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genericpuff · 1 year

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my thoughts on tears of the kingdom (on a non-zelda blog)

so here's the thing, I love Zelda.

I've been playing the series since I was a child, practically raised on it by my oldest brother whom I have a 10 year age gap with. One of my most cherished childhood memories was when he got me Wind Waker on the Gamecube as a birthday present, I would have been around 7 years old and he would have been 17. Zelda was and still is a huge part of our lives.

So skip to today, we both got Tears of the Kingdom on launch day. We're both busy adults now who live far away from each other so we've just been updating each other on our progress and sending memes.

But I've got a lot of thoughts about the game that I really want to get out, as someone who's been with this series for two decades. My brother started with games like A Link to the Past and that was practically my first exposure to the series as well as it's what I would watch him play, alongside Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask.

There will be mild SPOILERS ahead concerning the gameplay and story, so don't click the jump unless you've already played the game or don't mind getting spoiled!!! LONG POST AHEAD!

So I guess let's just get on with this, yeah? I'm not gonna separate it into "good" vs. "bad" because I find everything in this game has good shit that comes packaged with bad shit. It's a lot of pros with cons attached, so trying to separate it cleanly between "good" and "bad" isn't going to be a very productive approach.

I've seen TOTK described as "DLC" for Breath of the Wild (derogatory) while on the opposite end, Breath of the Wild has been described as the "tech demo" for Tears of the Kingdom (positive). Frankly, I can see where both sides are coming from. There are lots of elements in TOTK that feel like they could have been in BOTW, whereas other elements can confidently stand on their own separate from that of BOTW.

One such example is the new Sheikah Slate, aka the Purah Pad. While there are some features from BOTW that are surely missed (Cryonis, sigh) others have been replaced with far more beneficial features such as Ultrahand and Fuse (the bread and butter of this game) and Recall, which - controversial I'm sure - is far more functional and has way more opportunities to be useful than BOTW's Stasis ability. The Ultrahand ability alone is a massive upgrade, allowing you to go wild with the game's physics engine. The shrine puzzles are a lot stronger in this respect, having more to work with by combining the Ultrahand ability with thematic Zonai devices, often times taking you through a gauntlet of rooms with similar puzzle-solving, each more challenging than the last. There's nothing more satisfying - and doubly frustrating - than seeing the solution to a shrine you've already spent three days on and going "Wait, I could have done that???" It just goes to show that the inventive creativity necessary to solving these puzzles from BOTW has carried over twofold into TOTK.

However, I feel like these new features are less rewarding as the game goes on. While mechanics like Cryonis and remote bombs made exploring feel unique and accessible in BOTW, the lack of these features in TOTK have made exploring feel far more difficult than it should be. What used to be an easy - albeit slow - endeavor such as crossing a river by creating ice block bridges with Cryonis has now turned into an exercise in futility and physics knowledge. You can't just cross a river, you have to build a boat out of whatever resources you can find or use to cross said river. And while this is a very inventive feature that has really stretched the creative bones of its players, it's a feature that becomes draining. Sometimes you really do just want to cross a river without having to build a spaceship or a ferry. Sometimes you do just want to be able to get up to the top of a cliff without needing to build a hot air balloon. Even with the Autobuild ability, these new mechanics do really start to feel grating after a while, especially for someone such as myself who struggles with executive dysfunction and doesn't want to build yet another boat or flying car just to travel 10 feet.

Regarding that last statement, I think the inclusion of the Ascend ability helps to combat tiresome climbing, but it never seems to be an option quite as often as it could be. I've seen people praise the ability stating that it helps them avoid climbing cliffs entirely, but more often than not, I've found the ability is only usable for a third of a rocky mountain where it happens to have a platform jutting out that's close enough for Ascend to reach - with the rest of it encouraging you to just climb up naturally, or, you guessed it, use the Ultrahand ability to build your way up. The Ascend ability - like Statis from the game's predecessor - is very specific and not accessible enough in the world's design to make it actually helpful. You know exactly when and where you're supposed to use it, and trying to use it outside of those instances won't get you anywhere. Of course, I'm not going to judge this ability too hard because it's still more than what we had in BOTW, but I find its application isn't quite as useful as it could be.

And boy, there are a lot of things in TOTK that don't have as strong an application as they could. I think there's no truer place this could be said than the expansion of the game's map, through The Sky and The Depths.

Disappointingly enough, just like in Skyward Sword, which suffered for having a strong premise but weak delivery with an open sky that had nothing to do in it, Tears of the Kingdom has barely fleshed out its Sky and Depths areas enough to make them feel memorable or worth going out of your way to explore. Once you've explored 10% of either, you've experienced all of it. While the Sky and the Depths each have their own dungeon, neither of them really feel justified enough to explain why they had to be there. The Depths don't add anything to the nature of the Fire Temple - by the time you're finished with it, you'll forget you're even in the Depths - and while the Water Temple does have the addition of lowered gravity up in the Sky, no other islands have this, so it feels like a random addition in the way of a gimmick that doesn't actually play much of a role in the dungeon's puzzle-solving.

As for the Depths, I do have to say that the game introduced it in the best way possible. No one spoke of them, outside of an NPC in Lookout Landing sending you on a quest to find a nearby one, but they still don't describe to you what you're about to come upon. It wasn't in any of the gameplay trailers. You see a big hole in the ground with gloom coming out of it, you know you can jump down into it, but it's not until you actually do that you realize you're diving down into the belly of a completely different beast. Link keeps falling and you're realizing how dark it's getting and hoping you can pull out your paraglider in time to hit a ground that you realize you cannot see - when the music shifts and the horns blare and your stomach sinks realizing just how dark and vast this place is.

The Depths are what I truly fell in love with in this game. I was struck with that primal fear in my gut that I hadn't felt since playing Majora's Mask as a child. For the first time in forever, I felt like the smaller species, like a speck of dust in unfamiliar territory. It was a welcome feature for a game that - if you had preceded it with Breath of the Wild - needed something to shake things up.

But, unfortunately, that initial thrill wears off eventually. The Depths become just that - a vast expanse with nothing in it. Aside from the odd treasure chest containing a piece of gear, the Bargainer's Statues, and a couple main story quests that take you down there, the Depths have nothing. Mapping them out is a feat in and of itself, even more daunting than mapping out the above ground with its tens of lightroots, but once you get at least 50% through the map, you realize that there's really nothing else to it. In fact, the map of the Depths exactly mirrors that of the map above you, with even less to do due to its lack of notable landmarks (outside of a central mining area, the Korok Grove, and the aforementioned Fire Temple), lack of biome distinction between areas (aside from the Eldin area created specifically for the Fire Temple), and lack of shrines. Once you figure that out, mapping out the rest of it is an unfortunately boring cakewalk.

I think both of these new inclusions in the game are unfortunately half-baked, making TOTK in and of itself feel like a tech demo for something that could have been more expanded upon. That said, it's a tall order, to ask for the game to run an in-depth open world map on three separate levels - the hardware itself already often struggles to load the Depths if you dive down into them too quickly, as the fall itself is its own cleverly hidden loading screen - but it's a shame to see it essentially repeat the mistakes of Skyward Sword, and it's where I feel that "this could have been DLC" complaint comes from.

There are features that feel like mild downgrades from BOTW, such as its new Fuse ability to fuse together weapons. While it seems inventive at first, the amount of inventory being carried over from BOTW makes the gameplay grind to a halt as you scroll through your pop-up inventory list to find the right thing to attach to your arrows or weapons, often times mid combat. While you can sort your menu into different sections - such as 'most used' and 'most powerful' - such a thing could have been fixed by allowing the player to create their own custom lists of items or just reducing what is and isn't capable of being fused. It feels like an unnecessary extra step thrown in to BOTW's weapon degradation mechanic just to make it feel more unique.

Moving on, this is where I want to talk about the game's story. Like the last game, it asks Link to piece together the memories of companions already gone. The story woven within these memories is a tragic one, with an emotional depth to it that I found myself relating far more to than in BOTW, which asked us to sympathize with characters who we had never met and were already gone. On the flipside, TOTK manages to tell a similar story with a lot more emotional depth, now using Princess Zelda as the tether between the present and the past, in a way that I feel works much better than in BOTW. Its climactic twist felt like something you would find in Spirited Away, and its one that I felt was appropriate for the game's setting and themes. That said, I still do not find myself compelled by this game's version of the Champions, similarly to what I experienced in BOTW. At the very least, it brings back cast members from BOTW for us to connect through, such as Purah and Lady Impa, who I was happy to see return.

And then there are the Sages.

I have a lot to say about the Sages.

The Sages have to be the single worst inclusion of this game. And that's not to say they ruin the game, but in a game full of wonderful moments and amazing gameplay, they definitely feel like a tarnishing C- on an otherwise perfect report card. Just like in Breath of the Wild, the game's main story gameplay is the weakest part of Tears of the Kingdom. While BOTW had Link conquering the out-of-control Divine Beasts, TOTK asks Link to unearth ancient temples and awaken the spirits of sages long gone for their powers to be reborn through their descendants, three of which happen to be the successors of BOTW's Champions: Riju, Sidon, and Yunobo. While the development team and press surrounding this game called these temples "traditional dungeons", they are fundamentally the exact same as the Divine Beasts, following the same 4-beat structure in which you have to activate 4 'locks' (themed around the dungeon's setting) to unlock the dungeon's boss. I found these dungeons were often even easier than the Divine Beasts of BOTW, essentially asking Link to solve four separate shrine puzzles to get to a boss that follows a simple mechanic loop. While the bosses are far less repetitive than the Blights of BOTW, they are also far less intimidating or punishing, barely requiring any extensive thought to figure out how to overcome them. The hardest boss in the game - the Gibdo Queen - ironically had one of the easiest dungeons out of the four.

But here's the thing - Tears of the Kingdom is built the exact same way as Breath of the Wild, giving the player freedom to choose the order in which they complete dungeons, if they even choose to complete them at all... but unlike past Zelda games which offered this freedom, TOTK fails in how it delivers these dungeons and the narrative surrounding them. I was miffed upon completing my second dungeon - the Fire Temple - and realizing that the cutscenes it presented were the exact same as the first one I did - the Wind Temple - and sure enough, that same cutscene played out from its respective sage for the following Water Temple and Lightning Temple. They are all the same. While one could argue this was their way of navigating around the freedom of choice - to allow the player to experience neutral cutscenes that won't be out of order or out of context - the memories themselves are also out of order and out of context so having the dungeon cutscenes be varied should be a feature, not a bug to patch out. Currently, with its repetitive cutscenes and what you gain from completing a dungeon, it makes them far less enjoyable to do, knowing you're essentially just doing one big shrine with a giant enemy (one you can find in the Depths for farming, which makes them feel far less unique or imposing) with the reward of a heart in the end.

Of course, I'm forgetting to mention the other reward you get after completing a dungeon. Sage abilities. The biggest downgrade from BOTW by far.

In BOTW, upon completing a Divine Beast, you would be granted with an ability from its respective Champion, typically a passive one - meaning, if you had the ability enabled, it would activate on its own or you could trigger it a specific way, such as Mipha's Grace which would automatically revive you once in between cooldowns (basically a fairy you didn't have to catch) and, the fan favorite, Revali's Gale, which could be triggered by holding down the jump button and would grant you so much more ease of exploring.

Tears of the Kingdom, instead, asks "What if we made all of the Champions their own characters who could run around you, get in your way, and offer even less useful abilities?"

The present Sages - Yunobo, Tulin, Riju, Sidon, and Mineru - are akin to a teenager taking way more dogs than they could handle out for a walk. They are five nuisances who will run away from you when you need them, and run around you when you're just trying to pick up an item, causing you to accidentally trigger their abilities which are simply mapped to the A button. Too many times I've had them trigger a fight with enemies I was trying to avoid, blow away loot I was trying to grab, or blow up explosives that I wasn't aiming at, killing me outright. While they can be turned off, I feel like it could have been far easier to implement them in a way that wasn't so distracting and obtrusive - currently, the way they're implemented basically demands you keep them turned off until you absolutely need them. Considering a map of the Switch controller buttons comes up with the A button highlighted, it begs the question, why even have the other three buttons visible onscreen if they can never be mapped? Why not make use of different buttons for different companions? Or make them passive abilities similar to that of the Champions from BOTW? Overall, their inclusion feels clunky and not well thought out, and their abilities aren't near beneficial or useful enough to justify this much headache. At most, Yunobo is helpful in blowing up rock walls when you don't have Bomb Flowers, and Tulin is helpful in gusting you towards a landing spot while gliding through the sky, but that's about where their usefulness ends. Unlike in BOTW, the efforts required to gain their abilities barely feels like a reward, but more of an obligatory chore, making the dungeons feel even less rewarding to do.

With all that said, unlike in BOTW, Tears of the Kingdom never becomes a smoother experience to explore. The effort you put into completing the dungeons and gaining better weapons and gear never feels rewarded with anything substantial or worth working for. The Sage abilities are a burden and give very little benefit to exploring or combat the same way BOTW's Champion abilities did, the dungeons themselves aren't experiences worth writing home about, and the story is so milquetoast and repetitive that once you beat one dungeon, you've experienced all of them.

That said, while I've done a lot of complaining, there are a lot of things about the game I'm enjoying compared to Breath of the Wild. One such thing are the sidequests - there are a LOT more of them in this game, and many of them feel far more engaging and rewarding than Breath of the Wild. Accessing the Great Fairies requires an actual sequence of quests now, in which you bring a travelling band back together, and from that point forward, you can always hear them playing their music at the stables scattered throughout Hyrule. Hateno has its own questline that rewards you with what's possibly Link's greatest piece of fashion ever, Cece's Hat. Even the small quests feel more rewarding to do because TOTK feels far busier than BOTW did. There are far more NPC's, and the world itself just feels more lively; I wouldn't expect any less in the sequel to BOTW which experienced a cataclysmic event that wiped out the population of the kingdom. It's nice to see the difference in how the towns operate in TOTK because you can feel it through its sidequests. There are still Yiga Clan members in disguise on the surface, but it's far less now compared to BOTW where you couldn't talk to an NPC on the road without getting shanked.

Of course, it wouldn't be a BOTW sequel without one of its most daunting sidequests of all - the Korok Seed quest. This time, there are 1000 Korok Seeds to find, with new puzzles to find them, most notably the escort quests, which require you to build whatever godforsaken Roman-era torture device you need to build to get wandering Koroks from Point A to Point B.

