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s-brant · 3 years

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Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx s2 #uh oh trouble in paradise #anyway that smut #kinda wanna get railed by JJ in the back of the van #don’t we all?

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sugarsugarmoon · 4 years

Text

Dearly Beloved

Summary: Your friend from high school, Taehyung, helps you out when you need a wedding date.

Genre: SMUT and a little bit of fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, recreational alcohol use, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz use protection irl), spanking, some biting, dom!Taehyung, brat!reader

a/n: sorry Triv. sorry mom. If digital headstones are a thing by the time I die, please put this gif on mine. I listened to “Earned It” by The Weeknd the whole time I wrote all the nasty stuff.

Word Count: 6473

Your best friend is sweet and kind. She is the most generous person that you’ve ever met, and she can make you laugh harder than anyone on this planet. She has cradled you in her arms as you cried over boys, and, when your dad nearly died of cancer, she was there with you in the hospital every day, coffee in hand, ready to listen or just sit with you.

You take a deep breath through your nose and remind yourself of all of this. You love her more than pretty much anyone on this planet, but in this moment you have never wanted to slap her so much in the whole time you’ve known her.

She has been planning and preparing for her wedding for over a year, and the date is only two weeks away. The extravagance of it isn’t really your style, but she’s one of those people that has been dreaming of her wedding since she was a little girl. She has a vision.

At this present moment, you are surrounded by small cuts of lumber, empty vases, fake greenery, and tea lights. Your job today is to assemble the centerpieces. You sit in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded on all sides by your craft supplies. She is standing just outside your ring of accoutrements, crying and yelling. You aren’t totally sure what she’s yelling about. Seating arrangements? Maybe someone canceled? Honestly, at this point it’s unintelligible, so you decide it’s best to just let her carry on.

“And you!” you hear, clear as day.

You look up from your project and see her finger pointing toward wear you sit on the carpet. You look behind you, half expecting someone else to be there; you’ve done nothing but help. You turn back to her and barely raise a finger to point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in bewilderment. You mouth, “me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would it be? God.” You know she’s just stressed, so you take a deep breath and clench your fists around the fake greenery in your hands. “When we first started planning, you said you were gonna have a date, and I’m sorry things didn’t work with Yoongi, I really am, but now the seating arrangement is fucked and the whole entrance of the wedding party is fucked. It’s fucked, y/n. Could you just ask Yoongi to go with you?”

“Just ask Yoongi?” you spit back, “You want me to ask the man who broke my heart? Tore it into a million little pieces, who is, mind you, already going to be at the wedding because he’s friends with your future husband, to be my date? So...what? So I can get my hopes up again when he’s nice to me, because of course he will be, and get my heart smashed again? Oh but your seating arrangement will be good, so I should just suck it up. Right. Sure.”

You’re standing now, having spilled tea lights all over the floor with the sudden movement. You are breathing heavily, fists clenched at your side, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Things didn’t work out when you had told your workaholic boyfriend, Yoongi, that you wanted to get more serious, maybe move in together and consider marriage. You don’t think he meant to laugh at you, but he did laugh when you brought it up. He said that it was clear the two of you wanted different things, and he ended it with you. You clearly aren’t over him yet, and she knew that.

Your friends face softens for a moment. You can see the reality of what she said smoothing her features.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so stressed…” she trails off.

“Look, you want me to get a date? I’ll get a fuckin’ date. But I will not be caught dead on Min Yoongi’s arm.” You turn on your heel and let yourself out of her house, slamming the door behind you.

When all the rage fades, you realize what you’ve said that you’re going to do. You also realize that you left all centerpieces unassembled in the middle of the floor. You call your best friends mom and ask her to go over and finish them.

“I am already on my way over there, sweetie. But did I hear right that you are going to get a date for the wedding? Where?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

You know she isn’t trying to be hurtful but c’mon, I know guys! You think to yourself. I know so many guys. I know...Yoongi for one, and Hobi. Granted Hobi is marrying my best friend in two weeks. I know….oh! Jungkook! Jungkook will totally go with me!

“I know guys!” you respond to her with excitement in your voice. “I actually have to call the guy that I’m asking right now though, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again for doing the centerpieces.”

As you hang up, you quickly scroll through the names on your phone until you land on Jeon Jungkook. You tap out the message on your screen quickly and send it away.

You: Hey JK! I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to a wedding in two weeks. It’s out of town, so hotel. All expenses paid. Huh?

You put your phone down feeling optimistic. Jungkook loves to dance, and he’s a fun guy. Not only does he seem like a living human male who will go with you, you actually don’t hate the idea of going together with him. The excitement doesn’t last long.

Jeon Jungkook: y/n! Hey! I wish I could, but I’ll be back home in Busan. I’m so sorry!

You: No prob, buddy. I’ll go with Yoongi 😬

Jeon Jungkook: No! I won’t let you do that! He broke your heart. Let me give you hyung’s number. You remember Tae? From high school? He’s cool, and he’s free (he just asked me to make plans that weekend). Hit him up.

He sends you the contact. Kim Taehyung. You stare at the number for a long time before you type up a text, and you stare at the text for even longer before you send it.

You: Hi Taehyung, this is y/n. JK gave me your number, and he said you might be free in two weeks to be my date to a wedding. Nothing weird or anything! I just can’t go alone, and if I don’t bring a date, my friend is going to make me go with my ex. It’s a long story. Anyway, it is out of town, but your hotel and all your food and stuff would be paid for. Just let me know.

You exhale a deep breath after you hit send. You hope it doesn’t sound too weird or desperate or anything even though you are definitely both weird and desperate.

