#this is probably the scene that squeezed my heart the most in the entire series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-brant · 3 years

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Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #i'm gonna miss these dorks #🥺#I love how he tries to break up with her and she’s like ‘no❤️’#also totally do not put on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift during the childhood flashbacks unless u wanna cry #cause I did and my sensitive ass was crying #that song is about John B and JJ okay #it just is

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fuzzy-melonlord · 2 years

Text

Okay so im doing a new “series” of different ways to say “I Love You”. It’s more of a challenge for myself because I know I struggle with writing just pure fluff. So we gonna work to get better! Starting off with the character i struggle the most to write as well lol

Pairing: Gavin/Freelancer WC: 927 Genre: Fluff

Before them, Gavin was content to be alone. He had come to terms with it when he decided that he was going to be the person he wanted to be, even if that meant being ridiculed by his fellow Incubi. He never planned on getting this close to someone, much less a human. Someone so fragile and yet so willing to put their own life in harm’s way. Honestly, if he could have a heart attack then he was sure that his beloved Deviant would have given him one on multiple different occasions. Yet because it was them, because it was the first person who truly saw him as just…Gavin, well he was okay with the stress of their recklessness.

That thought didn’t stop his worrying entirely though. Especially not as he watched them practically passing out at their coffee table.

It was nearing finals week and they had been up late almost every night, while their days were packed to the brim with classes. Since they apparently didn’t know the concept of pacing when it comes to their work. He’s seen them chastise and advise all of their friends and yet they could never take their own advice.

Gavin let out a soft, almost silent, sigh as he watched their head slam down onto the book that was laid out in front of them. The impact wakes them up almost instantly, their head snapping back up trying to rub the sleep out of their eyes. Unaware of their boyfriend’s watchful gaze. He was honestly surprised that Caelum hadn’t shown up yet, usually if the Freelancer was forcing theirself awake like this then the young Empathy Daemon was first on the scene. Tonight though, he was surprisingly missing. Gavin wondered if it was because he felt that Gavin had arrived, and knew that he could handle it. He was getting busier with a few of his other charges as well, getting more accustomed to them being unable to see him. Gavin hated thinking about it, but it was only a matter of time before the Chorus revoked Freelancer’s ability to see him. He wasn’t looking forward to that day.

“You’re overworking yourself, Deviant.”

The sound of his voice caused the Freelancer to jump slightly, apparently having forgotten that they weren’t alone in their home. They let out a long sigh before turning to face their boyfriend, a half hearted and obviously exhausted grin on their face.

“I’m fine, Gav. I need to study for my fundamentals of sonal magic class. There are a few things that just aren’t sticking…and the exam is tomorrow.” They try and justify their actions, but know from the look on Gavin’s face that he isn’t going to leave them to study in peace.

Pacing over, he sits down next to them and reaches out to take one of their hands in his own. His fingers lacing with their own, giving a soft comforting squeeze.

“You are a brilliant student,” He begins, his eyes staring holes into their textbook, “and I know how important these exams are, but please take a break. You’re going to work yourself sick.”

The Freelancer lets out a rather dramatic sigh, dropping their head onto his shoulder. He can see out of the corner of his eye that they are in fact pouting now. He had mentioned it to them before, but whenever they pout he gets an almost insatiable urge to kiss them. Though, he could see them doing just about anything and get the same urge. It wasn’t even an addiction to them, he was just…so hopelessly in love. If he wasn’t so happy with them he would probably call himself a sap.

“I know, but I’ve gotta pass this class-”

“And the best way to ensure that you pass, is to get a good nights sleep before the exam,” He explained, cutting off the rant that he was sure they had lined up, “if you stay awake all night, you’ll be exhausted during your exams. In fact, you might end up so tired you fall asleep and just…don’t finish.”

The thought hadn’t seemed to occur to the Freelancer before Gavin said it, he could tell by the way they tensed that they were processing the very real possibility of this happening. It brought a small chuckle from his lips as he felt them processing this in real time. Their emotions swirling around the air, the conflict, the concern, and just a hint of love. He loved feeling their love for him, having it confirmed even without words.

“I…I guess you’re right. I should probably go to bed.” They muttered, adjusting theirself so that their body was practically curling into his side, “I can do some last minute studying tomorrow before I head out.”

Gavin wasn’t going to say it, but he had very little intention of letting that happen. He knew that they would study theirself to death if they could. So he would be the good boyfriend and distract them with sweet kisses and a home-made (magically made) breakfast. He knew them well enough to know that would do the trick.

“Thank you…for looking out for me. I love you, Gavin.” Their soft words pulled him from his scheming and caused his heart to skip a beat. Despite the joy he felt from being able to feel the love mingling with their emotions. It was a completely different thing to hear the words out loud, the confirmation that his feelings were returned. He would never get enough of it.

“I love you too, Deviant.”

#redactedasmr #redacted asmr #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #gavin redacted asmr #freelancer redacted asmr

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auburnaudry · 3 years

Text

Am I Your Forever? - Brock Boeser

A/N: I had lots of free time this weekend now that I’m taking a break from my series. I love Brock and this has been living in my head for a while so I finally decided to write it. I also just wanted to get this out so it’s super unedited, sorry in advance.

Summary: You wanted Brock to be your forever but sometimes he says things that make you think your not his end game. (Ends super fluffy)

Word count: 2410 words

You and Brock had been dating for almost 4 years. He was it for you and you assumed you were it for him, you were perfect for eachother. Your relationship obviously had its challenges but nothing you two couldn’t figure out and over come.

You both were getting ready for Bo and Hollys engagement party and of course Brock was ready way before you.

You were putting your last earring in when Brock came up behind you, slipping his arms around your waste and placing sweet kisses on your exposed shoulder.

“You almost ready” he whispered as his mouth was still attached to you shoulder. He looked up at you through the mirror and your heart melted at the sight.

“Yeah I just need to get dressed then I’ll be ready” he nodded against your shoulder and kept you in his arms, closing his eye for a few seconds.

“Which I can only do if you let go of me” you continued. He chuckled and placed one last kiss to your neck as he let his hands fall slowly down your hips until he wasn’t touching you anymore.

You walked over to your shared closet and slowly slipped your clothes off, leaving you in just your underwear. You took the dress you planned on wearing off it’s hanger and slipped it on. You quickly turned around to call for Brock to help you with the zipper but he was already standing in front of you, leaning on the frame of the closet door.

Brocks cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he was clearly caught watching you changed. Even after almost 4 years of being together he still blushed at innocent moments like that and it made you fall more in love every single time.

“Can you please zip it bubs?” You asked him with a smirk. He didn’t answer, just walked over and motion for you to turn around. He left small kisses on your exposed back as he zipped you up. When he finished zipping the dress he slipped his arms around your waste again.

“Now are we ready? We going to be late if we don’t head over soon.” You and Brock were usually late to most casual events that didn’t have an exact start time. You both got teased about it, everyone thinking you two just couldn’t keep your hands off eachother. But in reality, you too just enjoyed taking your time to get ready and were never in a rush. It’s one of the reasons you two fit so perfectly together, you never put too much pressure on things, you both liked to go with the flow.

The ride over to the party was comfortably silent. You guys were enjoying each others company and the last bit of quiet before you were stuck with hours of loud music and constant talking.

Your stared out the window thinking about you and Brocks future engagement, how fun it will be to be engaged to your best friend and the love of your life. You two didn’t talk about the future too often because, again, you both liked to go with the flow. The few times it did come up though, he seemed excited and like a future with you was something he wanted.

When you arrived to the party, you were pulled from you thoughts by Brocks hand giving yours a squeeze.

“You ready?” He questioned.

“Always” your go to response anytime he asked you that. You entered the party hand in hand and began greeting everyone you knew.

Later on in the evening, you were sitting at your table with other canucks players and their significant others. These people had become family to you in the time that you’ve been with Brock, so the entire night had been filled with laughs and light hearted conversation.

“So are you guys next?” Micaela spoke looking in yours and Brocks direction. Before you had the chance to answer though, Brock spoke.

“No definitely not” he said laughing. Everyone else at the tabled laughed along. You just gave a small smile, pretending to not be hurt by his words. You weren’t one to make a scene and say something in front of other people so you bottled it up and hoped that you would have enough courage to bring it up when you two made it home.

The rest of the night, you were consumed by your own thoughts. Why did he sound so disgusted at the thought of marrying you? Your heart physically ached. Were you stupid to think he was the one?

You tried your best to seem unfazed by his comment but it kept eating away at you.

“You okay babe?” Brock whispered in your ear on the dance floor. You were lucky because he too hated drawing attention to your problems in public.

“Of course, just tired.” You weren’t sure if you voice was convincing enough, but it must have been because Brock dropped it.

“Me too, we can head home soon.” And within the next 30 mins you were saying your goodbye and congratulating Bo and Holly on your way out.

The ride home was quiet, but not the comfortable silence you felt on the way to the party. But you didn’t want to bring up your feelings. You were embarrassed that you were on a completely different page than your boyfriend.

As soon as the car was parked, you hopped out and went inside. You stripped your clothes and threw on your Pjs, too tired to even take a shower. You wiped your makeup off with a wipe and washed your face. As you started to brush your teeth Brock walked into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around your middle again and kissed your cheek.

“Your sure your okay? You seem off.” He asked looking you directly in your eyes through the mirror in front of you. The eyes contact made you nervous so you looked down at the sink and nodded since you couldn’t respond with your mouth full of toothpaste.

You finished your nightly routine and crawled into bed. Shortly after, Brock turned all the lights off and crawled into bed next to you. He pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you baby girl, goodnight” you could tell Brock was a little worried about you but didn’t want to push things, so he didn’t bring it up again. He knew you would bring it up to him if something was really bothering you or when you were ready.

“Love you too, night” and with that you both went to sleep.

...

You and Brock were having a relaxing day at home with the puppies. It was rare that you got an entire day to spend together doing whatever you wanted so you decided on staying home and just enjoying each others company.

You were cuddled up on the couch talking about anything and everything with the TV playing in the background. You were interrupted by Brocks phone buzzing from under you and you were forced to get up and look for it.

“Hey mom” he answers the FaceTime call when he finally found the phone between the couch cushions. You also say hello and then leave to go grab a snack from the kitchen. When you got back to the couch, you focused on the TV while Brock continued his conversation with his mother.

“So when are you two going to get married.” Laurie asked. You weren’t paying much attention before so you weren’t sure how it even came up, but now you were completely focused on how Brock was going to respond.

“Couldn’t tell you, stop asking.” Again your heart sank into your stomach. This is now the second time he was asked about marrying you and his response was the same both times.

Just like the night of the engagement party a couple weeks earlier, you got lost in your thoughts again, questioning your entire relationship.

They continued talking for a little bit and eventually you and Brock said your goodbyes to Laurie. You stayed quiet for the rest of the day and avoided Brocks touch. You were so upset, but again you were too embarrassed to even bring up how you were feeling.

That night you decided to take a bath. You didn’t take baths often but loved it when you had the time. You always asked Brock if he wanted to join, but tonight you were too upset with him. So when he took the dogs on their walk, you went to the bathroom and shut the door.

You filled the bath with bubbles and a fun LED light to set the mood. You had just recently installed a TV in the bathroom for nights like this, so you turned on your favorite show and got into the tub. It was really calm and relaxing for about 5 mins but your body tensed up when you heard Brocks voice.

“Babeeee?” He called through the house. You could hear his footsteps get closer to the master bedroom “Bubs are you in here?” You didn’t respond. You thought maybe he would give up after looking in the master bedroom, but you were wrong.

He must have noticed the bathroom door was shut and the lights were on because soon after he called for you he knocked lightly on the door.

“Hey baby you in there?” His voice was sweet, laced with a little bit of concern, probably since you weren’t in the spot he had left you before he walked the dogs.

“Yeah babe.” You tried your best not to give away the fact that you were upset. You heard the door handle jiggle followed by the squeaking of the hinges as Brock opened the door to peak his head in.

“You didn’t tell me it was bath time.” He looked at you, a little hurt that you didn’t invite him.

“Sorry” was the only response you could think of.

“What’s wrong babe, your acting weird.” He walked into the bathroom and kneeled beside the tub. All of a sudden you felt extremely exposed and wrapped your arms around your chest to cover the bit that was visible over the bubbled.

Tears started rolling down you face and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Brock quickly stood and undressed himself moving you slightly so he could slip in behind you. He held you, trying to make you feel better, but you didn’t relax into his touch and it was very noticeable.

