#let's be honest they would've had a party to watch the game too. get the grill going. themed drinks. the whole nine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s-brant · 3 years ago

Text

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

Summary: Hurricane Agatha approaches Kildare Island during the aftermath of the eventful Fourth of July party. JJ and Y/N are determined to continue avoiding each other after what happened at the party, but John B has other plans for them.

Warnings: Smut, strong language, angst, implied physical abuse, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, and sickeningly sweet fluff.

Word Count: 24k

A/N: Here we goooo! To celebrate the trailer dropping today, here’s part two to Devils Roll The Dice. If you haven’t read the first part, I suggest you read it and come back so this makes sense. This one has all the drama and spice, so buckle up! Thank you for the love and support on the first part. Let me know if you enjoyed this and have fun, cause I had a blast writing it.

Hurricane Agatha.

It was the first thing she heard about as soon as she woke up yesterday to the sound of her phone blaring with an obnoxious tone that reminds her of waking up too early in the morning for work or school.

Her sleepy eyes couldn't make out who was calling, so she pressed the button to answer and lifted the phone to hear her mom's voice squawking through the speaker at her about the hurricane projected to hit the island in the middle of the night tonight.

The problem is, her parents are out of town this week, leaving her all alone to prep the house and endure the storm alone. And for someone who flinches whenever she thinks she hears the sound of thunder in the sky, that is the worst it can get.

It's a fear her friends are conscious of. One time when they were out on the HMS Pogue, a quick summer storm started to drift overhead and it took all of her self control to not fall into a blind panic when thunder began to rumble above. John B was already steering them back in the direction of the Chateau but she knew it would do nothing to calm her nerves until she was back inside of the house.

The anxiety was starting to become too overwhelming when JJ sat down beside her and threw his arm over her shoulder. It was their first month of knowing one another, so the casual friendly gesture made her jump at first and turn her head to look at him, but he acted like everything was normal.

The next person to notice was John B. With JJ currently out of commission, the only person she thought to call to help her prep the house for the incoming storm was him. Since they never got hurricanes up where she used to live her whole life, she needed someone who's been through a couple to help her while her parents weren't home.

That's how she ended up here. Sweating bullets in the front yard of her house as she unloads the contents of the van with John B was not how she envisioned her Saturday night to go, but she's glad she has someone who's willing to help.

In the past five months of being with the Pogues, she's learned that it's lovely to have friends. She never used to have any before she moved, so in situations like this or when she got so drunk at the party, she never would've had anyone to be there for her. It's quiet moments of kindness and companionship like this that make her realize how much better life has been on the other side of uprooting everything to move here—self-inflicted boy drama and all.

The sandbag on her shoulder sends a growing ache through her back muscles with every step she takes to follow him up the length of unpaved dirt path up to her front door. As usual, he makes it look way easier than it is, and it almost makes her want to laugh at how different they are.

Most of her new friends are effortless, naturally picking up anything they decide to try at while she is inept by comparison. It's part of what attracted her to JJ in the first place. He may have his insecurities the same way every other individual does, but in her eyes, he has nothing to be insecure of. Even when he wipes out on a wave and appears out of the water with sand clumped in his salt-kissed strands of blonde hair, he manages to make it look cool.

"What are you smiling about?"

John B's laughter makes her look up from where she concentrated on the dirt path to see him looking back at her. He stands at the entrance to her house with the rest of the sandbags they carried up placed meticulously in front of the door to prevent water from entering the house. They did the same thing with the back door an hour ago.

Is she smiling? She hadn't even realized her expression changed from one of exhaustion and fear at the dark clouds closing in above to a grin, so her face instantly drops in guilt. After running out on JJ for the second time two days ago to go to work, any mention of him from their friends has left her drowning in shame.

She can't recall the bulk of her memories from the night of the Fourth of July party, but she fills in the gaps between those flashes of memory with what their friends told her about it.

Thanks to her overindulgence, there are holes poked in the fabric of her memory.

It jumps from her last fully sober moment of seeing JJ across the room with the kook girl to dancing clumsily with Kie to the floral scent of her makeup wipes that she can't attach a specific visual image to.

Then, she can remember waking up with a start in the middle of the night to throw up in a pot beside the bed while he held back her hair. Before John B explained it, she was quite confused after waking up about how she somehow got from being jealous over JJ flirting with another girl to waking up in the same bed as him.

She grunts as she plops the last sandbag down into place and decides to take a seat on the steps leading up to the door.

"It wasn't anything special," Y/N says and watches him come down to sit next to her, "I was just thinking about taking something so I can pass out and avoid having a panic attack over this stupid storm."

Unlike JJ, she isn't that skilled of a liar. It's obvious to anyone who knows her well when she does it based on the way her eye contact begins to drift away and her voice raises in pitch when she speaks. She's too honest with her friends to handle keeping secrets from them, which is why it's been so difficult for her with everything that has happened recently. Not only does she lie to the Pogues, she also avoids them by association in the process of trying to avoid JJ.

Regardless of how obvious her bluffing is, John B doesn't call her out on it. Instead, he focuses on a different part of what she said.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone? I know your parents are out of town till next week..." he trails off into concerned silence.

The tip of her sneaker hangs off of the edge of the bottom step and absentmindedly digs a line into the dirt as she takes in his question.

Being alone when she's prone to panicking is a recipe for disaster. Anxiety and loneliness have a relationship similar to that of a weapon and ammunition. It takes very little for her to fall down the rabbit hole of obsessive thinking and break down into a hyperventilating, fearful mess, especially when no one else is there to tug her out of those dark thoughts.

Most of the time, the people who help her with that are her parents. If they're home during one of these episodes, she'll come stumbling downstairs to them from her room for help, and they'll do everything they can to bring her down from hysterics. Her friends, on the other hand, have yet to witness her have one of those moments.

"Having people with me helps, you know? But it is what it is, I'll just try to cope the best I can and hope for the best."

He nods, and though he's a portrait of understanding, she wonders if he finds it as juvenile and stupid as she does.

Logically, she knows that this anxiety is something many people experience. She understands that it's something that is mostly out of her control but can't help but tear herself apart over it.

She thinks to herself, What kind of weirdo can't sit inside during a thunderstorm or hurricane without losing their shit? Why am I not the one in control of my own mind when this happens?

Do her friends think similar things? Do they think it's as pathetic as she does, or is she just paranoid that they pick her flaws apart as much as she does? And, of course, she wonders what JJ would think if he saw her panic like that. He may have seen her start to become anxious on the HMS Pogue, but he hasn't seen her panic panic before, not in the way that her parents have, and she wonders if he'd think less of her for it.

Right when she's about to change the topic and steer him away from a chance to think of how ridiculous she's being about the approaching hurricane, he says something that makes her look back over at him.

"Then come spend the night at the Chateau. I can distract you. We can play board games and shit."

"Really?" she asks.

The idea of anyone wanting to waste an entire night playing board games and possibly signing themselves up for having to talk her down from a panic attack makes her heart melt.

"Yeah, why not? You need a friend tonight. You know any of us would do anything for you. You're like my little sister, dude, we'd all probably hack off a limb if we thought it'd help you. Especially JJ."

John B's last second name-drop is designed specifically for where he wants this conversation to go. Underneath the need to get his friends back to normal, he does feel a little guilty for having to do this. She thinks he's only offering to let her stay with him to help her—and he is, even if there weren't a rift between her and JJ, he'd still offer—but he has a different reason.

"Right," she says softly. "Speaking of which...is he gonna be there tonight?"

With how often he escapes his house to spend a night or two in temporary safety at the Chateau, it's not an unfounded assumption. He and John B spend more time together than any of them because of this, and when she goes over to hang out, she knows that he and JJ often come as a package deal.

He tries to play it cool and not give up anything that could make her suspicious of him, looking off at the van parked in the driveway as he takes a second to collect his thoughts. It's never easy for him to deceive people he cares about, even if it's for their own good. It wasn't easy when he invited JJ to spend the night a few hours ago with the knowledge that he'd soon invite Y/N too either, but he managed.

As always, Pope is the brains behind this operation. He was the one to suggest inviting them both over to wait out Agatha together when the three of them put their heads together to come up with a solution to their oblivious friends' drama. After JJ stormed out of the house the morning after the party, they knew they had to do something about it. This was what it came to.

"Nah. I offered but he said he's staying at home until this whole thing blows over."

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

She knows JJ well enough to know that he would literally rather eat glass than be trapped in a confined space with his dad for an entire day. Perhaps it's only because it's what she wants to believe. She wants to believe that she won't have to see him again tonight after everything that happened. How can she handle having to tell him why got so drunk that night and made an ass of herself? She can't bear to tell him all of that unnecessary drama started because she was jealous.

What right does she have to feel that way? He isn't hers. They aren't together, and she thinks it's quite obvious that he doesn't want a relationship out of whatever it is they have together. It was one night. She has no right to be mad at him for flirting with other girls because of it.

"Then I'll definitely be taking you up on that offer. Thank you," she says.

The old wooden stairs make a squealing sound when she stands to make her way inside to gather her things for the night, but the feeling of a warm hand gripping her forearm stops her mid-step. Her eyes follow down the length of her arm back to where he sits, glancing at her with this knowing look in his eyes that makes her want to turn and hide.

"When are you gonna talk things out with him, Y/N?" he asks. "He misses you."

Since the party, no one has had the courage to burst her bubble of pretending not to care until now, but now that someone has, all of her bottled up emotions stir inside of her at a simple concept she hadn't considered yet.

JJ misses her.

For the first time since they began this stupid game of cat and mouse, she is confronted with how desperately she misses him back. So consumed with the task of concealing everything that happened and trying to avoid him, she hadn't acknowledged that all she ever really wants is to be with him lately.

She misses his jokes and the way he looks at her when she giggles at them. She misses his smile when they play fight on the HMS Pogue. She even misses when he dangles her over the edge of the boat as a means to end the wrestling match, making her squirm in his strong hold as he threatens to toss her overboard.

But what she misses most of all is how he never lets her fall in. It's something about the way he looks at her as he pulls her back onboard, how time itself seems to stop in the moment between when he's still holding her and when she feels her feet touch the deck again.

Then, they'll suddenly want nothing to do with each other for the next half hour.

JJ will make himself busy forgetting the way her hands felt holding onto his shoulders for dear life, burning the memory of her palm prints into his skin for the next few hours. And she'll try her hardest to forget that charming smile and the feeling of his arms around her. But it won't work, not really, and when they're both laying down to sleep at night, they'll have one thing keeping them awake.

She takes a second to internalize what he said and avoid exposing the effect it has on her to hear it before asking, "Did he tell you that?"

The sky overhead grows darker and darker by the second, but she has yet to notice it due to the topic of their conversation. With JJ involved, her attention shrinks to a tunnel leading only to him. There's no room for anything else but the audacious idea planted in the back of her mind that he might miss her as much as she misses him.

"No, he didn't," John B admits, and right when she's about to say more in response, he cuts her off, "but hear me out. I've known him since we were kids, so I can tell when things aren't right with him, and ever since your relationship with him got complicated, I picked up on some weird vibes."

Y/N doesn't give anything away with how she reacts. He can't tell if she's about to bolt like JJ did or stay to talk and open up to him. All she does is cross her arms over her chest and lean back against the railing.

"Weird in what way?"

"Weird in a way that makes me think you two have to talk it out before you ruin your friendship. I've never seen him act this way over a girl."

That doesn't surprise her. He has a reputation for chasing after any girl available to him, something the Pogues have gently teased him about, and it factors into why she doesn't want to have this dreaded conversation with him. She doesn't want to sit there and listen to him tell her that she was just another one of those girls to him.

Going for broke and being honest about what he thinks of their situation is a better strategy for trying to get her to talk to JJ than the other way around. John B can look back on what happened the morning after the party and see where they went wrong in their approach of trying to get him to talk, but she's less unpredictable and turbulent than he is. The fact that she's hearing him out is enough proof of their differences.

She sighs.

"I know we need to talk sooner or later, but it's hard, you know? I'm so embarrassed of how everything went down at the party, even though I was too fucked up to remember most of it, and I just—" There's a brief second that lapses between when she stops and when she starts again where he can almost see her working through it in her head. "I don't wanna get hurt."

John B's face falls at the mention of the party and her feelings surrounding it.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed of. You drank too much but who cares? The only person who should be embarrassed about that night is the guy that tried to take advantage of you."

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

She can remember what led up to it and the moment she saw JJ pull him away from her, but she can't remember anything about the interaction itself. It wasn't as if he did anything to her—not yet—but the thought of it alone makes her skin crawl because she's seen that before. She's been the JJ in that situation, pulling a wasted Touron away from someone who thought nobody would be looking out for other people at the party, and she knows how quickly those situations can escalate past "harmless" flirting.

The sound of JJ shouting at Tyler echoes in her mind as she reaches for any remaining memories left from the party. He said it right after he punched him, when he was starting to rush forward to follow him onto the ground and pin him there.

"If I see you near my girl again, you're fucking dead! You got that?"

She doesn't remember realizing that he called her that at the moment. She was confused and upset and all she wanted to do was stop him from getting himself in trouble, so she pulled him away from hitting Tyler again without realizing what he said. And even now, she tries to avoid acknowledging it. She reasons with herself, telling herself that he was pissed off and didn't mean it, because if he did, why hasn't he told her how he feels yet?

Y/N looks up and sees how dark the converging clouds have gotten in the time since they began working on prepping the house for the hurricane, so her next words are shakier than usual.

"I guess you're right." She pushes off of her spot against the railing. "But can we not talk about JJ tonight? I kind of wanna hang out and forget about the rest of the stuff I've got going on right now."

This makes him feel a pang of guilt inside of him for the ulterior motive he's kept hidden from her for the duration of the conversation, but he knows it's for the best. Even if her and JJ's inevitable conversation goes in the wrong direction and they don't end up mending fences, it's better that they let it out sooner than later. If they wait any longer, it'll make it worse, and he knows that they're stubborn enough to keep this childish game going for another week or so.

So, he keeps her in the dark for now and offers a kind, "Sure, that's cool with me," despite knowing how messy the night will soon become.

A smile pokes at the edges of her mouth, making the sides of her eyes crinkle, and she extends a hand to help him up from where he sits.

"Now," she says as they make their way inside the house for her to pack a bag, "are you ready to get absolutely crushed in Monopoly?"

It started to rain before they left her house, and by the time they pull into the driveway of the Chateau, it's pouring down on them with violent winds whipping droplets at their faces hard enough to hurt.

The rapid pace of her pulse beats with such an intensity, she can feel it in her head. They shouldn't have taken so much time at her place before heading over here. While she was packing, they talked and dilly-dallied the whole time, and now they pay the price for it.

If she knew that it would start this soon into the night, she probably would've hurried things along sooner, but it's too late. She's already starting to feel that tightness in her chest and each breath of air feels less satisfying with every inhale. It's not so bad that she loses complete control of herself, but it's getting there, and she can't express how badly she doesn't want to lose her shit in front of John B.

The passenger side door is slammed shut by the force of the wind behind her, the noise becoming swallowed up in the rest of the budding storm, and she stifles a sound of surprise that escapes her in reaction to it. They're lucky they made it here in the first place. Any later in the night and they probably would've had to take refuge at her place until it blew over.

She decides to focus on how the edges of her white sneakers are swallowed up by the muddy earth on her way through the front yard to distract herself. It stains them a deep brown color and simultaneously washes them clean from the rain coming down from above, which she'd probably be annoyed about if she weren't such a nervous wreck. But, because she's too busy keeping her backpack raised over her head to shield herself from the rain on her way up to the front door, it's not high up on her list of priorities.

Since both the screen door and the door behind it are unlocked, she doesn't hesitate to come bursting into the house as she usually does.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, feeling that telltale tension in her chest and shoulders, and laughs at the sight of John B running in as she kicks off her shoes. His t-shirt is speckled with rainwater, and his hair is saturated enough with it to stick to the sides of his face after he crosses the threshold into the Chateau.

The sound of her laughter makes JJ's heart stop from where he stands in the kitchen.

"There was an umbrella right on the dashboard, why didn't you take—"

Her heart might as well have stopped just as abruptly as the sentence she was in the middle of saying when she turned and saw him standing there.

Maybe they're both a tad too dramatic, but it takes a full few seconds for them to stop staring at each other in surprise. He looks like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide with surprise like he was caught doing something he shouldn't even though all he was doing was grabbing a beer from the fridge.

It's been two days since they last saw each other. For him, the last glimpse he got of her was when he peeked through the blinds to see her pedaling away on her bike to go to work, but hers was somewhat different.

The last time she saw him, he was asleep. Their legs were tangled together underneath the sheets and his face was smushed against her chest, allowing her to feel the soft puffs of his exhales on her skin every few seconds. It's a wonder that she managed to slip away unnoticed once she remembered she had work that morning. He was holding her closely, so closely that she found it hard to discern where she ended and he began in the dazed, hungover headspace she woke up in.

It's when the conversation she had with John B on the front steps of her house comes back to the forefront of her mind that she puts together what's happening right now. Now that they're here, it's far too late to leave. With how aggressively the wind and rain batter the area surrounding the house, it's obvious that they're not going anywhere.

It seems to click with them at the same time, because JJ turns to look at him only a half second after she does.

Y/N says, completely serious, "If you did what I think you did, I'm gonna kill you."

Before either of them can think of doing anything, John B shoots out from the doorway and runs past her in the direction of the hallway where his bedroom is.

"Gotta catch me first!"

They both chase him, JJ hopping over the back of the couch to run after him, but they end up coming to a screeching halt at the shut door right when they hear the lock turn and click.

Neither of them knows what they were planning to do when they caught him, cause it isn't like they'd hurt him, but they bang on the door nonetheless. The sound is drowned out by the sound of the wind and rain pounding the outside walls of the house, picking up speed, and for a second she wants to kick the door open.

She shouts, "John B! Open this door!"

The last thing she wanted tonight was to be trapped in a house with the one person she didn't want to see. Doesn't John B realize how embarrassing it is for her to be around him when she knows that he's gonna reject her? He may have said something about JJ never acting so weird over a girl before, but he's wrong. There's no way JJ actually wants her...right?

"I can't hear you, this storm's kinda loud!" he yells back at them through the locked door. "Maybe try again later!"

Neither of them wants to acknowledge the other. In fact, they don't even want to look at each other right now, so all they can do to stop themselves from acknowledging the elephant in the room is continue trying to get answers out of John B. What does he think that locking them together in the Chateau for the night will accomplish other than make them ignore their own drama and team up to plot their revenge on him?

Though he's significantly less angry than she is, JJ pulls the doorknob enough to make the door whine on its hinges and pleads with their friend, "This isn't funny, John B. Open the door."

"Not until you guys stop being immature and talk to each other."

She furrows her brows at him even though he can't see her, saying, "It's none of your business. You can't just trap us here cause you think you know what's best for us."

The sound of thunder rumbling above the house makes her flinch, hand shooting out to latch onto JJ's arm on an instinct she couldn't consciously resist. Feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palm and the fingers clutched around his wrist sends shocks of familiar electricity up her body. Touching him always makes her feel hyperaware of herself, leaving her to wonder if he can sense her pulse picking up or notice how her breathing pattern turns uneven.

With that being said, it's safe to say that the night they spent together took that sensation of electricity and hyperawareness to a height it hadn't reached before.

That time, it wasn't a brush of their hands or an arm over her shoulder, it was the epitome of physical closeness. She couldn't handle it. He was so sickeningly sweet with her, yet, at the same time, he knew all of the right times to be commanding and in control too. There were awkward moments at first, sure, but once they became comfortable with each other, it was game over.

And whenever they've touched since, she hasn't been able to get those memories off of her mind. It's less prevalent now, since she's only holding onto him out of fear, but it's still there underneath it all—the unfiltered desperation of the lust in his eyes, the low noises that escaped his parted lips, and the strong pair of hands that pinned her hips down on the mattress to give him the leverage to really give it to her at the intensity she begged for.

It's pathetically easy for her to be sucked right back into the vortex of emotions, memories, and fears that haunt her whenever they touch, but he brings her back out of it just as easily when he speaks.

"You okay?"

John B was as good as forgotten by him as soon as he felt her jolt next to him and grab onto his wrist like she was hanging from a ravine and he was the only thing preventing her from falling. It makes him feel like a fool, but even when they're ignoring each other, the urge to comfort and protect her from anything that displeases her never disappears. He'd literally fistfight Zeus if it meant there'd be less thunder to scare her.

If he weren't hiding behind a locked door to avoid their wrath, JB would probably be calling him a simp right about now.

The concern on his face is so pure and unaffected by any of the chaos that surrounds them, both physical and emotional, that it makes her stomach turn with a sick feeling. God, he really does care about her. Why does that scare her? Why doesn't she want to believe that he cares? Why is she so set on believing that he wanted nothing more than a quick fuck from her?

Her eyes turn down to see their connected hands, realizing all in one moment what she did and pulling her hand away as if she were burned.

"I—Yeah," she stops, looking up at him, then back to the closed bedroom door, "I'm fine. You know how it is, it's just the storm."

They're both left with no choice but to face the music after days of avoidance that had no good reason behind it other than the respective doubts and fears they have. Yet even now that they're standing here, unsure of what comes next, they're hesitant to say or do anything that might disrupt the illusion they've created in the week and a half since they first ruined their friendship for good.

It feels as though the tension that has been boiling between them is coming close to turning explosive and all it will take is one tremor of their self-control for it to spill over.