Kim Taehyung: sure! I’m always down for an adventure.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which is short-lived when you realize you don’t know anything about Taehyung anymore. You ran in the same circle in high school, connected by your mutual closeness to Jungkook. You text him back asking him to meet you for coffee, so you can go over the plan. The two of you decide to meet that afternoon, and the anxiety in your chest begins to loosen just a tiny bit.

….

When you get to the coffee shop, you find a spot by the window in the big squashy chairs. You order yourself a latte and play on your phone, waiting for Taehyung. You hear someone softly clear their throat, and your eyes scan the figure in front you. You don’t mean to give him the up-and-down, you really don’t. But the man standing in front of you is not the same Taehyung you remember. You remember a scrawny boy with too much eyeliner (yikes) trying to act like a man while still dealing with all his teenage emotions.

Before you stands, perhaps, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He is tall, taller than he was when you last saw him, and he is fuller too. He is no longer gangly and awkward. He has broad shoulders, firm pecs, and toned arms that you can see straining against the fabric of his tight black shirt. His black hair is long and messy, and tendrils hang down into his eyes. He has a smile on his face when your eyes finally meet his.

“Hi, y/n! It’s been so long!” he exclaims as he reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

You are shocked by the sudden touch and hesitate to put your arms around him. Even while he holds you for a moment with your arms at your sides, you feel comforted and safe. He smells like lavender and chamomile mixed with something else - maybe just his own skin.

When he lets you go, he looks a little embarrassed and backs up into his chair across from yours.

The two of you catch up about what you’ve been up to since high school: college, careers, failed relationships. You tell him all about what happened with Yoongi, but you don’t mention that you’re not over it yet. He tells you that his ex-girlfriend cheated in a one night stand with a girl at a club, and he had been pretty broken up about it.

You set your plans for leaving to get to the wedding early together. You have to be there on Thursday night because the bachelorette party was Friday and the wedding was on Sunday. He agrees, and you say goodbye to one another, this time without the hug.

****

Thursday afternoon you are packing your bags making sure that you have everything when your phone rings. It’s your best friend, so you take a deep breath before you answer it, trying to stay as calm as possible since she is a total mess. “Good morning, my beautiful best friend and soon-to-be bride,” you say in a syrupy tone that she knows is facetious.

“I have bad news,” she huffs and without pausing she continues, “we booked the hotel when you and Yoongi were still together. So we only booked one room for you and Yoongi. So now Yoongi doesn’t have a room, and your date...Tae or whatever...doesn’t have a room either. And I know that I’m being insensitive right now, but you and Yoongi breaking up is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

She’s definitely crying and spiraling. “I mean...it wasn’t great for me either,” you attempt to joke, but she just sobs harder.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Yoongi will just stay with Hobi until Sunday, then on Sunday, you and Hobi are going to stay together anyway, yeah? So that problem is solved. As for Tae...I’ll talk to him, okay? No big deal,” you console her, unsure what you’re going to say to Tae.

She lets out a long sigh, but her crying seems to be evening out. “You’re right. Okay.” You finish the phone call and send a text to Tae.

You: So...funny story...youandihavetoshareahotelroomnowsorryokaybye

You toss your phone aside and finish packing your bags. As you are loading up the car, Tae pulls up. He looks just as good as he did the other day, wearing a loose t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’s carrying a single leather duffle bag, and he has a huge smile on his face. He almost looks like he’s laughing.

The drive is only three hours, but it is long enough to be boring. You’re glad that you have company, and you and Tae crank up the radio singing along and laughing. You play car games together, and it is an overall good time.

When you get to the hotel, you are a little unsure of what to do or how to handle sharing a room with Tae. You slide the key in the door to the hotel room and exhale in relief when you see there are two beds in the room. You each take up your side and start to settle in.

When it’s time for you to get changed for bed, you awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom to change. Even though you normally just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, you put on a whole pajama get up because you aren’t sure how modest you should be with Tae.

When you come out, he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and gives you that warm, gentle smile again. How does he look so good just sitting on his bed playing on his phone?

“Hey, uh, so I usually just sleep in my underwear...but I can keep a shirt on if you want,” he says casually to you.

“Oh, uh, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable on my behalf, seeing how you’re doing me a favor,” you ramble out.

You wish you said no. As soon as it happens, you really wish you’d told him to keep on a shirt and a parka and snow pants and maybe also a ski mask. To say he is hot is the understatement of the century. His toned honey toned skin is smooth across his chest, taut over his muscles. His boxer briefs sit low on his hips, and your eyes follow the curve of his muscles from his stomach down past his waistline.

You watch the muscles on his back flex as he climbs into bed. You lay your head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is happening? you think to yourself. You try to blink the images of his nearly naked body out of your head, but they are there even as you eventually fall asleep.

*********

All day Friday you help set up for the wedding. Tae comes by and helps for a while, and, when it’s time for the bachelorette party, he says he’s going to go find something to do in town. The girls all go out, drink, and celebrate your best friend.

After the bachelorette party, you are feeling light and drunk and, for the first time in a while, you feel your shoulders relax. You say goodbye to the other girls in the lobby of the hotel and head to your room.

When you get there, there’s only one lamp on, and the room is empty besides your bags. You are painfully aware of the silky material of your dress against your skin, especially without a bra on. You feel so hyper-sensitive with the alcohol coursing through your veins. You skate your fingertips up your arms and across your collarbone. You feel yourself soaking your panties, and your nipples are hard against the silky material.

Your head isn’t totally clear, and you slide the straps of your dress off and let it pool on the floor around your feet. You stand in the middle of the floor in nothing but your panties and your heels for a moment, barely touching your skin on your neck and down your chest and belly.