That said, the unfortunate news I have to break to you after finally seeing someone complete the quest themselves - all that awaits you in the end, once again, is "Hestu's Gift" which I have to say, isn't as quite as funny the second time around. While in BOTW it felt like a funny nudge at completionists, in the vein of "Haha, look at you! You worked so hard to get all those seeds and all that awaited you was a pile of poop! It's all in good fun! The real prize was the adventuring you did along the way!" but having that be the end prize again in TOTK where we're exploring regions we've already explored before feels far more passive-aggressive, like it's making fun of you for really doing what the devs expected you to do a second time, with a snarky, "Seriously? You're that stupid? You really thought there'd be something new this time?" Especially considering the Koroks exclusively populate the Sky and the Surface - giving players even less incentive to want to explore the Depths, further robbing this new expansive area of less identity. Ironic that the Depths, an area so big that it requires its own hidden loading screen, would end up having even less to do than the Sky itself, which barely covers any surface area in the game's overall map by comparison. It's a damn shame the devs couldn't be bothered to think of something to reward the player with for all their work. At least in BOTW it could be said the reward was the exploration, as so much of BOTW's map goes untouched by its main story and its world was brand new to us back then - it's not brand new now, though, and the areas that are new are going completely unused.

I realize this review is getting quite long, but I want to close it with one final point - Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom's place in the Zelda franchise.

There's a startling lack of one specific thing that makes a Zelda game truly Zelda, despite the dev's best efforts to return its old school elements such as traditional "dungeons" and its nods to previous games in the title through its referential gear sets implemented right into the game (vs. exclusively as DLC in BOTW) - and that's the Triforce.

It's said that a true Zelda game can't contain its core triad of characters - Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf - without containing the Triforce in the center of all of it, and yet Tears of the Kingdom did this, and frankly, it just proves that point.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not good at singling out a 'favorite'. Whenever people ask me what my favorite Zelda game is, my mind races through all the titles I played as a child - Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, Wind Waker, Twilight Princess - and yet I rarely think of Breath of the Wild and likely won't think of Tears of the Kingdom either. It's not for lack of trying or consideration, I do think both Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom are respectable games, both inclusive and exclusive of one another, but rarely does my mind go to them because to me, they don't feel like true Zelda games. And I didn't realize why until I recalled that the last game we had featuring Link, Zelda, Ganondorf, and the Triforce as core setpieces... was Twilight Princess. A game that will be turning seventeen this year, and will likely be twenty by the time the next mainline Zelda game releases. And one could argue even Twilight Princess doesn't count because Ganondorf was a last second addition - if we want to be really obtuse about it, technically we haven't gotten a game featuring Link, Zelda and Ganondorf as our main characters since Wind Waker, a game that turned twenty years old last year!

I felt its absence especially in Tears of the Kingdom, seeing Ganondorf manipulate his way into stealing the sigh 'secret stones' (I'm sorry but that name is so fucking cringe, please just call them "sacred stones" or "mystic stones" or SOMETHING more interesting than "secret stones", we don't even get any sort of lore or hinting towards where they came from, they're just magical McGuffin's with a stupid name) but not once mention his true motivations prior to finding out about the stone's existence. There was no emotional motivation such as what can be seen in The Wind Waker through a Ganondorf scorned by his lost culture and the kingdom that he just wanted to see wiped out to make things even; or Ocarina of Time Ganondorf who sought to access the Sacred Realm and take the Triforce and all its power for himself. Shit, there wasn't even a mention of Demise, the massive plot-twister of Skyward Sword, which Nintendo attempted to make the ultimate explanation as to why the games and their stories experience the same warring cycle from generation to generation; an explanation that could have worked, if they had actually followed up on it through BOTW and TOTK - yet, despite having the opportunity to do so, seem to just be whistling around the issue, pretending like it's not there. Despite having an Ouroboros in its title art, this cycle of death and rebirth is noticeably gone in Tears of the Kingdom.

Look, I get it. The developers have already stated that they're intent on moving forward with its open world format in future Zelda games. It's making them a lot of money. It's refreshing. It's bringing new fans into the franchise. And it's bridging the gap between generations by re-introducing classic exploration elements of retro Zelda while trying to also balance the narrative elements that modern post-N64 Zelda fans have come to expect.

But when you tear apart all the original components of a franchise, of its themes, its characters, its stories, and replace them with new components only slightly reminiscent of the old... can that franchise really be called the same thing anymore? When people ask me what my favorite Zelda game is, I don't think of Breath of the Wild or Tears of the Kingdom because to me, they're just not Zelda games. They're just what they are - Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. Nintendo had a huge opportunity to make Tears of the Kingdom into a game that could tie its predecessors together with a neat little bow, and yet it still took the half-baked way out, layering it instead with its own story that doesn't even really work or take advantage of the foundation it's standing upon. They're their own games, and that's okay, but I can't help but feel that the further we go down this road, the less it'll encompass what made Zelda what it was to begin with.

And yeah, I'm sure I'm just being a typical 'old Zelda fan' who's complaining about the exact same thing that people complained about in games like Wind Waker and Twilight Princess. But when your Zelda game featuring Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf does not mention a word of the Triforce, I think both retro and modern Zelda fans can agree to even a slight extent that you can't have Legend of Zelda without the Triforce. That would be like having Super Mario without Power Stars (or some equivalent of them) or Kirby without its existential nihilism or Sonic without Chaos Emeralds. Sure, you can have games in their franchises without their respective trademarks, but do it enough times and people will start to notice something's seriously off. I think we can all agree that while Twilight Princess and Wind Waker may be, aesthetically and thematically, completely different games, you can't deny they're Zelda games at their core because they still have that signature cast fighting over those pesky golden Doritos.

In this respect, Tears of the Kingdom feels like it's suffering from the same problem Star Wars is suffering from - it exists to spite the titles that came before it, but knows it won't succeed without the fans of those titles so it makes as many cheeky references to those titles as it can without paying actual respect to them. It even opens the game with references to things that retro gamers will recognize - Rauru, Ganondorf recognizing Link's name, etc. - but then all those elements are later revealed to be unique to TOTK, such as Rauru being the first King of a Hyrule that's exclusive to the BOTW timeline, or Ganondorf only recognizing Link's name because a time-travelling Zelda told him his name, not because it's the same Ganondorf of titles' past. It feels incredibly disappointing to have all this setup and so little payoff especially for these games that are claiming to be the 'next step' for the franchise. It feels less like a 'next step' and more like a complete reboot for a different audience. These games are not reminiscent of what pulled me and my brother into the franchise way back in the day.

But I dunno, maybe it's a weird hill to die on. I don't want to be one of those "not my Zelda" puritans but when the games don't even contain elements of what made them distinctly Zelda back in the day, down to its trademark features, it makes me wonder what exactly where the series is headed.

Anyways. That was a lot. I do want to make it clear that I am enjoying this game, very much so, but like many games that top the charts with solid 10/10's on release, I feel like there are definitely still places the game could have been further refined, despite the extra year it took to polish it. From the inconvenient gameplay halters like the inventory fusing, to the obtrusive butchering of the Sage abilities, so many things could have been tightened up just a bit more to further improve on what Breath of the Wild started, rather than trade out what BOTW did for weaker alternatives. It's a game of gimmicks, rather than one of substance. While Breath of the Wild lacked substance itself in many regards, it at least had the benefit of being a brand new format, with a vast world one could spend hours exploring - with that same world returning in Tears of the Kingdom, with very little done to flesh out the attempts to expand it, it very much feels like it's simply riding off the coattails of Breath of the Wild, and in that regard, I can agree to an extent with the "DLC" arguments, while also agreeing that there are things in TOTK that very much improve on BOTW and make it look like a tech demo.

One thing I will recommend in the end to those of you who might be reading this - do not play Breath of the Wild right before Tears of the Kingdom. Whether it's your first time playing BOTW or you're wanting to revisit it, don't do it. I was fortunate enough that my last time playing BOTW was several months ago, but I've seen loads of people not enjoying TOTK because they replayed BOTW in the days before its release, and let me tell you, this game is far less of a unique or fun experience if you play BOTW right before playing TOTK due to the world design. If you play them one after the other, you'll burn yourself out on it and not get to appreciate what TOTK adds to BOTW's world as much as if you had gone in partially or mostly blind.

And that's all I'm gonna say on that. Tears of the Kingdom gets a 8.5/10 from me. I am excited to see where the franchise goes next in terms of its open world concept, I hope Nintendo can at least stray away from this version of Hyrule so we can get something new like we did in BOTW. Tears of the Kingdom was by no means a negative experience for me, and I'm planning on getting back into it tonight and tackling more of its sidequests, which are probably one of my favorite parts of the game. I could very well be way too hard on it, so this opinion could change over time as I spend more time in its world, but these are my general experiences that have come up in the back of my mind over the past couple weeks since its release.

Thanks for reading!

#tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom review #long post #tears of the kingdom criticism #legend of zelda #TOTK #zelda #breath of the wild #BOTW #review #game review

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twelvemonkeyswere · 10 months

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Love, Loss, and Doctor Who

I know there are about 15 years of experiences for Russel T Davies that have probably influenced the approach with which he's written 14th and Donna's storyline, but I also think there's something to say about the Doctor's growth as a character since 9.

Doctor Who has never been terribly consistent about many things, but something every NuWho Doctor has had in common is how the love for his/her companions influences the story's themes around loss. 9 came out of a war, furious and hurt, and didn't want anyone at his side. Then he met Rose. He allowed himself to become her friend, and he died saving her, in an act full of quiet bravery and determination. Along came 10, who fell in love with her, but he never told her directly, wasn't brave enough. Her loss made him show his cruel streak, as he mistreated and ignored Martha, and Martha calling him out on it made him more aware of how he approached Donna. He was more honest with her about who he was and what he wanted, and then she became his best friend, and she saved the universe, and he had to effectively erase all of their time together, all of her adventures and their friendship, in order to save her. He lost her anyway, in one of the worst ways possible, and that broke him enough he almost became his worst possible self. When she couldn't be there, her grandfather was, holding her place. 10 went as far to sort of voice he saw Wilf as a father figure, in spite of the overwhelming age difference, but nothing more. He died, like 9, for love, saving Wilf even though he very much was not ready to die. 10 wasn't ready for many things.

After that, 11 had a teenage-like approach to most of his relationships (I feel like this is Moffat's writing choices more than anything else), and the result was that he kept most people at bay and it never allowed him true closeness to most of them, even though he had River Song during this time and a lot of love for Amy and Clara. Yet there's always a gap. The madman with a box, the impossible man, always something grandiloquent. He ages for thousands of years, and is very tired by the end and very lonely. But then 12 came along, and that's when things actually turn beautiful.

12 is famously grumpy, but that's because he deeply cares (you can't care about others or the world without constantly getting angry, I think). He creates with Clara what he couldn't have with her while he was 11 - he asks her to see him for who he is, for what he is. 12 offers earnestness. Kindness, not niceness. They become inseparable. His loyalty and fierceness reach glorious highs. He realizes his face is a reminder of something he learned from Donna - that even when the worst happens, you have a choice regarding the good you can do, even if it's small. He holds himself to it, to the last consequences. He still avoids traditional expressions of affection (it's so hard for him to accept hugs at the beginning), but he shows it at every turn. In what he does and *doesn't* do. He spends literal billions and billions of years trying to get out of a timelocked prison because he needs to save Clara. He goes right to the end of the universe to preserve her. He ends up wiping up his *own* memory, this time in a consensual understanding with his companion, because one has to go for both of them to survive, for the universe to survive. They force themselves apart, and 12 keeps to himself for decades after that, until Bill shows up. And it reminds him how beautiful friends are, and the thrills of finding someone with a perspicacity that rivals yours and a curiosity that moves their very life. 12 says he shouldn't make her his friend, but they become friends anyhow, mentor and mentee. 12 constantly said you had to act as if you had already won, and when he is shot, he refuses to die. He has lost too much and too many by this point and the injustice makes him angry, so he doesn't want to lose anything else. It takes him a while to make peace with his departure, but meeting his past self allows him to understand what letting go means for him. He upholds his promises till the very end, best he can. When he regenerates, he has closed down his story with River Song, with Clara and Bill and his own self. He allowed himself to belong to someone again and it HURT him and it could have potentially hurt many more, but he lets go of who he had been, ready to embrace new frontiers.

And when 13 shows up, she immediately pack-bonds with others, showing pure admiration and love for the magnificent world around her. She makes friends with Yaz, Ryan, and Graham and she quickly gets close to them. Her newly found openness gets her to the point she begins to fall in love with Yaz as well. But this time, she's learned from what her past self did to Rose and to Martha, from what 12 achieved and lost. And 13 is cautious and kind, too. She is very aware of the differences between her and Yaz, and where they are the same, and what they could never have, and what they're risking to lose. She isn't quite getting the hang of it yet, and when she returns to old habits and begins pulling back, her friends call her out. But she listens this time, because she's learned she needs to listen. It's cruel and disrespectful to decide for your friends what they can and cannot take. Her relationship with the master deepens, too, in a way neither of them likes, but the Doctor discovers while being 13 that her very past was taken away from her, all those lives she had lived and had been forcibly removed from, she had lost more than she had ever known. So when Dan comes along to remind her to be honest about her feelings, 13 does what 10 couldn't, and admits to Yaz that, were circumstances different, she'd like to make what they have official. But she won't put Yaz in that position, which would only hurt Yaz. They talk about their feelings sitting on a beach, watching the ocean. 13 says if she could she'd make it every day like this, just keeping each other's company, in a clear contrast to the adventure-laden lives she had lived before. She's learned to appreciate the quiet moments again, she's not trying to drown the sorrow with loud noises. And when it's 13's turn to regenerate, she says goodbye quietly too, watching the earth with Yaz one last time. She sends Yaz to her friends. The Doctor's companions find friendship and support in each other while, simultaneously, 13 goes to a cliff to watch the sunrise. She's alone, as she knew she'd be, but her last act is to express gratefulness. She's sad and scared, but looking back with appreciation for all she found and all she had, and looking ahead to whatever life may bring.