Every feeling they have feels so contradictory. They want to but they also don't. They almost do it, then hesitate and decide to ignore each other for days. At the party, this tug of war game was at its peak for JJ when she was telling him about her jealousy and cuddling up to him, but he couldn't do it then, not when she was drunk. And by the time he had a whole night to think it over and see her biking away, he didn't want to risk it.

She looks away from him, hoping that "out of sight, out of mind" may ring true for once, and says to John B through the door, "Whatever, have fun. I won't hold JJ back when you finally come out of there though."

He won't actually do anything to him, maybe just a non-serious fight that'll end with her walking in on them rolling around on the floor trying to wrestle each other, but she likes to fuck with him anyway. For the dick move he just pulled, she thinks he can withstand a little teasing.

Without anything else to say, Y/N turns and walks off to make herself useful elsewhere—anything to distract from the buzzing, anxious energy that surrounds her from both the hurricane and being forced to confront JJ. She tries to play it cool though she is anything but at the moment, allowing herself to grimace once her back is turned to the blonde boy still standing against the wall in the hallway.

Maybe if she keeps pushing this false sense of normalcy, it'll work. It worked when they both started pretending things never happened between them initially after they had sex, so who's to say it can't work now?

All they have to do is get through the next 12-24 hours without talking and all will be well. Right?

They tried.

They truly tried to get through the night without inciting chaos within the Chateau, but, for these two idiots, not inciting chaos is a task easier said than done. Not only was John B much more stubborn with staying in his room than either of them bargained for, he didn't even attempt to speak to them for the first five hours and they were left with nothing to do but find new ways to avoid talking to each other.

It was simple in the beginning.

She went off on her own and sat with her headphones in to drown out the sounds of the storm.

With her eyes fluttered shut to block out anything but the sound of The Cure blasting into her ears, there was no reason for her to have to worry about anything once her nerves began to settle. Since the songs drowned out any sound and all she could see was darkness behind her closed eyelids, she was able to drift away with the distraction of the music.

The thing is, after a while, she started to see pieces of him in every song she skipped to. She made it a full minute into Just Like Heaven before a supercut of her most treasured memories of him began appearing in her head. Fade Into You? Skipped as soon as the first dreamy lyric flooded in through the tangled cords of the headphones. Cloud 9? Forty seconds in. By the time Dirty Little Secret came on, she decided that her playlist was mocking her.

The headphones were out of her ears, hastily wrapped up, and stowed away in the small pocket of her overnight bag before the chorus of the song could hit. Thankfully for her, JJ wasn't looking when she ripped the headphones out and put them away in a huff, so by the time he turned to see her again, she was laying down on the couch to "nap"—meaning she laid awake for another hour and cursed John B for making her endure this.

While she was daydreaming of a John B voodoo doll, JJ was worried about her.

Yes, the topic of their relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever-the-fuck-it-is was bombarding him against his will every five seconds, but not without him coming back to his concern for her. A small sound of thunder on an otherwise perfect day was enough to make her zone out and start getting antsy that day on the boat, so he didn't want to know how bad it could get during a time like this.

He tried to play it cool, and, in all honesty, his remaining scraps of sanity lasted a lot longer than hers. Four and a half hours passed, then, as the storm began to do its worst on their town, the power flickered out and left them in complete darkness. At that point, John B was passed out in his bedroom, so he didn't care nor notice when they had to find a few candles and stumble through the dark.

Somewhere along the way, having to search through the dark house for candles to light and place around the living room led them here...he isn't quite sure how.

JJ can hardly open his eyes enough to see through the rain that pounds against him the second he runs after her through the back door. The wind is so aggressive and unrelenting, it almost sends him stumbling a few steps when he follows her blurry figure a few paces behind where she tries to flee the house in a panic.

"Get back inside!" he shouts as he picks up his speed to catch up, "Y/N!"

The part of him that isn't focused on the pure physicality of trying to see and move through the stormy weather is utterly overwhelmed with fear. Not for himself but for her. She's deathly afraid of mild storms, let alone hurricanes, and yet she ran through the back door when he tried comforting her through an anxiety attack. One would think that she wouldn't want to go directly into the thing she fears the most, but what sent her running for the hills wasn't the panic itself, it was him.

It's hard for her to think rationally in this state, but all she knows is that he was there, he was saying all the right things and holding her, and she couldn't do it. The fear began to blend to one centered around both him and the storm. The hours of useless distractions and ruminating in her thoughts built up to this point of contention, then it snapped.

Between the thunder, his voice, and the voice in the back of her head that was urging her to confess her feelings and do as John B advised them to, it became too much. Maybe it was the most idiotic split-second decision she made without any regard for logic or reason or her safety, but she bailed. For the third time, she couldn't handle the pressure and ran from him.

The only difference is that he couldn't let her leave this time.

He gasps for air against the streams of water flowing down his face, soaking his hair and making it hang in his eyes to obstruct his view more than the weather already has. It happened so fast, neither of them are wearing shoes. His feet sink into the muddy yard with every stride he takes in his frantic pursuit of her and it frustrates him no end because of how it slows him down.

There's endless dangerous possibilities with her being out here. She could be knocked over into the marsh by the wind, or stuck and hurt by a piece of debris—merely thinking about it makes him call out her name louder in the hopes that it'll wake her from her panicked trance.

After trudging through the mud all the way to the edge of the yard, he finally manages to get to her.

"What are you doing?" JJ shouts, turning her around and grabbing onto both of her arms as if one gust of wind would sweep her away if he didn't, "You're gonna get hurt!"

Stumbling backwards in the direction of the screened-in porch that surrounds the back door, he uses their difference in strength to tug her away in the direction she came out in. The rain makes it difficult to keep a firm grasp on her, and she almost slips away a couple of times when the wind picks up enough to make him too unsteady to hold on.

His arms slip around her waist for a better grasp on her the closer they come to reaching the house. The last thing he wants is to almost get her back inside and lose her at the last second. She isn't thinking rationally right now with the panic she feels taking full control of her responses. He knows firsthand how it feels to be thrown headfirst into a panic attack, he's been in her shoes before and knows better than anyone the lengths your irrational mind will go to if it means survival. And for whatever reason, her response is flight, not fight.

The door to the screen porch takes all of his effort to open against the power of the wind blowing it back against the house.

He grits his teeth as he forces it open, one arm secured around her midsection, and helps her in before he slips inside too. The second he lets go of the door, it's sent slamming back into place and rattling in the frame behind them, but he doesn't spend anymore time on it other than the few seconds it takes to lock it. As soon as it clicks with him that they're safe—most importantly, that she's safe—he whips around to face her with a cold rage flowing through his veins.

"What the fuck?"

She stands in front of him with water pouring off of her in rapid drops onto the rug, and there are no thoughts in her head outside of the ones telling her to leave. Her tears blend in with the droplets of rain so seamlessly that he wouldn't know she's crying if not for the sound of it.

In between her rapid breaths and sobs, she yells back at him, "I was scared, okay?"

"Why'd you run out into the storm if you—"

"I wasn't afraid of the storm, I was afraid of you!"

The silence that follows is louder than anything they've experienced. Nothing can rival it, not the thunder, the rain, or anything can drown it out while he stares at her in shock. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he reaches for something, anything, he can say in response to that, but there's nothing. For once, he is absolutely speechless.

Things got awkward between them in the initial aftermath of last week, but not like this. There was never an instance where he felt like there was nothing left for him to say to her to fill the uncomfortable silence that always brought forth memories of them together until now. Until she said the last thing he wanted or expected to hear.

His anger subsides as he picks over what he did in his head for anything that could've made her feel unsafe.

Before it evolved into him chasing after her through the hurricane, he noticed how terrible it had gotten for her when he lit the first candle. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her chest began to rise and fall faster with each second that passed. He could see it on her face that things were getting worse, but, now that he thinks of it, it got worse once he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.

It felt like a dream sequence in his head, so hazy and faraway now that it's over, and he was so stunned by what she was doing, he didn't run after her until a few seconds later. There was a delay in which he stood there in surprise and tried to process what the hell just happened to no avail. Though it wasn't very long, he remembers it feeling like eternity tucked into the cramped space of four seconds.

JJ's voice is softer than she's ever heard it, asking into the void of the near-darkness that encloses them, "What'd I do?" And it breaks her heart in half to hear him sound so concerned, so terrified of the idea that he did something to hurt her when all he did was try to help. "I never meant to scare you, I swear. I know how bad it can get sometimes, and I know we haven't been talking but I'd never try to hurt you if that's what you thought..."

His thoughts run rampant with the possibilities of what she was thinking at the time, and he realizes that he can't stand the idea of her thinking anything badly of him. He never cares about what people think, but, fuck, he loathes the idea of her having any ill feelings toward him.

Y/N immediately starts shaking her head, her face scrunching with the emotion and incessant tears.

"I know you'd never hurt me. I was scared because..." she stops herself mid sentence, catching it right when she was about to admit the one thing she promised herself she wouldn't.

But the need to say it doesn't go away this time. Usually, once she catches herself she comes to her senses and realizes how foolish it would've been to confess, but this time is different. This time, the urge to speak her mind and tell him everything sticks around. The words left unsaid creep up her throat, thrashing and begging to let out after months of being pushed aside.

The look in her eyes is strangely reminiscent of the way she looked at him the night they hooked up, almost yearning in its nature, and he couldn't be more confused. She's scared of him, but she's looking at him like she did when she was two seconds away from jumping his bones. And if he didn't do anything wrong, why was she afraid enough to face her worst fear in order to avoid him?

"Because what?" he asks.

That frustration from when they first stepped into the porch hasn't vanished, it only took a backseat once she said she was afraid of him, not the storm, and he can feel it stirring up again. He's tired of not having answers. He's tired of mixed signals and loneliness and unrequited love. Most of all, he's tired of her running away all the time. At this point, he questions whether or not it's worth it to expose his feelings to her and suffer the consequences.

John B was right. This isn't healthy for them, nor is it healthy for them to put their friends through this along with them, and it might be better to not be friends than to stay this way forever. At least that way they wouldn't be wishing for answers that would never come for the rest of their time together.

She decides at this moment that this has to be said before it gets worse, before she runs away again like a scared, immature child and ruins everything.

"Because," she has to shout over the lightning that cracks down on the earth down the street, something she would be trembling in fear over if she weren't so focused on him, "I've been in love with you for a couple months and it scares me more than anything, even this stupid fucking storm! And I've tried so hard to ignore it because I know you don't feel the same way, but you touched me and I just"—a soft cry escapes her—"I couldn't do it anymore."

There it is.

After months of ruminating over it and hiding everything, he knows, and her immediate feeling after she says it isn't what she thought it would be. She expected trepidation and regret, but what she finds on the other side isn't either of those, it's relief. Her dad often tells her when she's nervous about something that the anticipation is worse than the thing itself, and that has never been as true her as it is now.

However, some of the nerves return with the time that passes after she spoke in complete silence. Much like the delayed reaction he had to her running out of the house, it isn't as long as it feels to her. It's a short span of time that it takes for her words to process with him, but it feels like an eternity that he stands there with his head facing the floor in quiet contemplation.

Her heart sinks.

This means he doesn't feel the same way, doesn't it? If he were the one telling her he loved her, she likely would've leaped into his arms and said it back, but he stays where he is.

Then, after what feels like forever, she thinks she sees him start to smile and feels like she's losing her mind. It's quite dark out here, so there's only a limited amount of light to allow her to see his features, but there's no doubting it when a flash of lightning floods the porch with a split-second of harsh light.

Oh God, why is he smiling? What does it mean?

Much to her frustration, the first thing he says after her confession isn't much help in making her understand his feelings either.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Why? The voice in the back of her mind asks incredulously. Is he seriously asking why? He ignored me too. He didn't want to talk about it either, so what else was I supposed to do?

Maybe she was undeniably worse when it came to the avoidance and lack of communication, but he could've reached out to her too. They both could've. Instead, they spent day after day waiting for the other to make the move and pushed the tension further and further until it finally broke. Now she's waiting for him to hurry up and reject her so she can move on with her life.

She shivers from the wind blowing at her wet skin through the screens separating them from the outside world, crossing her arms over her body to hug herself. His eyes follow her movements down to the breaths that are slowly evening out without her realizing it. It turns out that confessing your love for the guy you've been crushing on since the day you met him is a hell of a distraction.

"I thought you wouldn't wanna hear me being all emotional and shit over a one time thing. You've literally never had an actual relationship before. And that's fine," she rambles, "I'll be okay eventually, but that's not who you are and there isn't a problem with that. I just caught feelings when I shouldn't have."

In her defense, she isn't making baseless assumptions about him, he hasn't had a relationship before. His love life hasn't ever really revolved around love itself, it was mostly comprised of random chicks he'd meet at parties or at the beach during the summertime when tourists come to visit the island. Out of all of them, he's the last one the Pogues would expect to fall in love with someone and commit to a relationship, but then...

He looks over at her with a swell of emotion within him that he's never felt before. It wasn't like he hadn't known before now. He did. He even said it out loud to himself that morning after the party, but this is when it feels the most real. Now that she's said it to him, he doesn't feel so stupid for toying with the four letter word in the back of his mind for the entirety of the past week.

In all honesty, he was the last person he would've expected to fall in love with someone this quickly too. He thought he knew himself better than this. He thought he could keep himself hidden away and not let anyone close enough to see him—the real him, faults and feelings and vulnerability included—but she proved him wrong. In walked Y/N with her pretty smile, teeny bikini bottoms, and oddly strong opinions on Ratatouille, and he stood no chance.

This sudden crescendo of emotion only continues to grow when he watches her shiver, soaked to the skin, across from him and decides that he never wants to deny himself of her again. Those feelings of inadequacy that forced him to question his relationship with her may not have gone away, not by a long shot, but they can't stop him anymore. Nothing can.

Like a light flickering to life in this swirling, stormy darkness, she hears JJ's voice asking her, "What if it is who I am?"

It was said so softly, she nearly lost it beneath the rain and wind. But it was not said with a lack of certainty, which is why she questions if she heard him correctly. He sounded so sure of himself that it feels too good to be true. After his reaction, or lack thereof, to her telling him she loved him, she accepted what was coming and this was not it.

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

"You heard me." There's a pause. "Maybe I needed to meet the right girl."

There is no way he's saying what she thinks he's saying because if he is...if he is then that means the tears and frustration have all been for nothing because he loves her back. But if he loves her, then what was with the kook girl? Was it to make her jealous, or is she misinterpreting him right now and he was flirting with that girl because he doesn't have real feelings for her?

"JJ..." she trails off, looking down and thinking to herself how thankful she is that it's too dark for him to fully see how nervous he made her, "don't do that."

Partly, he should feel offended that she'd think he'd toy with her feelings like that, but he isn't. He's too busy wondering what on earth made this poor girl so insecure to think that someone has to be joking to confess their love to her. It makes him wonder if anyone wronged her before she moved here, and he feels that switch of impulsive anger inside of him flip at the thought.

But that anger has nowhere to go, so it shifts into something different—a need to spend every waking moment of the rest of their time together proving to her that she doesn't have to be so afraid. Does it make him a hypocrite? Probably. It wasn't too long ago that he was telling the Pogues how much he didn't deserve to be with her, but he doesn't see himself the same way he sees her. In his head, he has reasons to believe he doesn't deserve her love, but how could she ever think that herself?

He steps closer to her, the movement something so natural and unconscious to him that he doesn't recognize he does it until he hears her breath hitch in the back of her throat. They were already close enough to reach out and touch each other if they wanted to, yet now it's the kind of closeness that wipes the slate of her mind clean with nothing else but the thought of him there to stay.

He starts to say, "I'm not fucking with you, dude, I'm being serious—"

"Then prove it."

Oh.

The sound of his unfinished sentence lingers on the tip of his tongue as he blinks away his surprise at what she said, though it was less of a statement and more of a challenge. What the challenge is, he isn't too sure, but he thinks there could be a couple of meanings there.

The fire in her eyes when she looked up at him is one he recognizes very well, it stars in one too many of his daydreams that center around their secret night together. She rose to the occasion without fail and matched his chaos every time, and that steely-eyed stare is reminiscent of it.

Yet, the sexual undertone isn't the only part of it to be discovered. There's a clear meaning there for him to actually prove it, to put his money where his mouth is, grow a pair, and tell her how he feels with no room for confusion. No more miscommunication, running away, or insecurity getting between them, just a clear cut confession like hers.

His hand runs through his hair to sweep it out of his eyes and keep the wet strands from dripping down his face. It helps him see her a little better too, grounding him to the moment and calming him at the dimmed sight of her expectant, wide eyed gaze.

There were a million versions of this whenever he let himself imagine admitting it. He only let himself picture it on the worst days, days like the one two days ago when he went home to his dad, ending the night by cleaning his own cuts and inspecting his own bruises in his locked bedroom. He did it to distract himself from wanting to storm out of the room and finally kill the son of a bitch after years of suffering in silence.

JJ closed his eyes, shaking with anger, and dreamed of how he'd tell her. There were versions with long speeches that were far too sappy to exist outside of the realm of his imagination. There were versions with him burying the words between friendly jokes to play down the extent of his feelings too, but he thought it worked best in its simplest form.

So he puts it as simply as it gets, lips fighting a soft smile as he crosses the space between them and rushes in to kiss her. It's charged with an accumulation of the pent up love, anger, and sexual desire that has been repressed until now, resulting in something utterly explosive.

He stops for a second to whisper, "I love you too," into her parted lips, and she finally lets herself go at the sound of those words.

Forget that they've only known each other for five months, when you know you know. This is the real deal. This is the kind of feeling that possesses every accessible inch of her heart and she'd never be open enough to admit that to anyone but him at the moment, but neither of them minds that. It's such a new, rapidly developing feeling that they want to protect it and keep it close to them for the time being.

His arms twine around her waist, tugging her the last bit forward and leaving no space between their bodies this time. The sudden movement draws a sharp gasp from the back of her throat and sends her hands out to brace themselves on his shoulders. The sound of the gasp that disappears into their connected mouths only fuels him on more. It makes him more eager with how he touches her with his hands drifting down the plane of her back, one of which playfully slipping beneath the hem of her soaked shirt in a way that makes her smile into the kiss.

He knows exactly what he does to her. He can sense it in the small reactions that would often go overlooked if it were someone less familiar with her.

It's easy to tell by the way she completely surrenders herself to him, letting out these soft little noises she doesn't even realize she's making when he takes control of the interaction and kisses her like he's starved for it. In a way, he is starving for affection and attention from her. He never knew it was something he needed so badly until he got it, and now he never wants to go without having her again.

That's why it doesn't surprise him when she starts getting antsy after a moment or two, especially after keeping away from him for days.

Her hands run down the length of his chest over the soaked t-shirt, taking a quiet victory in how his stomach flinches inward in response to her exploring touch, and she could swear his next exhale trembles as she continues lower. Never once does she break the kiss, which, by the way, has gone past the point of being passionate and straight to downright needy, but her concentration does falter. The perfectly paced rhythm of her mouth moving with his is interrupted when she touches him over the fabric of his shorts.

Those plushy soft lips go on an exploration of their own too. Leaving him with the first opportunity to catch his breath in minutes, she dips her head beneath the sharp edge of jaw in pursuit of the sweet spot she remembers reducing him to a grabby, moaning mess the last time they did this. It doesn't take her long, not if the tightening of his arms around her and the satisfied hum of a moan she feels vibrate beneath her mouth has anything to say for it.

He loses himself in it for a second or two...okay, fine, maybe ten.

The separate sensations combined spark a flame inside of him that burns so hopelessly for whatever she'll give him. His mind sends him images of them together, both real memories from their first time together and imagined fantasies he only let himself visit in his dreams, and he realizes how thinly spread his self control has become lately.

First, it's the thought of her from last week, thoughts of her gasping, writhing, and begging beneath him that makes his cock throb under the teasing contact of her hand through his shorts. But then he's brought elsewhere. Then, though he hasn't thought of it since the day after the party, he thinks of the mix of jealousy and anger he felt when he saw Tyler with her.

He remembers being sane one moment and charging across the room like a madman the next. He remembers how it felt to watch another person's hands slip under her dress, how it felt to see someone else try to kiss her the way he had, and this raw wound of a memory is all it takes to spur him into action.

It happens so quickly, she doesn't even notice what's happening until he has her scooped up in his arms with her legs around his waist. She doesn't even have the chance to voice her surprise or crack a joke at the expense of his neediness before he reconnects their paused kiss with enough force to make her teeth ache in the collision.

JJ's rings are colder than ice, digging into the flesh of her thighs as he holds them with a tight grip and blindly takes the few steps necessary to reach the back entrance of the house. His wet handprint smudges on one of the cracked-open glass doors and sends droplets of water dribbling down the surface. The teardrop of rain zig-zags at the swinging motion of the door on their way in, only changing course again when he nudges it shut behind him a little too loudly.

"Wh"—her question is cut off by him laying her down on the rug-covered floor in between the couch and coffee table—"What if John B wakes up?"

His first thought was to bring her into the spare bedroom, but then he realized that it shares a wall with John B. Then, he considered the pull out couch but realized that would be louder than the room adjacent to their friend's. His only conclusion was this.

It isn't nearly as romantic as either of them would've pictured, but they're not exactly picky either. They're so desperate for it, they'd likely do it on the porch in the middle of a hurricane if there weren't another option. And in their own weird way, they make it romantic.