You lie back on the bed, fuzzy head telling you to take care of it. You lick your fingers and take one of your nipples between your index finger and thumb. You feel your hips buck a little bit, feet, still in your heels, planting on the bed. With the way your feet are planted, your legs are open wide, and, if you weren’t wearing underwear, your pussy would be on full display. You bring your hand down to your panties. You run your fingers along the waistband before passing your hand over your covered folds, barely applying any pressure. You have decided to take it slow. You haven’t been with anyone since Yoongi, and you have been too busy to even consider masturbating. Now, you have the time, and you are soaking through your panties.

You close your eyes, and you see the way that Tae’s shirt fits across his chest, the way the rolled up sleeves accentuated his biceps, the way that his sweatpants yesterday left nothing to the imagination. You see the way his bare chest is broad and smooth, the way his underwear sit on his hips, bulge prevalent. You imagine the way he smelled when he’d pressed you into his chest. You want to drown in his smell.

You slide your hand into your underwear, drawing languid circles on your clit, sliding your finger through your arousal and back up to your clit. You feel like you are not in control of what your body is doing and small moans start to slip out of your mouth. You feel “Tae” come off your lips over and over.

“What?” you hear from near the door, but you think it might be coming from outside of the room and can’t process its proximity because the things you are doing are overwhelming you.

A whimper that turns into a yelp followed by “oh my god” comes from within the room, and your eyes snap open. Tae is standing at the end of the bed, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.

You scream and try to get up from the bed quickly, but you are drunk and wearing heels, and you lose your balance. Instead of getting away from him, you stumble toward him. He throws his arms out to catch you, steadying you as your mostly naked body presses against him. And you are mortified, but the scent of him makes your pussy clench. In that instance, you’re a little angry that you didn’t get to finish.

“Are you okay? How drunk are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just...we’re both in here. I didn’t know. That’s my bed, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there. Are you okay?” he rambles, trying not to look at you.

You pull away from him quickly covering your chest as you run over to the other side of the room to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. You throw the shirt over your head, and, as you try to put on the sweatpants, you realize you’re still wearing the goddamn heels. You throw them off as quickly as you can and pull the sweatpants on. When you look up from your panicked clothing debacle, Taehyung is looking anywhere but at you.

“Tae...I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m-I’m drunk, and I’m horny. I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

“Wait no…” Tae starts, but you are gone before he can even finish. You go to your best friend’s room, and she welcomes you in. When you tell her what happened, she laughs hard, pretty drunk herself. You agree to not talk about it any further.

*********

Besides avoiding Taehyung, the next day and half go by smoothly. You are busy setting up for the wedding. The hairstylist and makeup artist take care of you before the wedding, and your friend’s mom brings your dress and shoes to you. You haven’t had to go back to your room for anything, but you are dreading sitting next to Tae at the reception. The dread is briefly overshadowed by the love and pride that you have for your best friend and Hobi during the ceremony.

The ceremony goes off seamlessly, and you are so happy for your friends that you forget for a little while to be embarrassed. When it’s time for the reception, you realize that you have to enter with Tae for the processional. He meets you by the doors, looking pretty annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you, and he just offers you his elbow when it’s time for you to enter the banquet hall. You walk in holding his arm, faking a smile, and take your seats at the table, followed by the remaining bridesmaids with their dates.

Throughout dinner, Tae continues to ignore you. You think to yourself if anyone should be avoiding anyone, it’s me avoiding him, but you don’t say anything to him. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and you sit alone, pushing your food around your plate.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear from an all too familiar voice. You force yourself to look up into his eyes, and Yoongi is staring back down at your with a smirk on his face. You don’t have the words to respond, so you just stare at him for a moment.

A deep voice from behind you says, “yeah, actually it is,” and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me. His hand feels like it’s burning your skin, and you want to lean into it.

“Oh sorry, man. It didn’t seem like you guys were together,” Yoongi says, confused but still confident.

“Yeah, well, we are. Why don’t we go dance, y/n?” Tae hisses through his teeth.

“I’m kind of talking to Yoongi right now,” you say to him.

“Yeah, that’s all good, but I really like this song. So come dance with me,” he insists, pulling your wrist a little.

“Yeah...okay fine,” you mumble as you take your napkin out of your lap. Yoongi is looking at you dumbfounded, and you shrug and follow Tae to the dance floor. He pulls you in and presses his body fully against yours. Is this some kind of weird possessive shit?

“So you’re going to ignore me all night and then get pressed when Yoongi tries to talk to me?” you snap, annoyed.

“First of all, you left me alone in that hotel room for two days, so who’s really ignoring whom? Why can’t you, for once, just be a good girl and do what I say?”

You can’t deny that the expression “good girl” coming from his mouth does something to you, but you are already heated. “Oh, yes sir. I’ll be the goodest girl because you just dragged me over here and are being an ass, so I better be good for you. Fuck off,” you spit at him, rolling your eyes.

“Well, you told me how Yoongi broke your heart. And you weren’t gonna tell him to get lost, so I did you a favor. You should be thanking me,” he spits out.

“What’s your deal, Tae? It’s not like we’re actually dating or anything.”

You swear he growls in his chest a little bit, then he spins you before pulling you back into his body. “Well, maybe I want to be,” he mutters.

Before you have a chance to talk, the MC comes on and asks everyone to clear the floor for all the first dances, father dances, mother dances, second-cousin dances. It goes on for so long that you decide to return to the table, and Taehyung follows you. You sit down, fully prepared to demand an explanation from him when the photographer comes up to your table.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” she asks with a bright smile.

You can’t bring yourself to say no to her cheeriness, so you agree, doing your best to smile for the camera.

“You know what would be really cute?” the photographer starts, and you feel the dread building in your chest, “if you sat in his lap.”