And then 14 takes over, and he doesn't know why he has 10's face. But he's here admitting that he deeply loves Donna, that he loved Wilf, that he would like just sitting down for a cup of coffee with Donna, just to spend time with her, that that's an option they could have. They both still love their adventures, of course, but this is a stark change from the fast-paced life they used to have. Now he's here cradling her with a loving gaze as she fades out, no pity or shame, just devotion. He comes after a long line of other faces putting effort into relearning over and over how to love someone who goes away far too quickly, and how to express it. He seems to have a better understanding that the ephemeral nature of both ourselves and our relationships with others is not something to avoid or fear, but rather what challenges us - demands of us - to give our full attention to the present and what we have. The very fact he gets to see Donna again and they get to be themselves with each other after so many years is a miracle on itself. Donna suggests 14 came to say goodbye, I believe that too. But I feel like the power of hindsight is an invaluable gift, and second chances even more, so I can't wait to see what 14 and Donna make of it.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #grief is a powerful emotion and it comes hand in hand with hope #so i really like when the show lingers on it #it's always spoken to me #long post #dw #my thoughts this morning

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aloneatpeace · 1 year

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Cosmic chaos

Chapter 9

“I remember the party. Damon came up behind me, and he was kissing my neck, or biting my neck. I passed out. It's like there's holes in my memory lately. It's just weird. Maybe I let him bite me.” Caroline said

Bonnie looks at her confused “Why would you do that?”

“Can we just not talk about it, ok? Don't want to talk about Damon. I don't want to talk about any of it. Just want to go back to normal. What are you doing with that candle?”

“Um...nothing. What's this? “Bonnie sees the crystal.

“Damon gave it to me. Or he was going to give it to me. All I know is, it's mine now.”

“It's ugly.”

“Well, get your grubby hands off it.”

“The sexy suds car wash is tomorrow. The football team and the band have committed. Well, not all the band. Just the ones who could pull off the bikini. I want, in your face, sexy. I mean, it's a fund raiser, for god's sake”

Derek is continuing to run down the length of a row of warehouses, leaping and hurdling over boxes and generators before making it to some scaffolding on the side of another building. He leaps up onto it and uses it to grab onto the gutter by the roof before hoisting himself on the roof itself. He runs alongside it as he tries to catch up with the Alpha

He leaps onto the corner of the roof of the building next door and gets in a tripod stance as he visually tracks the Alpha, leaping across a roof several buildings away. Derek then gets to his feet and sets off into a run to get a head start to leap across a gap between two buildings when Kate, who has been visually tracking him as well with her rifle sights, takes aim and shoots. Derek is hit mid-jump, and the shock of getting shot causes him to lose the momentum he needs to make it across the next roof. He falls, rolling down the side of the roof and landing hard on the cement ground between the buildings

“UGHHHHH!”

Kate smirks in satisfaction at having taken one of the Werewolves down. She grabs her flashlight, which she had set on the side of a nearby shed while she was tracking Derek, and turns just in time to see Argent arriving in front of her in his own SUV, illuminating her face with his headlights. She turns off her flashlight and walks toward Argent's vehicle, her expression impassive

Back on the ground several yards away, Derek is still recovering from his fall and gunshot wound and tries to catch his breath

“Ughh... Oh...” Derek grunts as he painfully pushes himself into a seated position, though the pain in his left arm causes him to fall back with a wince

Argent has just gotten out of the SUV as Kate approaches him, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's not at all pleased by what he's just walked into as he grabs her roughly by the arm and pulls her toward his car sternly said “Get in.”

Kate scoffs in mock offense before retorting in a sarcastic tone of voice “Not even, "Hello?" "Nice to see you?"

Argent looks around for a moment to make sure no one is watching them before turning back to look at her with a stern, impatient expression “All I've got at the moment is, "Please put the assault rifle away before someone notices."

Kate rolls her eyes, not taking any of this seriously “That's the brother I love.”

The camera pans over to a shed several yards behind where the two are talking, and a very curious Scott peers his head around the corner as he eavesdrops on their conversation. Kate's tone of voice becomes more serious as she tries to defend her actions” Chris, there were two of 'em.”

“The Alpha?”

“I don't know, but one of them tried to kill me—"

Argent, once again voicing his displeasure with her actions, cuts her off, knowing exactly what Kate has just shot the Werewolf with (though not knowing for sure who exactly was shot) without even having to ask her. Scott cocks his head in confusion as he tries to put together what it is they're talking about, not having all of the pieces of the night's events yet

“One of them is gonna lead us to the other. He can't do that if he's dead. “Kate once again scoffs, only this time she's actually slightly offended

“Well, I can't help kill either of them if one of them kills me first.”

Argent, knowing that she's right, sighs before asking his next question “How long will it take?”

Kate shrugs nonchalantly, not really caring either way “Give him forty-eight hours...”

Scott, not knowing that it was Derek specifically who got shot, raises his eyebrows when he realizes that whoever she shot could potentially die, and quickly

“There also something else a vampire maybe”

“Vampires? What made you think there is vampire here?” Kate asks surprised

“Yeah, there was attack few days ago. A girl helped the victim, she said that when the girl kept saying vampires and wounds also points to it”

“Both alive right?”

Chris sigh at Kate lack of interest in the topic “yeah, girl who helped is actually one of Allisons friend” argent think for a moment before saying your name.

Scott tries to listen closer when your name was brought up in the conversation

Kate hum and walks past Argent to get into his SUV, and Argent sighs before walking over to get back into the driver's seat. Scott, still confused, processes the new information he just overheard.

Derek stops when he catches a somewhat familiar scent and lifts his head to identify the source. It's Jackson, who Derek is already somewhat familiar with after having watched him on the lacrosse field after the game.

Derek, still laying on the ground, pulls himself back with his right arm until he's right in front of the wall of the nearby shed, allowing him to lean against it as he cradles his injured left arm against his chest. Once he's in a stable position, he pulls up the sleeve to his injured arm and is shocked to find that, not only is the bullet wound through his inner forearm—barely an inch below the crook of his elbow-- not healing, but it's smoking with a mysterious purple-blue vapor. Derek winces once again and tries to figure out how he can possibly treat this wound, looking understandably panicked as he does so

Jackson is standing at his locker when approaches him, looking tired and weak “Where’s Scott McCall?”

Jackson, who has just grabbed his materials for class, closes his locker door and looks at Derek suspiciously

“Why should I tell you?”

Derek stares Jackson in the eyes, emphasizing the dark circles that have appeared under them as a result of the poison “Because I asked you politely, and I only do that once”.

Jackson remains unimpressed, but seeing an opportunity to learn more about what is going on with Scott, he decides to humor him

“Hmm. Okay, tough guy. You know, how about I help you find him? ...If you tell me what you're selling him?”

Derek stares at him blankly, not knowing what he's talking about, and Jackson gets closer into Derek's face

“What is it? Is it, uh, dianabol? Hmm? HGH?”

Derek frowns impatiently when he realizes what Jackson is implying

“Steroids?”

Derek turns to walk away, but now Jackson is the one who is impatient for answers, and grabs Derek by the arm to stop him as he scoffs before retorting in a sarcastic tone of voice

“No, Girl Scout cookies. What the hell do you think I'm talking about?”

Jackson finally takes in Derek's appearance-- pale skin, sweaty brow, dark undereye circles, and such weakness that Derek is struggling to remain standing-- and smirks

“Oh, and, uh, by the way, whatever it is you're out selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise-- you look wrecked.”

“Derek looks down, and the camera pans to his left hand, where blood is dripping in thick rivulets down his arm and over his fingers before landing in droplets on the ground below it. He clenches his blood-covered hand into a fist before looking back up at Jackson. Realizing that he's running out of time and that this conversation is getting him nowhere, he huffs an annoyed laugh and decides to find another way”

“I’ll find him myself.”

Derek walks past Jackson and heads further down the hallway, but Jackson, not willing to lose his chance to find out what Scott's secret is, turns to stop him

“No, we're not done here—"

Jackson grabs Derek on the left shoulder to try to turn him around, only for Derek to spin out of his grip, grab Jackson by his own left arm, and pin him face-first into the locker, his bloody hand holding him down by the back of the neck. Jackson groans when he makes contact with the metal door

Derek's claws, also covered in his blood, have extended, and they're currently making a vertical row of puncture wounds into the back of Jackson's neck. Derek suddenly realizes what he's just done and removes his hand, revealing the deep cuts he left in his wake before walking away quickly before anyone notices what just happened, leaving a wincing Jackson at his locker

Derek flings himself into a corner to catch his breath, having wasted a lot of his limited energy on the tussle with Jackson, and focuses his hearing to try to get any hint as to where Scott is or you even stiles

That’s when your scent hit me Derek lift his head and try to catch the scent, he found you with Lydia and Allison

“Scott’s coming over? Tonight?” Lydia asks with a smirk on her face

“We're just studying together.”

You node “he clearly falling in everything” you said with a serious face making her node and Lydia frown

"Just studying" never ends with just studying.”

“It’s like getting into a hot tub-- somebody eventually cops a feel.”

Allison, now feeling insecure, looks at her and you anxiously “Well, so what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying, you know, make sure he covers up...” Lydia said making you groan at her

“my ears are not made for this”

Allison looks down in confusion and Lydia huffs a laugh at her lack of experience

“Hello, Snow White! I'm talking about a condom!”

She slaps Allison playfully on the arm as she walks up the steps, and Allison follows after her eagerly to get more information, her voice incredulous “Are you kidding? After one date?”

Shrugging Lydia answer “Don't be a total prude. Give him a little taste.”

She pats Allison on the arm once again, but Allison is still unsure “Well, I-I mean... how much is "a little taste?"

“Are we really have this conversation I just had my smoothie and talk about my best friend having sex just ewww” you playfully try to puke

Derek, who seems shocked to learn that Allison really does care for Scott, as he continues to listen in, their voices echoing through his ears

Groaning she turn to you “yes we are and you I was hoping you can answer my one question”

“Ask away”

A scandalous smirk in face made regret it you raise an eyebrow at her “how big is he?”

Alison cheeks light up read as your eyes widen “for the sake of my sanity I pretend that I didn’t hear that”

“Come on you, his best friend at lest you would have seen it if you didn’t hookup”

At that Allison face dims making you sigh “no I don’t” you state firmly before looking at Allison “ hey , look at me” you make sure you have her attention “ don’t listen what she saying, do what you think right and as long as I know Scott he would be willing to wait for you don’t have to rush”

“You really like him, don't you” Lydia asks

“Well...He's just different. When I first moved here, I had a plan-- no boyfriends 'til college. I just move too much. But... then, I met him, and... he was different. I-I don't know. I can't explain it.

Lydia looks unmoved by Allison's emotional confession and shrugging while you smile at her “ I can. It's your brain flooding with phenylethylamine.”

Allison wrinkles her nose in confusion and laugh “What?’

“You my friend are in love or falling in love just give it a time” you sing your phone buzz its stiles “I gotta go stiles waiting up”

“You mean your boyfriend “she calls out as you walk away waving them

“Nope, my strictly non romantical emotionally supporting dork of husband”

Allison glance at the way you left “did you ever hookup with her?”

Lydia sighs in defeat “I wish I did but that’s not the topic I’ll tell you what to do”

Stiles has just pushed through the front doors to the school with a large crowd of students and heads to where he parked his Jeep in the lot.

Suddenly, the bell for class rings right over Derek's head, startling him and hurting his sensitive ears so much that he is forced to crouch down and cover his ears. Once the bell stops, Derek realizes that he has to catch Scott before he gets to Allison's house and sets off to track him down. Your scent also gone only a faint of it left behind

“Jesus Christ … don’t do that” you help him to stand you give him a sweet smile but all stiles see a little devil grinning at his misery “you’re walking home”

He gets into his vehicle, taking off his backpack and throwing it in the backseat before he pulls out of his spot and gets ready to head home for the day.

You giggle at standing in front of the jeep when suddenly, Derek appears right beside you making you startled let out a yelp stile laugh at this but the pained sound from him attracts both of your attention

You jump up behind him scaring the crap out of him with a shirk you wrap you hands around your stomach laughing shamelessly at stiles as he falls.

“Oh, my God!”

Derek sways on his feet, his arm still raised, you without thinking move towards grabbing on to his shoulders he unknowingly let himself put his whole weight on you making you stumble. Stiles come other side of Derek pulling away his weight off you.

“What hell happened to you?” you yelped

Scott is in the process of unlocking the chain attaching his bike to the bike rack when he hears a ton of honking from other cars in the lot. He looks over and is horrified to see Derek being supported by you and stiles

He mutters “Oh, no, no, no! No, not here!”

“You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's everywhere!” stiles said before looking at his front of jeep which had claw marks, he pulls away from Derek “look what he did, man”

You stumble not expecting stiles to move away and Derek falls to ground slipping from your hands you groan hitting stiles on his arm “stiles focus” stiles point at his jeep

“Look at this, this jeep which take you everywhere you desire is tainted by this asshole” he points at Derek who glare at the two of you. Rather than attending him you too bicker about the jeep “have a heart woman”

Horns continue to honk loudly, and Stiles turns around and notices the long line of cars that is now bottlenecked behind his stopped car as you kneel beside derek “are you dying?”

“I will if you two continue to talking “he said jaw tightened

To make matters worse, other students who are milling around outside of the school are starting to watch the scene unfold in front of them as well. Scott finally makes it to Stiles' car and throws up his hands up “What the hell?”

Instead of waiting for his answer, Scott rushes over to where Derek has collapsed and kneels down next to him with stiles

“What are you doing here?” Scott asks as you pull Derek by his t-shirt

“a little help please” you put his hand on your shoulder as Scott does it with his other hand

“I was shot.” Derek groan by now you and Scott pull him up straight supporting him to stand he look at you “don’t drop me again” you give sheepish smile mutters a small sorry

“He’s not looking so good, dude...”

Scott frowns in confusion “Why aren't you healing?”

“Yeah, you should be healed by now?” you question confused

Derek groans in pain, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment “I can't. It was-it was a different kind of bullet.”

Stiles suddenly gets excited at this news “What, a silver bullet?

Derek is able to fight through the pain long enough to shoot Stiles an irritated, bitchy expression “No, you idiot—"

Scott suddenly puts together what he's seeing in front of him with what he overheard Kate talking about the previous night and realizes what's going on

“Wait, wait-- that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours...” you and stiles share a equally confused look

Derek's eyes widen in alarm “What? Who-who said forty-eight hours?”

“The one who shot you.”

Suddenly, Derek is hit with a powerful wave of pain that causes his eyes to flash bright blue, and he grimaces in agony. When he opens his eyes again, they're continuing to flash back and forth between his Werewolf blue eyes and his human green eyes.

“Finding about who shot him can wait, he needs help” you state

Scott looks horrified his eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching before he mutters at Derek forcefully “What are you doing? Stop that!”

Derek shakes his head as his voice takes on an impatient tone. Behind them, cars are starting to honk even more urgently at how long this is taking “I’m trying to tell you-- I can't.”

“Can we get him inside people are waiting “you said and stiles open the door as you and scott get Derek in the passenger seat, and once Scott shuts the door, Derek turns toward him

“I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used.”

