snapped towards you when he heard your feet come to a stop at a distance, a branch snapping having given your presence away.

You’d both had your first kiss here, right at the edge, when you were 12 and he was 13. It had become a joke between you two that one day you’d both just get tired of it and kiss each other, getting the first kiss nightmares out of the way, until one day, Rudy had actually done it. He had been looking at you as you collected branches, trying to start a small fire in the clearing to warm you up, and you had snapped at him to get off his ass and actually help. Instead of helping, he had stormed over to you and kissed you. Nothing came of the kiss, you two remained best friends, but you had always held it close to your heart. Through the years, you two had your own relationships, but for some reason they always ended for one reason or another, and you two would end up back at this clearing, stolen alcohol and weed tainting your breath, and secret kisses were always shared.

“You look good,” his voice was deeper than you remembered it being when he spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I feel like shit,” you replied, venom lacing your words as you finally met his gaze. He looked sad as he watched you, his arms crossed across his chest as he bit at his bottom lip nervously.

“How have things been?” he was desperately trying to grasp onto a conversation, but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t know. My best friend stopped talking to me 2 years ago and threw me away like I was nothing when he promised he wouldn’t, but ya know. Other than that, just peachy,” your cheeks were burning red as you spoke, your fists clenching at your sides, and his eyes widened.

“What?” He looked shocked, and all you could do was let out a scoff as you rolled your eyes, “I didn’t fucking throw you away,” he was angry now as he took a step closer to you, and you were taken aback for a moment. You’d only seen Rudy angry a few times in your friendship, and it had never been directed at you, “You... you told me you didn’t want anything to do with me!” He was shouting at you now, the veins in his neck popping out against his skin.

“Oh that’s fucking bullshit,” your tone matched his and you let out an incredulous laugh before continuing, “You stopped texting me! You stopped FaceTiming me! It just.. stopped!”

“BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO!” He was standing in your face now, his face red as he screamed at the top of his lungs, his words echoing around the two of you, “I still have the fucking text,” he rushed, reaching into his pocket as he grabbed his phone. You could see him scrolling through his messages before he came upon your name, and he showed you the screen. You could see a text bubble from you, and multiple text bubbles under it that Rudy had sent, but each of them had the red warning sign, signaling they hadn’t gone through.

Y/N: Don’t ever text me again, and I mean it. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be friends anymore, I never really wanted to be friends, I just felt like I had to stay.

As you read the words, you felt like you were going to throw up. You had never sent the text, nor had you ever blocked Rudy’s number, meaning there was no reason for his texts to not have gone through.

“I... Rudy I didn’t send that...” you were breathless as you spoke, tears welling up in your eyes as you continued to stare at the texts in front of you. Rudy had sent multiple texts back, begging you to explain what happened, begging you to stay.

And that’s when it hit you.

Connor. Your ex boyfriend, the reason you had to change your phone number. You couldn’t breathe as you looked at Rudy, his face blurry as you looked at him through tears. Connor had made it clear from the beginning he didn’t like Rudy, but you had always assured him there was nothing to worry about. Rudy was in California, for gods sake, but clearly that wasn’t enough.

Rudy was silent as he watched you, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know if he should believe you, or if you were lying to him.

You frantically pulled your phone from the pocket of your dress, opening it and looking up Rudys name in your contacts. You clicked on it, and your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled down and confirmed his number wasn’t blocked. And then you saw the actual number that was entered, and your stomach felt like it had been twisted and ripped out. The first 3 numbers of his number had been changed to a simple 555, meaning when you texted it, it wouldn’t go through, looking as if you had been blocked. You opened the settings on your phone, scrolling down to your blocked list, and there, on the very bottom, right above your ex’s number, was Rudy’s real number. Your eyes met Rudy’s, his already on you, and you could see a few tears had begun collecting on his cheek.

“Rudy... he... Connor... he sent that text. He changed your number and blocked your real number and I didn’t... I didn’t know I never thought to check I thought you had me blocked,” you lifted your phone, showing him all your own undelivered messages as you rushed the words out of your mouth.

“Then why were you never here when I came home? The first time I came back, your house was the first place I went. But you had left. And then the next time, you were gone, and after that,” he looked hurt as he shook his head, stepping back from you and turning back to the view over the cliff.