There's no one else she'd rather risk rug burn for, and that is the peak of romance.

"John B sleeps like a fuckin' rock," JJ says, "and it's own his fault for trapping us here anyway."

He follows her down onto the floor without a second thought, not even looking up to see if they woke their friend with the sound of the door shutting behind them.

Hovered above her, he looks particularly captivating in the flickering candlelight. The fire burning in one of the three-wick candles they scoured the bathroom cabinets for brings out the warm hues in his blonde hair and highlights every edge of the angular face that looks down at her. The porch was far too dark for her to see him in all of his near-perfection, but this is enough for her to notice a multitude of things.

His slicked back, wet hair allows her to see his features better and the way he looks at her...it's enough to make anyone feel red in the face. How hadn't she see it before? She knows it was denial, but, somehow, she used to overlook the small hints along the way like how he looks at her like she's the only thing that makes sense to him. For the first time in a while, she allows herself to embrace the idea of being loved without looking for something to justify her fears surrounding it.

The sound of her voice brings him out of the mesmerized trance he fell under at the sight of her.

"I've missed you," she says softly, "like a lot."

The sweet admission slows him down for a second, making him stop to ignore the distracting desire that she sparked to life a moment ago and take the time to cherish this moment of rare serenity with her.

It's a wonder that she hasn't even acknowledged the storm raging on outside since they've come back in. It's all thanks to him, of course, since she's been too focused on everything happening between them, but it surprises him. It makes a sense of pride flare up in him on her behalf for being capable of forgetting something she fears so much.

But, on the other hand, it reminds him of how distraught she was right before their conversation/argument on the porch shifted from her panic to the topic of their relationship, and he can't help but hesitate a little.

"I missed you too." The hand he isn't using to support himself above her cups her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. "Are you okay though? You were just crying and I don't wanna make you—"

"Yes."

It was so said so quickly, there was zero hesitation. It's not that it doesn't surprise him that she's as eager as he is after what started to happen out on the porch, but it does make his eyes widen a little. His mouth curls with a slight grin. It's the kind that never fails to make her stomach fluttering and light with butterflies.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm okay, and I promise I'll let you know if I'm not," Y/N clarifies.

"Okay."

There's a short moment where all they do is look at each other with a complete loss for words to convey what they feel right now. It isn't as awkward as it would've been prior to tonight. Before they confessed their feelings, they wouldn't have been able to look at one another for any longer than a few seconds without needing to walk away to break the tension. Now, things have changed. They don't feel the need to conceal how much they care anymore.

They're still the same bickering duo they've always been with the added fun of being head over heels. She never used to understand how some people could let their feelings for another person drive them crazy, but it's done more than make her crazy this past week. It made her jealous, obsessive, and somehow happy too, and no one has ever made her feel so many varying emotions in her life.

Her fingertips graze the stretch of skin between where his cargo shorts sit on his hips and his shirt rides up the side of his torso, and he swallows thickly at the feeling.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

Her lilting, smooth voice is enough to soothe any nerves he could possibly have. It's as if hearing her ask that paired with the hand teasing the waistband of his shorts pulled him back to the place he'd been before when she was teasing him over his clothes.

He answers honestly, his head going fuzzy with the crushing desire that courses through him, "Not as nervous as I make you," and closes the space between them again.

The cheeky comment doesn't go unnoticed by her, not one bit. It makes her face heat up in embarrassment that is purely instinct after having to hide her feelings from her for so long. Maybe after they've been together for longer, it won't make her blush every time he acknowledges the effect he has on her out loud, but that day isn't today. Today, she goes hot in the face from a sole second of his attention, let alone this.

JJ lets his hand climb up the length of her torso as they kiss as if they have all the time in the world, as if their best friend isn't sleeping less than twenty feet away from them, until it flattens at the base of her neck. It doesn't curl around her neck and squeeze, nor does it do anything but remind her how much she loves the feeling of him touching her, the large palm of his hand simply stays draped over her throat to flaunt his ability to sway her nerves.

She's pretty sure if it were anyone else, it wouldn't work, but he's JJ for fuck's sake, and the quiet display of dominance sends an exhilarating little thrill rumbling through her. It isn't anything over the top or exaggerated like some people would do in an attempt to stake a claim over the person they love, just a simple gesture that they both know the meaning of.

She's his. After five months of friendship, two months of silent pining, and a week of sexually confused hell, she's his, and he'll never let her forget it.

The wind rattles the windows over the couch with its force and she notices that his hips grind into hers at the sudden sound. Even in the midst of such a heated moment, it's downright cute how he still makes an effort to distract her from what she fears. And, boy, does it work.

Their panting breaths in the brief seconds they allow themselves to break away from each other are the only sounds audible in the small living room. The storm drowns it all out for now, including the noises that start to leave them from the steadily building pleasure of their bodies moving together.

She can feel how hard he is through the layers that separate them with every absentminded thrust that brushes the fabric of her panties up against her clit each time. It leaves her breathless and wondering, despite already knowing, what it'll feel like when he finally slips inside of her again.

They both fantasized about it in the time they spent apart. Neither of them would dare deny it, least of all JJ. It actually became frustrating after a while because she started to become the only scenario he could conjure to get himself off when he had a rare moment of privacy. His fantasies, all stemming from the night that was so perfect, he began to question the reality of it, linger in his head.

The best part of his fantasies were the parts of them based in truth, and if he knows anything about her when she's in this state, it's that she's needy. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip in a silent urging to let her deepen the kiss, and he complies without a second to spare, willing to entertain her every whim so long as she keeps being so good for him.

He revels in her muffled squeak of a moan when he presses down on the sides of her throat at the precise moment his hips grind down to meet hers. She can't keep herself still for any longer than a half-second, always meeting his movements halfway and unknowingly doing another thing that will be the death of him.

She leads his shirt up his body without having to second guess herself, knowing that he's always on the same wavelength as her no matter what. This was how it was the last time too. Anything she did, he was already one step ahead, and tonight isn't much different. By the time her hands ball up the dripping cotton fabric, JJ is lifting the hand off of her neck to reach for the neckline of the shirt and help tug it off.

There's a sense of urgency in everything they do. Charged up with frustration and jealousy that brewed within the days they spent apart, there's nothing to stop them from reducing themselves to a pair of panting, impatient lovers too consumed in each other to care about the outside world.

The sopping wet fabric is thrown beyond her line of sight and lands on the hardwood floor with a 'thwack' that accompanies their cacophony of moans and gasps, and she whimpers at the sight of him. It may have to do with the fact that he's guiding their bodies together at a cadence and pressure perfect enough to make her legs tremble, but seeing him like this does nothing but aid the sensation.

Golden skin glistening under the candlelight, tendrils of half-dry blonde hair falling into his face with the lazy effort of his movements, and a stray raindrop that squeezed from the wet shirt dripping down his chest...she's not gonna make it out of tonight alive, is she? In her memory, she knew he was a sight to see in the midst of a heated moment, but, fuck, memories do not hold up beside the real experience of it.

Y/N is so caught up in his seemingly endless beauty, she doesn't notice him peeling her damp denim shorts off of her hips until they're halfway down her legs, and the only reason she does notice is because he must shift his position to do it. Suddenly, the budding feeling that stirred from their needy antics is plucked away and left to ache for more in the absence of him between her thighs.

Her middle and index fingers hook around the front of his necklace to pull him back down to her, but he doesn't budge at first. He's too busy trying to rid her of her shirt to care.

It was too much of a distraction while they kissed for him to resist slipping it off of her when he got the chance to. Much to his frustration when he first realized they were trapped with each other, she's braless underneath, and it's only worse now that the t-shirt is soaked to her skin and clinging to every delicate curve.

Once the clothing gives way to the canvas of her bare skin, he submits to her urgency and follows her down by the fingers hooked around his necklace without any qualms.

As soon as they resume, it's as if they never stopped to begin with, and they start to realize how seamlessly they fit together as the seconds elapse. Neither of them are actively thinking about it while he dips his hand into the front of her panties, but it is in their subconscious.

It's a revelation of sorts, an ah-ha moment where it hits them both in a sweeping realization that it was obvious from the day they met. They should've known sooner, they should've dropped their pride and admitted it as soon as the first inklings of desire began to pop up, but they didn't. Instead, it washes over them now and they let the current take them away together.

Her mouth falls open against his cheek at the feeling of his fingers swiping through the arousal that pools in her underwear for him, dragging the wetness over his fingertips and spreading it up to brush fleetingly against her clit. It's a split-second of a touch that it makes her hips lift up off the floor on their own accord to seek out more. It makes her dig her nails into the skin stretching over his taut shoulder muscles in a wordless plea for more that he doesn't indulge her in at first.

He makes her earn it from him without having to say a single word. He touches her, but he doesn't touch where she wants or ease his fingers into her to satisfy the need she feels yet. It's a blessing and a curse that he manages to turn her on to such an extent. He does it for her like nothing else can, so much so that she's noticed a distinct difference in how it feels when she's alone versus when they're together. When she's alone, it can tend to feel like active effort, but when she's with him, it's as natural as the urge to breathe.

His smirk is felt against her skin the entire time she begs for it through the revealing actions of her body—her hips jerking up toward him, her chest pressing tightly to his, and the sound of her murmuring, "Please," in a breathy tone that could stop his heart.

"Tell me what you want," JJ says, every word constrained and tight in a way that tells her he's a lot less composed than he lets on, and "accidentally" swipes his thumb over her clit again. "Talk to me, baby."

She almost forgot in their time apart how much of an effect he has on her, but this is the best reminder of that she could possibly imagine. If she could, she would find a way to bottle the feeling he gives her and keep it with her forever so that, no matter what happens between them, she'll never have the misfortune of forgetting him.

What he said simultaneously melts her heart and frustrates her to no end because he knows! He knows damn well what she wants from him and won't give it to her unless she asks for it, and she hates herself for loving it. She hates herself for enjoying the flushed-face embarrassment it brings to her cheeks to be so open with him about what she needs.

She swallows the lump in her throat and tries to focus through the clouded landscape of her head to speak to him. It's hard to concentrate when he's above her like this, touching her, calling her pet names, and looking at her like that.

With his lips worshiping the sensitive skin along her neck, she finds it hard to choke out the words, "I want you," into the humid air that has infiltrated the house.

It's not a lie. Anything regarding her wanting him or any related feeling is no longer something she can hide anymore, but they both know it isn't exactly what he wanted. No matter how it took his breath away to hear her say it, he was seeking something more specific. He was aiming to make her ask, maybe even beg, for it. They're both too impatient to wait and based on how wet his fingertips are from barely dipping into her, he can tell she's as eager as he is.

It's been thirteen days too long since the last time they allowed themselves to meet this way, and neither of them wants to let it happen again.

She was nearly trembling with the urge to go to him whenever they were together in the company of their friends, unable to think about anything except for how badly she wanted him. All the while, he appeared so unbothered, especially on the night of the party when he flirted with someone else, that she didn't even believe he felt the same way back. Thankfully for her, she couldn't have been more wrong.

He clicks his tongue and says, still teasing her with light touches that never linger in one place for too long, "That wasn't very specific."

Part of her should know that he's about to do something based on how he withdraws his head from its cherished place in the crook of her neck, but she's too caught up in the anticipation and seeing his face for the first time in a minute to think about it. How dare he look so good? She could cry in frustration, although she might actually already be tearing up a little with the rush of neediness hitting her in its full force.

Never has she felt so turned on by so little physical contact before. It usually takes longer for her to get to this point, whether it be alone or in the past with previous partners, yet all it took was being kissed, touched, and being given his undivided attention and now...She realizes she's in trouble. He has her in an emotional and sexual chokehold at this point, and she fears that no one can compare.

"I want—" her voice is snuffed out in an instant when he eases two fingers into her, "Oh!"

So that's why he pulled away from her neck to look at her.

It was worth abandoning the mark forming on her neck just to see the expression on her face shift. She gets this cute look when anything overwhelming starts to happen where her brows scrunch a little to create a soft wrinkle between them as her mouth drops open in a moan. And after ten steady minutes of doing nothing but some over the clothes action and painstaking teasing, this is as overwhelming as it gets without it crossing the line to being too much.

It never occurred to her how much larger his fingers are compared to hers until now. This type of pleasure is like an itch only someone else can scratch to her, she feels virtually nothing when she does it to herself, but when he does it, it's like an explosive being set off inside of her. Especially with the thumb that sneaks up to circle her clit without stopping to tease her again, she is putty in his hands at this point.

Every smooth stroke of his fingers into her reaches a spot she can never quite find on her own, and she can feel the cold bite of rings when they're buried into her to the knuckle.

It's a surprise every time, even when she knows to expect it. Like a delightful chill running up through her body and down her spine exactly how it's intended to. It strikes an idea in her head for when he eventually pulls them out of her, conjuring the image of her sucking them clean for him just for the sake of imagining what it'll do to him.

With that idea tucked away in the back of her mind, he's the center of her world right now. All she breathes, thinks, and feels is him. Whether it be the sight of him, or the feelings he's giving her, or even the taste of his kiss that still lingers on her tongue, it connects to one common thread.

"What were you saying?" JJ asks, and she wants to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It's virtually impossible for her to piece together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence detailing every filthy idea she has for him, but she tries. It takes another moment or two of her succumbing to the rapid incline of pleasure that he gives her, watching her in wonder through any greedy buck of her hips or gasping inhale that makes her head loll back onto the floor.

At first, what she wanted to say was that she wanted him to touch her, to do anything more than the fleeting touches he gave before. Now, she wants more than that. Now that she's drawn in closer to the eventual high that's to come, she doesn't want it to happen like this. She wants to feel closer to him than this, wants to feel him throb inside of her and fuck her with all of the urgency and desperation that has accumulated in their time apart.

That's why her hands start to grab at the belt loops of his shorts to tug him closer by them, meeting his gaze through the hazy bliss of his fingers pumping into her. It's not enough.

"Please"—she keeps pulling him closer to her, so close that there's hardly any space left to cross, and he revels in her desperation—"just fuck me already..."

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

Though this was what he wanted, what he coaxed out of her with the teasing and the pretend sense of a nonchalant attitude on his part, it hits him harder than he expected it to to hear her say it. It's not necessarily the act of begging itself either, it's the fact that she's the one doing it. She may have been jealous of the girl at the party, but she had nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest.

Before her, he never thought he'd fall for someone this way. It's not like he had a hatred for love or anything, he understood the appeal, it simply wasn't his thing.

He was perfectly content with his only form of companionship being his friends. Then, she came along and changed it. So to hear her say something like that isn't just breathtaking, it's the kind of thing that makes his heart ache for her. It hits him precisely where she wanted it to, and he has never felt as consumed with love the way he does now.

JJ can do nothing to stop himself from pouncing on her at this point, like some animalistic form of himself has worn down the restraint he used to keep himself at bay.

The loss she feels when his fingers slip away from her is an emptiness she mourns at first before she realizes what's happening. He pulls away slightly to reach down between them for the front of his shorts, and their hands clash as they both frantically try to undo them together. The rings adorning his fingers glisten when they catch the light and remind her of the thought that popped into her head when she first felt their coldness against her skin.

That idea paired with the promise of what they're trying to accomplish in their uncoordinated attempt to get the rest of their clothes off makes her want to press her thighs together. Her hands abandon the task of undoing his shorts for the sake of ridding herself of the last layer that separates her from him.

Her most embarrassing old pair of brightly colored panties, courtesy of past Y/N's questionable decision to trust her mom to buy some on her behalf, are hardly a sight to behold. They're the kind that come in a value pack from Walmart, vibrant blue with the word, "Tuesday," printed on the front of them, and she could hide her face into the rug in shame if she weren't so determined to get them off. Of all the days to wear the day of the week undies her mom accidentally got her, of course she chose today.

By the time she reaches for the waistband, he has pushed his shorts and underwear down his thighs and comes back to her with just as much excitement as he left with, but when he helps her tug her panties down her legs, he laughs. Apparently, he had also been too eager to touch her to notice what was written on them before.

"Cute," he breathes out through a laugh, then adds as the cotton fabric slips over her knees, "Pretty sure it's not Tuesday though."

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

He cuts her off, "Whatever you wanna threaten me with won't work, chances are I'm gonna be into it."

Her eyes are alight with a certain fire he's had yet to fully lure out of her. Even her voice is slightly more airy and seductive as a result of it.

"Promise?"

JJ grins down at her as he finally tosses her panties aside with the rest of their clothes, "Cross my heart, pretty girl."

His hands grip her thighs and tug her down the rug to him with a quick jolt that snaps them out of the playful nature of their back and forth teasing. No matter how lighthearted of an interruption it was, the mini-conversation might as well have never existed for how easily they fall back into it again.

She watches with her forehead pressed against his as he strokes himself a few times, then drags his tip, messy with precome, through her wet heat. And though she watches it happen, her body still arches into his when he lines up with her and sinks his hips forward.

She anticipated it, but she still gasps and digs her nails into his biceps at the sensation of him pushing into her. Neither of them bothers to worry about the obvious lack of a condom—it was discussed the first time around when he offered and she told him it was okay. He's often the one to silence the alarm on her phone warning her in its title to, "Take your birth control or else, bitch," while she searches her bag for it anyway, so he trusts her.

Both of them prefer it this way enough to risk the minuscule failure rate of the pill anyway. It's more intimate, closer, and they can both feel the warmth of each other in a way that would've been somewhat muted with an added layer between them. It makes the feeling of him entering her all the more gratifying as she tenses up around him in reaction, drawing a groan from where his parted lips brush against hers.

She lifts her head off of the floor as much as she can to capture his mouth with her own and stifle the sonorous sound despite the storm doing a better job of it.

It seems that every blast of wind and roll of thunder is in their favor tonight, so much so that he isn't even worried about getting walked in on. It's not a thought in his head at this point, the only thought he's capable of having is this. Forgive him for being shortsighted, but he doesn't give a shit if John B notices or hears what's happening when he's buried inside of her so deeply.

His hips are flush with the backs of her thighs in a matter of seconds, and right when he pauses to give her a breather, he feels her shake her head ever so slightly against where their faces are pressed together.

The touch of her hands on his hips is not timid by any means, it's commanding. Her palm prints singe an indelible claim into the surface of his skin as she guides him to start moving without a second spared to dwindle the discomfort of him filling her up. It's less like a pain and more of a pressure blooming from the insistent presence of him, not so overwhelming that it's painful, but it's an effort to breathe evenly and the only thing that'll ease this transitional moment is to continue.

At first, their bodies start to rock together lazily as though on autopilot. They'd hardly be conscious of the fact that they're doing anything if not for the initial sensations of heady ecstasy that flash like the sparks of a lighter in response to their movements. As soon as he felt her hands coax him into action, he sighed happily and surrendered himself to the instinct of wanting to move.

The merging of their bodies is less of the aggressive rutting motions they'll surely succumb to once their current pace is no longer satisfying, but that doesn't make it any less intense. She's partly sure that this is one of the most vulnerable moments either of them has ever had when it comes to sex, and it wouldn't work if it weren't them together. No other person could consume her the way he does, taking up every unoccupied space of her soul until there's nothing left but the silent begging of her heart for him.

Their kiss is messy when it breaks to allow them the chance to suck down a couple breaths of air, saliva shining on his lips in between the seconds it takes them to come crashing back together.

It's loving enough to rot her teeth with its sweetness, a slow but impossibly deep grinding of their hips together that continually presses the tip of him into that sweet spot inside of her, but it takes a turn.

Not only do her hands shift from his hips up to the sides of his waist to get a firmer hold on him, the kiss starts to become vigorous, almost hungry, in search of something more. The dreamlike sequence of the first moment or so they spent slowly fucking under the warm hues of candlelight starts to unravel to reveal the baser instincts that guide them forward.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers the praise into her mouth.

As soon as the words are said, he can feel the effect it has on her. The hands braced on his waist pull his body closer to her at the same moment that she involuntarily squeezes down around him, making the smooth drag of his cock against the velvet-soft heat of her walls even tighter than he thought possible.

The sudden feeling of it makes his first returning thrust much harder than the last. He jerks forward into her with none of the restraint he's retained for the past few moments, and her reaction is nothing short of perfection, at least from his perspective. He watches her throw her head back in a moan, hips bucking to him in pursuit of more, and feels the tips of her fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into the unmarred skin along his waist.

"JJ!" she gasps in surprise, and if her initial reaction weren't enough to spur him on in a frenzied state of desire, this is.

He almost forgot how intense it had been the first time. Their confessions of love preceding this made them both somewhat softer and sweeter in their approach when they started, but he knows how she likes it.

Nobody would expect it from her. He's another story entirely, especially considering how much John B and Pope know about him, but her? He didn't have any in depth conversations about it with either of them, so none of their friends know how dirty she is.

But when you start to tease it out of her, she's got a side to her that makes his blood run hot. Considering how polite she is, he sure as hell didn't see it coming. For fuck's sake, she's the kind of person who'll apologize to a chair if she bumps into it. With that in mind he never thought she'd be the type to demand such things of him.

Just like that, with one moan of his name, it's like she flipped a switch in him that they forgot was there in the first place. It'll never stop surprising him how little it takes to get him going when he's with her, and he doesn't see that changing no matter how long they spend together in the future. Just a touch from her is all it takes, so it's needless to say that the sound of her calling out his name was more than enough.

Those slow, deep movements he made to sink into her again and again have turned rapid and rough, but still controlled enough to have a semblance of precision to them, hitting in all the right places.