Oh my gods, ugh. You are incredibly annoyed, but you know that this innocent woman doesn’t understand the very weird situation going on. So you, once again, reluctantly agree. You climb into Taehyung’s lap, and the energy immediately feels different. He clears his throat behind you and slides his arms around your waist. While the photographer tries to get a better angle (why is she taking so long!?), Taehyung starts to slide his hand down your thigh.

“I heard you,” he whispers to you, smile still stretched across his face. “I heard you say my name. You can’t act like you don’t want me. I heard you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. You said my name. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I had such a big crush on you in high school, but you were oblivious. Now, you see me. Now, you want me. I heard you.”

As the photographer walks away, you don’t try to get up. You just shift a little in his lap. With the movement you can feel, very clearly, as if there was hardly any fabric between you at all, the outline of his cock, half-hard against your ass.

“Are...are you not wearing underwear, Tae?” you ask, feeling flustered, face hot.

“I tell you I heard you say my name while you were touching yourself on my bed. And you ask if I’m wearing underwear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me,” he professes with a smirk.

You look around frantically to make sure no one heard him, but your head snaps back to look at him when you feel his fingers teasing the hem of your dress against your thigh. You can feel the movement causing a rush between your thighs, and you can’t focus on anything except the way his hand feels on your skin.

“Tae…” you whisper, trailing off.

“Say it, y/n. Say you want me.”

“We can’t do this here, Tae. There are so many people here,” you say looking around at all of your friends, who you would be mortified if they found Tae with his hand in your dress.

“If you say that you want me right now, I’ll take you upstairs, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” he whispers, letting his hot breath run over your ear.

Shit. Shit. Am I doing this? Fuck it.

“Tae, I want you...right now,” you practically moan.

With that, he’s up out of his seat, adjusting his pants. He ushers you out of the hall with his hand on the small of your back. You clamber into the elevator, and, when the door shuts, he is all over you. His mouth is on your ear and your neck, your collarbone and the curve of your shoulder, you chest and the upper swell of your breast. He’s kissing every exposed inch like he’s been poisoned and the only antidote is in your skin.

The elevator door opens on your floor, and the two of your practically run to your room. He slides the key card in and flings the door open. He kicks it closed behind you, and he takes off his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to look at you, lacing his fingers in the hair on the back of your head down to the nape of your neck. He’s big eyes are peering into yours, searching your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a deep rasp.

“Tae, you’ve already kissed my whole chest. Yes,” you say back with a bite to your tone. You can’t help but want to contradict him and push his buttons.

He smashes his lips into yours, a deep, hungry kiss. All of his annoyance and frustration seems to come out with his kiss too. He nips your bottom lip and pulls it a bit before letting it going. He goes right back to you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I don’t know,” you tease. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“How is ‘babygirl?’ Is that okay with you?” he asks looking into your eyes again.

“Babygirl is fine,” you reply, “but I’m not your good girl.”

He growls at you from his chest, scrunching his nose. You feel the tension in your stomach building and you know that your panties are useless at this point they are so soaked. He leans into you, reaching around your back, unzipping your dress. You shimmy it off your body, letting it pool on the floor around your feet, just like you had down two days before.

You runs his fingertips across your skin from your collarbones over your breasts, gently catching your nipples, down your stomach, across the waistband of your underwear. He bends his knees, setting one on the floor, and he keeps tracing his fingers down your thighs, over your knees, and around your ankles. He presses his mouth to your hip and your thigh while he caresses the inside of your legs up to your thigh and back down to your ankle. Then he pulls the strap off both of your ankles from your shoes and pulls them off your feet. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch from Tae’s fingers, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing with every move he makes.

While still on his knee, Tae looks up at you through his lashes. He asks in a commanding tone, “Babygirl, if you need me to stop you just say red, okay?” And you nod.

“Now, are you going to be good for me while I lick your pussy?”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest. “I don’t want to be good,” you sass, voice hoarse already.

His teeth bite down on the skin of the inside of your thigh. “Are you talking back to me, babygirl?”

You are too stunned to come up with anything clever, so you just nod.

He bites down again on your other thigh. “Use your words,” he commands.

You are so wet and so overwhelmed. He is too much for you already. “Yes, I was talking back to you,” you pant out.

He stands up from between your thighs, and you feel remiss that you let your brattiness get in the way of having him licking you. He whispers, “you’re being a bad girl.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, unable to stop yourself. His hand comes up to your chin and holds your head so you have to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” he demands. “You better start behaving, you little monster.”

For some reason, him calling you a little monster does something to you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on. “I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”

You lean to kiss him, and he catches your lips in another bruising kiss.

“Lie down on the bed and take your underwear off,” he says as he stands back from you, palming himself through his pants, seeking some relief.

Once you’re in position, he pushes your legs up, so your knees are bent. You are in the same position that you were just two days ago when he walked in on you. He whispers so pretty, then kisses gently on your clit and down your folds. He barely slides his tongue into your pussy, then drags it all the way up you, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

“So wet for me, babygirl.”

He takes his tongue and draws slow, steady circles on your clit while he brings his hand to your entrance and slides too fingers in. He immediately pushes them all the way in without letting you adjust, then he curls them upward. His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

You groan beneath him. He feels like he knows exactly what your body wants and needs. He is intuitive to your body, and your head is swimming. Your skin is burning, and your hips start to buck, even as he uses one hand to try to still you.

“Tae, I’m going to cum,” you gasp.

“No, you aren’t,” he says against your clit, “you’ll cum when I tell you to cum. And do you know why?”

You shake your head, back arching up off the mattress.

“This pussy is mine. Your orgasms belong to me, understood?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please, Tae…”

“Say it,” he commands for the second time tonight.

You moan as he continues his unforgiving ministrations with his fingers and his tongue. “Fine. This pussy is yours. My orgasms belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispers and pulls his fingers out of you and pulls his mouth away.