“I was hurt, Rudy. I thought.. I thought you had brushed me off. I thought you had finally realized I wasn’t good enough, that you didn’t want me around, and it fucking hurt. I didn’t want to see you when you came back and be reminded that I wasn’t enough for you to stay,” your voice was quite as you spoke, only loud enough for Rudy to hear, and as the wind carried your words through the air, Rudy was now the one who felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You were my best friend, y/n,” he was facing you again, his hand reaching out and resting on your cheek, wiping a tear that had fallen, “God... I was in love with you. So fucking in love with you. What do you mean not good enough? How could you ever think that? I asked you to move to California and stay with me, but you sent that text in response. I missed you so fucking much it hurt. I knew you had a boyfriend, but he was a total tool, I could tell that just by looking at his instagram, and I could tell you weren’t really into him, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you. And then I got that text and I thought I had fucked everything up,” he was freely crying now, and your hands were gripping onto his shirt tightly as you leaned your cheek into his hand.

“Fuck Rudy, I’m so sorry. I was with Connor that night and he must have seen it when I went to the bathroom,” you were struggling to speak, hiccuping here and there as you cried, and Rudy’s other arm had wrapped around your waist, “I would’ve done it. I would’ve moved to California the next day. You’re right. I wasn’t that into him. He was just a distraction from how much I missed you. How I was so in love with you and nobody else could ever replace you.”

Rudy rested his forehead against yours, both of you just looking at one another. For two years, both of you had been under the impression that you had been exiled from the others life. Unwanted. Broken. But as you looked into Rudy’s eyes, his arm wrapped around you and holding onto you for dear life, the broken pieces slowly began to click back together.

***

“Dude, what is in this box?” the heavy box in Rudy’s hand was dropped onto the ground, loudly banging against the hardwood floor beneath him as he wiped the sweat that had collected from his forehead.

“I don’t know, but don’t just... drop my stuff,” you glared, walking past him with a box of your own in your hold, placing it down gently on Rudy’s kitchen table.

3 months. It had been 3 months since the two of you met in the forest, both of you finally realizing what had actually happened. At first, things were tough. Both of you were dealing with your own issues due to what happened, and unfortunately those feelings don’t just go away, even if what had caused them wasn’t what they had thought. But now, you two were solid as a rock. When you told him you were moving to California for a job opportunity, he had almost screamed in excitement, immediately telling you to move into his place. After some research regarding where your work was located and finding out it was only 10 minutes away from Rudy’s place, you agreed.

You were going through the box you’d just placed down when Rudy came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You tilted your head, placing a soft kiss on the side of his forehead before returning your attention back to the contents in front of you. He sighed, squeezing you tightly as he dragged you away from the table slightly, signaling he wanted attention.

“I need to unpaaaack,” you whined, letting out a laugh as he turned your body to face him, a pout on his plump lips, his arms still latched around you.

“Unpack later, kiss me now,” he smiled, placing his lips on top of yours, and you melted into his embrace.

You could unpack later.

#rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow imagine #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years ago

Text

the plug

college au jj x reader

word count: 3025

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of jj’s dad, four year age gap (20yo jj and 24yo reader)

synopsis: you’re the pogues’ alcohol plug and jj’s favorite person

a/n: this was an anonymous request, age gaps are kinda sensitive, nothing here happens until jj is almost 21 but please be careful out there folks; also i got kinda carried away

You grew up in the Outer Banks, spent most of your time surfing or playing soccer for the local school’s team. Your house was near the Heyward’s shop, and you picked up odd jobs working Kook events all throughout your high school years. When college rolled around, you started working at the Wreck with Kie.

The Pogue and Kook rivalry never particularly interested you, it seemed frivolous, and after a brief stint on the mainland, you realized the world was so much bigger out of the scope of the Outer Banks. Your refusal to participate was what originally drew Kie to you. The two of you hung out after work on Friday nights, you had access to good weed and were willing to share. Eventually she invited you to a party her friends were throwing.

Honestly, you weren’t exactly over the moon at the idea of partying with a bunch of 17-year olds, but the idea of free beer and a night on the beach seemed promising. You figured you could say hey to Kie’s friends and slip away to walk by the ocean.