"I bet," JJ speaks lowly, "that you want John B to walk out and see us right now."

She doesn't want to admit how much of an instantaneous effect those words have on her, but the feeling of her clenching around him as she bites back a moan completely betrays her. Partly, she worries that he'll take that the wrong way and think it has something to do with John B when it has nothing to do with him at all, but he doesn't. For the spare second of thought she's allowed to have before her mind goes hazy again, she notes how much more eager he is on the upstroke of the next thrust.

Noticing how right he was in his assumption about her liking the risk of getting caught jumpstarts his heart and makes everything he does rougher. She can sense that he's starting to lose control over himself and is acting on instinct alone.

It makes her much more sensitive to everything he does, and all she can do is cling to him and enjoy it as she takes in everything he says and does. It's hard to pick one thing to focus on between the switch up in pace and what he said.

"You want John B to know you like getting fucked like a slut, don't you?"

She could get off on the sound of his voice alone. Hearing him say stuff like that kills her, it makes the swirling bliss that builds in the pit of her abdomen with every thrust he gives her triple in its extremity.

Her legs are tightly wound around his hips to keep him as near to her as possible, her hands sliding up around his waist to keep a steady grasp on him while he pounds into her. The rug scratches at her back enough to make it sting alongside the immense pleasure building in her, but she doesn't care. When blended with the good sensations, the pain underscores the addictive feeling of him inside of her, fucking her exactly how she asked him too.

Looking up at him when he's like this is simply unreal. There's no other way of describing it in her eyes except for that. He's so stunning, she's inclined to believe that he isn't even real as a means of explaining it. This shouldn't be real. It should be one of her daydreams while she steals covert stares at him as they hang out with the Pogues, but it isn't. She can't wrap her head around it.

Those strands of hair that were damp from the rain are mostly dry as they fall into his eyes with the force of his movements. The sight of him alone, set aside from the rest of it, is enough to make her writhe beneath him and claw at his back in tandem with another thrust that sends her jolting against the rug.

He takes one of his hands up from where they both held her hips for leverage to weave his fingers into the roots of her hair.

He demands between the panting breaths and moans that flood the limited space between them, tugging on her hair, "Answer me."

She instantly blurts out the words, "I want him to see us." The feeling of him tilting her head back by the fistful of hair he has wrapped up in his hand is her persistent reminder to concentrate enough to continue, and she bites down on her lip to contain a moan before speaking again, "I want him to know..."

Her cheeks burn with the mere thought of it, let alone saying it out loud. He's the only person she'd ever let in on this intimate side of her, the side that makes her crazy when she hears him say stuff like this. The reason she feels so comfortable doing this with him is that she knows he understands her. It's as if he can read her mind without even having to try, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

It wouldn't matter if the topic of their exhibitionism were any other Pogue or a stranger, it isn't about who it is, it's about the thrill attached to the concept of almost getting seen during such a heated moment. In all actuality, John B is probably snoring face down into his pillow right now with no care for what's happening out here, but he knows what it does to her when they push the boundaries of decency this way. It's the same rush he gets from stealing random, useless things every so often, it's the thrill of getting away with something.

The hand tangled up in the roots of her hair sneaks down between their colliding bodies to rub her clit, and her mouth drops open to take in a shaky breath.

The sight of her beneath him is undoing in and of itself. Head tilted enough to expose her neck to him, chest rising and falling rapidly with her breaths, and breasts bouncing gently with the momentum of their actions—seeing her this way makes his thrusts ramp up into more of a frenzied, uncontainable pace rather than one with the same control and cadence as before. But it's mostly the eye contact that kills him. She doesn't dare to shut her eyes the entire time, as if she can sense that he'll tell her to look at him again the second she does.

"You want him to know what?" he asks, and she knows he won't let her get away with not saying it.

She whines, utterly helpless to the climax starting to build inside of her, "Please."

What she's pleading for, she isn't quite sure, but he can tell by how she's acting that she's starting to get closer, and he wants nothing more than to tease her with the impending chance of her orgasm.

"If you wanna come, you're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

Just like that, he withdraws his hand from between them and leaves her desperate, blindly grasping for the peak she was so close to reaching, she could almost feel it already.

With JJ rocking into her at a relaxed, slower rhythm, the pleasure hasn't disappeared completely. It's there, but she can sense the feeling of her orgasm receding as quickly as it had creeped up on her as soon as he slips his hand out from between them.

It's instantly clear to him how desperate she is as all of her previous shyness surrounding having to admit this to him out loud withers away in seconds. She isn't beneath begging again at this point. He could tell her to crawl across the floor to him and she'd happily do it for the chance of touching him. It's pathetic but true. As much as she has him wrapped around her finger, he has done the same to her and she isn't afraid to admit it anymore.

Her hips jerk toward him in search of the familiar frenzy they were in before that sent her to the brink of climax, but he is impressively stubborn. Despite the fact that it physically pains him to dial it back again, he tries to keep the signs of his own frustration at bay. She knew what she had to say to get what she wants, so he'll only cave when she does.

This time around, she doesn't give a fuck about how badly she blushes or the voice in the back of her mind telling her she should keep this side of her to herself. This time, the one thing she needs to do to prompt her to open her mouth and speak the dirty words he asked her less than a moment ago is look at him. One second of staring up at him and here she is, driven mad enough to say or do anything to get him to pick up where they left off.

She says between the soft noises and breaths coming from them both, clinging to him through every slow but deep thrust that sends sparks ricocheting through her body, "I want John B to know I like getting fucked like slut." Her voice is breathless, and he hangs off of each word as she pauses, looking up at him with a challenging attitude swirling in those pretty eyes. "So stop being a tease and fuck me like one."

His jaw clenches at the bratty statement, one he's too far gone to resist at this point, and right when he's about to respond to her, she speaks again.

"Either that," she says, and a deceptively sweet smile crosses her kiss-swollen lips, "or I can go ask him to—"

She doesn't even get the chance to voice the rest of that thought before he's set into motion.

The hands on her hips flip her over with such casual strength, all she can do is yelp in surprise at the sudden movement that blurs the living room in her peripheral version until she lands with her hands and knees pressing into the rug. He was so swift in pulling out of her and tossing her onto her front like she was nothing more than a rag doll, she hardly had the time to take a breath before she ended up here.

There's hardly any time between when he pulled out to flip her over and when he returns to her again, but it feels like an eternity for them. The few second transition might as well be a few years as she feels his hands guiding her body where he wants it, pushing down on her back until it arches just so, and falls down onto her arms. But as soon as she gets situated, she feels a pair of hands yanking her arms away from where they were braced against the floor and put them behind her back.

It's only then, when he has an unflinching grasp on where he keeps her wrists behind her back with one of his hands, that she is met with the relief of him sinking into her again.

Y/N's jaw goes slack, and she cries out into the rug that her cheek is pressed into as he gives her no chance to adjust or catch her breath before resuming the brutal pace they kept a moment ago. Mentioning anyone else but him doing this to her was the quickest way to get him to snap, so it's safe to say that she's getting what she wanted. After all, she did what he asked, it's fair that she gets rewarded for it.

Amidst the sounds of the storm waging war on the landscape outside of the house, the one thing she can hear over the buzzing pleasure that drowns out her senses is the sinful blend of sounds they create together. It's the sound of their bodies merging, his name falling from her lips, and the curses he makes under his breath that never fail to drive her a little wild.

The hand that isn't holding her arms behind her slides down the length of her curved back until it wraps around her throat to pin her down, and her reaction is everything he could ask for. Seeing her rock back against him to meet him halfway makes his grip on her wrists tighten enough to turn his knuckles white.

Her hair is spread in endless directions in a fan around her head, and he can only see one side of her face from where he kneels behind her, but that glimpse is more than enough. Brows scrunched in pleasure, mouth dropped open in a gape as soft 'uh's and 'ah's escape her on the upstroke of each thrust—she's a mess right now. A beautiful, perfect mess.

"Oh God, JJ," she moans between her rapid breaths and the strong hand constricting her neck, "I'm so close. Please, just let me come."

It took virtually nothing for her to be pushed right back to the edge of the peak she was at less than a minute ago. It took a mere half-minute of this and she's once again reduced to incoherent pleas for more and shaking with no control over herself. Her legs tremble with the effort to keep herself up in this position, and she isn't even the one doing most of the work. In all fairness, this change in position has made the intensity triple. It's deeper this way, and with how harshly he slams into her, it's as though she can feel it in the base of her abdomen.

It's the enjoyable type of pain, however, not the bad type. It'll surely end up with her being sore tomorrow, but she can't hide how much she loves the painful pleasure of how rough it's getting. Being denied an orgasm when she was so, so close to it was initially disappointing too, but it was worth it. If the build up to what would've been her climax before was a spark, this is a flourishing fire spreading through her with no chance of smothering the flames.

He lets go of her throat and taps the side of her jaw in a silent request that she picks up immediately, letting her lips fall open to suck his fingers into her mouth without a second of hesitation.

The taste of her arousal on them is faint, but still there, and it occurs to her that she thought about this earlier before things evolved into chaos. Her tongue swirls around the tips of his fingers as he starts to pull them away in what feels like the blink of an eye to her, leaving him to remember what it felt like when her lips were once wrapped around a more sensitive part of him a week and a half ago.

The one other time he let himself remember it was when they were on the boat with the Pogues, yet that wasn't really of his own volition. It was hot out, so Kiara bought ice pops for them and his mind wandered far from where it should've stayed.

Shining with her saliva, his fingers are pulled from her lips with a soft 'pop' in pursuit of that sensitive collection of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She just needs is a little push to go over the edge, and when he slips his hand down her body to rub tight circles onto her clit, she loses whatever remnants of control over herself she had left.

The steady rhythm of her hips moving back against him falters as she is overwhelmed with the separate sensations culminating into one and giving her the push she needs to come. Her entire body tenses up in anticipation, and since she's pinned to the floor with her hands behind her back, she can only lay there and savor the feeling as it hits her.

After what felt like ages of having it build and build within her, then having it taken away to start the process over again, finally being given a release is a relief beyond any she's felt before.

It's so consuming, it takes away her ability to think of anything outside of how it feels to dissolve into the shockwaves of euphoria rushing through her. Every pulsing wave is prolonged by him, not even through the peak of it does he let up on his precise touches and unforgiving thrusts into her that turn a typical orgasm into the most intense thing she's ever felt.

She's melting in his arms through it all, and as if the change in position didn't make it worse, her involuntary spasms leave him hanging on by a thread.

JJ collapses onto her, barely having the chance to keep himself propped up on his arms as he lets go of her wrists and falls forward onto her sweat-slick back.

The heat of his panting exhales raises goosebumps in its wake where his face is buried into the curve of her neck, and he whines at the impossibly tight feeling of her squeezing around his cock through the end of her climax. Those sounds he doesn't realize he's making have her writhing through the aftershocks, answering with a sound of her own that almost makes him come instantly.

For that reason, he makes the decision to pull out and flip her onto her back.

At this point, she's so dazed and fucked out that she doesn't register any of it until she notices the hollow absence of him inside of her, but it doesn't matter when his face appears through the partial darkness above her.

Despite how sensitive she is right now, the sight of him makes her hands reach out blindly to pull him closer again. They're frantic in their need to get back to one another, grasping and clawing until he finds his way back to her in less than a second, hiking her legs up around his waist with a touch that is somehow demanding and tender at the same time.

It's only when he's inside of her again that it occurs to her why he rolled her onto her back again, and it makes her want to kiss him until her lips turn numb. It may be undeniably hotter to pin someone down and fuck them hoarse, but, no, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be able to look at her, to see her face, and the thought of that has her biting back a sudden confession of love. She isn't sure why she doesn't say it right away, since it isn't like they haven't already done it, but she keeps it to herself for a second first.

It's different now. It's not less passionate or frenetic. It isn't as if he isn't being as rough with her as he was before, but they can both sense a shift in the energy between them as soon as he reenters her. It's less about the pursuit of pleasure and more about the feelings they've kept hidden away for so long. It's a simultaneous realization that hits them a little late after they initially confessed their feelings for each other: this is reality. It's real, and when she touches him this time, he isn't going to disappear if she opens her eyes.

The realization of what happened tonight had yet to hit them until right this second, but now that it has, they move forward with a sense of sentimentality that remained partly dormant before.

If there's anything JJ dislikes, it's being vulnerable. The idea of letting someone in to see every part of him, including the parts he doesn't want to see of himself, has always terrified him after years of being made to believe he's undeserving, yet he isn't uncomfortable right now. Somehow, he feels safe with her. Sex has never been something so emotional for him until now, until her, and he doesn't want it differently.

Their bodies are drawn in close, her arms thrown around his neck, and he's so close, he can feel the muscles leading down past his lower abdomen contract with the inevitable approach of his orgasm. She can sense it too in how he acts.

When he gets close, he becomes clingier and lets his feelings get the better of him. His hands squeeze at her hips, sliding up her sides and back down to hike one of her legs up high around his waist to press deeper into her. He can't bear to allow his touch to stay in one place for too long before exploring another part of her, wanting to memorize the delicate intricacies of her body in its entirety.

It's as if she can read his mind too, cause even when she's sensitive enough to gasp when he pushes her thigh to her chest and throws his remaining energy into fucking her at a satisfying pace, she understands what he needs. She knows to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, to tug on it gently until the light strands are taut from his scalp. She knows to lift her head off of the floor enough to trail tender kisses along his face, his jaw, his neck—anywhere she can access.

"Come for me," she says into a kiss placed on the edge of his cheekbone, reeling in overstimulation as she jolts with his quickening thrusts, "I want to watch you..."

Hearing those words, paired with the kisses and fingers pulling on his hair, does it for him. It doesn't take more for his hips to falter and jerk forward into her a final few times before he comes.

Their foreheads press together as they cling to one another for stability, though it's mostly JJ clinging to her while she watches in adoration, and she has to bite her lip to contain a moan at how it feels. The aftershocks of her orgasm have yet to fade as the feeling of pulsing warmth inside of her makes them stronger, reigniting the fire she felt a moment ago if only for a second.

There's a closeness to this situation that they hadn't felt the last time, and they know it has everything to do with what was said before this happened. The sex itself feels like a dream sequence in her mind now that she's coming down from it with him, moving together slowly and gently beneath the candlelight until they ride out the ends of their highs. It was like they were put under a trance by each other, and now that it's over, the first thoughts that come to mind are of what comes next.

It's not the sole topic on their minds though. They're more focused on catching their breath from where they lay, tangled up together, on the living room floor. As soon as the very last of his orgasm faded from him, he fell onto her without a single ounce of energy left to spare. He's careful not to crush her, but, for the most part, he relaxes on top of her and lets his head rest on her heaving chest.

Strong arms slip down to loop around her waist, and she sure that she couldn't get him to release her if she wanted to, which she doesn't.

But they can't stay like this, not for any longer than a few moments anyway, since they don't know how if John B might wake up and come out of the safety of his bedroom after hours of leaving them to their own devices. JJ was right. He's out cold, but for as much as it turned them on in the heat of the moment, neither of them finds getting caught by him as hot with the clarity of their rational minds coming back to them.

He's the one to break the silence.

"As much as I wanna stay like this, we should probably move in case John B wakes up."

The sound of his voice settles in her with the effects of a sedative. It calms her more than anything else could, especially with the added comfort of him cuddling her so closely. One of her hands strokes through his hair and pushes the damp tendrils of sunshine away from his face as he cranes his neck to look up at her. And, for fuck's sake, what else is she to do except admire him?

His cheeks are dusted pink in a way they often are when he spends too much time outside without one of his hats shielding his face, and she thinks he's never looked better.

Ever since they became friends, she's had this theory about him. In the unrealistic landscape of her overactive imagination, JJ didn't come to this world the way the rest of them did. To her, it seems impossible that someone so good, even in his worst moments, could've come from someone like his dad.

So, in idle moments where she would watch him on a day out with the Pogues or daydream about him, she decided that he's the sun.

She imagines he was created in those breathtaking but brief moments where the sun meets the horizon atop the ocean and washes the sky with a vast array of colors. She likes to think he's the incarnation of it. Golden, warm, and bright for everyone but himself, he keeps the world light for her and their friends without intending to.

Some days are warmer than others too. Some days, the light is dimmed by another bruise beneath his clothes or a bad run-in with some kooks, but today is not like that. This moment is eighty-five and sunny with a balmy breeze. Looking at him right now feels like basking in the sun, and she'd burn here forever if he let her.

Without realizing she zoned out, she jolts when he pinches her arm to rouse her from her ridiculous thoughts. He has this dopey half-smile on his face that nearly draws her back into them again.

"You know what they say," he says, "if you take a picture..."

Her soft laughter invades the room, filling his heart with this light, fluttery feeling that always finds him when she's near. His smile grows as she playfully shoves him and reaches above their heads for her wet shirt to cover up with just in case. Odds are, their friend isn't waking up at the exact moment before they seclude themselves to the spare room and get dressed, but she doesn't wanna take that chance.

"I wasn't staring."

She was totally staring. But who could blame her? When someone looks at a person the way he looks at her, how could they ever stay away?

"Whatever you say."

JJ keeps smiling to himself while he pulls his underwear and shorts up his legs and waits for her to be decent enough to sneak past John B's bedroom to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

The clothes are soaked through with rainwater, so they feel quite uncomfortable to slip back on, but they merely redress enough to be covered. She stole his shirt to avoid putting her shorts back on, the hem of the grey tee hanging right at the tops of her thighs when she walks. As soon as she slips her panties back on and picks up the rest of their cold, wet clothes, that's the cue he needs to scoop her up and take her away.

Y/N curses under her breath in surprise at feeling her feet being plucked off the ground, but she relaxes again once she's settled in his arms, realizing that it was just him who snuck up behind her and lifted her into his arms.

She doesn't say anything on the way to the bathroom. Instead, she lays her head on his shoulder in exhaustion and finds herself staring at the mark she left behind on his neck.

It's a deep, purplish red against the backdrop of his tan skin...the Pogues will surely notice the next time they see him. And while it will make her blush, it won't make her scared as it once would've. There may be a lingering sense of doubt and insecurity within her, but she wants this with him. Even if it means being teased by their friends or dealing with the jealousy of watching kook girls and tourons at parties hit on him, she wants this.

By the time the shower is spraying the rainwater from her hair and washing her clean of sweat sticking to her skin, she realizes that he isn't saying anything either, but she doesn't think it's out of any awkwardness or miscommunication. There's truly nothing to say, at least for now.

Though they didn't have the chance to talk in depth about everything yet, neither of them thinks of that right now. All they know is that they're together, whether it be officially or not, and it feels good. For once, something in his life feels right, and he lets himself enjoy it in silence.

The shower is a cramped space when shared between them and the wet clothes they have draped over the back edge of the tub, but they make it work. It's not like they mind anyway.

They bump into one another whenever they do so much as breathe, and the white walls echo the sounds of her giggling when he tries to tickle her. She leans her head back against his chest and lets out a laugh with shampoo dripping down the front of her face, and he'll be damned if he ever heard a sound as intoxicating as that.

It's a little weird. He's never been as soft and loving with a person before, and he has already felt overwhelmed in the lulls of quiet between them when he's given the chance to think about it.

When she washes his hair for him, insisting that she must return the favor after he so kindly washed hers, he was struck with the same mixture of wanting to simultaneously lean into and pull away from her that he felt the night of the party.

The warmth of the water loosens his sore muscles, washing suds of the green apple scented shampoo over his shoulders and down, down, down until it circles the drain beside his feet. All the while, her fingertips are delicately tracing over a healing bruise on his torso. Those pretty lips of hers are painted in a suppressed frown that she can't hide from him.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

His instant reaction is to fake a smile, to brush it off and distract her as he usually does, yet he doesn't. He forces himself to remain neutral and not push her away.

"Happens all the time," he murmurs, shrugging and averting his eyes to reach for the soap off on the ledge.

The hands holding either side of his waist tighten as he tries to turn, pulling him back to her with more strength than he knew to anticipate from her. Their chests gently collide back together beneath the stream of water, and she can feel his breathing catch for a second or so in response.

The fact that their relationship has changed doesn't change how she handles this aspect of his life. Their new confessions don't have an impact on the part of his life he never wants to let anyone see, so she isn't going to force him to talk about it because they're trying out this whole relationship thing now. He has hard boundaries that she knows not to push sometimes. That's the way it is, and it might change as they grow closer but she knows to accept it for the moment.

As soon as he hears what she has to say next, he could crumble in relief at the realization that their new dynamic doesn't change anything.

"I didn't necessarily mean...that...I meant generally, you know? It's just that—" she sighs, "you shrink away a little when I hold you, and I wondered if I was making you uncomfortable."

Before she could finish the sentence, JJ was already thinking of what to say to prove her wrong, because that's not it. That's not what it is, and if she thinks she's done anything wrong, he'll do anything to convince her otherwise because it isn't her. It's him.

It's his dad lingering in the darker trenches of his mind, commanding his fear and attention so that even when he isn't physically present, he's still here. Part of why he denied wanting her was because he knew these types of things would arise in the beginning, that there would be difficult adjustments to make and conversations to be had, and he didn't want her to leave him as soon as she was faced with one of these things.

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

The feeing of her chest rising and falling with his begins to steady him after a moment of allowing the initial hesitation to dissolve. His internal reaction to her touch is the mental incarnation of a flinch. It's him waiting for the other shoe to drop and expecting her to do something, to hurt him, before his mind catches up with his heart. But once he realizes everything's okay, he loves it.