Scott scoffs incredulously “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Cause she's an Argent. She's with them.”

Scott gives Derek a look “Why should I help you?”

Derek, genuinely looking scared at his chances of survival, as if you can feel his fear, you turn scott to look at him “hey, stopping talking as if his life didn’t matter, he’s already half dead. we can’t let him die on us now” scott look down before nodding

Derek glance at you and scott with unreadable look while stiles glance at derek at derek who looking at the both of you he quietly blocks your view from derek.

Derek frown at stiles before whispering “and you need me.”

“Fine. I'll try.”

Scott turns to look at Stiles, who has just climbed into the driver's seat and who's expression makes it clear that he's feeling very.

“You want me to come with you” you ask scott he think for a moment

“No” stiles call your name “you’re not leaving me alone with him” he points at derek who glare him

Scott node too there is chance kate will be there and its better if you go with stiles and look after derek. you shrug before getting in back

“Hey, get him out of here.

Stiles shoots Scott a death-glare “I hate you for this so much.”

Stiles puts the car into drive and sets off just as Allison comes up, frowning in confusion and concern

“Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there.” Stiles said while your busy texting bonnie she said she at carwash

“Almost where?”

“Your house.”

Derek alarmed “What? No, you can't take me there.”

Stile’s scoffing “I can't take you to your own house?”

“Not when I can't protect myself!” derek turns and glance at you stiles see this quickly say “yeah let's all go to her grams house and she will kill both of us for corrupting her baby”

You finally look hearing there bickering “quite it both you, I’ll ask scott if we can take him into the clinic” after the conversation with scott you and Stiles take derek to the clinic

Masterpost

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fizzlicious · 3 months

Text

Black Coffee - Tim Wright x Reader Chapter 3

"Okay, shit. Come on then. I can give you a quick ride."

The man in front of you hesitated, staring at you in a perplexed manner. His arms were still narrowly crossed, one hand outstretched to rub his face as he thought. Most people wouldn't have given a stranger a helping hand, especially when it required driving them to a desolate location at night. The man recognized this, and perhaps he was typically a bit too prideful to accept help. But he was cornered in life, completely out of options. His lips part, a heavy sigh escaping them as he lightly drops his arms to his side in defeat. What else was he to do?

"Yeah uh, thanks, I'd really appreciate that." You gave him a reassuring smile.

"No worries, it won't take long at all," With that said, you turned back and started heading for the parking lot.

Before you even fully grasped what you were getting yourself into, you briskly led him back to your car. Despite only spending a few minutes outside, you were chilled to your bones. You were eager to turn on the car's shitty heat and warm up. He wordlessly followed behind you, approaching the passenger side of the car. As you entered into your drivers seat first, you cursed under your breath at the junk you had left on the passenger seat and floorboard. Mumbling a quick apology, you awkwardly fumbled and tossed the random sweatshirt, plastic bags, and an empty water bottle into the backseat. It had been a long time since you had someone in your car, and it was easy to let things accumulate. Thankfully, he made no comment on your atrocious wreck of a car.

As you turned the key in the ignition, your new passenger got settled in his seat and buckled up. You shuddered before cranking the heat, praying silently it wouldn't take long to kick in. Quickly buckling up yourself, you shifted your car into drive and headed out towards the exit of the parking lot. You spent a few seconds recalling where the nearest hotel was and which backroads would lead you there the fastest. The two of you fell into a thick, tense silence that quickly began to bother you. You tried to think of anything that wasn't meticulous small talk before realizing you didn't even know the guys name. That would be a good start obviously.

"So, what's your name?" You questioned, glancing over at the man beside you. He was bouncing his right leg neurotically, staring off ahead. When he noticed your gaze, he straightened his posture and slowed his bouncing to an easy pace. You weren't surprised he was so nervous. What would you have done if you lost your car in an unfamiliar, new place? A place in the middle of nowhere?

"Tim. I don't think I got yours either," His response was short but polite. You almost laughed at the strange situation you wrapped yourself into. Here you were, driving some stranger with some sort of memory loss to a hotel because he had no damn car, and you just learned his name. Tim. You weren't sure why you felt so compelled to help him, but if he was struggling this bad, you were glad you could help.

"It's [Y/N]. Guess it's nice to actually meet you," You jokingly responded. Tim scoffed and agreed. You had a feeling if you didn't fill in the already forming gap in conversation, it would continue into a long stretch of silence. You were extremely curious on where this man had come from and where he was intending on going. Travelers don't stay in this town, and you highly doubted he had selected the dreary place as a new place to live.

"So, Tim. Where are you from?" You eased into the topic, not wanting to bombard him with the questions that were running through your head. You'd never admit it, but this was the most exciting thing that had happened in years. Your everyday life was a bit mundane. Sure, you were comfortable and you weren't restless or eager to change how you lived, but you knew it wasn't significant. You worked to live and lived to work.

"Uhh, I'm actually from down South. Alabama," Tim specified. He always looked so stoic, his deep voice didn't help the matter. You wondered if he ever lightened up. You envisioned the map of America in your brain, mentally locating the state. Now he had your interest. You had never been to Alabama, and quite frankly, you didn't know much about it.

"Oooh, a southerner. Why are you all the way up here?" You inquired, smiling lightly. While still keeping your focus on the road, you took small glances at Tim as you conversed. It took him a few seconds to respond. He was mentally wracking up a proper response.

"I've just been traveling. Never got to before, so," He trailed off, tapping his legs against his thigh. His vagueness felt complex, but you didn't pay much attention to it.

"I get that. I've never left this town. Sometimes I think about getting a fresh start too," You related to his statement. Considering what he had told you, you assumed he was on a bit of a nomad journey. You tried to envision yourself packing your sacred belongings up, loading them into your car, and taking off into the unknown. Sure, you were a bit of a homebody, but having a period of traveling seemed fulfilling.

"Do you have a plan? Or like, an end point?" You kept the questions rolling as they naturally came to you. Tim didn't seem to mind them or be annoyed by the conversation.

"No, not really. Just taking it day by day I guess. I gotta get my car, then I'll figure it out again," He thought aloud. A burning curiosity struck you. How did this man lose his entire car?! Didn't he sleep in it? Was it stolen? How would he find it if he didn't know this town or where it would be?

"Speaking of, what exactly happened? Did it get stolen?" You questioned. In such a rural town, you weren't sure who would steal a car but you also figured it could be a bit hard to find it if it had been stolen. With backroads upon backroads with branches of houses deeply set back into the woods, it would be easy for someone to tuck it out of sight.

"I don't know," Tim admitted as he exhaled harshly. It didn't quite make sense to you. You knew the topic was clearly a sore spot, but you didn't understand.

"When did you lose it? Did you go out drinking? Or stay at a motel or something?" You pressed harder. How long had he been walking around, aimlessly searching? You felt a pang of sympathy for the dark haired man.

"Look, I couldn't even tell you. I don't remember," Tim groaned and ran a hand through his hair worriedly. You frowned at his anxious demeanor. It didn't seem like he had too much fun on a drunken night and goofily misplaced the thing. This seemed a bit more serious. What were you to say or do? You definitely didn't want to keep reminding him of how fucked he was.

"Shit, I'm really sorry. I hope you find it soon," You mustered genuinely. He thanked you quietly. The silence returned.

Noticing the heat had been blasting for awhile now, you turned it off. Tim was in a pretty thick jacket, you hoped he wasn't sweltering underneath it. You were already on the verge of sweating. The hotel was about fifteen minutes away now. It was conveniently located right next to the only highway that led you out of the town, and the only other buildings in that area were gas stations and run down convenience stores. Where you two were, you were still surrounded by a thick shroud of trees. With no street lights, you relied on your bright high beams and were thankful you invested in LED bulbs. Fearful of a deer straying into the road, you kept your wary gaze on the tree line. Your eyes were practically trained to spot the yellow eyes that reflected your car's lights in the dark. Sometimes that was the only warning you'd get. As you drove, you'd occasionally pass by small roads that led to neighborhoods and individual cabins would hug the roadsides. Seeing these signs of civilization were comforting. It was always a bit creepy driving out here at night.

Reflecting on the conversation, you felt a bit guilty. You didn't want him to have to continue sitting there, worrying about his current situation. And you especially didn't want his memory of the car ride to be of you pestering him. In social settings, you were always able to make a snarky comment or funny expression to lighten the mood. Now, you were determined to elevate the sour mood and make him smile.

"You really only drink coffee black?" You snickered in a joking form of judgement, "I don't know how you drink something so bitter and disgusting." Tim glanced at you and scoffed.

"Yeah and let me guess, you fill half your mug with cream and sugar," His assumption was dead on. You grinned and pretended to take immediate offense.

"Yes! It needs flavor! What's wrong with that?" You snapped back.

"It's a disgrace to coffee!" Tim insisted, "It's not even coffee at that point!"

"You're a disgrace to coffee!" You rebuked quickly, not able to form a proper comeback. A small chuckle came from Tim.

"What?!" He laughed. Sure, it was from a mix of confusion at your statement and humor, but you made him laugh. Looking over, you internally beamed. He was smiling softly, slowly and calmly tapping his fingers against his leg now. You focused on him, taking in the faint smell of cigarettes and studying his features. His messy dark hair was swept over to the opposite side, revealing more of his face to you. His eyes squinted naturally as he smiled. Tim turned his head and met your gaze, which only made you laugh in return. You forced your attention back on the road, laughter fading into a smile.

Now that the tenseness of the situation had gone, you felt a bit more at ease and hoped Tim did too. While the thought hadn't struck you before, you recognized how attractive Tim was. His messy hair seemed intentional and his sideburns seemed to frame his face perfectly. Reminding yourself you'd probably never see the man again, you quickly erased the thought.

"Sorry, sorry. That was terrible, I know," You sighed. "But seriously. Don't order that shit at my diner again." The two of you continued in light conversation for a few minutes, touching over important topics like whether a hotdog was considered a sandwich or if pineapple belonged on pizza. Tim was quick to think and come up with a witty comeback. The two of you disagreed on each topic, but you were just glad to have a bit of normalcy even if it was silly. Before you knew it, the darky windy road turned into a straight two-laned road. Street lights and stop lights replaced stop signs and deer caution signs. You were minutes away from your destination now.

As you pulled into the hotel, you parked directly in the front on the left side of the parking lot and leaned back in your seat with a sigh. The drive had taken you twenty-five minutes and in the opposite direction of your apartment. You were going to be absolutely exhausted by the time you got home, considering it would be past midnight. Regardless, you were glad you had helped Tim out, and you were relieved he turned out to not be a serial killer. You stared at the bright fluorescent sign before turning your head to face your passenger.

"Well, thanks for the ride [Y/N]," Tim uttered as he unbuckled his seatbelt. You shot him a warm smile.

"Of course, be safe out there. I hope you find your car and get out of this shitty town," You wished. He groaned at the reminder as he reached for the door handle.

"I'll be back at it tomorrow." Tim stepped out of the car into the cold night. You almost let him go without another word, but at the last second spoke up.

"And hey - if you ever need a coffee, you know where to find me." Tim locked eyes with you, smiling ever so faintly.

"Thanks, I'll remember that. Have a good night." With that, the door was shut. You waited for a second, watching as he disappeared into the lobby of the hotel. Pulling yourself back to your normal life once again, you pulled out of the parking lot and began to head home in silence. You felt a bit sad that the car ride had gone so fast. You enjoyed going back and forth with Tim on the silly trivial matters. It was probably just because he brought something new and exciting to your night, but you'd miss the odd man. Forcing yourself to stay alert, you drove as fast as you could home. You were ready to collapse in your bed and fall into a deep sleep. Luckily, the drive home flew by.

It wasn't until you had trudged into the front door of your apartment that you realized you never threw the trash bags into the dumpster.

to the next chapter

#marble hornets #creepypasta #tim wright #marble hornets x reader #tim x reader #fanfiction #creepypasta x y/n #marble hornets x you

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2sleepy4dis · 2 years

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ Persona & Velvet Room ❞

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° One-Shot

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Linked Universe x Wildcard!Reader

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Note: Long! First part is introduction on Velvet Room then the second part there's a bit of the chain. This part mostly concentrate about the Reader and some info!

»»-----------►

A blue wake drifts in the darkness. You open your eyes and see a butterfly, uncannily blue, it posed itself on a lamp.

"Welcome to the Velvet Room."

A voice echoed along with laughter in the room from nowhere made you flinch and search for it.

"My name is Igor… I am delighted to make your acquaintance." The voice introduced itself… It was a very familiar name and a familiar line too.

"You already know that this place exists between dreams and reality, mind and matter… And you who signed the contract can enter this place… Welcome to your velvet room."

You know it very well but you let the voice continue not being able to understand the whole situation... But why is that you're only able to hear a voice...?

"Even if you're still unable to see what lies in front of you, the longing in your heart remains…

"…What longing you ask…? Hmmm...

A little light shall mark the beginning of the answer of your doubts."

…light? Your gaze fell on the butterfly on the lamp. Slowly and carefully you approach it. The butterfly gently burns off blue and with a touch of your fingertips it dematerializes, scattering its flame around and then uniting inside the lamp. Its velvet blue color now illuminates the room. In the middle there's a sofa. a desk on the opposite side. Against the wall the room is partially surrounded by shelves while further there's a black screen. The lamp is the source of light while on the ground and walls you can see patterns where blue lights run through toward the black screen and the desk.

Are you transported to another world? Or game..? But Link… You haven't even said goodbye and—! It didn't took much when you sunk. You were just someone who got lost in the dimension and had no particular relation with them. Separation was bound to happen. What difference would it make if you suddenly poofed out of their world? …What's the point…?

"My my, this is quite a room."

You flinched and turned around at the owner of the voice right next to you. Which you swear wasn't there before. The person was tall, fair-skinned with hair white as snow and eyes of marigold colors. Their outfit recalls a butler and the color matches the velvet blue with hints of black, white and gold.

They bowed at you, a hand on the back and another in the chest. They lifted their heads up with a distant smile and introduced themselves as a resident of the velvet room and to be your attendant, your butler to be specific.

The butler turned on the desk and so did you. Approaching it closer, you notice it has some buttons on the right side. Familiar arrows and four letters and two buttons next to each other and lastly a white circle. On your left a black screen.

"Allow me to demonstrate," the butler moved behind it and tapped the white button and it turned to gold which light started running through the gaps of the blue desk. "Magnificent," they whispered. "We attendants most likely rely on books. But I do have experience on this so I hope to be helpful nonetheless."