“D-did I do something?” He questioned. You slowly nodded, turning yourself around in the tub and sitting across from him. His face fell as you nodded and moved away from him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He whispered clearly afraid of the answer.

“No no of course not I-I would never.” You voice was still a little shaky from the crying. His expression soften from your reassurance.

“What’s wrong baby, you have to tell me.” He grabbed one of your feet as he spoke and started to rub it. You were quick to pull it away because you wanted his full attention on you.

“Do you not want to marry me?” Now you were the one whispering, afraid of what the answer might be.

“What? Of course I want to marry you one day, what kind of question even is that?” You looked at him confused.

“When mic asked when we were gonna get engaged at Holly and Bo’s party you acted disgusted at the thought and today your mom asked you a similar question and again you responded like she was crazy for asking.” He now understood why you were so upset and he felt so guilty “I-I just... it really hurt my feelings, like is the thought of marrying me that bad? And if you don’t want to marry me are we just wasting our -“ Brock cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“Please don’t ever think like that, I love you more than anything, I want you to be my wife and I want to start a family with you.” You finally felt at ease with his words “I only responded like that because we are really private about our relationship, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if I said yes and then everyone starts asking questions. And we really haven’t talked about it ourselves much so I didn’t want to put you on the spot. I wasn’t sure if you were on the same page as me, so I responded the way I did to get everyone off our backs.” He reached out and grabbed your hand and pulled you back between his legs with your back to his chest. “I’m sorry I hurt you and had you second guessing us.” You now understood where he was coming from and why he said the things he said

“It’s okay I understand now, I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner.” He kissed your exposed shoulder and you finally relaxed into his touch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He spoke after a few short moments of silence.

“Hmm?” You hummed, unsure what he was alluding to.

“About us, our future?” You smiled and grabbed one of his hands from your waste, bringing it to your mouth to place a kiss on it.

“I would love nothing more.” With that, you two talked about your future and when you wanted to get engaged, how long you wanted to be engaged before you got married, how long after you got married did you want to start having kids, how many kids you guys wanted, and so on. You spent so much time talking, the water turned cold and you were forced to get out of the bath.

You both dried off and finished your nightly routines, meeting eachother in bed. Once you were both laying comfortably in bed, Brock pulled you in for a long, passionate kiss. When you both pulled away to catch your breathe he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you and want to spend the rest off my life with you, please don’t ever doubt that.” Brock whispered.

“Good cause your stuck with me .” The rest of the night was spent kissing and exchanging I love you’s. You truly couldn’t have picked a better guy to spend the rest of your life with.

#brock boeser #brock boeser x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #brock boeser fic

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑺/𝑶 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑻𝒐 𝑮𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, supporting, encouraging nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of NSFW content.

៚𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

"Baby....what are you doing?"

Hongjoong scooted even further in his chair when you kneeled in front of him and began fumbling with his belt.

Looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, you smiled at him.

"You're stressed out. So I want to help you."

Making a quick work of his zipper, you began to pull his pants and briefs down enough to let his cock spring free. Hongjoong lifted his hips up to make it easier for you.

"Baby, you know you don't have to do this." He reminded you, but deep down he just wanted you to suck the life out of him and was impatient to feel your mouth around his aching length.

"I know..... I want to."

Without another word, you leaned down and licked a long stripe up his length. Hongjoong's hands gripped the arm rests as he watched you take more and more of him in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Oh my God!" Hongjoong panted as he came inside your mouth.

Winking at you, he made you stand and sit on his desk.

"Ok, let me return the favor."

៚𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

"Come on you little cock slut. I know you can do better than that."

Seonghwa's tongue swiped across his bottom lip before a sinister smirk was plastered on his handsome features. His hand that was on the back of your head pushed you further, causing you to gag around his thick length.

"Is that all you got baby? I thought you desperately wanted to suck on my cock."

His teasing only made you more determined to wipe the smirk off his face. Without warning, you took all of him in your mouth, giving him an extra long suck that had him throwing his head back against the wall.

"Holy s-shit!"

Seonghwa let out a series of groans and heavy pants as you continued to suck him ravenously, getting closer and closer to the edge. Feeling his cock twitch, you pulled him out of your mouth and started jerking him off to help him cum faster. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue which was the image that made him tip over the edge.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Seonghwa cried out as he spurted out his hot cum all over your tongue and nose. He was left breathless and without words for a good moment

You swallowed his cum and couldn't hide the proud smirk on your face knowing you shut Park Seonghwa up.

៚𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

You stopped Yunho's hands that were currently traveling down your body.

"Baby? Are you ok? Did I do something wrong? Do you want me to stop?"

It made your heart melt how much Yunho took care of you, always asking if you were ok and always putting your needs above his. Precisely the reason why you wanted to change it up this time and instead take care of him like he deserved to be.

"No. Just...... lay back and relax."

You made Yunho turn onto his back. He blushed intensely as he watched you start kissing down his chest and abs, trying not to get so turned on but ultimately failing. Pulling his sweatpants and boxers down, you groaned at the sight of his huge cock hitting his stomach. God how you wanted it in your mouth.

"B-baby I'm ok...really-"

You hushed him by placing a kiss to his tip, making him inhale sharply.

"You're always taking care to me Yuyu.....let me take care of you for a change." You winked at him before starting to take as much of him as you could in your mouth.

All throughout it, Yunho was blushing and giggling like crazy by the end of it, he couldn't believe that you would actually do this.

As if he wasn't already wrapped around your finger.

៚𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

Yeosang heard the front door slam. He knew you were probably tired and exhausted from work, since it was almost 10 pm and your shift was supposed to end 3 hours ago. He had told you time and time again he'd take care of you, but stubborn you refused to quit your job.

You stormed in the room and marched over to him.

"Tough day?-"

He couldn't finish his sentence since you immediately straddled him on the bed and began kissing him harshly. Slamming him down on the bed, you began pulling his pajama pants down.

"Y/N! What has gotten into you?!" He exclaimed, shocked by your actions.

You gave no answer but simply gave his cock a hard squeeze before putting it in your mouth, immediately bobbing your head up and down while sucking on it. Yeosang threw his head back, unable to form any coherent words, nearly choking on his own breath. He was usually very quiet when you two had sex, but now he was blurting out curse words, moans and whimpers as you gave him the most exhilarating blowjob he'd ever had.

He was a sweaty and panting mess by the time he came, eyes staring wide at the ceiling trying to process what happened. He looked up and saw you ridding yourself of your dress pants and underwear, staring at him with lust and frustration.

"I'm not done yet Yeosangie. I'm going to fuck myself on your cock as many times as I want and you're going to take it."

Yeosang gulped, half afraid and half turned on by you taking charge.

៚𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

San's hands guided your movements, making you take even more of him in your mouth.

"That's a good little slut. Looking so fucking pretty with my cock inside that mouth of yours."

San's phone began ringing. You began to pull away but his hand kept you from moving. He silently commanded you to keep going with your task. Putting on the speaker, he answered:

"Yes?"

"I got the papers you asked for." You recognized Yunho's voice.

"Ok. Bring them in. Door's unlocked."

San chuckled when you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What? You said you wanted to suck my cock darling and I was happy to oblige. Don't think I'm going to let you stop just because my friend is here."

Petting your hair he whispered:

"Be a good girl/ boy and put on a little show for him, won't you?"

You moaned around his length, getting more aroused at the thought of one of San's friends watching you in such a sinful act.

"Ok I got the-"

Yunho dropped the papers in his hand as he took in the scene in front of him. San smirked when he saw his friend swallow harshly.

"Aren't they such a good little whore? They wanted to suck me off so badly. Maybe after they're done......

They'll be willing to do the same to you?"

៚𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

Mingi sighed softly, his hands gently caressing your hair as he stared down at you.

"That's it baby...you're doing so good. God! You feel amazing."

He made sure to praise you as much as he could. When you told him you wanted him to teach you how to suck him off, he was hesitant, but after you kept insisting, he gave in. And he was glad he did. You were doing such a good job, it was hard for him to hold back from fucking himself in your mouth. It felt so good, but he would'nt do that. It was already enough to see you on your knees, sucking him off so innocently yet it was so dirty.

His gentle hands carefully guiding your movements, making sure not to hurt you or push you down too far. It was such a sweet and beautiful scene, he knew he was going to cum anytime soon.

"Oh-oh angel I'm g-gonna-"

He pulled out of your mouth, not wanting you to swallow his cum in case you got grossed out, instead staining his shirt and the floor beneath him. Once he got over his high, he looked back at you and smiled down at you with love and pure adoration:

"You were so good baby. So obedient. Let me reward you."

Mingi lifted you up and layed you down on the bed, wanting to please you like royalty.

៚𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

"Seriously? Right fucking now?"

Wooyoung could not believe that you'd actually get horny on the ride to a 'company' event that Hongjoong organized. You actually took off your seatbelt and bent down, already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

"Goddamit Y/N! Don't do this! I'm driving!" He begged you, something he'd never ever think he'd do, but you left him no choice as he tried to keep his eyes on the road and not think about the growing tent you were causing.

"Is that supposed to stop me?" You chuckled darkly as you took his dick out and began to stroke him slowly, spreading his precum all over his tip.

You wrapped your lips around his head and hummed softly. Not taking anymore of your bratty behavior, Wooyoung pulled into the nearest parking lot he could find and stopped the car.

"Ok you dirty little whore. You wanted to play? All right let's play."

His hand pushed down on your head, making you sink lower and take his entire cock in your mouth. He held it there for a few seconds, smirking when you gagged. He released his grip on you and moaned when some of your saliva trailed down your lips.

"But we're playing with my rules. So get on with it slut. My cock isn't going to suck itself."

Forcing your head down again, you hollowed your cheeks out as Wooyoung began to face fuck you in the car.

And if you think once he came it'd be over, you're wrong. This was only the beginning.

៚𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

Jongho was already judging you for playing such a nonconservative and explicit song. And he was even more shocked when you actually began to rap along to some of the lyrics.

"I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp."

Just hearing that made Jongho gulp a little himself. Turning to him, you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

"I wanna gag, I wanna choke." You continued.

Jongho nearly choked on the water he was currently taking a sip from.

Not giving up, you crawled over to the part of the couch he was sitting in and placed yourself in between his legs.

"I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat." You finished as your hands began to stroke his thick and muscly thighs.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Jongho exclaimed, completely flustered by your actions and demeanor.

"Can't you take a hint? I want to suck your dick?" You responded with absolutely no shame or remorse.

"Y-you....can't it wait until we're going to bed?" He asked.

You frowned. "No! Don't get me wrong Jongho, sex with you is great, but you always hold back. I want you to stop holding back and actually use that God level strength you have and wreck me completely."

Jongho just blinked at you. For a moment you thought he'd refuse, but then he unzipped his pants.

"Careful what you wish for baby."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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impaladolan · 3 years

Text

Home Alone - Grayson Dolan

summary: after a long week of work, y/n needs some sort of relaxation and relief. although, her outlook on relieving her frustrations isn’t what grayson had in mind...

warnings: tid bit fluffy, swearing, vibrator use, & smut

a/n: been in my unfinished drafts for a bit..

"Are you sure you don't want to tag along, baby?" Grayson longingly questioned, his brows crinkled and his lips almost forming a pout.

"I haven't been able to do laundry all week. God knows it won't get done unless I do it now." Y/N chuckles, balancing a full basket of freshly dried clothes on her hip, watching her lover wrap his fist around the front door's handle.

Every other weekend, at the Dolan residences, the two brothers, and sometimes their wives, would gather with some of their friends and watch their favorite football teams. And later on, they'd play board games or watch some movies. Normally, Y/N would be the one begging Grayson to hurry up and get ready to attend the biweekly event, except this time.

Y/N has different plans...

It had been a brutal week at work, her boss was currently taking out her "divorce emotions" on her employees and Y/N was getting the rougher end of it. She was relieved when it was finally the weekend and she could stress clean, calm her nerves in some sort of self efficient way and relax after a tough couple days.

She hadn't even had the thought of a sexual release, until she had dreamt multiple naughty scenarios just last night during her deep slumber. She couldn't exactly pinpoint what all she had dreamed, but she remembers waking up with a dripping arousal and a sore ache at her very center. And though her husband was laid right next to her, perfectly capable of satisfying her womanly needs, she decided using other resources would be a better fit.