"It's kinda embarrassing, but I guess when you touch me, I'm expecting something else," he says softly, scared that if he speaks too loudly, everyone in the world will know how weak he feels.

She should've figured, but hearing him say it is different than wondering what the reasoning behind it is. Hearing him admit it after months of strict avoidance on the topic is a sucker punch to the gut.

Both times they had sex, he was too distracted and thoughtless to get caught up in that part of himself, but it's when the bliss of the afterglow disappears that it creeps back in. That's why he could always handle touch when it came in that context. It was his way of obtaining what he wanted without having to face this side of it—a temporary fix to a greater web of issues.

But there's nothing temporary about her. He doesn't want her to leave him, not without him resisting the urge to beg her on his knees to stay and at least remain his friend, so there's no choice but to face these momentary challenges head on.

She pauses for a second, thinking, then says, "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, I get it. We'll just have to take it day by day then. We can take it slow, and you'll let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

It's hard not to be shocked by how well she's taking it. A lot of people probably wouldn't feel too great after someone they love tells them they expect to be hit whenever they touch them, yet she's taking it in stride.

Things are back to normal as soon as she sees the grin on his face.

"So, you're saying you're gonna be trying not to throw yourself at me all the time?" JJ asks, then clicks his tongue as though in thought. "I give you a week. Tops."

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. She holds her hand over her heart as she pretends to be scandalized by such an accusation, but they know it's true. They both can't keep their hands off of one another, which is why it confuses him. How can he want to reject and enjoy her touch at the same time? Sure, the discomfort disappears after the first split-second, but the fact that it happens in the first place annoys him to no end.

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide the fact that she's giggling as she reaches for the soap.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

He doesn't miss a beat, saying back, "Yeah but I'm your little shit, so I feel like that says more about you than it does me."

While he's too busy rinsing the rest of the shampoo out of his hair, she smiles to herself at what he said.

Hers.

Nobody has ever been hers before, or proclaimed themselves as belonging to her as proudly and casually as he just did, and her heart melts over the sweet sentiment he didn't think twice about.

Less than a day ago, she was agonizing over her relationship with him and trying to ignore how powerful those feelings for him were, and now they're here. She no longer has to steal glances when he looks away or hide how jealous she feels when other girls flirt with him. To finally let the tension disappear is an immense weight off of her shoulders.

The rest of the shower is as quiet as the start of it was, and that comfortable silence continues through from when they're drying off and redressing to when they hit the mattress in the spare bedroom with tired sighs.

After the day they had, the mere suggestion of sleep is enough to make them start yawning, so being able to slip beneath the sheets and rest their heads almost sings her to sleep instantly.

Their bodies are laying in the exact outlines of where they laid the night of the party, the only difference this time being their mindsets. This time around, they aren't holding themselves back from anything, and it's most evident in the little things. Like how she doesn't turn around to shield her face from him, instead laying with her head propped on the other end of his favorite pillow.

They're so close, their noses brush if they make any slight movements, and this would be enough for him to submit to the urge to drift into sleep if not for the fact that he feels her jolt when thunder rumbles loudly outside of the window.

Much like his own fears being pushed to the side amidst their desire for each other, her anxiety about the storm wasn't on her mind until they laid down to sleep.

She was so wrapped up in him and everything that happened between them that she didn't have the time to think again until now, until she hears the violent patter of rain against the roof and feels her stomach drop at the sound of the thunder. Suddenly, she's not the one reassuring him about his fearful reactions, it's the other way around.

His warm hand takes hers, snatching it up as though he's worried it'll disappear if he doesn't take it quickly enough, and she lets him. Her eyes flutter shut with the release of a slow, deep breath, and she lets the presence of his hand in hers bring her back to earth.

JJ asks into the darkness, "Can I take you out on a real date?" After a beat of silence, the comforting sound of his voice returns to her. "Not that this isn't fun, but I think you deserve a little more effort than John B's living room floor."

A short-lived chuckle escapes her—a win as far as he's concerned. It's difficult to lure her head from the clouds when she gets this way, and it isn't like he has much experience with calming her during these moments either, but that sounded good to him. It sounded like she wasn't thinking about the increased pace of her heart or the howling wind outside.

He was planning on asking anyway. However fitting of a first night together this was, he wants to take her out for real sometime soon. He doesn't have much money for it, like at all, but they can come up with something special together, even if it's similar to the same shit they usually do together. As long as it's time alone together, they don't necessarily care if it's a perfectly traditional first date.

The tip of his thumb rubs comforting circles onto the back of her hand in the brief time it takes her to respond, stroking the soft skin as if to tell her that everything's okay. It seems to say, I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you. And it might make her crazy, but she believes him. JJ could take her back out into the eye of the hurricane at this very moment and she'd still believe his unspoken promise of not letting her into harm's way.

"Of course," she says, then pauses, and the sound of her sleepy voice hardly reaches his ears when she speaks again, "...I'm sorry I avoided you for the past few days. I was scared to tell you how I felt but I shouldn't have left that morning."

The memory of waking up in his arms is fresh in the forefront of her mind, so much so that she can remember the way his breath felt where it exhaled in warm puffs onto her skin.

In the first few moments of consciousness, it was peaceful.

She laid awake for a minute or two to count his breaths and soak in the comfort of being cuddled up next to him, wishing she could stay there for hours. It wasn't until another moment passed that it clicked with her where she was and what was going on between them recently, and that was what prompted her to slip away from the bed to get ready for her day at work.

It was the second time in a row that she left him in that bed with nothing to wake up to but the cold absence of her body between the sheets he slept under, and he can't deny that it's part of why he holds onto her hand so tightly tonight. Even though she's promised him otherwise, he can't help but think she'll be gone by the time he wakes up. At this point, he's struggling to stay conscious. She can see those pretty eyes drooping more and more by the second, yet the hand holding hers doesn't loosen its grip.

He takes a deep breath and scoots closer to her, keeping his one hand in hers while the other arm drapes itself over her waist, and he can feel her relax into the touch.

"It's okay," he says.

It's easier for him to adjust to so much physical contact when he's the one initiating. He knows that's why she only reached out to hold his hand. If she had it her way, she would've already been cuddling with him as soon as they laid down, but he likes that she gives him the space to initiate it. In the ways it counts the most, she cares about him more than anyone else has.

The touch in itself is his way of accepting her apology. However, truth be told, he already forgave her for it before knowing his love was reciprocated could be a possibility.

Right when she's about to fall asleep, the screen door slamming open and shut with the wind on the back porch makes her whip her head around to look over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. It seems like every time he successfully distracts her from it, the storm finds new ways of reminding her of what's happening outside of the safety of the Chateau.

There's the sound of a barely audible, sharp inhale, then her whispering into the dark room as she looks at the closed door, "I can't believe I went out into that. What the fuck was I thinking?"

It's beginning to close in on her again; the sounds of the storm, the sense of being trapped no matter how safe they truly are, and the rising tidal wave of anxiety that picks up speed the more she tries to will it to stop. This is the part where she tries to relieve it in some way, usually by smoking weed to sleep or going to one of her parents so they can help her through it, but she can't help herself right now.

Debris was being picked and tossed around in the wind like it weighed nothing when she was out there, she could've been knocked into the marsh or struck by a piece of debris.

How could she be so stupid?

Not only could she have hurt herself, she could've hurt JJ knowing that he'd likely follow her out into the storm to bring her back inside, and the thought of him being hurt makes the tension in her chest heavier. Her breathing picks up speed, the anxiety starting to snowball out of control when—

"Hey, look at me," JJ says, reaching up to turn her head to face him, and she damn near crumbles in relief at feeling his hand cup her cheek. It doesn't make it all disappear, but it provides a momentary comfort that she doesn't take for granted. "You're safe here. You know damn well I'll do anything to protect you. I mean, shit, dude, if I have to go out there and tell that rain to fuck off, I will."

This draws out a laugh from her, chest stuttering with the happy sound through the tears glistening in her eyes, and he never wants to stop hearing it. His thumb swipes away the first teardrop that falls before it can slip over the apples of her cheeks. I'm Her quiet cries and shaky breaths continue for a while after the laughter disappears. For a second or two, he watches with his thumb still wiping her tears away and hopes that it'll be enough to comfort her, but it can't do it completely.

He pulls away from her to get up from the bed with an idea popping into his mind, but upon hearing her whine at the loss of contact with him, he pauses to say, "I'll be back quick, don't worry."

The remaining humorous side of her left wonders if he's actually gonna go tell the rain to fuck off, but he's just opening the bedroom door to trot out into the living room.

A candle burning on the coffee table illuminates the space for him, guiding him straight to the forgotten backpack she left slumped against the arm of the couch hours before their relationship was changed for the better. It takes him an instant to get there and back with the bag in hand, and he's digging through it for a second before climbing back into bed with her.

If anyone else rifled through her bag, sifted through her personal belongings, and dug her phone out of it, she'd probably be annoyed, but she never is with him. She's inherently protective of her things, but JJ can do whatever he wants and it has always been that way. It should've been the first warning of what was to come.

He pulls the sheet back over his body and scoots up close to her, trying to resist the urge to retreat at first when he maneuvers her to lay with her head on his shoulder. It should trigger the flight or fight response that often alarms in his head, but he's able to push it away.

She's so vulnerable right now, so gentle and in need of the warmth of another person that he isn't as intimidated. It's not that she couldn't hurt him if she wanted to right now, she could, but he knows her. He knows that the last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt him, so he has to remind himself of that and give himself the permission to enjoy the physical intimacy of her touch. The part of him that questions if he even deserves it can't reach him now, not when he's so focused on her.

"Thumb?" he asks with the phone held out expectantly.

The screen is less than two inches from her face, so she has to push it back slightly, but she flattens her thumb to the button without further hesitation.

When he unwraps the pair of headphones from around the palm of his hand and plugs them into the charging port, she realizes why he left in the first place.

When she was facing away from him, eyes shut and headphones in to distract herself with music earlier, he was stealing glances at her every so often. He tried to keep away from her for the most part. It was difficult though, especially knowing what she said about being jealous the night of the party and knowing how scared she was of the hurricane. He couldn't help but keep an eye on her, for both his own selfish needs and his worry for her.

He keeps an arm tucked around her, pressing her body into his while he pops one of the headphones into her ear and the other into his. The thing is, her eyes aren't trained on the screen like his are once he starts looking through her vast collection of not-so-legally acquired music for a song that suits both of their tastes, they're trained on him.

Their taste in music tends to diverge in certain ways and overlap in others, so there's always a fifty/fifty shot of him liking what she plays when she's the one picking the music. That is why he smiles to himself and halts the endless scrolling in its tracks to hover his thumb over one song.

He obviously heard it before she played it that one time, but it's different for him now. They were riding together in the backseat of the Twinkie on the way to the beach with John B, Kie, and Pope when they let her take her turn to play a song.

That's how it is with them, the driver goes first, then it goes to the front seat passenger, and so on and so on until they make their way back to the beginning of the rotation. It was her turn when she picked this song, and it could've been the song, or the sunset shining through the window, but he felt as though his heart exploded when he looked at her in the middle of it.

He remembers feeling confused, confused as to why he couldn't catch his breath and why he suddenly adored the song he only heard casually a couple of times.

It was her. It was everything about her. The soft hum of her voice murmuring the lyrics, too shy to actually sing them in the presence of anyone else, was too delicate for the others to appreciate over the sounds of the van. He heard it though. He clung to it and admired her, so unashamed in his staring that he didn't realize he was doing it. It wasn't until she noticed that he stopped.

"Do I still have ice cream on my face or something?"

Her fingers came up to wipe at the corner over her mouth, and the action sent him turning his attention away quicker than he knew he could move, pulling the lighter out of his pocket to fiddle with as he mumbled, "Yeah, but you got it off now."

The cheery melody of Just Like Heaven bursts out of each headphone into their ears.

How did he know? How is he constantly reading her mind without realizing it?

This was her first song on the couch that she couldn't stand to sit through without thinking, naturally, of him when confronted with the topic of love. Somehow, it's like he knew that, and instead of feeling exposed and scared he'll know her feelings like before, she feels loved.

She is never skipping this song again.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, clicking the screen off and resting it on his stomach.

It takes him a short thirty seconds to fall into an easy, calm pattern of breathing that tells her he isn't asleep, but soon will be. But she's fighting her sleepiness to continue looking at him. His eyes are fluttered shut, hair messy on the pillow, and she'd want to reach up to kiss him if he weren't trying to fall asleep.

Instead, she settles for matching her quickened breaths to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand and shuts her eyes along with him.

By the time the song reaches its end, she thinks he's asleep, but she still whispers, "Thank you," and feels his arm squeeze around her body in response.

The next songs fade into white noise at this point for her, drowning out the storm to the point where she begins to forget it's happening out there.

Maybe they can be each other's safe place when things get rough. After all, he handled this wonderfully considering his lack of experience with her anxiety and she never pushes him on his plethora of unsorted issues, even when she wants so badly to be the one to initiate the touch.

She never makes him think she pities him, or wants to "fix" him like so many partners with savior complexes who will never try to understand how it feels often do in these situations. With each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated anymore, even when they have those inevitable arguments here or there.

The last thing he does before allowing himself to be dragged under is brush his lips on her forehead in a tender kiss. And when he eventually wakes to the rising sun shining through the windows in the aftermath of the violent hurricane, she's still there.

Tag List: @jjjmaybank, @its-simply-fanfiction, @naughtydild0swaggins.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx s2 #obx #fanfiction

422 notes · View notes

bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years ago

Text

gardenia. (m)

dialogue prompt #7: “Don't push me away anymore”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fwb, angst, smut

word count: 2,110

warnings: mentions of smoking, making out, oral (f receiving), fingering, a brief handjob, protected sex

summary: pretty cliche. you have feelings for your fuck-buddy.

a/n: I think this is the longest smut I've written (?), I know 2k words is nothing for a fic but still 0_0 and with this there are a total of 7 jungkook oneshots so I'll be concentrating on the rest of the members and then begin writing au oneshots!!

masterlist

“Don't push me away anymore”, he pants, “please… ”

“Jungkook I'm not doing this right now”, you snap at him. He looked really tired to have energy to make it back to the apartment, and if it was any other day you would've gladly let him in and give his favorite soft blue blankets and let him cuddle you.

“I didn't mean it. I was so wrong Y/n. I was stupid. Just let me explain for once…”. He slowly enters in. You hate that however much you tried, he's going to win you over. However much you say you hate him, all of that wall shatters the moment he locks eyes.

“Explain then”, you cross your arms and watch his frame waddling to sit on the couch.

“I swear I never knew you had feelings for me“ he ruffles his hair into a mess, his chest clenches when he thinks about all that he has to tell you, “I thought… I thought it was just sex… and… and when you confessed to me during the game, I… I thought it was all a part of it”.

“You don't need me to tell me all the things I already know Jungkook. You don't have anything else to say?”, you huff.

“And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made fun of you. I'm an asshole. That was...that was so wrong of me”. He stands up from his seat and comes close, only to see you walking back. It breaks him more.

It was three days ago when Jimin hosted a party, drinks and all, with some Las Vegas theme just for the sake of it. Since he's part of your close friend circle, you promise to tag along. You should've stayed back to complete that philosophy research paper.

And then everyone drinks of course. It's some cheap liquid, purple enough to make you lose appetite. But you drink four cups of it anyway and Jungkook nine.

Then came a dreadful game of truth or dare. A very cliche way to make a love confession. You are usually the type to keep it all in. But you had been fucking Jungkook for so long, it became harder and harder to put a show. As every heated night with him passes, the space for him inside your heart only expands.

And so you couldn't take it much and went ahead and said that you love Jungkook when Taehyung asked to confess something Jungkook doesn't know about. A rejection was well expected. The only thing you expected in fact. But it got much worse.

Jungkook went ahead and made fun of you for falling for him. He said your obsession for his dick isn't any love. Yada yada it made you cry, Jungkook sensed he had fucked up, Taehyung felt guilty since he's the one who asked you in the first place and Namjoon made sure you reach your apartment safe, give you a hug and vowed he'll have a talk with Jungkook the next day.

And so you waited, and grew angry that it really took him three full days to come up with a basic apology.

But Jungkook was in his own pit of loathing. It took him a few hours into crying on his couch to realise he has feelings for you too. If it was just the fact of pleasure, he would have definitely fucked other girls. But he didn't.

He enjoyed being with you way too much. But he was dumb and all the more a dick to tease your feelings.

“Nothing else?, you ask him, with tears demanding to pour out. You keep knawing your skin with nails to stop yourself from crying.

“I… think… I have feelings for you too”, he whispers and then sobs. His eyes are already puffy. It only showed how much you meant to him, but you're still afraid to jump into conclusions until solid answers.

“I want you to be sure Koo”.

He feels a wave of relief hit him when you addressed him by his favorite nickname. It gave him hope that you accepted his apology.

He looks up at you with a smile, “I'm sure. I love you Y/n”.

And then he is putting out a single hand towards you, hoping you'll come to his embrace. He notices the mess you're in while there's few moments of stillness lingering. Your apartment looked like it was in a havoc, a clear representation of both of your fucked up brains. You move a step to let him hold the side of your face.

It was unreal how healing it was to feel his skin again that you close your eyes to fully dwell in it.

He very carefully guides your heads into his chest and kisses the crown of it.

“Koo…”, you smile softly against the softness of his hoodie when he starts rocking both of your bodies from side to side.

“Hmm?”

You look up to his face. His doe eyes almost disappear inside the red swollen lids when he smiles back at you. You tip-toe to place a sweet kiss on his eyes while he closes it. Planting slow and sensual kisses, just letting the night drape over you.

You move your hands underneath his hoodie to feel his toned torso and he smiles at the warmth of your palm pressing against him. He missed this so much. He missed you so much. And he wants to make things right now.

You give a small nod of consent, telling him it's okay to kiss you. It looked like he was smoking to cope with his feelings. He tasted like the faintness of blunt and mint mouthwash.

“God I love you so much Y/n”, he says again, just to make sure you believe him because he fears you are still holding back.

You cup his face and press back your mouth to his, tongue experimentally laving at him which he happily complies.

Jungkook tugs at your hoodie now, wanting to set your skin ablaze like every time. And after a brief moment of kissing, he pulls your hoodie out making you half naked and aroused.

“Koo please touch me”, you whine, pressing your body towards him. He chuckles before holding your hands and towing you towards your bedroom.

Once making sure the doors and windows are closed, he resumes to you who is waiting rather impatiently at the edge of the bed.

He gets on his knees in front of you, drawing slow circles at the side of your hips, eyes looking for consent yet again. He was afraid if he was being honest. Your relationship seemed really fragile and he is afraid to break it apart once again.

“What's holding you back?”, you read his mind, feeling him not completely present at the moment. He has fear laced in his eyes, in his touch and you want to relieve him of it all.

“It's okay Koo. I promise. Make love to me please”, you assure, holding his face on your palm.

You have never referred to intimacy with Jungkook as ‘making love’, and he is blown away with a certain kind of happiness at that.

He reciprocates a smile before planting smooches on your belly while his hands work on your sweatpants.

Jungkook knows you get pretty self aware of your body at times like this and especially when he has not ridden himself of any clothing yet. So he pulls his hoodie over, a very notable distraction to keep your mind busy while he starts to work up with kissing the blush of your knees.

You spread your legs for him to sit closer to your core, already dripping out juices he craves so much.

He bites and sucks at the skin of your inner thigh, slow and steady to make you practically beg for his tongue. And you twist your fingers on his hair to ready yourself.

A silent moan erupts out of you at the first swipe at your core, and you move closer to his face to feel his entire face press on to your pussy.

He kisses the labia like he would to your mouth, taking his time and tasting what you have to give and when his nose presses against your clit, the first audible moan reaches Jungkook’s ears.

You are mostly silent in bed. A very useful information for Jungkook to fuck you whenever and wherever he wants, like he used to on your friend phase days. And to give pleasure to you so intense that you make beautiful melodies despite it was one of his personal goals every time.

Hyped at the sounds he is hearing, he holds nothing back. Diving straight for the much awaited lick of your clit, he kisses and draws patterns with his tongue to pull you apart faster.

“J-jungkoo- ah!”, you mewl, squirming vigorously. The only thing holding you in position to him being his strong arms digging at the side of your hips.

Knowing you wanted to climax so bad, he plunges two of his fingers knuckle deep into your core, scissoring them simultaneously as his mouth works above.

As you come, he laps everything he can and plants a final sweet kiss to the lips of your pussy.

Not giving him a chance to speak, you push your body down to meet him for a kiss, thankful for the mind splitting orgasm.

He stands on his feet and gets on bed to hover your figure.

“Always beautiful...”, he coos and kisses your temple before restarting his sin on your left boob.

“Jungkook please”, you cry out. The stimulation way too much to process and making your walls flutter on your core. He rolls his hips to your pelvis, feeling his hardness straining against the soft material of the sweatpants.

He seemed to be enjoying way to much of controlling you so you reach down to dig past the waistband of his pants to feel his hardness slick with some pre cum.

“Y-y/n”. He stops all of a sudden, parting his swollen lips from your nipples and sighing at the feel of your fingers curling against his length.

You were amused to see him getting worked up with a simple handjob. Your hand is getting slick of more of his pre cum oozing out as time passes by.

“Jungkook...please”, you plead once more and he is quick to act this time. His full expanse of skin exposed to you once his pants are out of the way.