Understanding what they meant, you nodded. The black screen on the desk lightened and showed a hologram of a dagger. Silver, s-curved with light-ivory hilt and engraved patterns on the blade.

Your eyes widened at a sudden memory recollection. You read it out and held it in your hand remembering that… Stunned, you put the same hand on your chest.

"An interesting way of a persona manifestation. A dagger." The butler said and you looked at them to catch their eyes. An amused smile draws on their lips. "Not exactly adequate to fight… but it's all on the holder's hand what it's used for." They paused.

"So, what will you use it for, I wonder." Their smile became more clearer yet it was unattached to any emotions. They turned around and walked then turned to you.

"A vile entity was able to take hold of incomprehensible knowledge to mankind! And you…" They held out their hand to you with open palm "...aware of your role as stand here yet still lost and with a soul like wavering flame!"

"...Thou shall not ask for answers that time will give.

"Strengthen your heart along the path, be brave to form bonds and wise shall you be…

"…And I shall be at your service to guide you in this colliding worlds."

Their words and their figure faded in the darkness as you woke up. The unnatural velvet blue is now replaced with the color of the morning sky. It was as if you hadn't slept at all, chest rising up and down after the dream… but it was not as you know it was true.

The Velvet Room… This means the events have to do with the subconscious and consciousness of mankind but you have no further information to conclude the wholeness of it… is this Hyrule real or a figment of mankind…?

"They woke up!" An enthusiastic voice notified, making your head turn. It was Link. Wind to be specific. The youngest ran toward you and the others followed him.

The chain gathered around you. The others just stayed quiet waiting for you to speak while Hyrule and Time kneeled at your height as the former asked how you were feeling.

"I'm fine… I… umm…" you lower your gaze, lips pursing and debating if to tell them about your dream. The chain looked at each other with concern.

"H-Hey, now. Let's take it easy." Wild spoke relieving the tension "How about we eat something first? You can't think clearly with an empty tummy!"

The suggestion was favorable as everyone nodded. Time looked at you and pointed to a wooden basin filled with water.

"C'mon, get yourself ready. The water should still be warm." He said with a gentle tone. You nodded and stood up with his help and get prepared for the day.

You looked at the group and concluded to not tell anything for now…

»»———-　　———-«

That's it! That's All! For Now!

A/N: Thanks for reading until here! I'm actually hoping no one would read this...? ahah;;; I feel like going back in 2013 l, oh dear. Sorry if my content is... off-topic...? >_< )... a fanfic crossover of a fanmade... what in the world??

#🖊 ima writes #linked universe x reader #linked crossover

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kathxsoupp · 1 year

Text

In Love With a Fever: Chapter 3

William Afton x law enforcement ! reader (fem)

Summary: Reader is a detective who was put on the missing children incident case, her person of interest is William and is currently investigating him.

WARNINGS: very graphic violence throughout the whole fic, eventual smut, slow burn, age-gap between reader and Will, manipulation, mutilation, broken bones, use of pet names, Will is obsessive, mentions of death, death and murder, there will be smut, a lot probably, I think, dub-con at some point maybe, fluff and angst, idk if I missed something just read with caution

Notes: This fic is also posted on my AO3, linked in my pinned post, I'm updating this fic every Monday and it's the first thing I have ever posted, so I hope you like it!

--MINORS DNI--

Chapter 3: Encounter

It was a perfect crime, really. He made stuffing his victims' lifeless bodies into animatronic suits a habit after every strike, which was foolproof to say the least. Despite countless complaints from parents and employees about the rotten stench coming from inside the robots, no one has ever checked inside them while looking for the missing bodies.

He lifted small, lifeless Cassidy into his arms and placed her down next to a dismantled animatronic suit. This one looked exactly like the one on the sign above the entrance to the restaurant, He took Cassidy by the arm and ruthlessly snapped the bones in her limb. He repeated the same thing one each one of her limbs and finished off with her neck. her arms and legs were now completely limp and stuck out in different, unnatural directions. He was now able to hide his traces in his already prepared robot suit.

You looked around the pizzeria for your man of interest when finally you saw him. Exactly as described, he stood there towering over everyone else with the height of 6'4, his brown hair resembling a bird nest sat on top of his head with the sides already graying. He had dark circles below his eyes and was very thin. He was wearing a white button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with a black tie and black slacks. Overall, he resembled a charming, professional man who did have a slightly exhausted appearance which you couldn’t really blame him for, considering the circumstances. It took you a little to realize you were... staring? You blinked a few times and brushed through your hair once more and fixed your blazer before approaching the man. You noticed he seemed lost in thought as he was leaning against a wall looking down at the ground. With a charming smile you spoke.

“Good morning. Mr. Afton, is it? I’m agent (y/n) (l/n). I will be in charge of interviewing you today as a part of our investigation.”

William's POV

There were cops everywhere. Surrounding my restaurant and turning my creation upside down. They searched every single corner of this building, but not one of them was smart enough to search the robots. Dumb and clueless, each and every one of them. All I could do was stand there and observe, since I wasn't allowed to leave. To be honest, it was quite entertaining. Keeping my act and playing stupid. I lost two of my children as well. I was a "mourning father watching this madness unfold and reliving unpleasant memories." I knew everything. Yet no one would even think to suspect me. Yes, I was called here to be questioned and all that, but it wasn't truly because it could have somehow been me. I just own this place.

While watching everyone do their thing, I leaned my back against a wall, crossing my arms on my chest. It irritated me, that everything in my pizzeria was being searched. I guess it kind of felt as an invasion of privacy, since this was my hard work. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone approaching me. I sighed and snapped my head towards the person, seemingly startling them-

Oh?

Well hello there...

...Who is this sweet little bunny?

Next to me, stood a professionally dressed woman. She seemed quite short in comparison to me, but hey, everyone does. She had sweet (e/c) eyes, which were looking up into mine and an adorable, kind smile. She introduced herself to me as one of the cops in charge of questioning me. How cute. Dumb and oblivious, just like her coworkers. Perfect. You will be of good use, bunny.

Y/N POV

"Yes, that's right, miss (l/n)." he replied.

He had a deep, husky voice with a British accent, which did make you blush slightly, but not quite enough to be noticed. You mentally slapped yourself across the face. First of all, this man was potentially a murderer and second of all, you never lose your cool especially not over your possible suspects.

"Please, follow me." you said, and started walking towards a room where they interviewed Henry a moment ago, William following behind you.

When you reached the room, you opened the door and stepped aside for him to walk in first. You both sat down opposite each other and you pulled out your files, your notepad with a pen, and a small recording device.

"I'm going to have to record our conversation for the purpose of replaying it later and collecting more information, is that alright with you, mister Afton?" you informed He raised his hands as if he was surrendering and leaned back on his chair: "Suit yourself." he replied vaguely. "Alright, thank you." you said as you pressed record on your device. "Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, 8:46 am, Tuesday, 20th May 1985." you stated for the recording and then looked back at Afton. "Please, state your name and post for voice identification later on." "William Afton, Owner of Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria, head of business." he said monotonously. "Thank you. I'm informing you in advance, that you are not under arrest and are free to leave at any time. You also have the right to seek legal advice if you so desire." you said, to which he solely replied with a nod of his head. "So, mister Afton, for how long have you been working in business?" "For as long as I can remember. My business partner mister Emily and I have opened a diner a few years ago. It was quite successful I have to say, but we had to shut down eventually due to an incident. Before that I worked for smaller companies back in my hometown." everything he said checked out according to the file you received about him. You noted it down in your notebook. "Tell me something about your family." you added another prompt into the conversation. He let out a sad chuckle before speaking: "I am a father of three, however I've lost my youngest son in an incident I have previously mentioned and my only daughter went missing. It has been a few years, but we haven't heard anything about her since. I live with my oldest son Michael who has distanced himself from me. It's been this way since he's played a part in the accident which took away my son, but I learned to forgive him." liar. he thought to himself. "It is dreadful for me to watch how all the other parents are going through the same pain I have been through before." he kept his act up. You, as a person who is never oblivious to anything, felt the urge to believe this poor, grieving man he pretended to be. "I am so sorry for your loss, mister Afton." "I manage." he replied, as in an attempt to lighten up the mood. You flashed him an empathetic smile and carried on. "Where were you on May 17th at roughly 12:00 am to 6:00am?" "If I remember correctly, miss (l/n), I was at home most likely reading or working on blueprints. I have medically diagnosed insomnia, so I have significant trouble sleeping." "Is there anyone who could possibly confirm your statement?" you questioned. "Yes. My son, Michael, who was at home with me during that time." he replied. "You can also check the surveillance footage. There is one right at the main entrance where you can possibly see me leaving after work." he motioned upwards as if pointing to the cameras." "We have already done that mister Afton, I fear that all the footage has been wiped clean." after you informed him about that he gave you a slightly shocked expression. "I see." "You've mentioned earlier that you and your son Michael are not on the best terms-" "With all due respect, miss (l/n), I feel like that is personal information, which I am not very comfortable elaborating on." he cut you off. Curious one aren't you. he thought, You'll have to work a little harder to get more out of me. "I understand, my apologies." you said, slightly startled. He leaned forward, his hands clasped on his desk, "Anything else you've wanted to ask?" "No mister Afton, that will be all. Anything else you would like to add or clarify about your answers?" you asked him. "No, miss (l/n). That's all." he said while giving you a smile.

You switched off the device and made a note about it existing. After that, you placed everything back in your bag and you turned back to him, ready to let him go, when suddenly he pulled out a business card out of his pocket and passed it over to you. You looked at it and then back at him with a puzzled expression on your face.

"In case you'll have some further questions or need my help with the investigation." he replied with a smug smile on his face. You took the card from him and place it in your bag along with your other items. "Thank you for cooperating with me, mister Afton." you stood up and held your hand out for him to shake. "The pleasure is all mine, agent." he replied as he shook your hand, his big and rough one enveloping your way smaller one.

You both exited the room and parted ways. As you were about to let your boss know about the interview, you ran into Caris.

"So, how did that go?" she asked you. "Fu- Caris you scared me where did you come from?" you said with a chuckle. "Sorryyy." she said with a giggle. "You're a lucky one, (y/n). That one is so hot to be honest"

You looked at her horrified but deep down you agreed with her. You found him incredibly attractive as well. Only now, you noticed how fast your heart was beating and how you were a tiny bit disappointed your questioning was over and you'll possibly never see him again.

"What the fuck, Caris." "You'd make a cute couple, just saying..." she teased. "Girl, I don't date potential serial killers." "He isn't one though. Well, doesn't seem like one." "I don't know, Caris. I don't want to but I'm starting to believe everything he told me. I'll pass it over to the boss later, I'll need a view from a different perspective on this." "Okay, well good luck with that, (y/n)" "Thanks... See you around!" you called out to her.

After concluding your work for the day, you finally got to head home. The whole drive home you only had William on your mind. It wasn't like you had a crush on that man or anything, you just thought he was an interesting one. When you got home, you unpacked your bag and pulled out the card he gave you earlier, that you completely forgot about. It was pretty tempting to dial his number, but you decided against it. You didn't truly have a reason to call him you just wish you could have a conversation with him. And maybe, just maybe you wanted to listen to his voice again. You sighed and set the card aside and plopped down onto your couch. You turned on the TV in hopes it would distract you and force you to think about something else.

#william afton fanfic #william afton x reader #william afton #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fandom #fnaf fic #fanfic #michael afton #henry emily

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bitchfitch · 2 years

Text

The night shift at Uncle Jim-Jim's Arcade and Fun Complex had gotten a lot less spooky since Silas learned the true nature of the monster which haunted the place. He double checked his work like he did every night, a final round of inspection through the massive and dimly lit building before returning to the arcade.

It was rare the 'monster' stayed quiet the whole night, usually prefering to follow Silas around the building while dicking around on his phone until it was time to go wherever they felt like going that night.

"Bats!" Silas called from the entrance, "I'm done. Do you want to go bother ducks in the park or something?"

There was no response from the dark room beyond.

"Chase? You're here right? I'm not talking to nothing?" Silas asked before whipping around, expecting the bastard to have snuck up behind him, but there was only the empty lobby. No waif of a vampire looking like a victorian orphan boy lost in time emerging from the shadows.

"Chase? Seriously, Bats, I'm starting to worry," Silas walked into the room, grabbing the step stool from behind the prize counter as he passed.

He approached the crane games, and set his stool down, climbing up to get a better look at the coffin that rested on top of them. Still fully closed, no gap between the lid and the box that Chase liked to keep while he slept.

Silas knocked on its side anyways, "Babe? You in there?"

he got a loud, drawn off groan in return.

"Everything ok in there?"

"Nooooo," Chase whined from within.

"Gonna tell me what's up?"

"No."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"... No."

"Ok, then you're going to have to come out, I'm not going to stay perched on this all night, my darling."

the lid cracked open a hair, "It's rude to try and make people come out you know? Very problematic."

"Funny, how making an old man climb a crane game to talk to you is also, what did you call it, 'problematic'?"

"Cringe," Chase huffed.

"Yeah, well at least I'm trying to stay hip. Come on, we can go back to my place and watch a movie or something."

"No. Its- I love you, but please just leave."

"I love you too, and I'll go if you really want me to, but will you at least give me a hint on what's happening? Did I do something to upset you?"

"If I tell you you're going to be stupid about it."

"Let's be honest, I was going to be stupid about it no matter what." he grinned when that silly joke got a giggle out of Chase.

"... Promise to go straight home? Lock your doors and salt lines around every entrance. Extra garlic by the windows."

"Chase, are you in danger-"

"Promise."

"I promise, I promise, swear it on my parents' graves."

"Thank you," the lid opens fully, Chase sitting up, his hair a mess and his pale face streaked red with dried tears, "My sire is back from his trip, and I just want to keep a low profile until he leaves again. He ..." Chase grimaces, "He and I arn't a thing. Haven't been for years, but he doesn't agree with that. I- I really don't want him knowing about you, ok?"

"Chase..." Silas has to pick apart the layers of what Chase just said to him, "I- Let's start with this, What do you mean he's your Sire? Like, he's your father?"

"No, He's the guy who turned me into a vamp. He... No, not dealing with that tonight, putting that memory back into it's box. He turned me, he thinks we're still a thing and is the worst person ever, and would absolutely kill you if he found out I was quote un-quote cheating on him with you. That's All you need to know," chase rambles off. "Leave, I'll text you when he's gone again,"

Silas nods, he and Chase would talk about this more later, "Do you want me to vamp proof the entrances? I've got salt hoses in the trunk and everything already."