“No, no,” you whine at the lost of contact

“You better start being good, babygirl. You better start showing me that you deserve to cum.”

You really don’t mean to say it, but your bratty side comes out again. You look him in the eye and defiantly say, “Make me,” crossing your arms over your chest.

He leans over your body and picks you up, flipping you over easily. He commands you to get on your hands and knees.

“I’m going to punish you, babygirl. Do you remember the word to say if it’s too much?”

“I remember, yes.” You crawl onto your hands and knees and push your ass toward him, taunting him. You have your legs spread, and with the way you have put your head down on the mattress, your pussy is on full display for him. He can see how slick you are for him and because of him. You can feel how swollen your clit is, and all you want is for him to touch you again. Instead, he brings his hand down with a smack on your ass. You hiss from the sting, but you feel yourself growing wetter somehow. You moan and push your ass further back toward him. He lands four more spanks on the same cheek, and it stings as he rubs his hand over the spot. He presses his lips to the tender spot, and then he presses his lips against your wet pussy before pulling away.

You try to bite back the whine that is trying to escape your chest. You turn to look at Tae over your shoulder, and you should have just kept looking forward. His pupils are huge, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it. His lips are swollen, and his cheeks are pink. You let out a moan at the sight of him. Desperate to cum.

“Please, Tae. Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling like you might cry.

“Turn around, baby girl,” he says a little more gently than his last commands.

You turn around, and he steps up right in front of you as you sit on the end of the bed. He puts his fingers on your chin again and angles your head up to him. He presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, and then he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. You can see the outline of his cock through his tight black pants. You have never wanted a cock more in your life than you want his right now.

You unbutton his pants, and the flesh of his dick is right inside the zipper. So he wasn’t wearing underwear. You push his pants down, and he steps the rest of the way out of them. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it. You look up into his eyes to wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Lie down, babygirl,” he says, and you immediately obey.

His eyes flash with realization for a moment. “I don’t have a condom,” he says in panic, his breathing quickening.

“It’s fine. Are you clean? I’m fine. Birth control. Just fuck me raw,” you can’t think and words are tumbling past your lips.

“I am clean. You’re on birth control? You’re clean?” he asks, slightly more coherent than you are.

“Yes to both. Fuck me raw, Tae, please,” you beg. You feel desperate and crazy.

He pulls your hips to the end of the bed, still standing in front of you. He drags his cock through your arousal, getting his dick slick before he presses against your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, and you feel every millimeter of him exploring every millimeter of you. You let out a loud guttural moan as he continues to push all the way in. He brings his thumb to your clit and pushes messy circles there, and you clench around his dick.

“Fuck, babygirl, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna last long anyway,” he says as he draws himself slowly back out of you and pushes back in slowly.

“Tae…” you pant.

“I know, babygirl. You have to hold on though. Remember your orgasm is mine.”

He starts to thrust in and out of you more urgently. He’s panting, hair falling into his eyes. His breath is ragged as he continues to rub unforgiving circles on your clit. He pushes his hair back with his one free hand, and his tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth. You feel yourself careening toward the edge, and you don’t want to disappoint Tae but also can’t stop it. You pant out his name again.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he whispers as he bites your ear lobe, thrusts becoming erratic. You tumble over the edge, warmth filling your stomach as your pussy clenches around him, and your mind goes black as your eyes pinch shut and all of your muscles contract. You let out a low, loud moan, and Tae is crashing like a wave too. He cums hard and moans a long moan, filling you with cum and continuing to fuck it up into you. His hips only stop when you have regained your senses enough to open your eyes.

After he pulls out of you, he disappears for a second. He returns with a warm washcloth. He sets to work cleaning you and then himself. He takes the towel back to the bathroom, and then climbs into bed next to you. “What can I do to take care of you, babygirl?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I want to cuddle you, and maybe watch The Grinch,” you respond in a sleepy voice.

He gets you both under the covers, then pulls your body close to his. “I’ll try to find it, but we might have to watch something else,” he explains as he grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

“Hey Tae?” you say after you settle on watching HGTV.

He hums in response and pulls his eyes from the screen to look at you. “Can we like...go on a date soon?” you ask, suddenly nervous even though you’re both naked, cuddled in a post sex cocoon.

“I want nothing more than that...and we probably should since your pussy is already mine anyway,” he smiles a huge smile and presses kisses to your temple, cheek, and jawline. You snuggle back in and eventually fall asleep wrapped in one another.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x y/n #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung: actual demon

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baskervilleshund · 5 years

Text

4,5 years of Gotham in my life♥

Wow my emotions these last days. I’m not much of a text poster on this site but when Gotham ended I really felt I wanted to write this!

Gotham has been a huge part of my life for so long now. 4 years and 7 months since the first episode aired, that’s some time gosh. And so much has happened during this journey! I just wanna mention some memorable things during these years. Like remember the pre-s02x09 excitement?? And other stuffs, ah here we go!