Until the afternoon of the party rolled around, and you found out that they had no alcohol. Kie scrambled to explain that the guy who normally sold them beer underage had moved and someone stricter had taken his place and refused their fakes. You sighed and stood, “How much do you need me to get?”

“Wait, what?” Kie asked, taken aback.

“Beer. You want packs or a keg?”

She blinked a few times, “We normally get a keg or two.”

“Let’s go.”

You led Kie to your car and cranked it up, immediately turning up the AC as high as it could go. She plugged her phone in to play some music as you drove to the nearest liquor store to the Boneyard.

“Stay here, I’ll be back,” you told her, and she nodded, promising to sit still. The guy inside was in fact different from the guy who used to sell to you and your friends underage, so you fished out your ID. You knew you looked pretty young for your age and had to resist rolling your eyes when he stared at it intensely for a few seconds before charging you for the keg.

When it was filled, he helped you carry it to your car and the two of you set it in the back. Kie stayed still and quiet in case he tried to card her for some reason too, but you weren’t too worried. Soon enough the two of you were back on the road, heading toward your house for a quick change of clothes.

“Can I borrow something?” Kie asked, looking a little nervous.

“For sure, Kie, take what you want.”

You were only there for about 30 minutes before leaving to get the keg to the Boneyard before party time. Kie was really excited to introduce you to her friends, they’d been hearing all about the cool college girl she’d been hanging out with in her spare time, and they were really interested to see who had her so enthralled.

Pope was the first to greet you, recognizing you from when you worked with him and his dad. He nodded at you with a small smile, and you returned it. John B shook your hand with a huge grin, babbling on about how awesome it was to have someone willing to buy them alcohol again. The last of the group, JJ, was the quiet one.

You weren’t sure what he thought of you at first, it was easy to see he was hesitant to just accept anyone, but you did buy him alcohol. He offered you a fist bump and a small smile before telling you, “Really appreciate the plug.”

“No prob, new guy was pretty suspicious, sorry for your loss.”

JJ let out a loud laugh and warmed up to you instantly. From then on, he followed you around. Whether it was hanging around the Wreck while you were working and he was free, or asking to smoke with you some weekends. Kie thought your new shadow was hilarious and she would send you videos of JJ talking about how funny you were or how pretty you were. It was…endearing.

And then you graduated college and got into grad. You wanted to finally move off the island, and with the money you’d saved up from the Wreck, you finally had enough money to rent an apartment just off Chapel Hill’s campus. The Pogues came with you to help you move all your stuff, which you were grateful for.

You let them handle pizza and went to go pick up alcohol for the group as one last hurrah before they left. John B picked through the bag you brought back with a watery smile, “Gonna suck throwing parties without our favorite plug.”

“Aren’t you dating Sarah Cameron now? Get Rafe to buy your alcohol.”

“He hates us,” JJ whined, “not everyone is cool like you.”

You pointed the bottle in your hand at him, “That’s right, don’t you ever forget.”

And then that was it. You were onto the next, without the Pogues. Or, so you thought.

You’d gotten a job at a coffeehouse just off campus while working through your grad degree. It was easy and brought in a surprising amount of tips, and the atmosphere was really chill, so you loved it. Mostly you dealt with regulars, until one morning. You had your back to the door when it opened, making another coffee, and you called over your shoulder, “Be with you in a sec.”

A familiar, slightly deeper voice, answered back, “All good.”

Whirling around, you grinned widely at the boy, “JJ! Long time no see, bud.”

His eyes widened and he laughed, “Holy shit, dude, you work here?”

“Have for the last few years. What can I get you?”

JJ smiled widely, “Actually, just got hired, I’m here for training.”

You passed the customer their coffee and wished them a good day before turning back to JJ, “Okay, go wash your hands and I’ll grab your hat.”

The rest of your shift was spent goofing off with JJ, every so often interrupted by a customer, and you showed him the ropes. He picked up on it pretty quickly, only stumbling through using the register a few times.

“What brings you here?” you finally asked.

JJ took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair a few times, “Family shit. My dad was an asshole and I wanted to get out. I started picking up extra hours at the hotel, but my dad knew where I was, so I decided to just move to the mainland and start over.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “sorry to hear that. Everything okay now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, um, started taking a few classes at Chapel Hill, and Pope’s family is helping me keep rent until I get my feet under me.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“Yeah, I just, I needed to start over. And I saw the hiring sign on the door, so I stopped in a few days ago to apply.”