"No. He'll know someone is helping me and be... Listen Silas, I- He's not going to be happy with me no matter what and he's never been reasonable. It's going to be a lot safer and easier to just let him have what he wants until he fucks off again."

"Bats is he-"

"Don't say it. Yeah he is. I- I don't want him to but he is and there's no stopping it. If you aren't comfy with that... I dunno, break up with me or something." he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, "Or just break up with me anyways because dating a vampire was a stupid idea and dating me specifically was an even stupider idea."

"I'm not breaking up with you for what's being done against your will," Silas's brow furrowed.

"I know, you're too nice and good and -"

"I'm not to good for you either, keep out of that doom spiral too."

"Meanie."

"Yeah. Cruelest fucker in this city at your service. But I'm serious, do I need to call Mindy? I don't like that she kills people but this is a guy who sounds like he needs to be dead."

"Chances are he'll just kill her. He's not like every other vamp she's hunted or any of the other monsters kicking around. He was the first and he's not nearly as easy to kill as the rest of us."

"But he can be killed?"

"You Promised you wouldn't be stupid about this."

"I'm not being stupid."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not being stupid Yet, then."

"Silas. Please, Please Please Pretty Pleas I am actually Begging you. Go home. Come back for your next shift, pretend you don't know me while you're here. Leave as soon as it hits closing even. I'll handle cleaning up for the night and everything."

"You suck at cleaning," Silas sighed, "I'll go. I'll be real clever and smart. But, when it's all done, Promise me you'll come to my place and let me baby you for a bit? Take you on a nice date, and then maybe actually talk about what's happening here?"

"I won't want to."

"I know, but I don't want you to have to be alone in this. You can tell me anything and just get it out of your system. Ok? Then you can beat me at one of the videogames you keep 'forgetting' at my place or whatever. Deal?"

Chase looks at him, his face half hidden behind his knees, but his expression is still so obviously soft. The pain and nerves keeping him tense, but the love is all there, "Deal."

#tbh this might be the last time Silas has this sort of characterization #i read a Really good fic yesterday and its got me Obsessed with the strong and silent type o character #I was going to go with something similar for Silas back when I first made him #but now ive seen the light #I Get how to make their characters Work now #fuck yeah #anyways the fic was 'watch the tide come in' by blackjaq on ao3 #its made me brainsick.#srsly its the best book ibe read in Ages.

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thatguyender · 2 years

Text

February 3rd, 2035

Auther's Note: I promised no angst (ish) story to the DL story. So here it is.

Available in AO3

Hakon helps J with setting up the place. The foundation is all set and there was just a few more things before they could get the place up and running!

“His dreams… I want to make that happen.”

Hakon was on his way to the building where his best friend Quinn and his partner Iskander used to live. A simple trip down memory lane as he carried a bag filled with building materials in his old but trusty bag—which has definitely seen better days at this point—and other things he is currently tasked to do. He remembered running around the buildings of Central Loop, around the apartment, to see who was the fastest.

Obviously, he would win all the time.

Even though he'd met the craftsman a few years ago, he'd grown quite fond of the Harran man. His crafts were the best that he knew, and not only that, he was a great guy. It's fun to chat with him or even hang out with him while he does his work.

It’s heartbreaking to know that Hakon wouldn’t be able to see those faces anymore. But that doesn't mean their legacy will be carried on by someone else.

The adoptive son of Iskander before the fall, Hakon watched the kid grow from when they moved to the Fish Eye to work closely with the Nightrunners. He even remembers the day where J would spend a lot of time in one of the two places: The Workshop, where Iskander would always work, or the Range (truthfully, it’s just a platform where people can target practice at the infected below), where Quinn could be found practicing his archery.

Always a bundle of joy to be around.

Something bright for this dark apocalypse.

Though, not every bright star will always shine brightly.

Sprinting across the green shrugs that grew on the roofs, he boosted himself off one of the ventilation shafts with the front of his legs, aiming for the safety of the other side. After precisely jumping across the gap that the vast emptiness filled, Hakon lands with little effort. Freerunning has turned out to be a blessing in disguise; the ability to move from building to building to avoid the infected has been a valuable asset for any survivor.

Simple to learn and effective to use.

Hakon reaches a fenced area, UV lamps armed and ready for the night. Keeping the Volatiles away and any wondering bandits away from the building. He reaches for an opening as he calls out. “Hey, Ender. Where do you want these?”

Hakon chuckled at the name.

Ender.

“Awesome, you got the last things! Thanks a ton, Haks. Could you put them by the rest? I need your help with this.”

Coming from the door, J held a piece of paper in his hand, not paying attention to his surroundings.

“Oof-” J says, walking into a pile of boxes that he had left right outside the door.

The ex-nightrunner watches the kid catch himself the moment he trips over the box filled with stuffed toys. They scavenged toys from the storeroom, which they will later donate to schools in the Villador area.

Or, actually, Hakon would.

J had developed…

In any case, J felt more comfortable when he remained close to his apartment. He feels most secure somewhere. Hakon didn’t want to force him to experience another round of panic; it took them ages to get them from Alberto back to his apartment.

The safe zone is rather just an extension of J’s apartment, built with the help of the people back at the Fish Eye—Hakon tends to avoid them when they do. Taking advantage of the open space roof that was one floor below, they connected them with a stair from the balcony to the top of the newly constructed workshop. Other than that, the building itself matches that of the Fish Eye, only smaller. Maybe you could compare it to the bar area? That’s just the front bit, at least.

“Watch your step, kiddo.” Hakon chuckled, set the supplies down by the wooden stack, and approached the younger man.

It’s been almost a year since Iskander’s disappearance and Quinn’s death, and the situation has definitely improved over time. Hakon remembered how much of a mess things were a few days later, and it broke his heart to see how close J came to death.

Fortunately, even in the post-apocalyptic world, there were people who aided his recovery greatly. Despite his best efforts to pay him a visit at Alberto, Hakon needed to deal with that bastard Waltz.

He hated working for the man.

He knew J would be on the radar, just like Lawan.

Hakon needed to play it safe and keep his distance until things cooled down whenever he had a job to do.

Oddly, this period seems to be much quieter, as his presence with the Renegades was almost second to none. Giving the chance for the ex-nightrunner the chance to spend some time with his best friend’s son and be the uncle he deserves.

“Whatcha need help with?”

“This weird-shaped thing.” J pointed at a rough drawing on the wrinkled piece of paper. It has seen better days, but for what they are worth, they are worth a lot to the craftsman. They were plans drawn by Iskander’s very own hand before they were put away to collect dust on some shelf.

Iskander always wanted to open a shop—not just that but also a place where people could come together.

Right under their home.

Sure, they had the Fish Eye, the Bazaar, the PK ship, and all that, but he wanted somewhere that J could somewhat grow, learn, and love.

His very own place of work.

Although there were some difficulties in reading the language it was written in, the best they could decipher was through the crude-looking drawings that the master craftsman had. If they had someone who could read the Turkish language, then it could have made everything much easier. J always had trouble learning another language; the native tongue of Villador was the closest thing he could muster, to some extent.

But for now, they’ll only have to assume what the details are saying based on observation.

“I don’t know…” taking the paper into his hand to study the drawing, “Are you sure that’s not a doodle of a fish?”

“Honestly, I’m starting to think it is.” J would take a deep breath and pull out a notebook from his pockets, attempting to clear his mind of the tasks that needed to be completed. Taking the paper back, neatly folded it into one of the pages. “Okay, we’ll worry about that later. But…”

Hakon followed him closely as they entered the building.

“But…?” Hakon would take a wooden chair, placing it in front of him as he sat with his chest against the back. “Kiddo, you need to stop with the pause.”

Rising to take a seat at the counter, grabbing a water bottle beside him, and tossing it at the Frenchman who caught it. “Are we rushing this?”

“What makes you think that?” Tugging on the top of the bottle, he squeezed the bottle to let the precious liquid flow into his mouth.

Water, at last.

All that carrying made him thirsty for the substance.

“Be realistic. It’s almost a year.” J quietly said, staring at the ground. “I can’t even leave this place without being.. You know.”

Hakon paused, lowering the bottle.

“I’m still getting nightmares about that day.”

“Kid…”

“Don’t kid me, Hakon. I feel like this whole idea is just a way for me to cope with my loss, what if I’m not ready? What if I fail?”

“J–”

With his hands under his head, J was about to have another round.

“It’s going to happen again. It’s going to happen to you someday and I won–”

Hakon stood from his seat, approaching the panicking Filipino with both his hands on J’s shoulders for reassurance.

“Joseph.” He said.

“I–” J looked up from his hands, staring at Hakon’s dark iris, before looking back down at his hands to realise what was happening. He hasn’t heard his name for a while now, he always hated being called by his first name like that. Hakon watched as J began scanning the black fabric over his arms, muttering, “I’m sorry—” clenching his fist before taking a deep breath.

“God dammit…”

“That’s it. Just take a breath, that’s all.” Hakon ruffles his hair as he takes a seat next to J, holding out a small oat bar he had gotten from the Fish Eye’s canteen. “Here, I’m not hungry anyway.” He lies. It was the last one in stock before it would go out of sale, so he took the chance to get it for a deal. It’s not like he’ll die without it, so what harm would it do if he gave it to the craftsman?

“Haks, you’re bad at lying but…” J takes the offering, taking a bite out of the bar greedily. “Thank you.”

Of course, when it comes to the kid, Hakon couldn’t hide everything from J. No matter how much he tries to hide, there are always subtle hints in his actions. However, the only thing he managed to keep strong was his collaboration with Waltz.

The best-kept secrets are those that are never spoken of.

And he intends to keep it that way for his safety.

“That you are, with a keen eye as always.” Hakon smirked happily as he chugged from his bottle. “You’re getting better at managing those attacks.”

After bringing the young craftsman to the bazaar, where Alberto had agreed to care for him for the next few months, it was preferable if he were somewhere Hakon could visit without being discovered by the Renegades, especially since Alberto was a close friend of Iskander when they lived there. They also managed to find someone who could help manage J’s panic attacks, encouraging him to find ways to cope with his trauma.

A few months later, his recovery was exponential.

His love to craft things and help others was his motivation.

Just like them.

It was less than a month when J returned to the Central Loop and back to his apartment, though the journey was trickier. Getting him between distant locations was more difficult than bringing him to the bazaar in the first place.

“This is what I mean, Hakon. Is it even possible for me to manage something like this on my own? I’ve barely recovered, and even the little things trigger them.” J inquired, his head resting on Hakon's shoulders.

“Things take time, even some wounds will take longer to heal. And you’re a strong person. Despite the stress you're burdened with, you've still pushed through, despite it still dragging you back…” "...and do you really want to back down now?" Hakon says as he sets the bottle down. We’re very close to getting the doors opened, and my back would appreciate not carrying any more things back and fourth.” He jokes.

“Hakon, seriously.”

“I kid. Of course you’re ready.” The Frenchman smiles as he pats J's head, much like a proud parent would. ”You’ve practised a lot with your old man, and I have full confidence in you.”

“Without him?”

“Trust me, you’ll do fine. I’ll be hanging out just to give you moral support.”

“You mean to flirt?”

“Kiddo, you know me too much.”

“Is this why people call you a whore?”

“Hey–hey! Who taught you that word?”

“That’s a secret.” J hopped off the counter, turning back to look back at the old man with a gleeful smirk written on his face. "Break's over, Whore-kon. Get your ass moving, we still have some hours left till dark."

“I–” Hakon stared blankly, hearing the term "Whore-kon."

That’s new.

And he hates it.

Hakon glances at the kid from the corner of his eyes as he grumbles.

At least he’s happy.

So he'll admit defeat for now.

“Sir yes sir…”

#dying light oc #dying light 2 stay human #dying light game #dying light #dying light fanfiction #dl2 hakon #big angst #dl2 oc #fanfic #pain #ahahahaha #i'm looking at the people on the dl server with a tea in hand #thatguyender

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lastchancevillagegreen · 2 years

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Now Playing! Sunday, 26 March 2023:

Blue Valentine Tom Waits (Asylum) (released in 1978)

I first bumped into Tom Waits’ music in Carbondale listening to WIDB, the college radio station. It would have been one of two songs I first heard: Better Off Without A Wife (from his live 1975 album Nighthawks At The Diner) or Romeo Is Bleeding from this album. Ultimately it doesn’t matter which I heard first, both made a huge impression on me. I had never heard anyone like this in my lifetime. Someone singing about not wanting a wife (even if ironically, it felt subversive) and someone who sounded like this? I bought both albums in 1978 and as often felt the case, most of my roommates made immense fun of me: ‘the man cannot sing!’ My take was always, are you kidding me? Listen to those lyrics and listen to the emotion in that voice and music! That my friends, is some serious singing. Yes, albeit an unconventional voice perhaps, but certainly an emotional voice like I had never heard. And for goodness sakes, the subject matter Waits was singing about. It all impacted me and made me think differently about what music and singing really was. College gave me musical insight I had not had before. Sure, I was a dork who refused myself admission into the Ramones work and I bought London Town when I should have been buying Road To Ruin. All these years later I no longer own the former, but I do own the latter. We can’t be everything all at once.

I was astonished to discover he was on Asylum as I was a fan of the label. It wasn’t until I realized that he was a California boy and not a New York boy that it made sense. Essentially a singer/songwriter he just didn’t fit in the mold of that moniker. Waits was always so much more in my mind.

I remember the very first time I put this album on and heard Waits’ version of Somewhere, the Leonard Bernstein/ Stephen Sondheim song which comes from West Side Story. When my gay roommate heard that emanating from my room, he barged in and demanded to know who that was. He thought Waits’ version was the most spectacular thing he had ever heard. He got Waits and understood there is power in visceral emotion which impacts lyrical content in ways not even the most beautiful voice can deliver. I was always a sucker for his ballads like Kentucky Avenue. It was then I realized that Waits spoke heavily to the melancholia I’ve always felt deep inside myself. There is something agonizingly beautiful about pain and sorrow and his work speaks to that in a manner unlike most artists are able to do.

I caught Waits’ live at Shryock Auditorium in Carbondale in 1979 and it was mesmerizing. I’d never seen someone who had an actual set onstage as if there would be some kind of a reading. It looked like a park with a park bench, a wire trash can, a tree, grass...Waits of course was not just musically performing, he was giving an acting performance as a drunken man muttering to himself about a litany of why life bothered him. When Waits later became a fine character actor, I was not at all surprised. It was just Waits and his piano and the park bench. The audience would roar with laughter or they would be hushed as he whispered out his vocals, crushing us with emotions. It was the most memorable show I saw during college.