The first trailer made me SO EXCITE, I had wanted more batman villains content for years since I have always found the batman villains squad so interesting and good and unique characters, there is so much to explore here! And so the Gotham trailer came and I just OH MY GOD this is exactly what I want!! And so it started and it was amazing. My first love was Ed, it took him his first scene in ep1 to make me go totally THIS IS MY FAV! More eps went on and I required more Ed content. But then Oswald slowly grew on me kinda out of nowhere like I wasn’t expecting it. And when amazing ep7 aired it just hit down on me from the sky, like it does when I know I got a new obsession/fandom. Oswald’s amazing scenes in ep7 and I went ”Okay this is it, I’M DEEP INTO THIS NOW AND I LOVE IT!”. In exactly THIS↓ scene/moment I basically said those words out loud and realized this is my life now, ugh also one of my fav looks I miss the bangs:

Shortly after ep7 I started shipping Nygmobblepot, since we knew who these characters were and who they will end up being it made SO much sense in this show, they were like the two familiar main villains in kinda the same age and I also loved them both so I mean it was obvious for me. Man in the beginning we were so very few in the shipping Nygmob pond, in the OCEAN of Gobblepot. It was a bit of a struggle sometimes, ppl wrote hate on my Nygmob posts n stuff shrug. And I just didn’t get how not more ppl could see it? It would make more sense if this were new characters like they hadn’t even met but since we knew this is Riddler and Penguin it just was fate for them to cross paths soon enough! We needed Nygmob content! I started making tons of my own AU:s since if the show wouldn’t give us content I would do it.

BUT we had Robin & Cory with us! Reminder that Cory invented the shipname after 5 minutes and Robin & Cory’s amazing twitter activity during s1 especially I will always remember as a fav. Remember when they we’re so into roleplaying Nygmob and spoke how Ed & Os loved each other and all sorts of things. All about going to The Foxglove together and stuff. Ugh it was amazing, I miss their interactions.

In this very smol pond is when one day my shining star @conscience-killer (aka okimi79) approached me, with this ♥ ”Sometimes I feel we’re the only Nygmobblepot shippers in the world…well apart from Robin and Cory. We should have a secret handshake or something.”

And man did we get a secret handshake! Gosh MY DEAR OKIMI! That I up til this day since then has spoken with like everyday for 4,5 years, you are amazing ♥ And in that time of so few shippers it felt even more special, to have someone else out there as obsessed as me. I’m so grateful we found each other at exactly that time and we’ve been through so much on this journey ♥.

When Nygmob in spring finally had their first scene it was so amazing and I have no idea how many times I have watched that scene to this day, and also with that the ship grew a bit yas!!

Let’s jump forward a bit. NYC Comic Con 2015 in fall, one of my fav Robin & Cory cons/interview times! Because the legendary ep 2x9 was soon upon us and OMG remember how excite they were in those interviews!?! And THEN, that fkn night THE episode aired. I couldn’t believe it was real, it was EVERYTHING we had dreamed of!!! SO MUCH NYGMOB CONTENT and so in character and gosh. Man their season 2 relationship is just so beautiful and I love it til this day and 2x9 is forever my favorite episode because it meant EVERYTHING for us shippers and more people also started seeing the connection between Nygmob and so more ppl started to make content and join in!

A time after another shining star came into my life, @constant-sinner (aka (riddlelvr) ♥ This amazing person and artist! And together with her and okimi I am part of the best trash family of three and I can’t believe I’ve been a mom (yet i’m the youngest but i’m fashion fur coat mom okay) to these trash sinners for like 4 years. ♥

Okay but remember all INSANE SMAYLOR CONTENT BEFORE SEASON 3!!? Man that was also one of the best times I had during these years. God they were so excite for their relationship in s3 and WEREN’T WE ALL! And omg Comic Con. I had my fkn header for 3 years soon lol, man that moment I remember seeing the signing booth stream all casual and Robin & Cory goes “Smaaylor!! Nygmobblepot!!! ;))” And I’m just wait WHUT omg. Their press tours with Sean is something I’ll miss even more than the episodes, always such a joy seeing those three together!

And when season 3 started it was just insane. To be honest how their relationship grew in s3 that’s how I expected it to grow after their meeting in s1, it made sense already back then. Ed admiring Oswald and sneaking to his club and Oswald would be a huge part of Ed’s journey to become the Riddler but ah well, I did my best with my AU:s back then!

And then s3 came and Gotham EXPLODED and I had no idea where all million ppl suddenly came from lol. It became huge. But since it still feels kinda close to this day (2,5 yrs though man), my most nostalgic feels will always be over s1-2 so I’m not gonna write so much about the season 3-5 times in this text. My closest to heart milestones is during the first years and now that I’ve seen all episodes I still think season 1 is the best overall, except the lack of Nygmob content ofc ;)

I’ve not just felt love for the show ofc, the show isn’t perfect. There has been serious flaws and bad writing and plot drops. Tbh s4 I just felt so NOPE about? 22 eps of waste…Like Ed’s plot for example like he barley had his own plot what happened? And we also have the q*eerbait Nygmob issue obviously. I have also felt the show has been a bit childish being -helloo- GOTHAM city we’re talking about? I think it would have been much better off with a MA-rating tbh to properly tell certain stories. After s4 though I’m glad in s5 Nygmob finally got some proper screen time being together and in character!! Like that’s how their relationship should have been from beginning of season 4, or season 1 if u ask me lol but ya know!

BUT I LOVE THIS SHOW, the amazing actors and characters and scenery and costumes!! Ed, Oswald, Robin & Cory will ofc always have the most special place in my heart ♥ The Nygmob journey in the show has meant so much to me to follow it from day one and I never knew how much this show would mean to me when I started back in the day.

This show. And not just the show itself but my journey and life around it!!? So much has happened. For one example I had made a bit of gifs before but Gotham really got me into gif making, and it’s been a joy sharing content and my Nygmob AU will always be among my most fun things I’ve done, it was like if they ain’t gonna give us enough content I WILL. It’s a fun way of gif making to manip scenes to create something new! And today I still enjoy making gifs, as you probably know heh. Thanks so much for all nice comments and reblogs through all these years ya’ll!! It warms my heart and I love to read reblog tags!

I have been at con and got to meet Robin, enjoyed so many interviews and promos, chatted with wonderful people. Every Friday night I have been up in my Europe timezone at 2am to live watch the show, the workdays after has been a bit of a struggle of being tired with going to bed like 5am lol but man it’s been so nice to follow it when it airs!