Don't get her wrong, she loves being pleasured by the only man who knows exactly how to, but she felt embarrassed. She didn't want to come across as a sex-crazed women to Grayson, even though it would never make a difference to him.

They're married, for goodness sake.

"I can stay back and help out. We could even have our own little movie night if you wanted," He began, releasing his hand from the door and taking a few steps toward Y/N, whose lips turned into a cheesy smile as he drew closer to her.

"Just you and me," He took the basket filled with clothes from her hip and set it on the floor, intertwining his large hands with her smaller ones, eliciting a short laugh from Y/N. He brought her closer to his frontside, creating a ballroom dance-like formation and began shuffling around with her in his arms. Like an old married couple, they slowly danced around the room, him twirling her in his grasp while Y/N admirably gazed upon him.

Her cheeks were rosy with admiration, finding his little act of affection adorable. "You get easily distracted, huh?" Y/N grinned, resting her chin happily on his shoulder, his minuscule beard hairs tickling certain parts of her neck.

"Well, you looked too pretty over here by yourself," He softly explained against her ear. "And I wanted to dance around a room with a beautiful woman like you. So, I am." He lowered his hands beneath her and slew her into a romantic dip, planting a sweet kiss upon her lips. She returned one back, feeling her heart grow two sizes larger, much like the Grinch movie portrays, if anything.

"Grayson, I know how much you enjoy football, especially with the boys," She was only making excuses, but he had tempted her to just cuddle on the couch all day and watch plethoras of movies and munch on various snacks. But the low rattle in the depths her core was motioning her in a different way, and she just couldn't survive the rest of the day without fixing her little problem.

"Hmm, you're right. But when I get back, we're ordering take out and watching movies. Got it?" He chuckles, bringing the both of them back up into a standing position.

"M'hm, be safe." Y/N smiles, planting another kiss on her lover's lips before leaving his warmth. She waved goodbye to him as he left their abode, sweetly grinning as she went back to finishing up the laundry before the real reason she was staying home, would begin.

Though the couple's intimate relations seemed innocent and loving, they each had a different side to them, specifically in the bedroom.

The two never shied away from new experiences and would most certainly dabble into different areas of the "sex world," if you will. They, of course, had their preferences and different kinks, but Y/N seemed to be more open and freeing for that sort of stuff.

For the different occasions that they felt a bit more lustful and yearning for one another, they kept a locked trunk of knickknacks in their closet. You see, that's the one Grayson knows about, but Y/N keeps a smaller one, filled to the brim with all of her own toys, in a section of her closet that he never really pays attention to. If he had any idea that she kept self-pleasuring items for her own uses, he'd be absolutely ballistic.

Thankfully, he doesn't...

The moment Y/N threw the last bits of dirty laundry left, into the washer, she practically sprinted to their shared bedroom. After rummaging through the trunk filled with "accessories," she found a nice, pretty pink vibrator to do the trick, as well as a black silk blindfold to shield her own eyes. She was already rid of her clothes and sprawled across the wide bed in an instance, tying the piece of cloth over her eyes.

Though, unbeknownst to Y/N, Grayson was already on his way back home. As soon as he had pulled into his brother's driveway, they had called to cancel— a certain emergency about something Grayson didn't really pay attention to listen to. He was thrilled that he didn't have to leave Y/N at home, all by herself to do chores all day. And luckily, their houses weren't too far apart from each other, so Grayson was back home within fifteen minutes of leaving it.

He didn't feel the need to text Y/N, she was probably busy anyway and possibly wouldn't respond. He figured she would hear the garage door open and expect that he was already home.

Little does he know...

As soon as he was parked and out of his vehicle, Grayson was trudging down stairs to the laundry room, in search of Y/N. He was surprised that she wasn't there, but he figured she might just be folding on the couch, trying to get ahead on one of the TV series the two were drawn into.

Grayson chuckles as he makes his way back upstairs, though his brows curtly furrow, his ears almost perking at the muffled sounds coming from the hallway.

Their shared room, to be precise.

With a pondering look upon his face, he kicks off his shoes and makes his way towards his bedroom, quietly twisting the door handle and pushing it inward. He opens the door wide enough to secretly look inside, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness that enveloped the entire expanse. The noises he had heard only seconds ago were more prominent, and his eyes had fallen on the object creating the aroused sounds;

Y/N.

She was laid out on their bed, legs wide open and shaking while her hands were constantly pressuring a fucking sex toy against her soaked pussy. Grayson froze, pure anger washing over him and turning his face a turbulent shade of red, washing away his pleasant mood. He almost stormed in there, ready to rip the stupid machine away from her hands and show her what a real orgasm feels like.

But he somehow contained himself, and instead, watched the scene play out in front of his very own eyes, vexation spilling from his entire countenance.

Y/N didn't hear the garage door open and close, or even the beep of Grayson's truck when he locked it. She hadn't even heard his feet stomping up and down the stairs, or his lingering chuckles. She was so caught up in how she was feeling.

The artificial vibrations that buzzed upon her core made the world around her so euphoric and heavenly. She'd brush the toy upon her clit, forcing her entire body shake with deep pleasure and a soft moan to emit from her mouth. It felt so nice, and she was so close to the brink of releasing.

She was already feeling better, and naughty. If Grayson were to find her this way, masturbating freely in the open and satisfying herself, she would never live to see another day. But she didn't care at this point, she just wanted to finally cum.

And she was extremely close.

Her hips began to buckle, while her backside rose from the bed and her free hand twisted at the sheets beneath her. "Mm- just a little more—" Her entire core was pulsating, so fucking close to just letting go.

So close..

"Don't fucking cum yet, slut." Grayson's voice boomed throughout the room, making Y/N's movements freeze in terror and shock. Before she could think of some sort of explanation or reasoning as to what she's doing, her blindfold is ripped from her eyes, while the vibrator that was once nuzzled up on her pussy, was taken away as well. Now, she felt so empty and wanting, edged to an almost release.

"Jesus- You're fucking dripping, for fucksake." His tone was harsh, and Y/N felt like crying. She held onto her tears as she watched him examine the drenched vibrator, still buzzing in his hands. Out of the loss of contact, she began to whine, squeezing her thighs together to create at least a little bit of friction.

"Grayson, please—" She began to huff, but her shuttering voice was interrupted by the aggravated man pacing in front of her.

"I don't think I fucking asked you to talk, did I?" He glared at her, though just the sight of Y/N's exposed body made him shudder with a tinge of want.

Against his wishes, Y/N continued her whines, her breathing still ragged and finally her own hand traveling down to her soaked heat. She didn't care if she'd be in more trouble, she just needed to unravel the knot inside her, whether she'd pay for that mistake later or if not.

She didn't get far, because Grayson caught her wrist before it made it all the way down to her center, and brought it up to the headboard. He wrapped a leather strip around both of her wrists, mumbling incoherent spews of anger, doing the same with her ankles against the bedposts.

"I-I, I thought you were gonna watch football.." She began, but a low growl sounded from Grayson, and the blindfold was placed back over her eyes, while a different type of cloth was shoved in her mouth. Y/N feels the numbing slap across her thigh before hearing the connection's sound, an exasperated scream muffling out of her filled mouth.

"I'd stop talking if I were you. Unless you want to be choked by Daddy’s fucking cock, darling." His voice rattled her insides, and she dared not to make another sound, already dug far too deep in a hole anyway. "Get ready princess, m'gonna edge the fuck out of you. Maybe then, you'll remember to ask me for permission to use your fucking toys." His voice soon faded from her ears as a higher vibration than before was nudged right up against her swollen clit, making her figure convulse in imploding pleasure.

It took an entire hour for Grayson to edge Y/N twelve fucking times. She was a mess, sweat droplets dotting her hairline while her pussy remained in slippery shambles. He didn't say a word, and Y/N held her tongue from shouting profanities after the several losses of contact. She hadn't came yet, but if she didn't soon— she would find a way to get out of her restraints and finish off what she had started herself.

It had been several minutes since Grayson had pulled her to the brink of an orgasm, and she was starting to think that he'd never come back. She had heard the sound of a zipper earlier, and she couldn't tell if he was doing something to ease his own pain while she laid there, so high strung and breathless. She was about to call out his name, but the warmth of his tongue wrapped around her bundle of nerves and she let out an exasperated sigh, pulling on the cuffs tied around her wrists.

He slipped his tongue in skillful motions, his hands pushing up underneath her thighs as he lapped up her liquids. Y/N was so sensitive to touch, anything that remotely stroked her could heighten her arousal and make her lust for more.

Within seconds, her hips were shaking and her back arched above the mattress, her toes curling under the pressure. And his voice finally sang the heavenly words she had been waiting for the entire time;

"Cum, princess."

Y/N released all over his lips, a high-pitched scream sounding from her mouth as she finally unravels, her legs bucking against their restraints. She spits out the cloth from her mouth and heavily breathes, murmuring praises to the man between her legs.

"I'm sorry, Grayson."

a/n: did this completely suck? i haven’t really written in third person in awhile, so i need honest opinions..

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detectivereyes · 3 years

Text

Even If You Stumble A Step, You’re Still Moving Forward

Summary: TK and Carlos move into their new home post-finale and TK doesn't exactly make the best first impression on their new neighbors...

Notes: this was like a fever dream i had a few months ago and then i stopped writing but decided to revive it last night so... here we are. also title creds (and emotional support creds) to jillian @marjansmarwani because this fic wouldn’t exist without her. and also s/o to brit @moviegeek03 for being extra supportive of yet another fic where [spoiler] tk falls down the stairs again :/

read on ao3

TK shuffles through the maze of boxes stacked several feet high throughout their new home. The scene shouldn’t surprise him considering it was only a few months ago he was moving his own boxes into their old home. However it feels different knowing that most of this stuff isn’t actually theirs.

Well, it is theirs now he figures. But the fact remains that most of the stuff filling the space was either given to them by various members of the extended 126 family, or was recently purchased by TK or Carlos on one of their many trips to Bed Bath and Beyond.

They had taken their time searching for a new place to live. Owen had made it clear that they were both welcome to stay with him (and Mateo) for as long as they needed, but TK had known it was time.

So when a townhome popped up on Zillow that met all their criteria, they wasted no time booking an appointment with the realtor. They both had instantly fallen in love with the open floor plan and deck out back. Plus they knew the extra bedrooms upstairs may come in handy someday.

While they knew the vertical layout of the home itself wasn’t the best, having more stairs than either of them were used to, it checked every other box and was right in their price range so they had wasted no time signing the lease.

A few days had passed since settlement and now most of their days were spent trying to unpack and make this new house into a home. It would never replace the one they had lost, but it had been exciting to build this new home together.

Though on this particular day, TK found himself alone in trying to get settled in since Carlos had a shift. With the 126 still out of commission, possibly forever, and the department not having any openings for paramedics, most of the unpacking was left for TK.

After getting a good chunk of the living room done, he checks the time and decides to go out and see if the mail has come yet. Not that he’s expecting anything with their address still being so new, and not getting much physical mail anyway to begin with. But it still provided a good excuse to take a break.

TK opens the front door and starts to make his way down the set of stairs leading down.

He makes it about halfway before his attention is caught by one of his new next door neighbors, Mr. Martin- if he remembers correctly, exiting at the same time. Mr. Martin gives a friendly wave and TK goes to return the gesture.

Except, he’s not paying attention when he takes the next step, and he misses, his heel just barely hitting the edge of the step before he starts to go down. He tumbles until he comes to a hard stop at the bottom, with most of his weight coming down on his right knee, sending shooting pains up and down his leg.

The rest of his body is sore, and by the time his ears stop ringing, he can just barely make out a new female voice asking “Sir, are you okay?”

He opens his eyes, which he had not even realized he had squeezed shut at some point, to see his neighbor, Mrs. Bailey- his brain supplies, from across the street making her way over to check on him, worried lines painting across her forehead.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine,” he grimaces while pushing himself up to a seated position. He tries to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. Not the best way to make a good first impression on his neighbors.

“Are you sure, son? We can call for help if you need it. Someone you know, or 9-1-1?” Mr. Martin joins in the conversation.

“No!” TK interjects too quickly, startling both neighbors. He panics for a moment when the weight of the predicament settles in. He meets the gaze of both figures still staring at him, clearly concerned and waiting for him to say something. “I mean, I’m a paramedic. I’m fine. Or I will be fine. Thank you,” he flashes them both a quick smile before pushing himself up off the ground, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from his knee when he tries to put any weight on it.

