꧁Iʂʅαɳԃ Iɳ Tԋҽ Sυɳ / Iɱαɠιɳҽʂ꧂

You're a Bitch

ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ

What started as a silly little crush, a cute one even, turned out to be a huge sexual frustration. It was too good to be true, somewhere deep down you knew it, you couldn't believe a) he would like you back, and b) he was single, your intuition never fails, you should've trusted yourself, but still, you wouldn't have been prepared for his friends to tell you the truth.

You hated him, even more so now that you had every right to; you hated letting your guard down, you hated his stupid fucking laugh, you hated that he knew facts about you no one else did, his marked muscles, you hated the moment you chose to have an intimate moment with him, his fluffy hair, you hated texting him nonstop for three weeks, his thick fingers and popped veins, you hated squealing into your pillow like a little girl out of happiness, his perfectly straight jaw, you hated feeling fluttery under his timid touch, his confidence, you hated that all the time you'd spent fixing your heart had been wasted on him, but more importantly, you hated that you still liked him.

JJ Maybank knew that he left little to the imagination whenever he was out, he knew that someone had undressed him with their eyes at least once, he enjoyed it, as egocentric and asshole-y as it was; and the thought of you being one more made your blood boil. It didn't matter if you gave him the cold shoulder since that day, unfortunately for you, his friends were super fucking nice, so much so that even they were on your side cursing his name, and now they were your friends too.

You grimaced and almost banged your head against the wall that time you first dreamed about him, you weren't sure what images were running through your mind, but all you could feel as you opened your eyes was disgust and horniness all in one, first one to you, the second one to him.

You snapped your pencil in the middle of the class that time you arrived late, and John B kindly offered you a seat next to him right in front of a pair of broad, strong shoulders, imagining either punching them or kissing them, either one was satisfying.

You even almost cried when you had to tell your other friends only a day after finally deciding to talk to them about a new guy.

You clenched your jaw whenever you focused too much on his body details, fighting the urge to fuck him and yell to his face.

You went as far as to pay someone to act as your 'something' just out of pure spite, not that you needed to prove him something, but you couldn't just stand there being the idiot that got carried away with her feelings.

And to think you- 

In conclusion, JJ Maybank could go fuck himself. and you.

"Hey, are you okay?" Pope tapped your shoulder.

You turned to him slowly coming back, "Y-yeah, I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"We're going back to the chateau, wanna come?"