Watching together with my dearest @conscience-killer and @constant-sinner . Two of the best that happened to me during these years. These two people that I’ve spoken with like everyday for 4 years! Through Gotham finding two of my dearest friends in my life. Watching the show together and screaming, crying, laughing during this journey, about not just the show but EVERYTHING in life. They also are amazing writers and artists ♥ And also helped me endless times with gif caption when my non-native brain trying to write gif captions at 3am after the episode lol. All my love to you both ♥

THANKS TO ALL AMAZING PEOPLE that impacted me over these years. The cast and nice fandom people! My dearest @conscience-killer and @constant-sinner. And I also wanna mention dear @millicentcordelia and @selene-volturo that are amazing ppl that have been here with me since the very beginning of season 1. And they have always been so down to earth even during the stormiest periods of this show’s existence ♥ I’m so glad we’ve shared this LONG journey!

And also hugs to my dear mutual fandom friends that I’ve shared hours of conversations with over the years. Some of us maybe don’t speak as much nowadays and some of us have gone separate ways with new interests but I hope you know who you all are, regardless if we spoke yesterday or 2015. You have made my fandom time a joy!

I’m actually okay with the show ending now you know. Ofc it’s a bit sad but as I said I felt s4 was kinda stomping around in the same spot and even s5 had some fillers like they didn’t have more to do to push the story forward? The last ep was a nice easter egg wrap up for this LONG journey. And I mean shows live on with fan content, and who knows maybe it will return somehow? But it feels good they told us it would end so I was prepared for this and to say ”goodbye”. But it’s not goodbye because content will continue on this site and I’ll continue re-enjoy this show!

This is 4,5 years. In 2 pages, I could prob write 20 but ah, but i felt I got to to summary the most important things for me over these years ♥. This show and stuff that came with it will always be such a big part of my life, ALL LOVE AND HUGS!

#my text #gotham #nygmobblepot #HUGS AND LOVE!!#ugh gosh my feels #so much has happened and i'm so grateful for all positive things that I've been a part of <333

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desdinovas · 6 years

Text

award show || brad simpson

not my gif

pairing: Brad Simpson x Female Reader

word count: 2,031

notes: got this request a few weeks ago and it’s probs my fav thing anyone has requested so far, hope this is good enough

“Brad, this is literally the millionth suit you’ve tried on today,” you pointed out from your place on your shared bed.

You actually didn’t mind helping him with his outfit at all. Watching him try suit after suit, one looking better than the other on him. I mean, who wouldn’t want to see that? Ever since he found out his band would be attending the Brits, he got way too excited about it and wanted everything to be perfect that night. And that includes, of course, his outfit.

“I know, love, but none of them are good enough.” Brad argued back as he studied his reflection in the mirror standing in front of him.

“You look amazing in all of them.” You stood up from the bed and walked towards him, hugging him from behind and standing on your tiptoes so you could let your chin rest on his shoulder.

“I’m still not convinced,” he said as he scanned his wardrobe.

A few seconds passed before his eyes landed on a very unusual suit. He had actually forgotten he bought that one. It was an impulsive buy and he never got the chance to wear it —mainly because he tossed it to the back of his wardrobe as soon as he came back from the store, making him totally forget about its existence.

“How about this one?” Brad asked as he took it out from the closet and started analysing it.

“Isn’t it a little too bright?” You asked back with furrowed brows. Oh, did I forget to mention the suit was bright red?

“Yeah, but Con told me he’s wearing a red suit as well so maybe we could match.” Brad shrugged.

“I thought I was your date to the red carpet.” You teased, pretending to be hurt by his words.

Brad chuckled under his breath and turned his head to kiss your cheek. “You’re wearing a white dress, right?” He asked even though he already knew the answer since you went dress shopping with him and it was him who ended up choosing it.

You nodded your head a bit confused, not knowing where he was going. “Then I’ll pin a little white rose on my suit. That way we’ll be matching.” Brad explained as he winked an eye at you.

You gave him a smile and he got himself into the bathroom to try on the red suit. Although there was no need to bother on going to the bathroom to get changed —since you’ve seen each other naked like a million times— he wanted to surprise you with the final result, rather than watching him during the process of getting dressed. Why? Because he absolutely loves your reactions.

“So? What do you think?” Brad asked as he stepped out of the bathroom. What he didn’t know this time was that your jaw would literally drop once your eyes fell on him.

“Holy fucking shit.” Was all you could say.

Your eyes were wide as you studied every single detail, not once finding a flaw. How can someone be this hot without even trying? He was wearing a black shirt while the rest of the suit —including his tie— was red.

“Is it that bad?” Brad asked at the lack of feedback from you.

You blinked a few times before answering; “are you kidding me? You look unbelievably handsome.”

“Do you think so?” He questioned as he stood in front of the mirror, carefully studying his reflection with his nose wrinkled. “Isn’t the colour a bit extravagant?”

“I mean, I thought that too.” You began, not being able to stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his bum. But he doesn’t have to know that. “But that was before I saw it on you. Bloody hell, red is definitely your colour.”

“Are you sure?” Brad asked again, and that was enough to tell you that he was insecure about it.

“Absolutely,” you nodded your head. “Red is definitely my new favourite colour after seeing it on you.” You said in all honesty and he gave you a small smile. “Look, if you’re not wearing that to the awards then I’ll be very disappointed.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces almost touching. “Trust me, you look amazing.”

“Babe, do you think I should wear my-“ Brad stopped in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on you. “Oh, my good God.” He gasped.

You turned around as you finished applying your makeup and gave Brad a confused look once your eyes met his. “What? What is it?”