Getting back up the stairs is no easy feat, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that both Mr. Martin and Mrs. Bailey are still watching him, concerned. Fortunately, they don’t know him well enough to try and follow or help. He’s not sure he would feel comfortable enough receiving help from some strangers. Half the time he doesn’t even feel comfortable receiving help from the people he does know.

He leans heavily on the railing, refusing to turn around out of fear of further mortification. Once he’s inside the home, he collapses right inside the hall, unable to go any further since his knee decided to stop cooperating.

A few tears pool in his eyes, and he’s unsure if that’s due to the pain or embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do, he takes out his phone and shoots a quick text to Carlos.

TK: we have to move

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the three dots to pop up before being replaced by Carlos’ response.

Carlos: ???

TK sighs and rubs his face, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation.

TK: i feel down the stairs out front and all the neighbors saw

Carlos: Holy shit, are you okay??

He lets out a puff of air at that.

TK: you mean besides my bruised ego?

TK: no, i hurt my knee but i’m fine. that’s not the issue here.

Carlos: Okay, I’ll be home in an hour and you can let me be the judge of that. If I see any swelling, we’re going to the doctor.”

He rolls his eyes at Carlos’ worry. At worst, it’s a bad sprain, nothing that can’t be fixed with some icing and wrapping. But there are other things they need to worry about.

TK: you’re missing the point, carlos. the entire neighborhood thinks i’m an idiot. we can’t live here anymore.

TK knows he’s being dramatic, but the more he thinks about it, the more embarrassed he gets. The idea that these are people he’s going to have to continue to face everyday for the foreseeable future. And that now all they’ll be able to think about when they do see him. Now he’ll just be known as the guy who can’t walk down stairs.

Carlos: Relax, TK. I’ll be home soon.

TK: you mean our temporary place of residence which we will soon be moving out of

He doesn’t get a response after that.

His mind continues to spiral while he waits for Carlos to arrive. He knows the other man is likely climbing the walls trying to leave his shift early but it would still be awhile before he could be allowed to leave.

Left alone with his thoughts, his mind keeps playing out the series of events that happened minutes ago. He can't help but beat himself up over embarrassing himself like that. Ironically enough, it’s not even the first time he’s fallen down stairs, having taken a tumble down the stairs in Carlos’ place a few months back. And of course he would manage to injure himself that time, and this time as well.

He should at least try to get up so he can find an ice pack to lessen the swelling. Sitting on the floor up against the wall can’t be doing his knee any favors. Yet he can’t bring himself to move, instead resting his head back against the wall and sighing.

TK pulls out his phone again, cycling through the apps until he hears the tell-tale keys jingling in the already unlocked door.

As soon as Carlos steps through the door, he nearly trips over TK in the doorway. “Woah, hey! TK, are you okay?” he crouches down to TK’s level.

TK shrugs. Now that he’s face to face with Carlos, he can’t help but feel suffocated by another person judging him, even if Carlos’ worry comes from a place of concern.

“Can I take a look at your knee?”

TK nods, allowing Carlos to gently inspect his swollen joint. He winces as Carlos traces his hand around his kneecap.

“This doesn’t look good, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“No, it’s fine,” he quickly shakes his head. The worried look in Carlos’ eyes only makes his heart ache, and he can only try to find ways to make it go away. “Just help me up and we can ice it. It will look better once the swelling goes down a bit.”

Carlos gives him a look that screams I don’t believe you but sighs. “Fine, but if it doesn’t…”

“I know, I know. You’ll drag my ass to the emergency room,” TK gives him a reassuring smile.

Carlos returns the smile, and extends a hand to help TK up. TK accepts, and allows Carlos to take on most of his weight once he’s standing. They slowly make their way over to the living room, with Carlos softly depositing TK onto the sofa. He then disappears into the kitchen before returning with an ice pack in hand.

“Thanks,” TK smiles, trying to mask the wince as Carlos places the pack onto his knee.

“Do you want to watch an episode of The Office?” Carlos asks, picking up the remote and settling in the spot next to TK.

TK shrugs, knowing that Carlos is just trying to appeal to him by offering to put on his favorite show. The other man doesn’t even like the show that much, often finding the humor dry and tasteless, but TK thinks he just doesn’t get it.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

There it is.

“I just can’t believe I did that in front of our new neighbors. They probably think I’m an idiot.”

“I’m sure no one thinks you’re an idiot, TK,” Carlos gently reassures him.

“Yeah all the neighbors saw me make an idiot of myself,” TK sighs exasperatedly. “God, how am I supposed to face these people everyday now?”

“Hate to break it to you babe, but this is not a valid reason for us to move.”

“I know,” he sighs again.

“Besides,” Carlos continues. “If your track record has proven anything, it’s that this won’t be the last medical emergency at our new home. It’s good that the neighbors are getting used to it now.”

TK gives him a pointed look.

“I’m pretty sure this is the second time you’ve fallen down the stairs since we’ve started dating,” Carlos says with a light chuckle.

“Whatever,” TK scoffs. “At least the other time it wasn’t in front of total strangers.”

Carlos softens. “That’s true. But I’m sure the neighbors just care about you. I don’t think this is that big of a deal, TK.”

“You weren’t there though. It was mortifying.”

“What did they say, exactly?”

TK nervously looks down. “They asked if I was okay. And if I needed any help.”

Carlos raises his eyebrow, waiting to see if TK continues.

“They offered to call for help but I said no and went back inside.”

“See? They just care about you TK. I haven’t really talked to anyone yet but they seem like nice people.”

“I guess,” TK shrugs.

“I know, you’re still embarrassed. But if nothing else, they’ll probably forget about it by the next time we see them.”

“You don’t think I’ll be known as the ‘clumsy neighbor who can’t walk down stairs’?”

“Maybe the ‘cute clumsy neighbor that can’t walk down stairs,’” Carlos says with a smirk. “But we could always change that.”

TK cocks his head to the side.

“You think our new neighbors might enjoy some peach scones when we go over and have a proper introduction?”

“You really plan to charm our new neighbors with your baking?”

“You think it will work?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, I do,” Carlos grins proudly. He then leans over and gently removes the ice pack from TK’s knee, grimacing at what he sees. “This still looks pretty swollen, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

TK gives him a pained smile. “You sure I can’t talk my way out of this?”

“Nope,” Carlos says, popping the p. He stands up before extending his hand to help TK do the same.

TK accepts, shifting his weight and leaning into Carlos once he’s fully upright.

“You know, I think you may have a paramedic blindspot when it comes to your own health.”

TK lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

A week later, Carlos softly knocks on the door of Mrs. Bailey’s home across the street with one hand and a plate of peach scones in the other. TK had offered to hold the scones but when they went over to Mr. Martin's home earlier in the day, it was quickly discovered it was too difficult for him to manage getting up the stairs and holding the plate.

So he settles for letting Carlos do most of the work while he awkwardly limps up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing to keep some pressure off his knee.

After their quick trip to the emergency room, it had been determined that TK’s initial assessment was right and it was just a bad sprain. He was given a brace to help reduce the pain and a pair of crutches, which (much to Carlos’ dismay) he abandoned after only two days, citing that they only made it harder to get around their home which he can now say for certain has too many damn stairs.

A problem which seems to follow him as he also has to get up the stairs to greet his neighbors.

“Maybe we should have moved to a neighborhood of single level homes,” he states with a wince as he joins Carlos at the front door.

Carlos snorts. “We can take it into consideration if we ever have to move again.”

“God, please don’t say that. I don’t want to think about moving ever again.”

“Good,” Carlos gives him a soft smile. “Because I’m planning on staying here for the long run.”

“Me too,” TK returns the smile just as Mrs. Bailey opens the door.

“What a lovely surprise!” she exclaims taking in the sight of the two men.

“Hello ma’am,” Carlos says with a polite smile.

“We brought you some scones,” TK adds, gesturing to the plate in Carlos’ hands.

“Oh how thoughtful of you. Please come in. How are you doing?” she asks, turning to TK. “I’ve been worried.”

He exchanges a look with Carlos, the other man's face clearly saying I told you she cares, before turning back to Mrs. Bailey.

“I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you for asking. It’s just a bad sprain. But I do appreciate your concern, especially the other week.”

“Oh, of course dear,” she says with a warm smile. “Now, you boys aren’t going to make me eat these scones all by myself are you?”

They both let out a light chuckle and exchange another glance before following their new neighbor, and friend inside.

#i've posted too much today #but i need share before i end up deleting it #but actually if it flops i may just delete anyway #whatever at this point #911 lone star #911lonestarfic #tarlosfic #my fic #usersaaya #userbones #reyeslonestartag #pragmaticoptimist34 #tuserpaige

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 24)

Pairing: JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Here we go!!!!! The final chapter to this series/rewrite!!!! Thank you to everyone who’s stayed with me and has left me with great feedback and compliments. I’m so grateful! I loved writing this series and I’m looking forward to season 2! As always I love you all and forever grateful for every single one of you!

Word Count: 4k

Chapter 23 Masterlist

JJ pulls me aside by Kie's car and lets me silently cry into his shoulder while he kisses the top of my head and tells me everything is going to be okay in sweet whispers. I let him hold me because I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time in weeks.

"I should have went with him," I mumble for the millionth time in his shoulder.

"Trust me, if nothing else kills him first, you would." I pull away and give him a confused look. He quickly explains with a small grin. "I think the reason you two lasted so long together was because the three of us were there to buffer most of your fights."

"It's not my fault he's stupid." I smirk.

"See?" JJ says like he just made his point.

I roll my eyes and look over at Pope and Kie when I finally hear them talking like friends again.

"I'm sorry for acting like a dumbass," Pope stammers. "I was just upset and I was acting petty..."

"Yeah," Kie agrees with him.

"And I just..."

"It's okay."

"...just wanna be friends again."

Another round of thunder rumbles above us and I know it's going to rain any second. But that's not what has my attention. It's the way Kie moves closer to Pope and how her hand gently caresses his cheek. Then their lips meet and they're embraced together as one.

My mouth physically drops to the floor and I cover it with my hand. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Only hours before, the two of them couldn't be further away from this moment. Pope hated her and Kie was adamant about being nothing but friends. I guess Kie did have a thing for Pope. She tried convincing herself otherwise and it didn't work.

JJ laughs next to me and squeezes me tighter to his side. He shakes his head but smiles proudly at his best friend for finally making his move.

Unfortunately, the moment is ruined by another wave of police sirens closer than I wish they were.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry to ruin the party, but, uh, we gotta go right now," JJ says. Kie and Pope pull away from each other, both of them wearing delirious grins. "Come on!"

As we move towards the car, a round of about four different cop cars surround us with their red and blue lights and loud sirens. JJ backs up, making sure I'm right behind him by clutching my wrist behind his back.

"Pope..." Kie says worriedly.

"Move! Hands up! Hands up!" Officer Shoupe approaches us first with a mean scowl on his face. He looks at each one of us, no doubt looking for John B.

"Pope, hands," Kie says through clenched teeth when Pope hesitates to comply.

Shoupe's eyes land on mine and he holds my stare for a second longer than everyone else's. I make sure to keep my face stoic and unreadable even though I want to proudly smirk in his face and even say 'ha ha.'

"We're too late. He's gone. God damn it!" He says to his team. He speaks into his radio strapped on his shoulder. "Bratcher, have your guys stand down. Let me talk to these kids." Shoupe approaches us again and looks directly at me. "All right, where the hell is he? Where the hell is he?" When I don't say anything or even as much breathe in his direction, he looks at JJ. "JJ? I see you're living up to your name." Then he looks at Pope. "Pope, how about you? This isn't a fucking game! You can do the right thing now! Where'd he go?" Shoupe glances one last time at me before looking behind my shoulder. He pulls his radio up to his lips. "Suspect has just left Station 26 in a small boat."

The man on the radio responds. "Need marine patrol to respond."

Another crack of thunder strikes a new wave of nerves through my body. John B's barely out of here and I don't know if the storm is going to hold off long enough to give him a steady getaway.

Next thing I know we're being tossed in two separate vehicles. I keep my teeth clenched and my eyes forward. I pretend to look strong and committed when all I feel is nervous and scared.

The police bring us into a large tent set up to protect them from the rain. I'm literally in shock by how many people are here, working together to find my brother. Many men and women walk past us with rain jackets with the letters FBI on their backs in gold bold letters. I'm literally speechless by how important these people think my brother is.