You nudged his shoulder gently, “If you need anything, gimme a call, yeah?”

JJ blushed and nudged yours back, “Yeah.”

Because of the small number of customers, most shifts at the coffeehouse were solo shifts except for opening and closing. You and JJ both had mostly afternoon classes which meant that the two of you were scheduled several times a week together opening and closing.

One night you had soft music playing while he was doing dishes and you were sweeping and mopping the dining area. JJ watched you dance around with the broom, small smile on his lips, and when you caught his eye, he looked away with a blush.

“J,” you called out, trying to catch his eye again.

He looked back, blush still present on his cheeks, “What?”

“You hungry?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I could eat.”

You motioned out the window, “That place has fire po-boys for cheap if you want to get one with me after.”

JJ stared at the lit-up restaurant across the street before shrugging, “Sounds good.”

Thursday closing shift dinner became a thing after that. One of you would call in your food and pick it up before going back to one of your apartments to eat and do homework. JJ had a quiet focus to him that you liked, it helped keep you calm while scrolling through mounds of research you needed for your final paper.

He had one afternoon shift a week, unbeknownst to you, and walked in for it one week to see you laying face down on one of the tables near the counter. JJ paused, glancing over at the guy he was replacing in confusion. Your coworker shrugged and clocked out without saying anything else.

You felt someone crouch down next to your table a few minutes later and he softly called your name. Opening your eyes felt like a chore since you’d had them squeezed closed for so long to block out the anxiety over your paper that for some reason wasn’t writing itself.

“Want some coffee?” he asked, as soon as he finally saw your eyes.

The thought of caffeine made you want to throw up, and you made a face before finally responding, “How about some tea.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me,” you told him tiredly.

JJ squeezed your shoulder once and walked back around the counter to start making you a drink. You woke your laptop back up to see the word count of 406 staring you straight in the face, and just as you went to put your head back down, a steaming mug of tea was placed in front of you.

“That should help,” JJ told you, smiling softly.

And shockingly, it did. It was warm, and with JJ’s steady presence, you were able to knock out over 1000 words before you had to leave for your afternoon class. He called your name just as you went to push the door open and you turned around, “What?”

“Text me if you need anything else, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Unintentionally, you let JJ worm his way back into your life. One of the classes he struggled with you’d already taken so you fished out your old notes and tutored him for the rest of the semester through it. Sometimes he’d show up at your closing shifts he wasn’t scheduled on and sit at the bar doing schoolwork and distracting you. He did at least always help close which was a huge improvement from when you worked at the Wreck and he showed up to cause problems.

One night was interrupted when the door swung open five minutes from closing. You sighed, not wanting to dirty anything you’d just cleaned, and forced a customer service smile on your face. To your surprise, Kie walked through the door, beaming widely at you.

“Long time, no see!” she called out, opening her arms for a hug.

You beamed and set the rag down on the counter, wrapping her up tightly. She squeezed around your middle hard and you sighed, “Missed you, Carrera.”

“Missed you too.”

She sat next to JJ and the three of you caught up while you and your coworker finished the closing duties. You nodded at her to leave when she held up the garbage bag to let you know she was heading out after a trip to the dumpster.

Kie stood, “Okay, we have to meet up with everyone else, none of us have seen JJ’s apartment yet.”

“Hope you cleaned, JJ,” you told him, bumping your elbow into his side with a laugh before continuing, “last time I was there it was questionable.”

“It’s clean,” JJ defended himself, “you caught me on a bad day.”

“Bad month, more like,” you retorted, laughing when he flipped you off in response.

Kie watched the two of you, amused, “Wow JJ, you’ve come a long way.”

John B and Pope stepped out of the restaurant next door, hands full of food bags, before you or JJ could respond and greeted you just as eagerly as Kie had.

“Getting the gang back together,” John B cheered, lifting two of the bags in the air.

You originally had plans to drink wine and watch the new season of Stranger Things, but the prospect of seeing some of your old friends was too enticing. JJ’s eyed you as you shifted on your feet, “You sure you guys want me butting in.”

Kie rolled her eyes, “We thought you knew we were coming in. JJ said he’d tell you.”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me, I wanted it to be a surprise!” he defended.