“Are there condoms in the drawer baby?”, he asks quickly whilst palming himself to stay stimulated.

You nod and he gets off of bed to prep himself, knowing you and the belongings of your room all too well.

“Ready baby?”

“I swear to God Koo just do it”, you say this time and watch his chest rumble in a deep groan.

Your hands fly to his shoulders when he presses in the head of his cock. He observes your face twisting in various shades of bliss when he presses into you slowly until fully bottoming out.

Bending your knees, he places himself better and rolls his hips into you, both of you grunting at the feeling.

“F-fuck baby”, he moans, his pace slowly coming up and every switch of speed earns different sounds from you and that drives him more.

You look utterly divine like this. Your delicate hands scratching bruises on his shoulders, lips agape and face covered in faint sweat from the heat of both bodies. At one moment he pulls his cock out all the way back to the tip before ramming it inside you making your skin jump up in delight.

“I'm gonna cum Y/n”, he sighs, feeling his nerves kicking in. He buries his hands between your thighs to rub at your clit, wanting to feel your cum around him as he spills out.

“I'm-”. You feel another band snap, walls clenching around him with your juices which fuels Jungkook’s orgasm. His movements come to a halt once he had drawn out the euphoria and bends down to steal another kiss from you.

“Thank you so much Y/n”

You giggle, squirming your body as he pulls out and discards the condom to the dust bin, “Why Koo?”.

He returns by your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face between your breasts, breathing in the sweet scent, “For believing in me. I was so scared”, he confesses.

Emotions from earlier boils to the surface and you kiss the crown of his head in return.

“Don't worry I won't leave you”

“Yeah?”

You kiss his forehead, “Yeah”.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

184 notes · View notes

imbackmrstark · 4 years ago

Text

《——————》

• l e m o n b o y •

It was the kid from next door. Brown, curly hair and those sweet, thin lips. His eyes, God, his eyes, Tony could stare into them for hours. He was barely 15 years old, the boy, maybe 16, Tony had never asked and never intended to. Talking, that was the problem. Tony never had a word with the boy, not even at the welcome party; the boy's family, the Parkers – he knew that from the door sign – only moved here a few months ago, Tony had fallen in love immediately. He couldn't take his eyes off the smaller one all day long, staring at him like a hungry lion at its prey, but instead of attacking the teenager, he just smiled insecurely every now and then. He looked like an angry hamster – a sweet, angry hamster. You couldn't take him seriously, he was far too cute. Tony was head over heels in love with the boy next door. And so it began that Anthony E. Stark watched the younger one from his room window every day as he built and hammered on something outside, curious what it would be.

One day – Tony just came out of his bathroom, hair freshly washed and with a towel around his waist – he saw a small booth with a sign on it saying "lemonade $2". A smile played around his lips and he completely forgot to put something on and comb his hair, far too distracted by the sunshine down on the street, which at that moment took some lemons and pressed them into a lemonade. That's when Tony started calling him 'lemon boy', whether in his head or when he talked to his parents about the Parkers boy.

He supported his elbow on the windowsill and leaned his chin on the palm of his hand while watching the neighbor. To live across from such a beauty is a curse and a blessing in equal measure. Tony thought that even a blind man would see how much he was in love and that scared him. He couldn't–.. to be honest, he didn't even try to talk his way out of it, he had no chance, he knew he had lost to this disgusting love. Pah, who needs love! The teenager pulled a face, he needed love. Oh dammit.

He let his gaze wander back to the street and only noticed too late that Little Parker had looked up at him. A sweet smile adorned his face and he raised his hand briefly to wave sweetly. Tony's eyes widened in shock before he threw back a quick smile and jumped away from the window, getting tangled up in the blanket and falling to the floor. A soft laugh was heard from the street and the older one puffed offended.

Tony wondered why the boy had just opened his shop at the beginning of his school days. Every day from 8am to 3pm at school and then up to two hours of homework and studying. How is he supposed to find time for his lemonade? Talking about school: The teenager was sitting right now in the school bus on his way to personal hell, while Parker was once again being brought fine by Auntie. Aunt... Tony had heard that the boy's parents had died and that he was now living with his aunt and uncle. Even though he loved them, he felt bad for him. The brown-haired teen got up and grabbed his bag when the bus came to a halt, then left it to find his friends with a quick glance. That was the less difficult task, but getting there first... almost impossible.

"Tonyy!" A girl with brown hair waved at him before she ran to him with her bouncing boobs to give him a cheerful hug. "How was the holiday, big boy? You're fine?"

"Sorry, but who were you again?" Faces and names, not Tony's domain at all, especially when he sees so many of them a day. Most popular boy in school problem.

The girl made an offended expression on her face and was about to start complaining when she was harshly interrupted.

"Stark. Why don't you stop flirting and join us? We've been waiting here forever." That voice... That fucking voice. It could only come from one lady, and you better not fuck with her. A request was a request and she never took no for an answer, never ever.

"Natasha, darling... Of course, I'm on my way," he replied instantly, looking forward to having his peace and quiet from all the annoying students, because one thing was made clear on the first day of school: James Barnes hates people and will beat up anyone who didn't get official permission to stay near him. Even Steve, an old best friend, now just a friend, to get him into the group took days and now... now the two of them can't be separated anymore. They are one of the favorite couples at this school.

"Hey man," Steve grinned at him slightly, his typical greeting after the holidays, just to get warm again. They parted quarrelling back then - Tony had caught him sleeping with his girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, Pepper, and instead of an apology he only got to hear that she was a slut and he just wanted to show him that she was wrong. It took years to stand so close to him again without Tony wanting to punch him in the face.

"What's up?" He wasn't a real speaker, he hated this job most in everyday life anyway. He listened to his friends most of the time and answered everyone only the most necessary questions. Only with some of them he could come out a bit more. For example his best friend Rhodey and maybe even a little bit with Natasha.

The happy expression on his face when the bell rang couldn't go unnoticed by his friends, which is why a little grin crept across Rhodey's face before he put his hand on Tony's shoulder and went to class with him. The hours stretched like chewing gum and the teenager became so bored that he voluntarily started talking to the people around him. Sometimes a little word with the girl next to him and sometimes a few sentences with a buddy of his named Thor. They got along well, even if Thor wasn't the brightest candle on the chandelier. It was always funny to listen to the boy, how he put up crazy theories. Weirdo. After the English lesson they walked together through the corridors to their lockers, which happened to be close together. On the way there, the paths of Tony and the Lemon Boy crossed, who smiled softly, then immediately looked down at the floor again. At school Tony wore the pants, here he was braver and here he could stand his looks and smiles. At home then rather less, the boy made him weak.

"Earth to Stark," Thor curiously waved his hand in front of his face to regain the attention he was currently giving the sugar sweet boy. And by "giving" he meant staring at the boy like a stalker, so that even he noticed it and speeded up his walking with red cheeks. Maybe Tony was creepy, yes, maybe, but it was all due to stupid love. If it didn't exist, none of this would've happened. He puffed, glanced back up at Thor, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Why don't you ask him out?"

"Just shut up, you have no idea." He grumbled discontentedly and turned back around to see Bucky leaning against Tony's locker, smiling knowingly. Of course he knew what was going on in Tony's head. He'd been through the whole thing himself. With Steve, in fact. He shook his head, his hair falling unintentionally into his face, so Steve's hand slid towards him instantly and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. Of course the blond guy was not far away from his lover, always at his side, that asshole. Tony rolled his eyes, stood right in front of them and showed with a quick movement of his head that he wanted to get to his locker.

"What do you want, idiot? Ohh, your locker. Ah sorry, but I am standing here right now, find yourself another place, will you?" Bucky replied with wagging eyebrows and a smirk on his lips.

"Fuck off or I'll punch you in the face, idiot." Tony's nerves were shot to shit. First the beautiful boy who gave him a smile and now a fucking bastard who interrupted his daydreams. "Come on, just say what you're getting at. Come on, one word and I'll show you some respect, you little pain in the ass."

"I haven't heard so many words from you in a long time, you little bitch." He laughed happily, like this was all some sort of game to him. Being a bit annoying to his friends, his favorite hobby, it seems. Not to Steve, apparently, because his body showed something quite different. He was tense and his hands were clenched in fists as if he was about to intervene any second to protect his lover, even if he could do it well himself.

"Okay big boys, that's enough." The redhead who almost always got Tony out of difficult situations, intervened again. "There's a real tense atmosphere here, don't you think?"

"Completely agree with you," confirmed Thor, who was a little tense himself. It wouldn't be the first time that Bucky and Tony would fight, it happened almost every month, but it hasn't been as bad as today for a long time.

"The motherfucker's in love, totally, and he knows that I know and he knows that I know who it is and that... that scares him." That grin on his face and those eyes that radiated such joy, like he thought he'd won. Tony couldn't help himself. He swung and punched the asshole right in the face.

"Tony!!!"

"Gee, I've already apologized. He's just a little drama queen, we all know that." Tony paced the hallway outside the hospital room trying desperately to talk his way out. Meanwhile, Thor sat in the far too small chair and watched him pacing as if it was even remotely exciting.

"Holy shit, you broke his fucking nose!" Clint, another friend of Tony's, or rather Natasha's, interfered and threw the facts back on the table. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"He provoked me. He always provokes me. I hope this has taught him a lesson."

"Absolutely, motherfucker," Bucky muttered sarcastically as he came out of the hospital room with Steve holding his hand and his face in pain. He had a white bandage on his nose and some blood on his upper lip. Tony leaned against the opposite wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest, raised one eyebrow while trying not to look as if he was actually worried. "Don't pretend, you son of a bitch, I know you love me and you're really, really sorry. And you know what? I forgive you, okay? Because I love you too, pal."

"Dude, what? I don't love you, man. That's totally gay, stop fucking around. Damn, now I've wasted my time with all this shit too. I'll see you guys tomorrow, you little pesky kids." He shook his head with a sigh before he pushed himself off the wall and walked down the corridor to the exit. It was already 4pm, he had wasted a whole hour.

When he opened the glass door and went outside, he saw an all-too-familiar brunette sitting there on a small wall with his arms wrapped around his backpack and fear in his eyes. Tony curled his eyebrows. What was Parker still doing here? He didn't want to, but he had to. He gathered up all his courage and walked towards the boy, who noticed his neighbour much too late and quickly looked up with big eyes.

"Hey, lemon boy," murmured Tony softly, avoiding eye contact most of the time, but when the boy didn't answer, he raised his head. "What are you still doing here?"

"You're Tony S-Stark, right? The boy next door.. right?" The smaller one wiggled his legs unsteadily around and bit his lower lip.

"Yes, I am, but that wasn't my question." He shifted his weight to one leg, tried to look a little cooler and also tried not to stare at the kid the whole time.

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry. I... um... Ben, my uncle... he was gonna pick me up, but he doesn't answer, and, yeah, so..-"

Tony took a deep breath before he just let his question shoot out of him. "Will you walk home with me? Then we won't be alone and I don't have to feel bad about leaving you here. I'll have to walk anyway."

"I, um... Sure, why not. I'm Peter, by the way, I'm not sure if you knew that yet. So, um, yeah..." He bounced off the wall and shouldered his bag before he walked down the street beside Tony. He was glad he was asked, he would never have dared to walk alone along the main road and then across country roads while it was already getting dark.

"To be honest, I didn't know, sorry." The older one gripped the straps of his backpack tighter so his ankles turned white. He looked down, barely daring to look at the smaller one, but he was so incredibly beautiful, how could he not?

Tony had to admit that his idea to ask Peter to come along was really good, considering the long way in darkness. Living in a village two hours away from the nearest school and then having to walk across country isn't the yellow of the egg, but Tony was used to it. He grew up in this house and even his parents always had to go this way back then, so he couldn't complain. As long as you caught the bus that ran twice before and after school, everything was fine. If you got detention or missed it, you were just unlucky and had to walk or to ask someone to pick you up. When Tony looked at the boy, he shivered under the cold of the night and he couldn't help but take off his jacket and put it over his shoulder, even if he was freezing to death himself. Peter looked up in surprise, then smiled thankfully and squeezed himself a little more by Tony's side.

"Are you afraid? I mean, in the dark?", asked the taller one quietly after a short time, while he was about to protect the boy with his arm.

"When I'm alone, sometimes." muttered Peter uncertainly, then looked up with his round eyes. Tony just wanted to bend down and kiss him, but he didn't. He'd talked to the boy for the first time today, so he couldn't ambush him with a kiss.

"And now? Are you afraid?", the older one asked after a long time of silence, just looking straight and avoiding trembling. This cold was killing him and the sweet boy with the far too big jacket next to him as well. Tony's jacket was like a blanket for Peter, his fingertips could barely be seen and then there was this magical smile on his lips.

The next moment the little one shook his head to answer the question that was asked a few minutes ago. "Somehow, no. This jacket makes me feel safe, I don't know... Thanks again.", mumbled Peter and crawled a little more into the fabric.

"Just the jacket?" He squinted his eyes over to Peter, suppressed his grin when he noticed the red cheeks.

"No, because of you too, my hero." Peter raised his arm and pointed to the first houses they saw after two hours walking. "Almost there!"

"Finally. My feet are killing me and I'm hungry, too. It's all Bucky's fault."

"Who's Bucky? Ah, wait, is that the boy with the long hair? The one you punched in the face?" They turned into a street and walked a few more blocks until they were in front of their homes and they were still standing outside to continued their talk. "Why did you hit him, anyway?"

"Not so important. He was an asshole again, and he was begging for it." Tony shrugged and walked towards Peter's house like it was normal, leaving him stunned. "You coming? I'll take you home like a gentleman."

"Oh, yeah, yeah... thanks, um, sorry, I'm coming." Peter hurried to get to Tony and smiled thankfully at him, while he was already knocking at the door. It was opened by a young woman with long brown hair who looked surprised and then tore Peter into her arms with relief.

"Oh God Peter! I was so worried! Ben feels so bad, he had to work late and his phone... and... and..."

"May, breathe! It's all fine, Tony brought me home, nothing happened." Peter slowly separated from his aunt and looked over his shoulder, smiling, at Tony, who only raised his hand briefly.

"Thank you, Tony... How can we ever repay you? You know what... You come over for dinner tomorrow and Ben takes you back after school, no buts."

A smile was on Tony's face and he quickly thanked her. "See you tomorrow, lemon boy."

It was until late in the evening - Tony was sitting up in his room, on his bed, thinking about what happened today - when he noticed that Peter still had his jacket. He sighed and looked over his shoulder out of the window to look into the boy's room. Apparently he was already asleep; the light was off and the curtains drawn. He just hoped that the younger one would give him his jacket back tomorrow.

Being back at school the next day and standing next to Bucky was more than uncomfortable for him. The teachers had all put a few more eyes on him and he felt like he was being watched almost the whole time. While he listened to the others talking, he kept an eye out for the boy he saw after a few minutes with another boy and a girl. And what took his breath away was that Peter was wearing his much too big jacket and looked outrageously cute. Without thinking about it, Tony walked up to the boy, ignoring that his friends were silent and watched him. After a short time Peter looked up and smiled softly, raised his hand and waved briefly before Tony stood right in front of him.

First he just stared at the little one, then opened his mouth and closed it again until he remembered why he came here. "My jacket."

"O-oh, yeah, right, sorry about that." Peter was about to take them off when Tony took the hem of the jacket in his hands and tightened it more.

"No, don't. It looks really good on you, makes you even sweeter," murmured Tony softly, just looking at his chest.

"Um... Thanks? I can give them back to you after dinner tonight, though. I mean-" When Tony looked up, he saw Peter biting his lower lip uncomfortably.

"You can keep them." The teenager smiled slightly, then nodded again, let his hands slide off the jacket, turned around and went back to his idiot friends, who all grinned at him knowingly. "One word and the next nose's broken."

"Since when?" Steve asked quietly, nodding towards Peter, who was giggling around with his friends.

"Since when what? Since when am I in love? Since when do I want to turn my whole life upside down for this one person? Since when would I do anything for that one person? Holy shit!" Tony angrily ran his fingers into his hair and ripped it. "I've been so fucking in love and I have been ever since I first saw him..." Unintentionally a tear of desperation rolled down his cheek as he squeezed his eyes to avoid the glances of his friends.

"Actually, I was going to ask you, since when are you into guys too, but it's probably not important. Come here." Steve then opened his arms and pulled his old friend into them, then held him tight. Tony put his head on Steve's shoulder and sighed deeply.

"It's okay, Stark," mumbled Bucky after a short while, before carefully putting his hand on Tony's back.

Tony then tore himself away from them, straightened his clothes, wiped away his tears and put on a smile. "Whatever, boys. Class is about to start, we should go inside, don't you think?" He didn't even wait for an answer, he immediately went into the school and to his locker to get his new books. As he turned around and walked on, a small figure suddenly stood in front of him, looking worried.

"Are you okay, Tony? I just.. saw you.. with the blond guy. You looked sad. Is it because of the jacket? Does it mean anything to you? Do you want it back?" Peter's eyes radiated such warmth and such concern for nothing. Tony felt bad that Peter thought it was his fault. Even if it was, but he didn't want him to think it was. He shook his head.

"No. It makes me happy that you're wearing mine. It's just... nothing." The taller one leaned his side against the lockers, looking down with a would-be cool look at the boy, who pressed his lips together, shook his head and flinched slightly when the bell rang. "Don't you want to go to class?"

"I'd rather talk to you. You're not well, something makes you sad...", Peter said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and panting discontentedly.

In the corner of his eye, Tony noticed Bucky and Steve walking past him, smiling softly and winking at him. They really could never stop. Deep inside, Tony wanted to prove something to them, just kiss the boy, but when he looked into the dark brown round eyes, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Shall we go to the library? Talk?", asked the younger one quietly, pulled gently on his sleeve and then went with his neighbour into the room of books. Once there, Peter sat down with Tony at a table that was a bit more private and then looked at him gently. "I haven't known you long. In fact, yesterday was the first time we spoke. But... I feel like I've known you for years, it's weird. And I just want you to be happy... that you know that you can talk to me when something's wrong.. And you can even come over to me anytime.. We could sit in my room and do something. Play games or talk or just lie on my bed and... It sounds crazy, sorry."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all, it's rather nice. I'd love to come to your house sometimes and do stuff like that. Or invite you over to my place. You know, Peter, I like you. I really like you a lot and that scares me a bit," confessed Tony with an insecure smile on his lips. Peter struggled with himself for a few seconds, but then smiled and nodded in agreement at him.

"If you're coming for dinner tonight, we can go to my room afterwards.. if you want?"

Tony nodded quickly, maybe even a bit too quickly.

Tony smiled slightly at the unfamiliar man as he took off his backpack and put it on his lap as he sat in the Parkers' car. His friends, who were waiting for the bus as usual, looked at him in confusion and then grinned a little. He couldn't even remember when the last time was when he was picked up from school in a car and apparently you could see it in his face because Peter, who was sitting next to him, was smiling happily at him and if Tony was honest, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"So, Tony, I heard you're coming over for dinner later?", asked Mr. Parker him after a short time in which Tony and the boy were just looking at each other smiling.

The teenager looked up quickly and nodded at the man. "Yes sir, that's right. Um... thanks again for picking me up and, of course, for the dinner later."

"Wow, easy, boy. No problem. I'd really do anything to thank you for bringing my boy home. I still can't forgive myself." With clenched lips, the man kept driving, only looking back through the rearview mirror once in a while.

"Ben it wasn't your fault, okay? Your boss was giving you trouble again, you couldn't help it. I was safe with Tony, he even gave me his jacket." Peter talked about Tony as if he was head over heels in love with him, as if he wasn't even there right now and Tony only noticed much too late that he was grinning up to his ears.

"You're welcome, little lemon," muttered he with a smile, placing his hand delicately on Peter's knee, who widened his eyes a little, but then wrapped both his hands around Tony's wrist and smiled sweetly at him.

"'Little lemon,' sweet... Look, Pete, he even has a nickname for you already. I think you're gonna be great friends," said Ben as he rounded the last corner and pulled into the Parkers' parking lot. "All right, guys, get out and get in. May should have dinner ready by now."

"Oh eat already? I was counting on tonight... um, yeah, okay, well, then now." Tony scratched the back of his head slightly, then got out of the car with Peter and Ben and went into the house behind them, where it already smelled wonderfully of food.

"We're more like those people who eat lunch instead of dinner, so don't be surprised. I hope you don't mind," Peter asked the taller one quietly, looked up at him and seemed a bit anxious. He was apparently panicking that Tony maybe leave because he might not be hungry.

"And we talk about dinner all the time." Tony laughed briefly, then put his arm around Peter's shoulder and walked into the dining room with him. "No, that's okay, I'm hungry anyway."

The room wasn't really large, but therefore totally cosy and the brown, long table that was standing there seemed to have already gone through some moves. The chairs seemed to be comfortable, Peter also immediately dropped on one and knocked on the chair next to him, indicating to Tony to sit down as well, which he did directly. After a short time the woman from last night entered the room with a pot in her hands, which she placed on the table in front of Peter and Tony. May smiled happily at Tony, greeted him very briefly and then sat down on the chairs opposite of them with Ben.

"So Tony, how you doing, my boy? Why don't you get something to eat, come on. Have as much as you want." May took the big spoon and filled Tony's plate so that he thanked her overburdened and looked at Peter, who also put something on his own and started eating.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Tony smiled broadly, kept peeking over at Peter, eating carefully and full of manners.