Every word that comes from these people's mouths sound like a code I'm trying to decipher as they speak to one another.

"They're still trying to verify..."

"Mobilized..."

"Follow Plumb to that tent..."

"Wait for your friends..."

"...SBI on the scene..."

"They killed a person."

"This way." Someone physically tugs on my arm and pulls me to sit on a row of plastic chairs with my friends.

"...That's all you can say?"

Shoupe stands in front of me, temporarily distracting me from trying my best to eavesdrop on the other agents. "Sit down. Don't move. We got a lot to talk about." He looks at the agent who pulled me by my wrist. "Keep an eye on these kids."

I look up at the agent placed on babysitting duty. Younger, fit, brunette, stubble. He looks at each one of us like he's studying us, placing a mental bet on which one is going to break first. His gaze lands on me and he holds it longer than he did the others. They probably recognize my face as easily as they would recognize my brother's.

There's a lot going on inside and out this tent. Agents speak so fast with one another you might think they're speaking a different language. Every time thunder rumbles above us, I don't know if it's my heart or my stomach swirling with nausea. Rain is pouring down outside, each drop pelting against the concrete and drowning out the demands and orders of every superior agent.

The lights are bright against the dark wall that is outside. If I keep my eyes open for too long I think my head is going to explode.

I feel fingers interlocking with my right hand. JJ's looking at me like he's waiting for me to break like a fragile vase teetering off the countertop. I nod my head in a silent way of saying thank you and that I'm still confident our plan is going to work.

"Hey, we're back up. We got power," I hear someone announce.

My head snaps forward. I look outside the flaps of the tent opening. I can barely see the lighthouse, but the light circling around it is bright enough to light up the entire island.

"Shit," I curse to myself.

Ironically, power is all I wanted this summer. Mentally and, because of Hurricane Agatha, physically. But now, I dread it.

"That's them! There they are!"

Dozens of agents run outside with their binoculars, flashlights, and guns, and tasers. Immediately I stand up to follow, but just as quickly, I'm pushed back into my seat by our babysitter agent who isn't even cool enough to get an FBI windbreaker.

Kie's looking at me with as much fear as I'm feeling. My leg bounces anxiously and the hand I'm not using to squeeze JJ's is wrapped around the bottom of my seat tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

I try peering out through the plastic 'windows' of the tent which are just clear plastic tarps cut out in squares in the tent. Boats with red, white, and blue lights chase after another boat in the water - a boat that would be impossible to see if the lighthouse was still out of power.

"Subject is changing heading. They're heading south."

I look at our baby sitter's radio that's gripped tightly in his hand.

"Subject is attempting to escape to the south."

I look at JJ with wide eyes. "He's going straight into the storm."

I don't know if it's a second, a minute, or an hour later, but my name is being called. Another agent, this one more superior than the others, stands in front of me. He's tall, bald, has light brown skin, and bright hazel eyes. He's not smiling but he looks pleased with himself nonetheless and I don't know why because John B isn't captured yet.

"I think your brother would like to speak with you," He says.

My jaw tightens and I narrow my eyes in his direction. I don't believe him. John B wouldn't ask for me unless he knew this was the end. And it isn't. It can't be.

But if it is and I don't talk to my brother one last time, I will hate myself forever.

So I follow him despite the calls of disagreement coming from my friends. He and a couple agents behind him pull me into another tent where more important agents are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

People move out of my way like I'm Paris Hilton and they're the paparazzi. They look at me like I'm a celebrity and they're speechless with surprise and judgement.

But I don't care about the FBI, Kildare's cops, the rain or the storm. I care about the man sitting on the other end of the fold up table with a pair of headphones around his head and a fake look of concern on his face.

Ward looks up. When he sees me, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Ms. Routledge," The agent says to grab my attention.

I'm placed in a seat in front of Ward on the other side of the table. I don't take my eyes off of him for even a second. It's the first time I'm seeing him since our day on his boat. I hate that he's sitting here like he's a fucking victim and not the man who should be behind bars. I hate that he's being treated like an ally while my brother is being chased like a criminal.

But I love that he's looking at me like I can change all of that.

I take the headset from a woman agent next to me and place them on top of my head. I'm instantly met with rustling and whistling of the wind. A couple of disgruntled grunts swim through my ears and I know I'm listening to John B rolling through the storm on the Phantom.

"Don't listen to him. He's a liar!" John B yells into his radio. His voice comes out through the FBI's speaker so everyone can hear. Ward's lips press into a thin line and his hands tighten around the circular end of the headphones by his ear.

They must have tried to get Ward to talk John B down first. Maybe it's because Ward is technically still our legal guardian or maybe...

Maybe Sarah ended up finding him after all.

Ward finally rips his eyes away from me and looks down. "John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around." I'm met with nothing but heavy breathing from the other end. I hold my own breath and make sure not to move even an inch so I don't miss a single word that my brother has to say. My heart feels like it's being twisted, shredded, and torn apart by a wild bear. John B is in danger. Not by the cops but by mother nature herself. Out in the ocean where he can disappear forever. Just like my father did. And the thought itself is absolute torture. "John B, what are you doing?"

There's another long pause with seconds lasting as long as hours. My hear skips a beat when my brother finally speaks up again. "Ward Cameron, do you hear me?"

Ward looks at me again and slowly brings nods. "Yes. Yes, son, I'm right here. I'm right here. Please bring her back, okay? We'll work it all out when you get home."

I jump up from the table so fast, my hips bump against the table and shake the radio display on it. "You son of a bitch!" I yell at him, not caring about the hands pushing me by my shoulders to sit back down. Or the barks of other agents telling me to calm down. I want to rip Ward's head off his stupid shoulders and punt it into the deepest part of the ocean. Or a log shredder.

"You killed my father!" John B shouts through the speaker. It's the only thing that actually gets me to calm down and I glare straight into Ward's eyes. I don't pay attention to how the agents react to John B's accusation, because even with the truth out there, I don't trust them to move on it. At the end of the day Ward Cameron is Ward Cameron and my brother is just John Booker Routledge. "And you framed me for a murder I didn't commit. You took everything from me! You took everything from me! But I'm still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what's mine. So, you listen to me, all right? I'm coming for you." A small smirk tugs at the corner of my lips and a sense of pride runs through my fingertips from John B finally standing up for himself. "I'm coming for you."

For once, Ward Cameron looks shitless. Like he did when he realized his mistake on our fishing trip.

"You." The agent next to me points at the radio set and looks at me. "Talk to him! Talk to him!"

I look back at Ward Cameron and place the headset on my head. A crack of thunder shakes around me and I physically flinch away from it. "John B?"

Another pause. Silence that is deafening. "Marleigh? You okay?"

I can't help but laugh. "Come on, brother. You should know by now cops don't scare me."

I can actually hear John B laugh on the other end and it's the only thing that makes me feel better. "Yeah, I know."

"Are you sure about this, Johnny?"

I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for his reply. "I'd rather die than go to jail for something I didn't do, Mar."

I feel the wall I put up when I was placed in front of Ward Cameron crumble within seconds. Tears cloud my vision at the realization that nothing I can do will stop John B from driving straight into that storm. And I hate that I understand him for it. Because I would do the same thing.

I look up at Ward as tears trail down my cheeks silently. I can tell he's calculating my next move, waiting for me to stop my brother.

"I'll take care of this, okay?"

"I know. You've always taken care of me." His voice cracks and another ripple of thunder rips through the sky. "I love you, Rocket."

A sob wracks through me and I push myself away from the microphone so he doesn't hear me feeling weak. When I gather my composure I push myself closer to the radio. "I love you, Bird."

The head agent slams his palm against the table in frustration. "No!"

I close my eyes and let the tears drown my vision. I feel like I've been placed in an ice bath. Frozen to the core, wanting to kick and scream my way out of it, feeling numb but also like I'm being ripped apart by something sharp.

Another agent walks out. "I wanna have Search and Rescue standing by."

"Any response?" A woman asks another agent.

That other agent shakes his head. "They're not calling it off yet."

Everyone's running around, talking into their ear pieces and looking at one another for any kind of clue on what to do next. I refuse to look at them because I know what's going to come next.

John B use to tell me that being a pessimist would be my downfall. He was always an optimist - hoping and aiming for the best. Believing Dad was alive kept him going where telling myself he wasn't helped me move on. Growing up, we would butt heads a lot. But as a team, we worked well together because he pushed me to go further in life and I helped him stay grounded when it was necessary.

But today, being a pessimist is my strength. Because I'm prepared when Officer Shoupe approaches me with a sullen and sorrowful expression. I don't even have to ask what's wrong because I know it's the last thing I want to hear.

"Marleigh," He says. I think it's the first time he's ever talked to me like I'm a person with feelings and not some teenager causing chaos on his island.

I'm nauseous. My heart is thudding against my chest so heavily I think it might crack a couple ribs. The blood running through my veins feels like it's been lit on fire and I'm on the verge of exploding. The dread and the devastation runs through me in half a second and then is suddenly replaced by a blinding white flare of rage.

"You!" I turn on my heels and try running up to Ward Cameron to wrap my hands around his throat, to pull a gun from the nearest agent and shoot him in the head with it, to tear his eyes out with my finger nails. But I'm easily stopped by the millions of agents that surround both of us. They physically pull me away, barely even flinching as I try clawing through them to get my hands on the entitled Kook in front of me. "This is all your fault! You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you! No - get off of me!"

I kick and scream until my throat is raw and my legs feel weak. Ward is pulled away from me so he can grieve the death of his own daughter. I only stop thrashing around when my body goes limp. My legs are rubber and my head is heavy. I fall to the floor and fold into my knees and cry the hardest I have ever cried before. I cry for the loss of my brother. For Sheriff Peterkin. For the justice my dad will never get. For the gold he's worked so hard to get live on without his name ever being mentioned with it.

I don't know how long I stay on the floor until someone helps me up. They place a windbreaker over my shoulders and walk with me to the tent where my friends are waiting for me.

My heart is a bloodless organ, my head a hollow skull. I can't feel anything from the thinnest part of my fingertips to the deepest emotion in my brain.

I follow Officer Shoupe and two other agents back to my friends like a zombie. I can't even look at my friends because I'm afraid they'll feel the same heated pain that I'm experiencing and I don't want that.

Shoupe looks at them the same way he looked at me.

"Did you find them?" JJ immediately stands up. He tries meeting my eyes but I keep them focused on the dirt ground below me.

"No," Shoupe says.

"So, they got away?" I hate the hope laced in JJ's voice.

Another crackle of thunder makes me flinch.

Shoupe sighs. "We, uh...we lost them." He looks up. "I'm sorry."

A deafening silence falls around us and I finally look up. JJ's brows are pinched together in confusion and anger, Kie's about to burst into tears, and Pope looks frozen in shock.

"What do you mean you lost them?" Pope asks. "Like they're gone?"

"What are you talking about?" JJ demands.

Again Shoupe sighs. "They took an open boat into a tropical depression, Pope."

"So they're dead?" Pope asks.

"We don't know."

JJ snaps. He takes a threatening step towards the set of officers and points an accusatory finger at them. "You drove them through the storm, man! Are you kidding me? Come here!" It takes two agents to pull JJ away from Officer Shoupe. "I'm gonna kill you."

I don't even react to the outburst because I can't. I can't feel anything other than my own teeth clattering together and my lip quivering with the threat of a new round of tears.

"JJ, stop!" Kie tries to calm him down through her own sobs. But even I know, she's wasting her breath.

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!"

"Hey!" An agent scolds him.

"You killed him! He didn't kill anyone and you know it!" Pope yells along with JJ. He doesn't try to attack like the blonde, but he makes sure to get as close to Shoupe as possible.

Shoupe sighs. "We're still looking for him, all right?"

"Pope. Pope, just stop!" Kie pleads. She grabs onto Pope's arm and pulls him closer into her body. "Please, stop."

When JJ proves he's calm, he pulls me into him and holds me tight against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and let myself fall apart for a second time. I cry into his shoulder, not caring about the snot or tears that will probably ruin his second best button down shirt. I grip onto him so tight that I wouldn't be surprised if my fingernails ripped holes into the fabric. He's the only reason I'm still standing on my two feet. I can't feel my legs.

"Pope...Pope!"