Brad shook his head repeatedly. “Nothing, it’s just that my girlfriend is the hottest thing in the world. That’s all.”

You could literally feel your cheeks going red as you shot him a small smile. “Stop.” How did he manage to make you feel like an actual school girl?

“No, I’m serious.” He said as he walked closer to you and placed a hand on your waist. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

You smiled again and pecked his lips. “You don’t have to win me over. We’re already dating, you know.” You joked before stroking the few curls growing on the back of his head.

“Just speaking the truth,” he said giving you a cheeky grin that always sends you flying —and today was no exception. He leaned over to catch your lips in his, smiling into the kiss.

“What were you about to ask me?” You panted as soon as you broke apart from the kiss.

“Oh, right.” Brad nodded his head, remembering why he went into the bedroom in the first place. “Should I wear my glasses to the awards? Because I figured I won’t be able to see shit from our seats.”

“Of course you should, baby.” He smiled at the pet name. “Why shouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he hesitated his next words. “Do you think they make me look dorky?” He asked with the most adorable concerned look. He was so insecure about everything lately, you just wanted to sit down with him and lecture him on how perfect he is.

You shot him a warm smile as you stroked his right cheek with your thumb. “No, Brad.” You reassured him. “If anything, they make you look even more cute than you already are.”

Brad frowned at your last sentence. “We’ve been through this, darling. I’m not cute, I’m a man.”

“Fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him and decided to tease him a little bit more. “You’re a cute man, happy now?”

“That is not what I meant.”

You jumped into the limo that was waiting for the two of you outside of your house and greeted the rest of the band, who were already there.

“You look great, (y/n).” James said as he shot you a smile.

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

“Hey, watch it.” Brad playfully said in a warning tone. “She’s my girl.” He glared at James. And although he was kidding, everyone knew there was a bit of truth in his words.

A few minutes went by before you felt Brad shifting on his seat beside you and making quiet noises. You turned your head to be met by him frantically touching his blazer.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just trying to pin the rose,” Brad answered with his brows furrowed. (p.s here’s a video to give y’all an idea bc me writing about it doesn’t do how cute he is any justice)

“Need some help?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on your face. “Seems like you could poke yourself any minute now.”

“Please,” he whined and you laughed at how adorable he was. You took the little white rose in your hands and pinned it to his suit soon enough. “Thank you, love.” He smiled before kissing the top of your head.

“We’re here.” Connor announced and the five of you hopped off the limo to be met by a huge wave of cameras flashing at you.

Brad’s arm was immediately around your waist and tightly holding you close to him in a protective way. You tried to ignore all the questions the paparazzi were asking you as you made your way towards the red carpet.

Brad turned to you and your eyes finally met his. He gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna go take some pictures with the boys. I won’t be long, okay?” He gently stroked your cheek with his hand.

You just nodded your head and watched him join the rest of the band on the red carpet while you stood where all the paparazzi and interviewers were standing. You watched the boys pose for an awful lot of different cameras and started wondering how it was possible for one human being to be so good looking without even trying. Brad was literally just standing there doing absolutely nothing but faintly smile, and yet it was the most beautiful thing your eyes have ever seen.

“C’mere, baby.” Brad rushed to where you were standing and you shook your head, trying to get rid of your thoughts.

You intertwined your fingers with his and he guided you to the red carpet. Your eyes wandered to look for the boys and soon you found them talking to an interviewer. Brad wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head down so he was whispering in your ear. “Just relax, okay? I’m here.”

You faintly nodded your head and took a deep breath just before the flash from all the cameras started blinding you.

You tried to smile at a numerous amount of cameras so you wouldn’t be looking at the same one all the time, but it was quite hard to figure which camera you were looking at with all those bright lights shining into your eyes. Brad leaned in to kiss your cheek and you subconsciously closed your eyes and smiled. The sound of various cameras shooting was heard and you made a mental note to yourself to look for that picture online later.

After a few more seconds of posing, Brad squeezed your waist gently and walked you over to where the boys were talking with the interviewers.

Just as you two stopped beside the boys, the middle aged woman who was interviewing them smiled before saying, “here they are! We were just talking about how cute you guys are.”

Brad smiled as a light shade of pink coloured his cheeks. “Thank you. Although, I must say, she takes all the credit.” He said while turning to give you a sweet smile as his hand gently stroked your waist.

You just smiled back at him, hoping the camera behind the woman wouldn’t be able to capture your flushed cheeks.

“You two have been dating for quite a while now, does it ever get hard when it comes to the distance?” She asked before placing her microphone in front of Brad for him to answer.

“Distance is definitely hard,” he began. “But we’re determined to make this work, so we try not to make it such a big of a deal, you know? Whenever I’m away for tour one of us is always trying to find some time to visit the other one.” He concluded with a sided smile.

You just kept smiling the entire time, not feeling the need to answer the questions. They were all aimed for Brad anyways.

“You must really love each other.”

“Yeah,” Brad nodded with a huge smile as he looked down at you. “I love her, she’s great.” You looked up to smile back at him.

After the boys were done with the interviews you all proceeded to the actual award show. Once you were sat in your designated seats, Brad placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a little squeeze.

“You were great, darling.”

“I just smiled the whole time.” You chuckled as your eyes met his.

“And that’s enough,” he said with a reassuring smile and you went to peck his lips. “Did I tell you how bloody stunning you look tonight?”

You shot him a wide smile. “Only about a thousand times.” You teased.

“Well, here goes again; you look absolutely stunning.” You just smiled as your eyes were still locked with his. “I love you, babe.”

I’m also leaving a few pictures of him on that goddamn red carpet cause holy mother of god, this boy is a snack lol who am I kidding he’s a motherfucking full course meal

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