After college I lost sight of Waits’ work operating on a hit and miss approach to his albums. Heartattack and Vine, Franks Wild Years, Bone Machine I bought and then I vanished for supporting his work. The double release of Blood Money and Alice brought me back to his music and I proceeded filling in all the gaps in my collection of his work and then bought everything as it came out from that point. Heaven knows I don’t play him enough, when you have as much music as I do, some artists suffer. But here he is on my turntable now and the memories come flooding back from when I first discovered this fine work. It means the same thing to me now as it did all those years ago.

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helpimhyperfixating · 3 years

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Captive Together - Mer!Jotaro x Mer!Reader P1

Okay, fair warning, this oneshot is LONG. Like, really really long. I divided it into 4 parts but still every chapter is a monster. I edited it best I could, but when it takes a whole day to do so, you can get tired and unattentive, lol. This whole thing got out of hand and it is weird, but I like it. With that out of the way, enjoy some Mer!Joot 😌

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word Count: 8531

Opening your eyes, you winced a little at the stinging jab of pain that shot through your abdomen. With sluggish movements, you drifted forward until you could feel your hand hit glass.

Right. You were in that human facility...

How did you end up in this mess again?

- - - -

“Quick! Go! Go!!” Your voice was urgent and a little panicked, scaring the two pups in front of you to do as you asked. They didn’t know who you were, where you came from, and if you were even able to be truly trusted, but the looming shadow closing in on your location and the terrifying rumble and roar of - what they thought was - a shark was enough to spur them into doing whatever you said.

You had just been swimming by, travelling from place to place looking for a place to live, maybe even a pod who’d accept you. And that was when you spotted the two pups, all by themselves and playing with the sand on the ocean floor, no adults in sight.

Seeing how big and mischievous their grins were, you quickly realised they had most likely snuck away from their pod; bringing back some memories from when you had done that yourself.

With a good-natured sigh, you started to swim over, deciding to take them back to their pod before something would happen.

“Hey, you two.” You clicked out as you approached them calmly, a warm smile on your face. Upon the sound of a voice, the two - they couldn’t have been older than 1,5 years - shot their heads up, eyes comically widening. “What’re you playing?” You asked as you bridged the remaining gap, letting yourself float down to sit on the seabed close to them about two meters away; giving them a little bit of space yet also sitting close enough, to show them you meant no harm.

“We’ve never seen this kind of sand before.” The pup with a pretty, dark blue tail and impressive hairdo spoke up a little meekly and your smile widened just a little bit more at the sweet answer, making both kids relax a bit.

“So you decided to come out here and play in it?”

“Mhm!” The other pup, with a darker grey tail and two markings running crossed down his face, hummed happily, his voice sounding gruff as if he had spent a week in the Red Sea, even at his young age.

“Soo, you didn’t sneakily sneak away from your pod and parents to go exploring the big blue and happened to stumble across this seabed with sand you hadn’t seen before, right?” You questioned cheekily, leaning your chin in your hand as you raised a teasing eyebrow.

Both their eyes widened a bit and you chuckled while the pup with the hairdo curled in a bit on himself. “Are we in trouble?”

“Not with me, no.” You smiled, making him come out of his shell a bit again. “With your parents however? I can’t say.” Now they were both making themselves small, guilty looks on their faces. “C’mon, I’m sure it will be fine.” You reassured them as you pushed yourself off the seabed, swimming over to the two pups until you were in right by them and placing a hand on either of their backs. “It’s best to get you back to your pod now though.”

“O-Okay.”

You hummed a little and pushed them gently to start swimming, one on either side of you. You looked between them both, seeing the anxious looks on their faces and decided to try and distract them a bit as you chaperoned them back. You happened to have noticed a pod took up residence in this area and these two smelled like they came from it, so you knew where to go. You also knew that pod was quite a ways away so you had to find a way to fill the time anyways.

“So, what are your names?”

“I-I’m Josuke, that’s Okuyasu.”

You hummed a little, giving them both another smile. “So, how long ago did you sneak out?”

“Uh, the sun was about there.” Josuke pointed up to where the sun had stood in the sky when they left, filtering through the surface of the water at an angle that told you they snuck out about an hour ago.

“Hm, well, maybe no one in your pod has noticed your absence yet and I can help you two sneak back in!” You started in a secretive voice, making both pups perk up. Okuyasu drifted a little closer to you and grabbed your hand, Josuke seeing and doing the same on your other side, nodding happily at you.

To be honest, you highly doubted no one had noticed their absence, but swimming with two anxious pups was something you would rather avoid. Not only because you feared your lack of experience would make you unable to handle it, but also because anxious pups meant slow pups, and matching their pace when they were anxiously swimming in dread for what was to come was about the most nail biting experience one could have.

“So, why did you swim out so far th-“ whatever you were going to ask was interrupted when your ears picked up on the distant sounds of a motorboat.

Your eyes widening in alarm, the two pups noticed the warning signals you automatically gave off and soon picked up on the noise as well, seeing as the boat was speeding closer very fast.

Now, humans were aware of the existence of Mer, but this was supposed to be a protected area. So if there were humans here, especially those with the loud motors? That could only mean bad news.

“Quick! Go! Go!!” You wrenched your hands from their grips before starting to push on their backs, trying to urge them to go.

Okuyasu let a feared whine escape from his throat while Josuke immediately employed the tactic he had been taught to use whenever in danger: call out.

“Shark! Shark!” He trilled out in a panic, the trills and clicks of his voice carrying a lot further through the water than at his normal pitch and volume, soon joined by Okuyasu in the same fashion as he remembered what he was supposed to do.

While you were glad they had their security systems in order, you knew how clever humans were, especially those who went against the rules set in place, and you feared that they might hear the two pups.

“Ssh, ssh, I’ll keep you safe from the shark! Let’s hide between those rocks, come on!!” You managed to grab both their little hands again and frantically dragged them along with you as you swam full speed towards the rocks that sat about forty meters away, both Josuke and Okuyasu too shocked by the sudden speed they were being pulled along with to keep shouting warnings in panic.

It was dangerous to get to the rocks. The boat was almost right above you by now and to get to safety, you had to swim with the pups underneath the belly of the thing. The water was crystal clear today and the chances of being seen were high.

Safety for the pups was your one and only priority though and so you gunned it.

With an incredible speed, you shot through the water, making full use of your tail as you dragged the poor kids with you, them trying their best to flap their tails and help swim - although it was mainly for decoration and show by now.

Forty meters,

Thirty five,

Thirty,

You were now swimming directly underneath the boat and you tilted your head, keeping a wary eye on the thing as you saw it suddenly stop and rock, presumably from movement from the humans on top.

Twenty five,

A shape on the boat, barely able to be made out through the distortion of the water, tipped you off to the incoming danger and you immediately pulled Josuke and Okuyasu in, pushing them forward with all your might right before a sharp and searing pain shot past your left side.

From the boat, someone had thrown a harpoon down, the speed and angle serving to graze your side, creating a nasty cut on your waist that ran from there, diagonally over part of your stomach before the thing embedded itself in the sea floor.

A sharp and searing pain came in waves but you refrained from calling out, only hissing through your teeth with a small grunt before you shook your head, ignoring it for now as you saw a rope was attached to the end of the sharp stick. It was slowly wrenched free from the sand and you wasted no time in shooting past it, scooping Okuyasu and Josuke up in your arms as you rushed past them, seeing as they were clinging onto each other in shock as they saw you being hit.

“You’re bleeding!”

“It’s okay!” You chirped back over the rush of water coming past as you tried to swim as fast as possible with the pain, leaving a trail of blood behind as you went.

Fifteen,

Ten,

Five,

“Okay, hide behind those rocks and stay there no matter what happens okay? Don’t come out until someone from your pod comes and gets you, do you understand?!” You shook them both a little, maybe not being the best course of action but you had to make your point clear.

“O-Okay!”

“Don’t make a sound either!” You called back over your shoulder as you started swimming away, secretly looking to see if they were well hidden and stayed put as you asked them to. You saw the both of them look at you with fear and anxiousness, peeking from behind the rocks, and sent them the last best reassuring smile you could muster before turning to look forward again and booking it. You were gonna save those pups if it cost you your damn life.

- - - -

Your fuzzy memory finally began to clear up a bit and you remembered how another boat came and chased the hunter’s one away. You had led the hunter’s boat away from the pups but got trapped in a cove, only for the new boat with science humans to come to your aid.

Upon seeing your injury, they got very concerned and offered to take you with them so they could treat you and help you.

Despite their honeyed words and friendly appearance though, there was one blaring warning signal. These humans that were claiming to trying to ‘help you’, smelled exactly like the ones from the boat that had injured you. Which meant these people had interacted; and not just in passing or a small falling out, no they spent a while with each other to have the scent rub off that heavily.

In other words, these were no friends to you.

Despite knowing this, you had agreed to their offer. Those pups were still nearby, what could you have done? Maybe if they took you along they’d be satisfied, and never realise there were more Mer nearby. And so you allowed them to take you.

“Good news! Today the bandages come off and we are planning to transport you to a bigger tank while you further recover!” One of the humans you had come to see a little more often in your past two days in this tiny tank approached, that easily recognisable false smile on his face. Whenever he approached like that, there was something else behind it. Yet, you pretended to not notice, perking up in happiness and sloshing around in your tank like an excited puppy despite the pain that brought.

“For me?” You asked. Your human English was a little rusty and sounded somewhat garbled, which was no surprise given how you had to use completely different parts of your vocal cords to speak it, but at least it was understandable.

“Yes!” He grinned before stepping even closer. “And! Inside there is a surprise! Around the same time as we found you, we found another Mer, stuck in a fishing net. They’re in the tank you will be transferred to today!” He sounded genuinely happy this time and you realised with a bit of horror he probably saw it all as a big experiment. Most likely wanting to see how two of the same species reacted upon meeting. “It’s that one over there!” He pointed behind himself to a large tank on the opposite end of the large room.

You had noticed this tank almost immediately when you first got to this facility. After all, why were you stuffed into a tiny tank that was more fitted to fit an octopus rather than the large tank that was available right there? But if it housed another Mer then that was logical. Probably a bigger Mer than you as well.

You had seen the scientists hover around it but you never saw any creature inside when you looked at it.

Would it be a male or female waiting for you in there? Given the man’s excitement however, you had a hunch. All you could say was you hoped they hadn’t been injured by the humans to bring in like you were.

- - - -

You spent the rest of the day just trying everything in your power to annoy the ever living fuck out of the scientists around.

You were in a small glass tank, barely big enough to let you stretch your tail out fully and with an open top, allowing you to communicate.

Sloshing around and making water spill over the tank was one of your favourite things to do, your goal to make the papers in the hands of the scientists wet or to make them slip and slam a few teeth out on the floor. If they glare at you, you just acted like it was completely involuntary, having pain in your injury, or the need to move being the cause of you sloshing and splashing so much.

Your next method of annoying scientists was: throwing the small ball they had given you directly to their heads. It was a small yellow thing, apparently filled with air so that it would float on the water. And just the perfect size to lob at someone’s head.

Of course, if they turned around angry, ball in hand, you’d act as if it was all a game. All a game your dumb and simple mind could come up with. And so the scientists just let it happen, picking up the ball and begrudgingly returning it to you every time so you wouldn’t start sadly whining like some puppy.

And that was exactly what your goal was; to convince them you were no smarter than a seal.

Of course, you had the ability of speech, but you intentionally kept your vocabulary in the low. Talking a bit like a pup, with missing or incorrectly pronounced words while the rest of your behaviour mirrored it.

You smiled a lot, indulging the scientists in questions about Mer life that you answered ‘as best you could’ while in reality you were stringing lie after lie after lie. You pretended to be their friend, just like they did to you. What comes around, gets around, after all.

Sometimes though, when you were talking to the humans, you felt as if there were eyes on you. And not the scientist eyes or the camera eyes, but angrier ones.

As the morning bled into noon, you noticed how warily the scientists were being around the big tank. It was open at the top same as yours and reached until about the human’s midriff, but the rest of the tank disappeared into the floor for it was probably a lot deeper than it seemed to you if there was another Mer in there that you’d never even seen before.

But, noticing how hesitant the humans were to stick their head over the glass and look down, you figured you’d test them a little.

No one was really paying attention to- or around you, so you picked up your little yellow ball - the only entertainment you had - and tested its weight a few times before chucking it so hard and so far that it soared over everyone’s heads and plopped right in the bigger tank.

As it landed, you cheered as if it had been your childish goal all along before expectantly looking at the humans. They were, after all, expected to bring it back to you.

Much to your internal delight, you watched how the humans looked back at you in horror and disbelief. It all but confirmed your suspicions that whoever was in there, was very much not happy. And different from you, they decided to go the aggressive route.

When none of the scientists made a move to retrieve your ball for you, you started to make a little whining noise in the back of your throat, making puppy eyes and starting to look all sad.

If the Mer in there indeed went the aggressive route, that meant that your plan was still in full swing. For, if they only exuded aggression, the scientists wouldn’t necessarily see many signs of higher intelligence. They would most likely chock it up to animal instinct instead of genuine anger. Which meant you could continue playing as dumb as you liked without them getting suspicious.

“It’s okay! I’ll, uh... go get it for you!” One of the scientists spoke up towards you and you perked up a little, gripping the edge of your tank and pushing up a bit to mock excitement.

Curiously, you watched as he went to grab a long net on a stick. Was it not within arms reach?

You watched as he walked back over to the tank and warily started inching the pole towards the ball. The entire thing shook with nervousness and you watched in awe as suddenly, out of nowhere, a large Mer shot up, slashing through the invading item and breaking it clean in half before disappearing below the floor again in a flash.

The scientist screamed in fear as the pole got cut clean through, the net falling down into the water before sinking, while one of the other humans went to comfort the scared one.

That was the best thing you had seen in all your time being here.

“What has been said about unauthorised interactment with the large tank?!” A large booming voice suddenly sounded from the door the humans constantly walked in and out of and you, together with all the scientists, turned your heads towards it.

“S-She threw her ball in there, I was just trying to get it back like protocol says!”

“She can go get it herself. We’re transferring her right now.”

All eyes turned to you with that and you shrunk a little, lowering yourself into the water until only your eyes shyly peeked out. Somehow you had a bad feeling about this.

- - - -

Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad! BAD!

You were dangling in mid air on a crane or contraption, some sort of harness put around you and painfully rubbing against your wound. Mers healed faster than humans but your wound was still very much present and open and painful. Did they completely forget you had that or something?? They were even supposed to take off the bandaging today and they didn’t! Although right now it was your only protection from excruciating pain.