Mr. and Mrs. Heyward run into the tent followed by Kie's parents. All four of them run to their kids and pull them into their own family group hugs.

I watch even though the sight destroys me. Kie with her two parents. Pope with his. I observe the way they hold their children, kiss the top of their head, and tell them everything is going to be alright. Pope keeps mumbling about how sorry he is and Kie is weeping into her mothers neck.

They have that and I don't. Not anymore. It's all been ripped away from me like a toddler and chocolate they're not allowed to have.

But it makes me even more grateful for JJ. Even though I hate that he's in the same boat as me, I know I can always rely on him to be by my side. We have each other and even though it doesn't always seem like enough, it is.

There's nothing that I wouldn't do for this man. He's my light at the end of a dark and dreary tunnel. My guide in life to live it to the fullest without any regrets. My life partner that's going to make me the happiest girl on the island one day. I couldn't ask for anything more from the love of my life.

Mr. Heyward looks up from his family moment and holds out his arm for JJ and I to join. JJ and I take advantage of it and let Pope's parents hold us like a parent should, despite any hateful feelings they have towards us for leading Pope down this road with us.

My brother's gone and I don't know how to comprehend that yet. I don't know where life's going to lead me and the future went from being adrenaline inducing to absolutely terrifying. With Kie, Pope, and JJ by my side, I'm hopeful that I can get through pretty much anything.

JJ's my rock and my leader. I will love him until the universe physically pulls him away from me. With him, I'll take on life one day at a time. Each one will be a struggle, but I made a promise to John B that I refuse not to keep until the day I die.

I will take care of this. I will make sure Ward Cameron gets what's coming to him. And I will not let him take anything else away from me. Not even over my dead body.

Taglist: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @moniamaybank @realistic-breadstick @urbinoutfiters @jeeperky @brebear121 @x-lulu @freddymaybank @jjpouggues @lemur46 @is-it-really-a-secret @kkmikayla @folkloverr @alexa-playafricabytoto @jjxrudy @migilini @buckysbcrnes @rochyu @itsagurl @dazzlingnights

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x oc #outer banks rewrite

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pink-imagines · 4 years

Text

interruption

request: Izuku proposing to reader but then his ex shows up saying she’s pregnant with his child but really she’s just a lying bitch

a/n: anon this sounded very personal, are you okay?

but like you know my pillow talk series?? i kind of imagine it being in the same timeline as this?? because it makes sense in my head but idk-

warnings: angst, but with a fluffy ending

masterlist

requesting rules

It had been a while since you had gotten to spend alone time with your long-time boyfriend Izuku. Finally you could just relax and not worry about the fact that your boyfriend could get hurt in a hero accident. You were walking along the beach together, with the sun setting in the background. It was a cheesy scene, but it was beautiful. Izuku’s hand was gently intertwined with yours and you were slowly swinging back and forth as you were walking. When you felt Izuku squeeze your hand lightly you looked over at him, he usually only did that when he got nervous. “Are you okay?”, you asked softly as you stopped walking. You were in the middle of the beach, where there weren’t a lot of people around. The pink sky reflected in the glistening water. “Um... yeah...”, he nodded and rocked back and forth on the soles of his feet, “I just think that this is a good time to tell you something but I’m really nervous.” “You know you can tell me anything, right?”, you smiled and took both of his hands in your own. “Yeah I know, but this is... it’s pretty serious.”, he chuckled slightly. “Oh no, are you breaking up with me?”, you joked to try to lighten the mood. “No, no, no...”, he shook his head and let out a tiny nervous laugh, “I just want to say that I really love you.” “Okay..?”, you gave him a confused look, “Was that it? Because you’ve definitely told me that before.” He let go of your hands and fiddled with something in the pocket of his jacket. “I really love you... and I hope that I’m not alone in thinking that I want to keep living with you...” “You’re not.”, you shook your head, completely oblivious to what was happening. “... I want to stay with you, and love you, for the rest of my life.”, he proclaimed and got down on one knee, “So, would you marry me?” He pulled out a blue velvet box and opened it to show a ring, the one that you had looked at for a bit as you passed it while walking by a few stores. Of course he’d be the one to remember something small like that. “Y-”, you were cut off before you could even answer. “Izuku Midoriya!”, someone shouted.

The both of you looked over to where the sound was coming from. It was a woman, dressed in blue, storming towards you. You didn’t recognize her at all but by the look on Izuku’s face you realized that he did. “Hina-”, he started but she shushed him almost immediately. “Ssch! I don’t want to hear it!”, she flailed her arms around as she was talking, making the sleeves of her dress flop, “Are you seriously promising yourself to another person when I’m carrying your child?” The question hit you like a brick in the gut. Child? Was she pregnant with Izuku’s child? How and when? You two had been dating for two years! “Hina that doesn’t-” “And you!”, she pointed at you with a perfectly manicured nail, “You’re stealing him away from me, that’s why he left! It’s your fault that I’m raising this child alone!” “Miss, I think there’s a misunderstanding-” “How dare you-” “Miss!”, you raised your voice at her, “I’m really sorry that you have to go through that alone, but this is not the place to have this kind of discussion. It would be impossible for you to be pregnant right now, since I’ve been dating Izuku for two years. If you can’t show me evidence that you-” “I have evidence!”, she interrupted you once again. “Then could you please show me that, because I refuse to believe that my boyfriend is a cheater.”, your tone got more stern over time. “Y/N...”, Izuku grabbed your hand, “... you don’t have to deal with this.” “She’s accusing you of cheating on me, I’m involved with this now.”, you told him. “Here!”, Hina showed you a picture of a pregnancy test on her phone. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but I can see the search bar. You should’ve cropped the picture if you wanted it to look more realisitc.”, you sighed, “Why are you trying to ruin this moment for us? Are you doing this for publicity?” You noticed the amount of people that had gathered around you. “Hina, I broke it off because we couldn’t manage our time schedules together.”, Izuku stepped in, “I don’t think ill of you but if you do this-” “How dare you say this is fake!? I’m with his child!”, at this point you felt like slapping her in the face but you restrained yourself. “We’re gonna leave now.”, Izuku sighed and pulled you away from the situation by your hand. In the background you heard people shouting at each other, mostly Izuku’s ex shouting at people who accused her of ruining your proposal, and you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You had kept it together so well during this entire interaction but... the day that was supposed to be the most wonderful day of your life turned into the most embarrassing day of your life. “I called my driver, he’ll be here in a few minutes-”, Izuku looked over at you to see you crying, “Baby, don’t cry... you didn’t believe her, did you?”, his tone of voice changed from harsch to soft in a matter of seconds. “No...”, you shook your head and looked away from him, “... I... I just want to go home...”

When you got home you walked immediately in to the bathroom to take a long hot shower. You didn’t want Izuku to feel like it was his fault for you feeling like this but you just needed to be alone. Once your shower was finished you leaned yourself against the door, slowly sliding down and sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest... what were you going to do? There was a light knock on the door just then, startling you a little bit. “Hey, baby...”, Izuku said on the other side of the door, “... we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to... but I ordered your favorite food and maybe we could spend the night watching that show you wanted to start watching with me?” You really didn’t deserve him. “... that sounds nice...”, you muttered. “Good. I’m taking another day off tomorrow, okay?”, he didn’t wait for your reply, “And I’ll bring you some clothes that you can change into.” “... can you get me the hoodie?”, you asked softly. The hoodie was a very oversized hoodie, even for Izuku, that he had bought you for when he was away for longer trips. “Of course.”, he said. When you heard him walk away you got up to the mirror over the sink and washed your face. You looked around for a face mask and eventually found one. The door opened as you took up the packaging. You looked at Izuku who was standing with the hoodie and a pair of sweatpants in his arms. You showed him the face mask packaging, asking if he wanted to do one with you with your eyes. He nodded and put the clothes down on the toilet. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”, he kissed your forehead, “Don’t start without me, I just gotta bring the food in.” Sometimes you really thought he had a sixth sense because right then the doorbell rang.

The apartment smelled of your favorite food and you absolutely loved it. You were sitting with Izuku on the couch with face masks on, eating. The hoodie still smelled a lot like him, despite having been in the wardrobe for so long. You suspected that Izuku had sprayed his cologne on it at some point. Neither of you had talked for a really long time, you were simply watching the show together. Usually you’d be all over each other but now you were sitting next to one another, with your knees barely touching. Izuku reached for the remote and paused the show, making you look over at him. “I feel like we should talk about it...”, he said, “... I really hope you know that what she was saying wasn’t true and-” “Izuku.”, you put your hand on his knee, “I would never think of you in that way, ever. I know she was lying, okay? I was just... it was supposed to be a perfect moment and you had picked the perfect place, then it was ruined.” You felt tears burning in your eyes and you quickly blinked to get rid of them. “We can have another moment, okay? I know the surprise of it is kind of ruined, but we can do something else... we’re not the most usual couple, so we should have an unusual proposal too.”, he gave you a soft smile. “I guess you’re right.”, you chuckled, “... we should go take these face masks off.”

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed and the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. Despite wanting to stay in bed for an extra “five minutes”, you got up and started walking towards the kitchen. The hoodie was still on, protecting you from the cold air outside of your covers. When you walked up to the kitchen table you saw your favorite dishes prepared for breakfast. There was everything from miso soup to kobachi and nori. On either side of the table, where the two chairs were placed, stood a bowl of steamed rice- one for you and one for Izuku. You looked over to the kitchen to see Izuku cleaning up the dishes. With sleep still in your eyes you smiled and walked up to him. Soft music was playing from a speaker, low enough so that it wouldn’t wake you up before, and he probably didn’t hear you walk up behind him. Izuku was always very alert unless he was deep in thought, and so you guessed that was why he didn’t immediately turn around to you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your forehead against his back. He jumped a bit at the sudden contact. “Good morning.”, you muttered and kissed his back lightly. “Oh, you scared me...”, Izuku took a deep breath, “I was just about to come wake you up.” “Thank you for making breakfast.”, you let go of him so that he could turn around. “I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep.”, he said softly, “I thought I could make myself useful.” He looked down at you with a smile that made your heart grow wings and fly to the heavens. All you wanted to do was hug the fuck out of him, you didn’t know how else you could react. “You don’t need to be useful for me to love you.”, you said and leaned yourself against his chest, “But I’m very thankful for the breakfast, it looks delicious.” “Let’s go eat then, hm?”

You ate mostly in silence, enjoying each others precense. There wasn’t much to talk about unless it was about yesterday’s drama, but that wasn’t a breakfast topic. When you had finished most of the food Izuku took a familiar blue velvet box out of his pocket and slid it across the table to you. His hand stayed on it while looking you in the eyes. “I was thinking about doing it again when I take you out for dinner tonight... but a public setting isn’t the best place to do it appereantly.”, he said softly, “I know it’s not that nice of a proposal. If I could I would’ve done it with a hundered roses at the beach-” “It’s perfect...”, you put your hand on top of his, “... it’s perfect because you’re the one who’s saying it and there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Izuku sat up and walked up next to you, where he knealt down on one knee and took both of your hands in his. “I love you.”, he kissed your knuckles softly, “And I’ll love you forever, no matter what... do you want to marry me?” “Yes, I do.”, you gave him a warm smile. Izuku picked up the box and opened it before taking out the ring. You offered your left hand to him and let him slide the ring on your ringfinger. “I love you too.”, you said through a smile and leaned in to kiss him.

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

contemporary

Insert Coin - Chapter 1 / Series Masterlist

Byakuya pointed to the ‘guest list’ in front of (Y/n), “You can take the girls, I’m sure it’ll make them more comfortable than if I were to pat them down for weapons.”

“Right,” the girl nodded, tapping a pen against the dining room table a few times, “I can’t wait, I think this is exactly what everyone needs to de-stress!”

Nodding, Byakuya sat on a chair beside his peer, a fist pressed to his lips with his brows creased in deep thought. He reached into his white coat to pull out a manila envelope and lay it flat on the table, his eyes peeked around the room before sliding the envelope closer to her, “I received this today. It was in my mailbox.”

Quirking a brow, (Y/n) hesitantly took the envelope with shaking hands before opening it to remove the letter, eyes widening at the hastily written message and clutching it to her chest as if to hide it. She pursed her lips, “Who sent it?”

Shaking his head, Byakuya sighed quietly, “I’m not entirely sure.”

“Troubling, to say the least,” she shook her head before slowly pressing the paper back inside the manila folder, “Well, I- I’m sure we’ll be fine. We can handle this, besides, we’re taking all possible weapons - there’s no chance anybody will die tonight.”