Suddenly it became quiet in the room and the two boys looked up in wonder. May had a satisfied smile on her lips, exchanged a few glances with her husband, who nodded knowingly and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.

"Peter, my boy... Tony look at you like you're his entire world..", recognized she warmly, as warmly as Tony's cheeks after he had noticed how he had been staring at the boy the whole time.

"T-That's not true at all!" Tony tried to talk his way out, his cheeks should be as red as strawberries.

Peter's eyes fell on Tony's plate and he hesitated briefly before opening his mouth and quietly asked if he was finished and if they wanted to go to his room. He nodded quickly, apologized to the adults and then went upstairs behind Peter.

Tony tensed as he sat unsteadily on the edge of Peter's bed. The boy himself, meanwhile, grabbed all his dirty laundry off the floor and tossed it into some corner before scratching the back of his head in shame.

"I'm sorry.. about.. you know. I forgot to clean up..." Peter shyly clasped his hands in front of him and rocked back and forth unsteadily while he smiled slightly.

"That's okay. At least your room can still be considered as a room." A soft laugh escaped his throat and a moment later two brown eyes looked at him, squinted a bit because he had to grin too.

"Yours that bad?" The boy asked, tilting his head and grinning broadly.

"Oh darling, you have no idea. My room resembles a jungle and to be honest, I don't really feel like changing anything about it." Tony shrugged his shoulders indifferently, before he slid a little to the side to make room for the other, who now wanted to sit down on the bed as well. Unlike Tony, however, he crawled back to the wall, against he leaned with a smile.

"You don't have to sit there like that... Come here." Peter lightly tapped the mattress beside him with the flat of his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, the older one took a seat beside him.

He made himself a little more comfortable before looking down at the boy with a smile. Just a little, they were almost at eye level as they sat there like that. Peter bit his lower lip briefly and batted his eyelashes quickly as he tried to tear his gaze away from the other. Silence fell between them and when Tony realized that Peter would not be looking at him anytime soon, he gently took his chin with two fingers and delicately turned his head in his direction. His smile fell easily, so captivated was he by the eyes in front of him.

"So.. You gonna kiss me.. or?" Peter murmured softly as he got closer and closer to the teenager. Along the way, he tried to read the other's body language so as not to have misinterpreted anything.

"So you want me to kiss you?" Tony asked in a somber voice before carefully sliding his hand up Peter's leg to his hip to pull him even closer. "I mean.. we're both boys and..–"

"I don't care. Doesn't matter. I want it, kiss me." He took it in his own hands now and pulled Tony close so he could feel the other's breath on his lip. "Kiss me..."

Tony opened his mouth in surprise, clawing deeper with his fingers into flesh beneath him before making a tortured sound and placing his lips on Peter's. He wasn't sure if that had been the boy's first kiss, but instead of asking, he just pressed his lips to the ones in front of him again. Peter ran his delicate fingers into Tony's hair and tugged lightly on them, so he was separated from the younger one with parted lips.

"Wow..."

"Wow....."

"Um. Can we just... lie here a bit now? And do nothing? While Holding hands?"

"Yes.. Yes we can."

• T H E E N D •

Thank u for reading c:

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #implied stucky #implied ex-pepperony

29 notes · View notes

rikumorimachisgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Seal the Deal

Characters: Bokuto x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,848

Author's note: So, I haven't written in a long time and I know I'm kinda rusty. Please bear with me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!! and the characters, but I own the plot for this fic.

'Congratulations! You have been selected as one of the winners in the Bouncing Ball Corp's Monster Generation giveaway. A limited-edition Nendoroid and a special surprise will arrive at your delivery address. Please confirm if you are available to receive this tomorrow by responding to this message. Thank you.'

You must've read the text message over a hundred times in the last twenty-four hours, but it still made your heart skip a beat. Setting your phone down, you stood up and tried to straighten up the flat that you had just moved into last month. It wasn't much - a cozy one-bedroom apartment with a small living area, which usually doubled as your dining area on days when you could eat a nice meal at home. It certainly was a far cry from the lavish three-bedroom apartment you once shared with your ex-boyfriend, but at least it was easier to clean.

Your ex-boyfriend - the wild, and oh-so-adorable big baby you'd loved since high school, the same one who broke your heart a few months back when he couldn't choose between you and the sport he loves, and the reason you sent in several entries to the Bouncing Ball Corp's giveaway. You sighed. If your friends found out you'd won a limited edition Nendoroid of that same person they had worked so hard to help you get over, you knew you'd be done for. But how exactly does one get over the sweet summer storm that is Kotaro Bokuto? And besides, you thought, at least a Nendoroid won't leave you unless you throw it out.

** Ding-dong **

The sound of your doorbell snapped you back to your senses. "Just a minute," you called out as you quickly tied your hair and hurried to the door in an oversized sweater and shorts. You could feel your heart beat faster at the thought that your precious Nendoroid was within reach. 'Oh, and the text message said there was a special surprise, too,' you thought quietly. Maybe, if you were lucky, you'll also get his signed jersey. That wouldn't be so bad, you thought again as you unlocked the door and pulled it open.

You gasped, as the person waiting right outside the door greeted you with the warmest smile and his signature line.

"Hey, hey, he -," he paused halfway through upon seeing you. "Y/N-chan?"

Hearing him say your name almost made you cry. You had missed how he always managed to make it sound so beautiful. You also missed his naughty smirk that usually came with calling your name. As you gazed at your reflection in his golden eyes, you wondered if - like you - this beautiful man thought of you, too. You had no idea how long you've been looking at each other, but it wasn't until you heard your neighbor's baby crying that you both shook yourselves out of your reverie.

"Oh, uh. Did you need anything?" You asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Yes, I'm here to personally deliver the prize from Kenma. Kuroo asked to go, and this was the address he gave…," your ex-boyfriend said as he fumbled over his phone, looking for the exact message his friend has given. Glancing back and forth his phone and the number on the door, he scratched the back of his head. "See, it says 2404 -"

"Yes, Bokuto-san, I won the contest," you finally admitted, as you felt a blush slowly creep up your cheeks.

"You did?" He flashed you a dazzling smile, his eyes sparkled and you looked away. When he noticed your eyes move to the paper bag he was carrying, he cleared his throat. "Uh… yeah, this is for you…"

"Uh, thanks," you replied shyly, as you took the paper bag containing the Nendoroid of the very same person you were talking to now. Your gaze darted from his handsome face to the suddenly empty hall outside your flat, and you could tell he was feeling just as awkward. "So, uh…"

"So, uh, this is where you moved to?" He asked as he took a step forward to peek inside your humble abode.

"Uh-huh," you replied. "I-I'd invite you in, but…"

"Don't mind if I do," he said, stepping inside your pad. Even with his back facing you, you could tell that he was surveying your space, and you felt more and more flustered by the minute. "You have a microwave. I need to get me one of those."

"You have a microwave, Bokuto-san. It's top-of-the-line, and it was working fine when I moved out," you quipped, as you watched him from behind.

"Was it? Then I must've destroyed it the other day when I tried to use it to heat water," he said casually, as he looked around your pad some more.

"Your couch looks comfortable. I should probably buy one for my bedroom."

"What's wrong with the sectional? If I remember correctly, you had it customized by Fendi," you retorted.

"Did I? There must've been a reason I did, but I can't remember," he muttered, turning his attention to the wall. "Oh, this is a nice painting. I need one of these."

"That's just a painting I bought at a trift shop," you said, cocking an eyebrow at your tall ex-lover. "You have original Murukamis on your walls, Bokuto-san. We bought three of them in the fundraiser that Kuroo hosted."

"Oh. Of course," he sighed. "It's just that… well, your place is -"

"Small?"

"No, it's not that," he responded, as he gazed upward as if trying to find the right word.

"Tiny? Minuscule? Compact?"

"Hey, those all mean the same thing," he whined before plopping down on your couch. You quietly watched as he leaned back and stretched out his legs, trying hard not to bump the coffee table, but he still managed to do so. Something about the scene before you were so endearing, you found yourself smiling before you could stop yourself. And right about that time, your dashing ex-lover happened to look at you and smile back. Lifting his hand out to you, he said, "I'm just saying your new place sorta gives off a certain kind of vibe, you know."

Raising an eyebrow, you stared at his hand and thought twice about taking it. It wasn't like you never held hands before, but now that you've broken up, it all seems so weird.

But you wanted to take it. Oh, how you've imagined holding his hand a thousand times since you broke up, so just before he pulled away, you moved forward to grab it, and fell on his lap in the process. As you struggled to stand up, the dashing MSBY Outside Hitter put his arm around your waist to keep you from budging. "Ah, now this scene looks awfully familiar."

"Stop it, Bokuto-san," you said, hitting him on the chest so he could loosen his grip on you a little bit.

"Oh, but don't you think seeing each other after several months is fate?"

"More like a certain capitalist's underhanded scheme," you retorted, as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

"Just… just let me hold you a little longer, Y/N-chan… please?"

You stopped squirming as you listened to his silent plea, and you slowly turned your eyes met his. "Bokuto-san…"

"You could do better than that," he said, as he lifted one hand and traced the side of your face with his long fingers. "I… I missed you, Y/N-chan. I know this was all my fault, I just didn't think you'd up and leave."

"That's what usually happens when you say you love your career more than your girlfriend, Kotaro," you managed to reply, as you thought back to that fateful night when you had come home from attending another one of your friends' wedding stag because he had practice. He was watching one of their games against the Adlers, paying close attention to Ushijima and Kageyama's quick attacks when you sat beside him and recounted how beautiful the ceremony was and how much more fun it would've been if he had attended it with you. He'd usually humor you - asking you to tell him what you liked best about it, how the food was, and listen intently to what you had to say - but lately, he'd neither had the patience not the drive to hear you out and on that night, you weren't having it either. After your stories were met with silence, you decided enough was enough. And on that same evening, you called your old roommate to let her know you were staying over.

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N-chan. I was under a lot of pressure before," he said, drawing you away from your thoughts. "I was under a lot of pressure. You knew a lot was riding on winning the championships."

As he looked at your blank expression, he huffed and pouted. "I know, I know… I could've chased after you - and believe me, I wanted to, but… uh..," he trailed off.

"But I wasn't your priority," you deadpanned.

"To be honest, I thought you'd come back the next day, and when you didn't…"

"You got angry and thought you shouldn't come after me?"

"No… more like I thought you'd come back the day after or the day after that, and before I realized it, so much time has passed and it was too late to chase after you…"

"So you decided not to?" You watched as he nodded silently, admitting defeat, and you sighed. If this were someone else, you would easily doubt what he said was true, but this guy wouldn't lie to you if his life depended on it. The tightness you had felt in your chest started to ease up, and rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue. "That's so like you, Bokuto-san."

"And there's no one else but you for me, Y/N-chan," he replied, holding you steady in his arms. "So, what do you say, do you think you can give me another shot at this?"

"At what exactly?"

"At this," he gestured to the both of you. "At us. Please? I'll be a better boyfriend. I'll attend all the parties you want to go to, or I'll listen to whatever you want to say to me - even when you repeat it several times, I'll do whatever you want, Y/N-chan, so please…"

You could feel your heart melt as he pleaded with you, and you silently scolded yourself at having your resolve crushed so easily. You knew your friends were probably not going to be happy, but you also knew no one else would do for you.

"Y/N-chan?"

You sighed and turned your attention back to him. "I suppose you are cuter than the Nendoroid," you said haughtily.

"So, will you date me again?"

"As long as you promise I'm your priority from now on."

He squeezed you to his chest and squealed. "You don't need to worry because you're the only one that matters," he said before his lips met yours to seal the deal.

The end.

#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotarou #iris writes #my first fic in months #i'm sure this sucks #please be kind

43 notes · View notes

denqis · 5 years ago

Text

friends with benefits x bakubros

this is x fem! reader

warnings: smut, 18+, choking, unprotected sex

kaminari denki

- you and denki have known each other since kindergarten

- you never thought of him as anything but a good childhood friend

- you used to hang out a lot together, getting drunk

- you usually talked a lot about sex, sexual preferences, your kinks etc.

- you get very horny when you're drunk

- every time the topic would come up, he'd just listen and watch with risen brows and a little smirk

- you were so kinky, he liked it

- then, at kirishima's birthday party the two of you constantly stole glances

- you didn't know what was going on, you suddenly felt butterflies everywhere when you looked at him

- as the night progressed you sat closer and closer to him

- all of the sudden you felt his hand on your thigh, butterflies literally exploding in your stomach

- he was very careful at first, unsure of what to do

- but then you put your hand on top of his and he knew

- one hand was intertwined with yours while the other crept closer and closer to your core, drawing circles on your inner thigh

- you felt kiri's stare on you and felt really embarrassed, this was a guy you had known since you can remember

- the night neared it's end and you were one of the last two leaving

- your dad picked both of you up, you getting in in front, him right behind you

- it was awkward, until you suddenly felt his hand reaching through the small opening between door and seat

- you held hands the whole ride home until he got dropped off

- you lived two blocks from each other

- you were super tired and got ready for bed, when he called

- the call was very very awkward because you didn't know what to do

- in the end you climbed through a window and ran to his place

- he greeted you with a hungry kiss

- as soon as you were in his room he continued kissing you, y'all made out for a solid five minutes

- suddenly he lifted you up, making you squeal

- he dropped you onto his bed where he continued kissing you

- "shit, you kiss so good?"

- he was breathless and you just continued kissing him, a sly smile on your face

- he knew you were a virgin and he knew you didn't feel confident in your body from all the drunk deep talk

- he explored your body and praised it

- "you're so hot."

- dry humps you and you FEEL it

- he then continues exploring your body, massaging your tits and choking you

- you lean into his touch, "more"

- he tightens his grip, a smirk on his face

- "more.."

- he fucked you, hard

- it was amazing, he knew what you wanted and how you liked it

- he wanted you to sleep over at his but since you climbed through the damn window you had to return home

- y'all meet up frequently to fuck

- exchanging knowing glances at school, during class

- sneaky touches in gym class

- this is basically my personal experience but pssh

kirishima eijirou

- you and eiji hit it off almost immediately after getting into ua

- you once accidentally stepped into the boy's bathroom

- ok fine it was a dare from the other girls and they guaranteed you that no one would be in there

- well, they were wrong

- you went in there in just an oversized shirt and panties, your basic sleeping attire

- that's just how the girls hung out

- the shirt was white and had your favorite pokemon printed on it

- just your luck, kirishima was in there too

- the boy takes steaming hot baths

- the steam immediately making your shirt cling to your body

- "y/n?!"

- oh my god this was so embarrassing, he had free vision on your nipples

- but he's a gentleman so he just stared at the floor, asking you why in the world you were there in the first place

- "i got lost.."

- you bit your lip, kirishima's muscles were deliciously defined and bulky

- you took a few steps towards him, admiring his build

- he visibly shivered and stared right into your eyes

- "what are you doing?"

- he was whispering and it was so god damn hot

- "enjoying the view?"

- you were unusually bold but if you were being honest, he had caught your eyes long before

- you'd be lying if you hadn't fantasized about him dominating you

- "we shouldn't be doing this, what if someone walks in?"

- he was panicking, but once his eyes caught your hard nipples his primal instincts took over

- "we're not doing anything though?"

- you played innocent and he was loving it

- "not yet anyways."

- he had you against a wall and started kissing down your neck, his huge hands playing with your boobs and flicking your nipples

- you were about to moan when his lips latched onto yours

- "you brought this upon yourself."

- you completely forgot about the girls waiting for you to return and just melted into his touch

- i don't think kiri could hide the fact that you've had sex

- so yeah the whole squad knows by the end of the week

- you text him a lot, wanting more and he always gets this smile and blush that gives it away

- bakugou is so annoyed by it

- "i bet that she'd be all over me too."

- but you aren't

- you love kirishima's body and god his stroke game and oral skills are to die for

- you're awfully obvious that something's going on

- you almost meet daily at this point

- i feel like he's quick to harbor feelings tho

- so unless you want your fuck-buddy to turn into your boyfriend i don't think he'd stick around for long

- it'd hurt him too much

sero hanta

- bitch

- this boy is so touch-deprived

- you knew, the whole class knew

- but he never dared to come onto anyone, let alone you

- you were best friends and he trusted you with everything

- one night you showed up at his room, sobbing

- he knew why, you had planned on confessing to your crush that day

- apparently he had rejected you

- he opened his door and you jumped into his arms, his face buried between your boobs

- "hanta.."

- you were miserable, sobbing but somehow the scent of his hair and his incredibly strong grip around your thighs calmed you down

- you leaned back a bit, sniffling and looking down on his blushed cheeks

- "y/n, i'll always be here for you."

- he tried to remain calm but deep down he just tried to prevent a boner from popping at such a inconvenient time

- you wanted to sleep over, he was okay with it

- you had slept over a countless amount of times already

- "you want the hammock or my bed?"

- "can we sleep together?"

- he almost choked, you didn't mean it like that, surely

- "sure!"

- he laid down, breathing calmly

- until you crawled on top of his chest, blushed a deep red

- "i.. haven't touched myself in weeks."

- ok???? his heart almost dropped out of his ass

- "could you?"

- you took his hand and guided it down your pants

- "we really shouldn't y/n."

- "are you going to reject me too? am i that disgusting?"

- holy fuck that broke his heart

- he sits up and pulls you in for the most loving kiss ever

- "you're great."

- he flips you over and finally lets loose

- he fingered you for HOURS, he had you screaming his name

- if it wasn't for his tape across your mouth the whole dorm would've known

- hammers into you relentlessly

- after that night he's scared that you won't be able to return to how you were before

- but both of you handled it surprisingly well

- "thanks for the other day."

- both of you are too shy to directly ask for a second time but if there's enough tension and maybe weed/alcohol i'm sure something is to happen again

bakugou katsuki

- you had been clashing with him for a long time

- every time he'd insult you or your friends you'd talk back at him

- he had threatened to beat you up so many times but never actually went through with it

- today was just like the other days, shoto said something and bakugou just had to comment on it

- "oh someone suffers from small dick syndrome? how unfortunate."

- "shut the fuck up before-"

- "before what? you bash my face in?"

- you rolled your eyes and focused on the work in front of you

- you were about to leave when bakugou jumped up and slammed you against a wall

- your lungs almost collapsed from the impact as you gasped for air

- "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

- he stared at you, not saying anything

- his fiery stare made you blush, up close he was really really good looking

- "fucking bitch."

- he sneered and let you go

- usually you'd fire back an insult at him but his caramel scent and face still clouded your mind

- that night you couldn't fall asleep for various reasons and decided to take a stroll around campus

- "what are you doing here?"

- his deep, raspy voice came from the kitchen and your core clenched at the sound

- you shouldn't be like that, you couldn't just let him win you over like that

- "i asked you something didn't i?!"

- his voice suddenly was right at your ear, sending shivers down your entire body

- he took your hair into his hand and pulled your head back

- the strain on your neck made you hiss

- "not so tough now, huh?"

- his free hand wrapped around your throat as his body pressed you against the nearest wall

- you gasped when you felt his erection press against your ass

- "bakugou, stop it. i'll kill you."

- your voice was squeaky and strained

- he chuckled and roamed his hands down your backside, toying with the hem of your joggers

- "go on, try and kill me."

- two of his fingers rubbed over your clothed slit roughly, elicting a low moan

- "fuck bakugou."

- "that's more like it, no, brat?"

- he roughly turned you around and ripped your joggers down your legs in another swift movement

- heat shot to your cheeks, you weren't wearing any panties and your light grey pants already showed your wetness

- "so you're enjoying this?"

- he just took your left leg and wrapped it around his waist, plunging two fingers at once in

- you cried out and threw your head back

- "shut the fuck up, we don't want to wake anyone up."

- he scissored his fingers a few times and curled them up against your g-spot

- you came all over his fingers

- "holy shit, bakugou more."

- he's wearing the cockiest smile ever

- and when he gets out his hard cock you just can't help but moan out loudly

- "what was that again about my cock being small?"

- he didn't hesitate and pushed into you, burying himself to the hilt

- you were trying your best to stay quiet but as soon as he started moving you lost it

- you were a moaning, whimpering mess

- "i told you to shut up."

- your eyes are glassy and your mouth hangs wide open and he suddenly feels so drawn to kissing you, so he just does

- you were surprised but hungrily kissed back

- he came inside and you wanted to kill him, but once he pulled out and took a step back you fell to the floor

- "if you're always this wrecked after one round i don't think we can carry on doing this, princess."

- he carries you to your room aw

- after sex bakugou is surprisingly soft

- both of you got addicted to each other after this ngl

- you loved having no strings attached

271 notes · View notes

superkatesi · 6 years ago

Text

What Happens in Suffolk Stays in Suffolk

Title: What happens in Suffolk stays in Suffolk // Ed Sheeran Fanfiction, mature content

Authors: @famousconfessions and @superkatesi

Rating: NC-17

Author’s Note: Another chapter of our story with @famousconfessions . Warning: lots of smut and teasing. Enjoy it and leave your feedback.❤️

I actually hated long car rides... but not today. Because for once I wasn't alone. Ed sat right next to me, driving, singing, talking to me and just keeping me entertained on the almost 3 hour- long car ride to his hometown Suffolk. Still, I'd rather stayed on this sofa with him, cuddling and maybe going in for round two, but that had to wait. Of course, he wouldn't miss his dad’s birthday party and I definitely understood that. I loved his family as much as mine so I knew how important parties like these were to him. Plus, we got to catch up on the drive to his parents house. He told me everything about his tour, I told him what happened at home and at my job while he was gone. But right now it was quiet, well, except for Ed humming along the song on the radio and I just watched him. I still couldn't believe that he was back... I was definitely the luckiest girl in the whole world. “Whattt?”, he suddenly asked, looking at me and smiling. “Nothing! Am I not allowed to look at you? I mean, I need to make use of the fact that you're here because that's not all too often”, I teased, sticking my tongue out. “When did you become so cheeky? Looks like you need a good spanking, huh?”, he looked at me for a second before putting his eyes back on the road and I swallowed hard. I knew he was joking but fuck... what a thought. It made me want to jump on him again but, well... bad timing. Probably, I should not think about something like that because we'd spend the weekend at his parents house and we should keep our hands off each other...