Pope spoke in what you think was meant to be a mockery of JJ’s voice, “Don’t bother bro, I’ll just text her and let her know.”

With a laugh, John B added, “It was just like old times whenever we needed alcohol and you’d be all ‘I’m going to visit her at work today, we’ll just swing by and get some after, I’ve got this’. The nostalgia was overwhelming, J.”

JJ scowled at his friends as the teasing continued. You’d known about his crush on you back then, tried not to encourage it because you knew you were leaving and because of the underage situation, but it was funny to hear about it from the other side.

“Okay, so we headed to JJ’s place?” you finally interrupted, saving him from the merciless teasing.

“My place,” JJ confirmed and you broke apart into two separate groups, one in JJ’s car and one in yours.

Kie rode with you and took control of the music, like always. You smiled, “Really is just like old times, huh?”

A few weeks later, one of the Thursday night shifts, JJ seemed less enthused than normal. You didn’t want to pry but you were worried about him. After a few more half answers from him, you finally stopped drying the dishes, “Maybank, what’s going on?”

“My fucking-“ he trailed off for a few seconds before shaking his head and continuing, “my dad called asking for money. Apparently, he’s broke and he owes his dealer. I just can’t, god I can’t fucking escape him.”

He wasn’t crying, but you’d never seen JJ’s jaw so tense before and your heart ached for him. You dried your hands off and pulled him into a tight hug, “Your dad is a piece of shit and you deserve better.”

“Do I?” he asked, almost hysterically, while he tried to pull away.

You didn’t let him go far, “Yes, you do. You’re a good guy who deserves to be happy and successful and far away from his dad’s reach.”

“I wish I could see it like that,” he murmured, voice breaking halfway through. JJ’s whole body shuddered a few times as he fought tears harder than he ever had before. He didn’t want to break down in front of you and look like a child.

“How about you go get dinner, I’ll go buy some alcohol, and we meet at my apartment and watch movies tonight.”

JJ’s lips quirked up into the briefest smile you’d ever seen, “Stepping back into that plug role, huh?”

“Turn 21 then,” you told him, shoving him away gently.

“Two months, and then I’ll finally be able to start repaying my alcohol debts.”

“You’re going to be buying me drinks for years, J.”

He held his pinky out, looking significantly more cheered up, “I promise.”

You linked pinkies with him before pulling him into one more hug with one last thought, “You’re going to have to stick around for a while to keep that promise.”

He cleared his throat, almost nervously, and you pulled away, confused. JJ wouldn’t look you in the eye when he spoke, “Surely you knew.”

“What?” you weren’t really prepared to have the conversation that seemed to be happening.

“That I liked you, idolized you practically. You were so cool and older and you dealt with all my shit.”

“J,” you warned, not sure if you liked where it was going.

He let out a sad laugh, “Please just be honest with me, you knew right?”

With a sigh, you pulled your hat off and clutched it in your hands, “I knew.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, hands shoved deep in his pockets. JJ looked up at the ceiling with a sharp inhale before continuing, “Fuck, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. And then I came here and started doing it again.”

And you had to stop that train of thought right there, “Woah, wait, it doesn’t bother me, JJ, you know that right? Like I do enjoy having you around.”

Eyebrows raised, JJ finally made eye contact with you, “What?”

“Well I mean,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly unsure how to continue, “I guess it was a little weird when you were in high school, but it’s not so bad now.”

“What?” he repeated, faintly this time.

You rolled your eyes, “Fucking hell, JJ, really?”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I was walking into this conversation ready to get rejected, let me be surprised.”

“I cannot deal with you, go buy the food, oh my god.”

JJ grinned at you cheekily, “Is this a date?”

You hated him. So much.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed, “Are you asking me out right now?”

“I’m about to rescind the offer if you don’t quit.”

“I can’t believe the day has finally come. Kie is going to flip her shit,” JJ told you, leading you out of the empty shop.

“God, what have I gotten myself into,” you muttered.

JJ stopped walking and looked at you with a soft smile, all traces of teasing gone, “Hey,” he got your attention, “thanks for everything, now and then.” Before you could answer, he continued, “Best plug I ever had.”

“God dammit, JJ!” you exclaimed and his laughter echoed down the empty street as the two of you walked to the po-boy place, hands swinging between you.

#jj maybank request #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx #the plug au

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