Pressing the envelope back inside his coat, Byakuya forced himself to nod, leaning back to the party-planning paper in front of (Y/n), “We’ll have to keep an eye on Teruteru, specifically. He’ll likely have knives in the kitchen.”

“Right,” she nodded in understanding, glad to come to an understanding with the Ultimate Affluent Progeny.

“BE CAREFUL! The first kill will happen tonight. Someone will definitely kill someone.”

“Enjoy the party!” (Y/n) called after Hiyoko and Mahiru as they went into the old building, Kazuichi and Hajime already approaching the pair, “Hajime, I can get you over here, if you’re comfortable with it.”

Hajime left Kazuichi with Byakuya, hands coming up and cheeks filling with soft red as (Y/n) pat him down for weapons.

“Hey!” Kazuichi’s whine broke the pair’s concentration.

Looking over, (Y/n) watched as Byakuya unlocked his duralumin case and tossed in a wrench he must’ve found in Kazuichi’s jumpsuit. Giving Hajime a thumbs up, the girl waved him inside, “You’re all good, enjoy the party!”

“Yeah, okay…”

“Man,” Kazuichi whined even louder, “that was my comfort wrench!”

“Oh, poor guy,” (Y/n) mumbled, frowning slightly.

“He’ll be fine,” Byakuya shook off the girl’s concern, “He can have it back after the party.”

“I suppose,” (Y/n) sighed, leaning out into the hall to listen for the laughter of her classmates, “I think everyone but Fuyuhiko is in, but he was pretty out-there about not showing up, huh?”

“Should we head inside, then?”

“Yeah,” the girl immediately nodded, trying to hide how excited she was at the prospect of joining the party.

“You first,” Byakuya gestured further down the hall, picking up her duralumin case, “I’ll see if someone can guard the other case, no offense but you don’t appear very combat-centric.”

“None taken,” (Y/n) giggled softly, “You’re right. I’ve never been great in fights.”

Of course, it’d be natural to assume. Since when would an Ultimate Peacekeeper be a warhead?

“Are you sure you don’t need any more help? I feel like I should be doing more,” (Y/n) muttered.

Byakuya shook his head, “I’m entrusting you to keep the others calm and happy during the party. Allow me to handle things from behind the scenes.”

“If you’re sure,” the girl pulled open the door to the party and held it open, “I’ll check on everyone in the hall if you want to check with Teruteru.”

Giving silent affirmation, Byakuya walked in, heading straight towards Hajime oddly enough.

(Y/n) went over to a shaking Mikan, giving the girl a gentle smile, “How’re you feeling? Need something to drink?”

“N-no!” Mikan nervously smiled, “I- I’m fine! Don’t w-w-worry about me!”

“Alright, if you need anything, anything at all, let me know,” (Y/n) gave the nurse a small wave as she began walking away, “Even if it’s just to talk.”

“Ah, (Y/n)!” Nagito cheered, catching the girl’s attention, “Glad to see I’m not the last one here,” he gestured to his own body, “I had to wash up after cleaning.”

Glancing around the room, (Y/n) finally took in how much cleaner the building was post-Nagito, “Wow, you really didn’t mess around with this place, huh? Great job, Nagito, I knew you’d crush it!”

The boy’s eyes widened, hands coming up in front of his chest, as if in need of defending himself, “You really think so? It honestly wasn’t much.”

“You’re kidding,” (Y/n) shook her head, “This place was disgusting before you came in, don’t be shy to take some pride in your work.”

A soft puff of laughter fell from Nagito’s lips, a warm, oddly calming smile rising to his pale lips, “To have an Ultimate like you praise me. I could die happy now.”

“You’re an Ultimate too, you know?”

“There it is,” Nagito closed his eyes, as if having come to nirvana itself - a peace known to few, and taken in completely by fewer - with his sweet grin still in place, “Such hope. I admire it, truly,” before she could respond, Nagito nodded solidly to himself, “As much as I wish to admire the hope inside you more, there’s something I have to do.”

“Oh?” (Y/n) scratched at her head in confusion as Nagito stalked off across the room, “Have fun and take care?” she called after the boy.

“That looked fun,” Hajime murmured, suddenly beside the peacekeeper.

Jumping at the sudden voice, (Y/n) gave the brunette a timid wave, “I didn’t notice you there, Hajime. How’s the party for you so far?”

Glancing around the hall, Hajime’s eyes landed on laughing groups and even those silently partaking in the food prepared by Teruteru. The most fragile smile crept over his lips, breakable in an instant if someone said the wrong thing. He nodded, “Yeah. I didn’t think this would be fun but it’s not as miserable as I was expecting.”

“Well,” (Y/n) tilted her head, heart swelling at the fact that Hajime was smiling, “that’s all Byakuya and I could ask for.”

“You more than him, I’m assuming.”

“Oh, he’s not all bad.”

Byakuya’s brows furrowed as the lights flickered, his gaze immediately falling onto a cord across the room and the pale hands connected to it. He pushed himself up from the wall, turning towards his ‘second-in-command’ at team-leading, “(Y/n)!”

“Huh?”

The lights went out. Darkness coddling the bodies inside it like a newborn babe wrapped in cloth. Welcoming. Frightful. It was hard to tell the difference. Her mind, in its uneasy race, went back to the note she’d been shown the day prior.

“BE CAREFUL! The first kill will happen tonight. Someone will definitely kill someone.”

The feeling of a hand latching onto her arm caused a small scream to bubble at the girl’s lips, just before she could release it a voice popped out from the inky black mere inches in front of her face, “It’s just me. Sorry, I should’ve said something.”

Hajime. It was only Hajime.

Nodding to herself, (Y/n) grabbed Hajime’s hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze before speaking to the crowd in a calm, nurturing voice, “Okay, everybody, everything will be fine, please don’t panic. We should stay calm so nobody gets hurt in the dark, I’m certain the power will come back on before we even know it.”

Her heartbeat betrayed her own tone. But in times like these, at any time where her talent was useful - it was best to shove your emotions to the back burner and pick up the pieces of panicked people around you. The mumbles and squeaks stopped and mere seconds later, the lights were illuminating the hall once again.

Golden light piercing the fears and unrest inside (Y/n)’s heart until finally, she was able to see her classmates properly. Excluding the blackout, the scene was rather peaceful. Everyone seemed to be getting along fine, even Hiyoko was mildly tolerating Mikan during the party.

Akane, however, didn’t seem to take notice of the sweet atmosphere at all. She was loudly sniffing at one of the tables, brows furrowed before turning to (Y/n), “Where’s Byakuya?”

Looking around, she just now was noticing how absent her senior was, “Probably in the kitchen or hall, why?”

“Because,” the brunette girl looked around once again, “I smell blood.”

#hajime hinata x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 reader insert #insert coin

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vinatintasupernovita · 3 years

Text

Cassandra sighed sourly as she swirled her drink in one hand, passively watching the party. It was supposed to be a grand celebration. Her brother had returned home after being lost to the vast Grecian world- how happy everyone was to see him, alive and well.

Well, everyone except her, that is.

Cassandra had liked it better when Troy was quiet- when she didn’t have to foresee so much. She always got the worst brunt of visions before one of her siblings went off on adventures, especially her damned brother Paris. She knew where he had been all along, canoodling with priestesses and angering farmers- but no one listened to her. No one ever listened to her when it came to her prophecies.

She stood at the walls of the palace hall, sipping on her first glass of alcohol in what would undoubtedly be the longest night in the last several moons. She listened to the loud revelry and almost wished she could be as blind as the rest of them had been in order to celebrate. But, that wasn’t the case now was it?

Her eyes wandered across the room, recognizing very few faces there. Mostly they were friends of Paris- the cheeky ass was the most beloved prince next to Hector. Half the city had to be there.

However, there was one figure in the crowd that caught Cassandra’s interest. A tall, muscular figure. Tanned and rugged in the way a warrior was, but with bright orange hair that fell just above their ears. Their eyes were dark yet shiny even across the room it was apparent how they glistened. They were quite a sight.

Suddenly, the room got blurry- the kind of blurry that Cassandra knew all too well.

In an instant, Cassandra saw their entire future together unfold right before her eyes. She saw the way that person- that stranger- would look at her during the first rays of morning light, their hands wrapped in one another’s gentle touch. She saw the way Troy toppled in the distance as they escaped on horseback. She saw fire and blood and flowers curling awake under the summer sun in a land far away from the only home she had ever known. She saw confessions of love and of.. other things. Things that were not for mere mortals to know.

Cassandra knew her prophecy was true, pure and undeniable. This, though? This was unlike any series of prophecies she had ever had. Maybe it was the shock of it all coming to her at once, but without even realizing it, she moved across the dance floor to meet her at the center.

Conquest was, to say the very least, surprised when a beautiful woman with honey-blond hair, freckled skin, and the most piercing black eyes she had ever seen took her hands and pulled her to the side.

“I know what you are.” When the words left Cassandra’s mouth, Conquest could feel her gut drop. “And you may not know me yet, but I’m your future.”

“Wh- Who are you?” Conquest asked, the tinge of surprise audible in her question. Cassandra squeezed her hands- and as if clockwork, Conquest felt her heart start to thump in her chest.

“My name is Cassandra.” She said, “I am the princess of these lands. I was blessed with the gift of prophecy. I can tell you are not a mortal, not like me nor my people. What you are is a mystery, though. One I cannot work out- yet, at least.”

That was a first.

“You were in my visions.” Cassandra explained, “I saw my entire life unfold the instant you walked into the room- in each scene, you were there. You.. you will become my everything.”

As if the gears in her brain started to slow to a manageable speed, Cassandra became more and more aware of how deeply intimate many of those scenes were. She could practically feel how Conquest would hold her- cherish her, even- in the times to come- and yet here she was, meeting her for the first time and probably scaring her- nice job, ever astute princess Cassandra.

“I..” She swallowed thickly as the embarrassment set in. “I’m sorry- the excitement of my visions overtakes me sometimes. That was so rude of me.”

Conquest was dumbfounded- she had heard of psychics before, of course, but never met one until now. And to think this Cassandra could tell that she wasn't a human so quickly? That was surprising. But what really stuck out to her was the fact that, apparently, she and Cassandra would get very close. Closer than close, from the sounds of it.

The idea didn’t surprise her- Conquest knew all of her siblings had their taste for humans- hell, that’s how she came to be after all, with War running off with her lady-love Helen of Sparta- but, until then, Conquest hadn’t considered the possibility that she too might take up a lover of her own.

She found humans attractive, sure, both men and women, and Cassandra was definitely attractive- but she hadn’t considered how to court a human, nor how it would intersect with her work.

But from the sounds of it, Cassandra was saying they would be together in every regard. It was.. a lot to consider, especially since they just met.

Cassandra’s building nerves were getting the better of her as she released Conquest from her grip, anxiously rubbing her own arm as she waited for a response of any kind.

“I am Sienna,” She said, following the only examples she knew by slowly taking Cassandra’s hand again and placing it to her lips, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my future.”

Oh, so being smooth was hereditary then, alright.

“..The pleasure is all mine, my everything.” There was a smile creeping its way onto Cassandra’s face, and Conquest decided right away that she liked this courting thing.

#im being gay and thinking abt them #conquest x cassandra #fresa is talking about their ocs #im not tagging GO rn cus it’s an oc of an au w a greek mythos princess. but y’all get it #fresa’s fics

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

tozier • ben hanscom

(ben hanscom x tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here's my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: swearing, smut, unedited bc im a lazy asshole

ok guys here’s part one of the new series! i’ll probably have to go back in and edit some stuff n probably change the name but lmk what u guys think and what u wanna see for the next parts :)

[losers and reader are in college in this.]