We stopped by a nice little coffeeshop in the middle of nowhere. We needed to stretch our legs and get some caffeine after an hour and a half of our trip. “Do you want me to grab something for you, love?”, Ed asked me, while putting on in his dark blue cap and fixing his round glasses. “Maybe a muffin? Honestly, I’m not very hungry”, I answered checking my email. “A muffin?”, I heard a boyish grin in his voice : “You are my little muffin”, he exclaimed and kissed my nose. Ed got off the car and went coffee-hunting. I looked at him while he was going away...: “This man drives me crazy. No matter what...His love is a huge cotton candy cloud and I want to spend my life lying on it ”. I looked in the mirror: “Damn, my dark circles are getting bigger and bigger”. On the one hand, I was hoping to get my beauty sleep at Ed’s parents house, on the other one, I was dying to spend my night teasing this boy’s body and savor our moments. “Get out of the car, kitten. I’ve got something yummy for you”. I didn’t have another option but to leave the car. I saw him holding a bag containing a giant chocolate muffin. I felt like a child back then. Ed was sipping on coffee and I noticed him lighting a cigarette. Though he gave up smoking, when he’s in Suffolk, he dives into the memories of his childhood and teen years, his ups and downs. And a cigarette or two isn’t an exception while staying here. He was staring at the sky, he looked like the happiest human being on Earth. I came up to him and gave him the biggest squeeze in the world. “I love you, Teddy”, I murmured. He smelled like coffee with cinnamon, fresh pastry, tobacco and there was something incredibly attracting about this smell. “I love you too”, he answered, without looking at me but I felt a warm smile in his voice. “It’s time to go. We don’t want to be late and skip all the cocktails, do we?”, he winked at me and headed to the car. “To be honest, I'd rather go back home right now and-”... “Don't say it”, he cut me off, still smiling and I couldn't help but smile back at him. He knew exactly what I wanted to say and now I knew that he felt the exact same way. I wasn't the only one who would've rather stayed on the sofa... or in the bed. Or the shower. Or the bathtub. Or the kitchen table. Anywhere. It didn't matter. But this screamed for some teasing, even if I would torture myself with it. It was just so much fun. I shrugged my shoulders, tried to look as innocent as I possibly could, before I got back in the car. We had another 1 1/2 hours in front of us and I was kinda glad about that, because that meant another 1 1/2 hours of having Ed all to myself. I knew I had to share him with his family once we'd arrive and that was fine, but... at the same time I didn't want to share him. This boy drove me crazy and being away from him had made it even worse.

“By the way... will Ellie be there?”, Ellie was his great cousin, I think, and I didn't like her at all, because all she did was trying to get her hands on him and I was having none of that. I was fine sharing him with his parents, but not with that bod. “Huh? Don't know, love, why?”, god he was so oblivious. Maybe it was because he didn't consider himself attractive, so most of the time he didn't notice when someone was flirting with him, but I saw her intentions from the moment I've met her. “Nevermind”, maybe she wasn't even invited and wouldn't be a problem. At least, I hoped so.

The rest of the drive was uneventful, we just talked some more and it was getting harder and harder not to touch him. When we finally pulled up on the driveway of his parents house I couldn't help but pull him in for a passionate kiss, as soon as he parked the car. In an instant, I felt his hands on my thigh and the other one on my neck, pulling me closer to him. Fuck, this kiss made me feel things and got my body to go crazy again, but then he let go of me. He licked his lips, smiling, before saying: “We should really get in, baby girl. Think about the cocktails”, he winked at me and I was once again shaking my head at his teasing self. Right now I didn't care about fucking cocktails at all, but we needed to be responsible adults. I sighed, taking a deep breath, before getting out of the car... and a second later the family reunion began.

We entered the house in which Ed’s grown up. There was definitely something nostalgic about it. His parents are the sweetest and the most supportive people in the world. His mum was making last preparations in the kitchen, dad was talking to Matt, but the majority of the guests were already in the garden. “Hey mate, I was hoping that you got lost somewhere, so I can get all the beer”, Matt giggled and pulled Ed in for a hug. “Not this time, mug”, Ed chuckled and pinched Matt’s arm slightly. We talked altogether for a while but it was the moment to go, everybody was dying to get this party started . It was the coziest dinner in the world. We spent that evening talking, drinking, dancing and singing. When it got dark Ed turned on the garden lights and it seemed as if we were surrounded by hundreds of fireflies. Everybody was so chill and talkative. After finishing my wild dance to “Happy” by Pharrell with one of his aunties, I got another cocktail and jumped on Ed’s lap. “Are you having fun, babe?”, he smiled and wrapped his hands around my waist. Instead of answering I started wiggling my hips along the beat of a new song. “Someone is getting naughty tonight, huh?”, he whispered in my ear. At that moment I felt his hands travelling from my waist to my hips and thighs. All the guests were so engrossed into the celebration that no one paid attention to our little game. My hips kept making these delicious movements that couldn’t left him indifferent. I started feeling his growing interest through his denim and the fabric of my summer floral dress. “Want to run away with you, love”, he kept murmuring. But I had a plan, I took something from the pocket of my dress and hid it in the chest pocket of his plaid. He looked at me puzzled but without uttering a single word I jumped from his lap and went straight forward to the greenhouse. I few seconds later I heard his steps following me. “Smart boy, he got the signal and probably found my panties in his pocket”, I thought to myself.

“I've been gone for to long, haven't I?”, I heard his voice and biting my lip I turned around to face him. I couldn't hide the cheeky smile that spread across my face but that was gone the second I saw him standing there. He looked serious, but I saw that glow in his eyes that told me he wasn't angry or anything... but he was definitely into playing along to that game I've started. My panties were in his hand, hanging from his fingers and now he couldn't help but smile. “I think you've lost something... but I guess you don't want them back, do you, love?”, his raspy voice gave me goosebumps and it made me want to rip his clothes off right now. But instead, I shook my head and watched as he shoved the fabric in the back pocket of his jeans. “Good! So, are you gonna be a good girl, now?”, he asked, taking a few steps towards me. He now stood right in front of me, I could feel the warmth of his body, my back squeezed into the work bench behind me... but he didn't touch me and that really drove me crazy. I just stood there, looking into his deep blue eyes, taking steady breaths... when he suddenly grabbed me and turned me around. I gasped, because I didn't expect that to happen which turned into a loud moan, when I felt him press into me. There was way too much fabric between us but it was enough to make me want more. My hands grabbed the work bench for support, as he moved against me, his hands finding their way under my dress, up my thighs and finally between my legs. For a second I thought I'd drop to my knees, because they sure felt like jelly. I was weak, he was my fucking kryptonite. “Ohh, Teddy”, was all I could get out, leaning into him. My heart was pounding in my chest, my body felt like it was electrified as his fingers found my soft spot. It just felt so good that I completely lost myself in the sensation when he suddenly stopped. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, whispered: “Later, babe” into my ear and stepped away. My gaze met his, he winked at me and then left the greenhouse. He did NOT just do that.

He left me standing there with my aching body. That second, when he touched the right button .... I wanted him to put these amazing fingers deep inside of me and fuck me to death. I wanted to scream and see fireworks in front of my eyes. But there I was, standing all alone. That’s not fucking right. I was going to make him beg for mercy. I went back to the dance floor. Ed was bouncing to his favorite songs and rapping along. What a look...Teddy was all sweaty with chest hair peaking through his flannel, his curls plastered to his forehead. I wanted to ride him so badly, I wanted to inhale his boyish smell and give him the most passionate kiss on Earth. I felt like my juices were running down my thighs cause I was still with no panties and craving for more. I started dancing and with every movement I got closer to him, my eyes met his and I gave him the most sensual look I was able to. “Hi, Teddy”, I can recognize that voice from thousands.. it was his cousin — Ellie. I didn’t like her much and it was mutual. She put her filthy arms around his neck and started moving her body along. What the fuck was going on?? I couldn’t stand it and went for another drink. It was intolerable for me to watch someone putting their hands on my man. I was ready to burn this town. But I had something more interesting in mind.

Who the fuck did she think she was? She knew that we were together but she didn’t seem to respect that at all. I didn’t have anything against other girls talking to him. Not at all. But I couldn’t stand it when they were all over him, touching him, thinking they could really get anywhere. I trusted Ed completely, but I didn’t trust these girls, especially not Ellie. Ed and I have been together for three years and she didn’t give up until now.

I bit my lip, chugging down another shot of Tequila and watching how her hands were trailing down his chest, her hips moving against his and I felt a tight knot in my stomach. She made me furious. And why the fuck didn’t he push her away? Why did he let her do that? I was fucking jealous and maybe that’s exactly what he wanted... or maybe he was just too drunk to realize what she was doing to him.

I grabbed another drink from the table, a glass of vodka-red bull, and made my way to the dance floor. It was still full, Suffolk people knew how to party, so I used the situation and pretended to be pushed when I got to Ellie and Ed. I dumped my drink all over Ellies shirt and started acting as if I was really sorry. “Ellie! Oh my god, I’m sooo sorry. Someone pushed me. Oh that gorgeous shirt is probably ruined now”, I cooed, pushing her away from him. “You should probably try to wash up and keep your hands off my man”, I wasn’t that friendly anymore now.

I’m an independent woman. I respected other girls but this time was completely different. And Ed, where was he looking at? He was ready to let this girl kiss him or whatever... I didn’t understand it! There were several waves of anger...I couldn’t stand it anymore and I decided to leave. I grabbed one of Ed’s cigarettes and one more shot of tequila. I went infront of the greenhouse where a couple of minutes ago we were ready to eat each other. I’m weak, I burst into tears. If he behaved like this in front of me, what was going on during the tour, after his gigs, when there were thousands of girls ready to do everything he wanted. Am I selfish? Am I possessive? Tear drops were rolling down my cheeks, I hated smoking but I wanted to harm myself.. I’m so pathetic... It was the end. I didn’t want to start a fight with Ellie or Ed. I was ready to leave. “I’m sorry”, he was standing there with his head down. I didn’t answer. I’ve turned away. “I couldn’t live like this. That’s enough, Ed. I’m done.”, I was devastated but trying to stay calm. “Darling, it was just a moment. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Do you want me to leave you? One word and I’ll do it without any hesitation”. I heard his voice trembling. I looked at him...it was dark but I swear, I saw tears in his eyes, his face was distorted with pain. “Yeah, just fuck off!”, I hissed at him but to be honest... I didn’t really mean it. Yes, I was mad at him but I didn’t want him to leave, especially since I could see that he cared about what happened. Maybe I overreacted. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact that I still missed him, even though he was here. God, I was so fucking childish. But I was so in love. “Okay...No! No, you know what? God, I just hate that fucking skank! And it just... I can't stand seeing her all over you like that. I'm not trying to be the annoying, jealous girlfriend here, really... but it was too much”, I said, wiping a tear from my cheek, as I looked at him. I felt bad seeing him like that, I hated to see him unhappy or sad and I was kinda surprised that this right here hit him like that. “I'm sorry. I didn't think. I... I promise it's not like that on tour. I'm hardly ever partying and even if I am, you know, I'm with my mates and there's just one thing on my mind. You. I swear!”, I believed him. I really did, but the images of him with Ellie didn't want to leave me. “I'm stupid and drunk and I know I don't deserve you. I mean... look at me...” Wait... what? I suddenly felt like a piece of shit for making a scene like that. Of course, he should've made clear that Ellie crossed a line, but he was drunk and I knew he didn't do that to hurt me. Not intentionally. “Stop! God, I'm an idiot", I sighed and walked up to him, taking his face in my hands. My thumbs brushed his cheeks and for a moment I just looked into his eyes. “Don't ever say that again, okay? It's not true. You're beautiful, inside and out... I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

I felt like a moron at that moment...but his tears...It was impossible to resist his lips. It was the purest pleasure. I bit his upper lip and tasted his tongue. I felt his regret on my lips. I know that he’s not like this, he’s my one and only. I’m ready to catch a grenade for him, I’m ready to do anything in the world for him. This sweet, indulging kiss lasted forever. Suddenly, I felt his hand grabbing one of my ass cheeks shyly. I moaned a bit encouraging him to go for it. All of the worries were gone. My fingers were playing with his scruff and his delicious curls. One sec and I’m up in the air wrapping my legs around his torso. His fingers were kneading my flesh and I was ready to dissolve in him. “Wait, love”, he said impatiently, : “We need to hide somewhere”, his voice sounded so raspy and sexy. He put me on the ground and we went to a bench in the darkest corner of the garden. I heard my heart beating and there was a feeling of excitement and sin. Suddenly, I found myself sitting on him. Somehow he managed to lower his jeans and started stroking his sweet cock. “Come on, love. We don’t want to be exposed , do we?”, he smirked and licked his pinkish lips. “I couldn't care less... let them see us, I don't care. Maybe Ellie will come to watch, so she can finally understand that you belong to me”, I mumbled, with a cheeky grin on my lips. As long as his parents wouldn't see what we were about to do here, I was totally okay with it. I watched him for a second, jerking himself off and fuck, that sight was extremely hot. It was mesmerizing seeing him touching himself, the way he grabbed his cock, the way he closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure. But then I stopped him because I was dying to make him feel good now. Maybe I wanted to make it up to him that I flipped out earlier... and I just needed to touch him. I replaced my hand with his, trailing my fingertips and nails down his length, before I kissed his lips. My thumb flicked over his shaft as I heard him moan into our passionate kiss. There just wasn't anything better than to make him feel this way... My lips soon found their way to his neck and I started to unbutton his plaid, my lips following my fingers, down his torso and I stopped right before his twitching cock. Hmm... it's been way too long since the last time I got a taste of that. I kissed my way around it, until I finally twirled my tongue around the top. He took a sharp breath and I felt him tense up, but that didn't stop me. I looked up at him as I licked his delicious length from the bottom all the way to the top, before taking him in completely, eagerly sucking his cock. I was starving. I needed to feel his plush head with a drop of precum and his shaft with intertwined veins in my mouth. I missed it.. I missed his deep moans, his tensed muscles and his hands in my hair. I was bobbing my head up and down, there was no way back. I heard music and people singing along but I heard Ed’s throaty groaning, as well. I put my fingers round this magic tool and started tugging it while kissing the most sensitive part of his body. “I’m close..ahhh..love..”, his words echoed in my ears. Honestly, I’d like to let this boy release and feel his body twitching but... I didn’t forget about him teasing me with his fingers. So I stopped, gave him the most fuckable look, fixed my dress and went to the house. Dear God, I hope, you forgive my mean soul. Later on, I was going to take this man to heaven but right now he deserved a lesson. Amen. I turned and beckoned him. It was time to finish this party and to finish my ginger boy off.

I felt kinda bad to play with him like that but he had it coming. He knew I would get my revenge when he left me in that fucking greenhouse... I looked back again, seeing him get up as I walked into the house. It was quiet, everyone was partying outside and I took my time climbing up the stairs, looking at the photos on the wall. There were a lot of family photos, Ed's parents, his brother, him as a kid and as a teen, the whole family together, the two brothers... there were also a few pictures of him on stage or holding different awards. I couldn't help but smile and feel proud of my boy, he was so talented and although he was so successful he was still a normal guy. Well... he was a fucking tease, but I could handle that.

I ended up in his room, which made me smile because the walls were still painted in a bright orange and the scribblings were also still there. It seemed like his parents didn't want to erase those memories and it was kinda cute. "Cute" was also the right word to describe the tiny bed, but hey, I loved to cuddle up to my boyfriend, so, sleeping in there shouldn't be a problem. If we would sleep at all... “There you are”, I heard a deep voice behind me and a second later I felt his presence behind me. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and it made me shiver. But I wasn't going to cave in just now and let him take the lead again. I still wasn't done. “Can we end this fucking game now?”, he sounded so impatient and I loved it. I chuckled, turned around to him and pushed him to the bed, where he laid down. He had his jeans back on and I could tell that it probably must've been painful for him... you could see that bulge from a mile away. “Why? I like playing with you. It's fun, innit?”, I shrugged my shoulders, before climbing on top of him, instantly starting to grind against him, because even I could barely take this anymore. I just wanted him to fuck me senseless.

“Fuck, no, it's not”, he hissed as he put his hands on my thighs, pulling up my dress and moving against me. “I can't take it anymore, love. I wanted to fuck you again since we got in my car. And then you started this thing and... for fucks sake”, he stopped his movements, grabbed me and all of a sudden we were standing again, in the same position as earlier in the greenhouse. He didn't even take the time to take off my dress or his clothes, I just heard him nestling on his belt and a second later I felt him inside of me. I gasped for air and a loud moan escaped my lips, as I held onto the bedsheets. This was pretty unexpected, but oh so good. “I’m going to get you off this time, love.. You’re gonna come so hard on this thirsty cock...”, he said in-between his heavy breathes. “I knew that you’d love this lil game.. you.. Sheeran”, I articulated while trying to keep our eye contact. “I bet, you still have my panties in your pocket, huh?”, I smirked at him and at that moment I felt his rock-hard cock hitting my most desperate wall. I couldn’t talk anymore, my speech turned into one deep moan. “They are, love, they are... ahhhh...”, he moaned when I tightened my pussy around him. “Teddy, I want you to come inside of me, want it to run down my thighs... want to feel you releasing in this wet girl”, I was bitting on his shoulder in order not to scream and I knew that these words would drive him wild. I was literally in the air, only his hands and his pleasure tool held me at the moment. I was about to crumble into thousands of pieces when I felt him stopped moving and just stood like this inside of me. I started contracting my walls and this pleasure of him stretching me out and not making a single move made me twisting as if I was on fire. “That’s my girl....Let your puss feel it...contract and relax... contract and relax...”, he kept giving me instructions while kissing my jaw line. I obeyed and began following his words. There was something incredibly hot about it. I knew that I wouldn’t last long. My muscles started tightening without any effort and I felt it coming. It was like a tsunami, there was just a black hole of sheer pleasure, I even heard myself moaning, bouncing and trembling on his throbbing flesh. Somewhere faraway, on the other side of this fuck road I heard his moan: “I can’t hold anymore, kitten...Gonna explode...deep... in this tight puss...”. His twitching cock brought me to another level of heaven-like pleasure and I melted in his arms.

I was glad he held me, because otherwise I'd probably dropped to the floor. My knees were made of jelly once again, especially when I heard his deep growl, that told me he was right there... at the same tame I felt his hot seed inside of me. It made me moan once again and my eyes fell shut, my head dropped to his shoulder, as he made a few last, deep, lazy thrusts. I flinched because it was so intense and I had the feeling that I was more sensitive because of all the teasing that had happened before. “You're amazing, love”, his voice was so quiet and soft and full of love that I feared my heart would explode any second. I couldn't be mad at him for long and today proofed that again. I just smiled at him, as he made me lie down on the bed. A second later he was beside me, pulling me in for a hug. My back was pressed to his chest and I could feel his heart race. He placed a few kisses on my neck and my shoulder and suddenly his hands were between my legs again, his fingers rubbing small, slow circles around my clit. I quivered again and started whimpering because it was almost more than I could take. “I hope no one heard us... otherwise it's gonna be quite awkward at the breakfast table tomorrow”, he mumbled, not stopping the movement of his fingers. “I bet, you could still keep going, huh?”, I was already panting again, moving against his hand to get some more friction. “I guess that's a yes”. “I... I don't trust... you anymore”, I managed to get out, because after all of this today I wouldn't have been surprised if he would've stopped any second again to leave me high and dry. But right now I didn’t see any danger of him leaving me. So I arched my back and spread my legs wider in order he could reach all of the folds and enjoy this messy view. “Love, you look so beautiful right now”, he whispered underneath his breath. I smiled while pushing my pelvis to meet his fingers again. This man knows how to act. These little circles turned into pressing my push button and sliding two fingers deep down inside. He took his time, he enjoyed himself. His fingers are well trained and he knows how play with my overheated body. I was watching him...his lips parted, his eyes fixed on the fingers going all the way down. I felt my lower belly clenching: “Teddy, I want it faster and... can you add another finger?”, I murmured. “Of course, baby girl”, he cooed. Now I was sure that he wouldn’t leave me here all by myself. He started increasing his pace and kissing my thighs. Right now I was on the edge and just couldn’t but keep moaning and ride this wave. “I get you, love...Want you to come so bad”, he said softly. I fell to pieces all over his fingers, I was lying senseless on his old bed. He licked his fingers with a look full of satisfaction and pride: “You’re my sweet girl. I love you ”. “I love you, Teddy”, I answered rubbing my eyes and yawning. It was a long day full of adventures.

#ed sheeran #teddy sheeran #smut #ed sheeran smut #nc-17

27 notes · View notes