2.8k words

♡

you know richie pretty well, if you say so yourself. hell, you grew up with him - you've known him your whole entire life and even now, as 19 and 20 year olds, you're still at each other’s throats constantly.

naturally, growing up with richie as your brother was full of ups and downs - like the time that you were still a baby in your crib and he'd curiously wandered into your nursery and twisted your finger, causing it to break. or, that time when you two got into a fight over who took the last of the ice cream in the freezer and didn't speak to each other for almost three whole days.

but there were really good times, too - like when richie picked you up after your disastrous senior prom night and drank vodka with you in the back of his pickup truck while you threw rocks at the creepy house on neibolt street. or the time where you bought him a new pair of glasses so your parents wouldn't kill him for breaking them and he bought you ice cream for a month as a thank you.

richie was the most frustrating, annoying, rude, arrogant older brother, and yet even when you were away at separate colleges, you talked on the phone almost every night.

you share one of those really, really competitive relationships - a lot of it, you’ve realized, stems from your parents constantly pitting you two against each other to vie for their attention and praise. but no matter, you still hated richie most of the time and he hated you just as much.

but right now, you might fucking murder him.

you have so much hatred for him as you storm down your stairs, phone clutched violently in your palm as you stalk into the basement, hollering, "richard!" at the top of your lungs. it's a hot august afternoon and you've just come back from the pool with your best friend, now filled to the brim with white hot rage for your brother.

when you'd been at the pool, cecily, your best friend, had stretched her neck and you'd noticed a hickey (naturally, you'd teased her about it). but when you pried, she got secretive and defensive until it finally slipped out that the boy she'd been with was none other than your gangly, stupid older brother, richie.

you were completely disgusted and beyond addled as to why she'd choose richie, of all people, but more than that you were extremely pissed and stormed off, driving home with knuckles tight against the steering wheel.

and now, as you make it down to the last step of the basement, you're aware that you're still in your bathing suit with shorts thrown haphazardly on top as you storm towards your fuckwit brother.

he and all of the losers he hung out with are down here, sprawled on the large sofas and on the floor in front of the tv. you don't dare break your eye contact with richie as you glare, face heated with anger.

"well hey there, little sis. what's got your knickers in a knot?" he says with a lopsided grin that you just want to punch clean off his face. he's sitting between ben and bill and you turn a little pink as you notice both boys’ eyes on your body. yet you barely think for a second before slapping richie straight across his cheek, hard.

the slap is a sickening sound as it quiets the whole room - you can feel bev's eyes on you, hear eddie's short gasp, and see out of the corner of your eyes as stan turns his head to watch the scene. richie stares at you, hand on his cheek. "what the hell, y/n?" he asks with a glare as he stands up, rising to his full height above you. but you’re not afraid.

"you talk to cecily today?" you ask with feigned sweetness, a sick smile on your face as you cross your arms. richie just blinks at you, mouth opening and closing like the dumbass he is. "how long have you been fucking her?" you ask when he says nothing.

the room bursts in exclamations after your words - from mike's "you didn't." to bill's "what the f-fuck is wrong with you, m-man?" and ben's, "oh my god, dude."

richie just shakes his head, looking way too casual as he places a hand on your shoulder with a grin, "y/n/n, can we talk about this later? we’re trying to watch jeopardy." he smirks, but you immediately shake his arm off, recoiling in frustration as you glare at him. "no, richie! you’ve been fucking my best friend! my ONLY friend!" you ask, shaking your head. “you’re such a shitty person, i fucking hate you. why did you do it?”

as you make eye contact, he sighs almost forlornly, as if he’s about to apologize. but this is richie, so of course he doesn’t. "....she's just so fuckin’ hot." he says with a grin.

you take a sharp breath, rubbing your face with your hands as you back away towards the stairs.

"c'mon, sis! don't be so sensitive." he calls to your back and you can practically hear the nasty grin in his voice. you hear eddie hiss, "quit being a fucking asshole." to your brother and you want to scream. "don't fucking talk to me, richie." you snap as you make it up the stairs, ignoring richie as he laughs his stupid hyena laughter.

you're finally changed out of your suit and into a shirt and shorts by the time you've calmed down enough to take a few deep breaths. a knock makes you jump, though, and you glare at the closed door. as you're about to yell for whoever it is to go away, you're stopped by a voice.

"hey, y/n." ben's voice sounds through the door, and it's almost shocking how quickly your shoulders relax. you smile shyly as you open the door, your heart beating wildly, this time not from anger but out of your proximity to ben.

ben hanscom had been your brother’s friend for a while, and you simply did not understand. all of them are jackasses, richie being the king of the pack, but ben really does seem to be so fucking genuine. maybe it’s because you’ve always had a small thing for him, but then again it may just be because you’re furious with richie.

"hi, ben. sorry i was.... sorry about that." you say awkwardly as he walks into your room and shuts the door gently. he laughs quietly as he leans against your wall, looking down at you knowingly. "it's richie's fault. you have every right to be mad. he’s a dick sometimes"

you nod thoughtfully, touched that ben came to check in on you. "i know he is. you know, i'm not even mad that they had sex, honestly, i’m just mad because i know he did it to piss me off." you say, biting your lip as you stare up at ben, his hair glinting under the soft light of your lamp.

ben nods as he reaches out to rub your shoulder, making your stomach flutter as you look up at him. "if i can be honest, you two have the weirdest relationship i've ever seen, y/n. i'm sorry he did that and didn’t tell you, that's really unfair."

you smile lightly at the floor where your feet point towards his. "well now i have, like, nobody to hang out with this summer." you mumble, thinking about how cecily is really your only friend from derry, and how all your college friends live hundreds of miles away.

you shrug, leaning into ben's touch. "you have me to keep me company, though." he says with a shy grin, cheeks heating up at your smile.

"oh, just you? i like the sound of that." you ask, lifting a brow playfully. he chuckles a bit at your look and it makes your chest flutter.

"yeah, of course you do, y/n." he says as he pulls you into a hug. he's warm and smells like cinnamon cologne and it makes your chest glow sweetly. you pull back only slightly, hands sliding up to his chest as you look into his golden eyes. "ben..." you whisper softly, eyes going down to his lips and then bouncing back up, not wanting to make a move if he's not comfortable with it.

he clearly is thinking the same thing, because you're both moving closer and closer, his hands lightly squeezing your hips as he stares at you with hooded eyes. "yeah?" he asks, just as quietly. you swallow, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap just to see what it'd be like. to have one of richie's friends, for a change.

you don't know how to initiate it, though. "do you want to-"

"yes." he rushes out quickly, apprehension only flashing across his face just after he'd rushed out the answer, in fear that you'd been overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. but it's enough for you, and you grin slightly before pulling him into a kiss.

his lips are hot on yours, your hair still drying from the chlorine at the pool as his fingers tangle in the strands. you moan a bit out of shock, having not kissed anyone in a while and feeling touch starved. his hands are strong and soft in all the best ways and you try not to smirk as you think about your stupid brother sitting in the basement, currently unaware of what you’re about to do with one of his best friends upstairs.

but then, just as your hand slips to the hem of ben’s jeans, he pulls back a bit. “is this a bad idea?” he asks.

you sigh, looking away. “yes.” you say with barely any hesitation. “but i don’t fucking care.” you say honestly, and ben grins, “well, me neither. you’re...” he looks you up and down before smiling. “so fucking pretty.” he ends with and your stomach flutters, face growing hot at the compliment.

"but i don't want to, like.... t-take advantage of this situation, or-" ben starts, but you shake your head, biting your lip as you stare at him. he's so fucking amazing, so caring. he's always been like this - respectful, considerate, and interested in your well being, which really just makes you want him even more.

"no, ben, i... i really want this. if-if you do too." you say honestly, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him through your lashes. he grins as he nods. "you sure?"

you giggle, pulling him towards you by his neck. "yes. are you, ben?" you ask as he leans down closer. "definitely." he whispers against your lips, his breath coming out in a short huff. and then his lips are on yours, pressing strongly and fully as you stumble a bit, grasping him tightly as you kiss back.

he presses you against him, hand at the small of your back as he moves his tongue deftly against your lip, exploring your mouth as you suppress a moan. one moment later, you pull back a bit.

"you're not..." you trail off, and he shakes his head. "no, are you?" he asks, and you also shake your head as you cup his cheek and pull him back in for a kiss. "me neither." you mutter, falling back down onto the mattress, hand blindly fumbling around inside your bedside drawer for your box of condoms.

he's kissing down your neck, his hands palming your breasts softly as you finally pull one out and set it beside you, wrapping your arms back around his neck.

he grinds slowly against you and you let out an embarrassedly loud moan at the friction against your clothed clit. he's already pretty hard and your mind flickers to the basement, how chilly it had been against your skin and how your swimsuit top probably didn't leave much to the imagination as you'd stood right in front of him. it makes you giddy at the thought of ben's eyes on you, his mind drifting to what you'd look like underneath him.

which is where you are right now, as he rolls the condom onto himself and pumps slowly. you kick your shorts and underwear off, aching and dripping with need as he slides between your legs, bracing himself with one arm above you.

"ready?" he asks softly and you let out a strangled whimper as you feel him line up at your entrance, teasing your folds a bit and making your hips buck. "yes." you say, staring deep into his eyes.

ben grasps your hand then, steading both you and him as he eases into you, sinking slowly and letting out a shuddering breath. you let out a small whine at the feeling of ben stretching you out, having been too antsy and not having enough time or patience for foreplay. once he's fully inside you, he kisses your cheek and gives you a few moments to adjust as you breathe into his neck.

and then he starts to move, his hips rolling slowly as he fills you up and hits a perfect spot inside you, your toes curling almost immediately. "oh god, ben." you moan out and that makes his hips move fluidly as he thrusts into you, kissing your neck softly as you whimper in pleasure.

the hand that isn't steadying himself above you holding your hand dances around you; exploring your curves, fingers lightly tracing over the stretch marks on your hips and then his palm sliding to caress your sides, his touch making your skin feel on fire.

after a few more minutes, he picks up the pace, hips angled slightly deeper and making your toes curl. he starts to moan every few thrusts, right into the shell of your ear, and it pushes you closer and closer to that feeling growing in your abdomen.

"shit, y/n, i'm already close." he mutters, eyes closed in bliss as he leans his head back slightly, the sight heavenly to your eyes. and you don't even blame him because he's probably just as pent-up as you are and you know this has to be quick or else richie will come up, wondering why ben was taking so long to ask if you're okay.

so you lean up a bit as he thrusts into you and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking lightly enough that it won't mark. "so am i." you say breathlessly as you move your hips, chasing the high that's building deep inside you.

you press your hands to his chest, stopping his motions momentarily. "let me ride you." you say breathlessly and his eyes widen with something akin to hunger as he pulls out of you, rolling onto his back with a shocked look. you smirk as you climb back onto him, straddling him as you pump him a few times. he bites his lip as you sink yourself onto him, moaning and covering your mouth so as not to carry the sound all the way to the basement.

as you start to bounce, you smile, realizing that you're not at all insecure in front of ben - his hands are all over your body, running over and gripping the plush skin as you sink onto him, taking him perfectly. he's groaning and moving his hips with yours as you mouth wet kisses over his chest and neck.

ben lets out a moan that pushes you near the edge as you pick up the pace, his cock hitting a new spot inside you that has you whimpering. as his hands fall to move your hips with his, squeezing your soft thighs tightly, you hit your high.

you tremble as the feeling of him inside you makes you clench hard, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss as you moan out, "ben!"

your hips stop moving as you ride out your high, only making small movements as you clench around him in complete pleasure. he groans below you, eyes still shut as he juts his hips upwards, taking over to chase his own orgasm.

and his hips start to stutter a few thrusts after as you slump on his chest, one hand on your tits and the other on your hips to move you with his thrusts. he cums a few moments later with a moan that is muffled by your hair, his hands sliding down to your ass, your lips on his collarbone.

after a few moments, you roll off of him and sigh, shocked and unsure as to if that really just happened. you're embarrassed at how quickly he made you cum - you want to blame it all on the fact that it has been quite some time since you'd had sex, but it really was the thrill of hooking up with him, especially because your brother was just downstairs.

ben's cheeks are red as he sits up quickly, pulling on his boxers and then his pants, only looking at you after he tugs the hem of his shirt down. "um, i would totally stay, but-"

you shake your head with a grin, "no, i get it. this was... just a spur of the moment thing."

he beams at you, seemingly relieved that he wasn't hurting your feelings - that was amazing and you're both glowing in your post-orgasm high, but you both know that this was a one-time thing. he pecks your cheek sweetly and as he turns to leave, you mutter, "wait!"

he lifts a brow as he turns to you and you run your fingers through his hair a few times to make it look the way it did before he came up here. "thanks." he says with a grin before he disappears, closing the door behind him and making you get dressed with red cheeks in silence.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @brxken-heartsclub

#ben hanscom x reader #ben hanscom smut #losers x reader #richie tozier x reader #tozier series #beverly marsh x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader

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