Your tail barely had any support and was basically dangling in mid-air, held up only by the fact and grace of being attached to you and your attempt of using your abdominal muscles to keep it steady. Unfortunately for you, that was where your wound was as well, so WAHEY!

You were cursing up a storm as the crane moved you across the room, hovering over the floor as if you were flying. To the scientists, it just sounded like a bunch of panicked clicks and trills, but for you, you were using language so colourful, it would make anyone blush.

Water dripped from you like stalactites in a wet cave and the only satisfaction you had in this moment was that it would make the floor a little slippery for the scientists, hopefully with at least one falling on their face. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time but was only a few minutes, you were dangling over the larger tank.

Your knuckles were white as you gripped onto the harness holding you up. You looked down and noticed how big it actually was. As you tried to gauge the depth from above the water however, the support holding you up clicked loose and you fell down into the tank, harness and all.

Thankfully, you managed to angle yourself to dive in at least a little gracefully instead of just belly flop in - which would be very bad from that height and with your injury.

As you fell into the water you had your arms protectively shielded over your head and your eyes screwed shut, but now you hesitantly blinked them open, bringing your arms down as you sunk down a tiny bit more before stopping.

Looking to your right, you were surprised to see several scientists looking through the glass. Apparently there was a room a floor lower which gave them perfect view of the big tank and the happenings inside it. They all had clipboards and notes and whatever, ready to record and write down everything that was about to happen.

That was the last thought you could really give it, for you suddenly saw something large and fast move from the bottom of the tank, all the way up to you.

Curling in on yourself on instinct, you looked up only to be met by one of the biggest and most intimidating Mer you had ever seen. His torso was in proportion to you but his tail was absolutely massive, almost twice the size of yours. It was strong and powerful looking, sleek black and probably about four or four and a half meters in length while his torso himself was impressive as well, muscle and raw power screaming from every inch of him.

How in the fuck were those scientists ever able to capture him?

His face was set in a glare and you instantly averted your eyes, displaying submissiveness as you turned your head and bowed it a little.

Now, you had wanted to display submissive behaviour from the beginning, just to keep your act up, no matter what kind of Mer was in here, but when you opened your mouth to try and talk and he growled in warning, you immediately slammed it shut. This shark Mer made it very easy.

After a few more seconds of him glowering at you, you opted for safety and abruptly turned around, swimming down as fast as you could to the bottom of this 20-meter deep tank and shooting into the massive skull that sat there. You had to struggle to fit through the eye, the harness still on you hooking against it and hindering you even more, but with some squeezing and manoeuvring, you managed to get inside.

Looking out of one of the eyes, you saw he hadn’t really moved but was still glaring at you before letting out a ‘Tch’ and casually turning to the side, languidly swimming away and down to the corner opposite of the one you were in.

There was a thick, white, concrete column in the middle of the tank, impeding your vision of him as he disappeared behind it.

Letting out the breath you were holding, you closed your eyes for a second before inhaling the water around you. It felt much cleaner and more crisp than the stuffy tank you had been forced to sit in, though the scent of the other Mer was very present as well.

Looking down at yourself, you hissed a little and cursed out the humans as you grabbed hold of the harness and lifted it as far away from the wound on your side and stomach as possible.

The skull you were in provided cover yes, but it was also half buried in sand and you barely had any room to move or even breathe, let alone try to get that damn harness off. Going out while the shark Mer was around and wary of you seemed like a bad idea however so you just stayed put, opting to wait until night before getting out and trying to get the damn thing off.

So, in the time you were waiting, you decided to try and figure out what the fuck kind of skull you were in. It was slanted and half buried in sand, elongated jaw with big round eye sockets. It sure as hell wasn’t any animal you knew of. You even started doubting if it was a real animal at all. When you touched it it definitely didn’t feel like bone at least.

Several hours passed like that and you finally peeked your head out the eyehole again.

The tank itself was not too bad. The bottom was filled with sand and rocks, water plants and seaweed and such sticking out and growing from it, making it look rather natural.

With some effort, you squeezed yourself out of the eyehole again, hissing as you scraped your wound before settling on the sand right in front of the skull and starting to wriggle and tug at the harness.

Why did the humans do it like this? Weren’t they supposed to take it off? Or were they so afraid of your new tank-mate that they just decided ‘fuck it, you’re on your own’?

Aggravated, you attempted to pull it over your head. Unsuccessful.

You tried to unclasp it. The clasps are at the back where you can’t reach. Unsuccessful.

You attempted to pull it apart. You are not strong enough. Unsuccessful.

By now you were running out of options and just violently tugging at the constricting thing. It sat over your gills on your neck, making it hard to breathe - though that didn’t stop you from spitting every curse in the book at the scientists who were undoubtedly still watching, even if the glass where they stood earlier was as dark as the night.

A flutter of the water suddenly reached your ears and you snapped your head up to see the shark Mer quickly swimming towards you, angry and with a murderous look in his eye.

Under optimal circumstances you would have hidden somewhere he couldn’t fit, like the skull. Unfortunately for you, you were wearing a harness and also wouldn’t be able to get inside fast enough.

With not many options left, you darted to the left, quickly swimming away. Taking a glance back, you gasped when you saw he was in hot pursuit. With his larger tail he was quickly gaining but you shot to the side, cutting the corner around the concrete pillar in the middle as much as possible.

Looking to the left briefly, you spotted a corner where the sand was more tailored than everywhere else, a large indent where a body had been resting.

That was all the time you got to look at it however, since you were already rounding the pillar again to show the skull you had been hiding in.

Right now, you cursed yourself for darting. There was no way you could outswim him. You should have just rushed into the skull back there or stayed still, hoping he wouldn’t tear you apart. Now, all you could do was try to get back in the skull.

That was a vain hope however, as he had already caught up with you.

Your blood froze as his right arm curled around your waist, ready to grab. Yet before he did, he hesitated. Instead, he allowed you to slip away a bit further before clamping his arm around your tail, tightly grabbing hold there as he forcefully stopped your momentum and yanked you back, grabbing your shoulders with both hands once in range.

In one smooth motion, he slammed you shoulders first into the concrete pillar before removing one hand and using the claws on it to rip straight through the harness still stuck on you.

“Stop disturbing the water with your thrashing and sleep!” He growled out, a threatening undertone in his voice while his face was so close to yours.

You were breathing fast and staring back with wide eyes but it seemed he wanted an answer before he backed off so you nodded.

Seemingly content with that, he rudely shoved you aside before lazily swimming away, flicking his hand to get rid of some excess fabric of the harness, his tail swishing side to side as he disappeared behind the pillar again to the corner he seemed to have taken up residence in, not looking back once.

You blinked a few times, looking at where he disappeared for some seconds before you swam up, swimming out of the harness with as little tail motion as possible.

Your breathing finally levelled and you turned back around, grabbing the remains of the harness and swimming over to the skull, draping the destroyed thing over a lip on the outside before squeezing into the eye.

- - - -

Waking from your slumber, you got to work digging.

You had a hunch this skull was going to be your home for the time being, so you decided to make a better way of entering and exiting. Digging through the sand laying in the mouth of the skull, you followed the elongated jaw and dug until you made a nice little opening that you wouldn’t have to squeeze through.

While you were digging, you noticed the other Mer swimming around. He avoided your little hovel but otherwise would not sit still. Making laps, checking the corners, running his hand along the wall of the tank as if testing it.

Everything pointed to him wanting to get out of here, just as much as you did.

For now, you decided to keep staying out of his way though.

Right as you exited your skull, you were met with the powerful and intimidating form of the merman. There goes your plan. “What’re you doing?” He snapped at you almost, his tone curt and to the point.

You were still half inside but decided to just stay there like that, looking up at him. “I’m making an easier and less painful entrance.” You explained, motioning to the blood stained bandage on your side. It was designed to be worn under water but even so you doubted it was doing much good.

“Well, be more quiet, you’re making too much noise.” He growled before turning around, nearly hitting you with his tail fin as he went.

You were about one second away from giving him a well earned tap on said tail fin, but managed to refrain yourself at the last second.

“Wait.” You called out after him and he surprisingly enough stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder while you got out of the skull fully. “What’s your name?”

“...”

He didn’t say anything for a second, just looking intently at you for a second, almost as if he was searching for something. Whatever he found he must have been satisfied with though.

“Jotaro.”

A smile appeared on your face at his answer and that piqued his interest. For, when he had been watching you in the small tank opposite the room, you had smiled so much whenever the scientists interacted with you, and it had annoyed him to the point of making his blood boil. But now? Up close? He could see this was the first genuine smile you had given since arriving in this facility, even if it was timid.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. Let’s get the fuck outta here soon, okay?”

Before anything else could be said, you heard your name being called from above. You had given it to the humans but that didn’t stop the pit of disgust when you heard it. Your face contorted for just a second before you steeled yourself and twisted it into the sweet innocent look the humans were used to.

Unknown to you, Jotaro warily watched you as you did that, sharp eyes following your form as you went to the skull and grabbed the harness laying on top before swimming up to the surface.

Shyly poking your head out of the water, you darted your eyes back and forth a bit before landing on the man standing right next to the edge of the tank who had called you.

“Good morning.” He smiled and you bobbed your head a bit in greeting. “Where is the harness?” He then asked and you let your hand drift to the surface, the broken harness in hand.

The man tutted a little but then stuck out his hand, taking it from you before moving it to his other hand and using the one in the water to motion you closer, pointing at the bandaging around your waist. “We didn’t have time to take a look at that yesterday. How about now, Hm?”

God how you wanted to bite his hand. Leave that damned harness on all night and then act like nothing happened? Claiming to just want to look at and take care of your wound again? It almost made you regret trying to trick them by acting dumb and nice.

Someone else didn’t have the gripe of trying to keep up the act of being friendly however.

Out of nowhere, Jotaro breached right in front of you, immediately diving back down and pushing you down with him while he violently smashed his tail against the scientists outstretched hand.

Said scientist screamed in pain as several of the bones snapped at the powerful strike, others rushing towards him while Jotaro just left the chaos behind and pushed you further down before abruptly letting go about halfway to the bottom.

“The fuck are you doing.” He snarled and you backed up a bit.

“What do you mean?”

“Interacting with them. What is your plan to get out of here that makes you need to get all friendly with them?”

As he said that, you tried to steady your breathing. No matter his looks or his seeming temper, his mind was clearly not to be underestimated and already proved to be very sharp. He knew you were putting up an act.

“I’m trying to make them think I am no more intelligent than like, what? A four or three year old human?” You spoke, getting a little lost in thought thinking about human ages and their behaviours during it.

“Why.”

Jotaro’s voice snapped you out of it and you focused again.

“If they expect this level of intelligence from me-“ You kept your hand flat and stationary at the level of your bellybutton. “-they will tailor security measures and such around that level of intelligence. Humans like to cut corners. If they think I don’t know how to open a door, they won’t lock it.” You continued and Jotaro had his eyes narrowed at you. “So, when I suddenly show this level of intelligence-“ You moved your hand up and hovered it at the level of your neck. “-they won’t expect it and I’ll be able to get out of here while they try to figure out what happened.

Despite seemingly getting your explanation, Jotaro seemed truly revolted by the idea of buttering up the scientists.

Without another word, a frustrated rumble tumbled from his chest and he turned to the right, starting to swim away, back to his corner. But not before stopping once more and looking back at you. “Don’t let them touch you.” With that, he continued on his way.

Bringing your arm in, you held it to your chest as you watched him swim away.

- - - -

About two days passed and during that, your communication with Jotaro had been minimal. You two more or less avoided each other - though there wasn’t any bad blood between you two.

Just now, a big slab of tuna had been lowered and - while you had planned to just wait until Jotaro was done - he seemed to have other plans. He sliced off a chunk, letting it drift down as if he didn’t notice it falling while he himself continued with what he had. Yet subtly, you could see him look at you, releasing one low click sound from deep within his chest. A non-verbal go-ahead that many leaders of a pod used; to show that it was for you.

Sending him a quick smile, you darted over and scooped up the meat from below him right before it could touch the floor. With that, you then turned around and went to the corner opposite of him. For once, Jotaro was not in his usual corner. And you were going to make full use of it by doing what you had been meaning to for the last few days.

Putting the tuna in your mouth and just holding it there, you started plucking the gigantic seaweed that grew from the bottom, slicing it at the soil with your claws until your arms were practically completely full.

Peeking your head around the pillar, you saw Jotaro still eating and thus silently yet quickly swam over to his corner.

The sand was bunched up in a small hill on one end, a deeper and bigger indent right in front of it, showing it was where Jotaro slept every night. There were some plants growing around it, but not many. None close enough that they would be able to bend in the current and annoy him as he tried to sleep at least. That was good.

Now, you knew sleeping on the sand was fine. You had been doing it yourself, even insulated and kept a little more warm because of your protective surrounding skull. And, while the heap of sand behind the dent was meant for the same purpose - to retain some body heat - you knew from experience that plants were way better at that.

So, you started placing the seaweed leaves on the sand indentation. One by one you placed them down, layering them over comfortably until it padded the entire space.

You were happy you picked a lot because you had underestimated how big Jotaro’s bedding would be, seeing he was quite massive as well.

Next came the tricky part. Getting the leaves to stick together and stay on the sand, paired with getting rid of all the prickly edges.

Opting to make sure it stayed in place first, you curled the edges of the leaves around the edge of the sand indent and buried it firmly in the grain, making sure to tuck it in well and good so that it would not let go. With that out of the way, you began chipping away at the sharp edges.

You worked as fast as you could, wanting to be finished before Jotaro was done eating and would return here.

Finally done with the snipping, you ran your hand across it, satisfied that there was no uncomfortable plant membrane sticking out anymore.

Onto the last step, you started with the hardest part: weaving the plants together. Cutting small incisions in the leaves with your nails, you started interlocking those cut sections, fitting them together like a puzzle until every leaf on the entire bed was interwoven.

You were almost done when you spotted movement out of the corner of your eye. Turning your head, you saw Jotaro swimming closer, a confused yet wary look on his face.

In the blink of an eye you were already swimming away, booking it towards your skull and shooting inside with practiced ease. You were pretty sure Jotaro couldn’t fit through the mouth, so you felt relatively safe in case he got mad about you messing with his sleeping spot.

No angry sounds came however.

- - - -

Several more days passed just like that. You had made a seaweed bed for yourself as well, stuffing it in the skull and spending quite some time digging a little further into the sand so that you would have a true little hovel. Because of this you realised the skull had no lower jaw, which allowed you to dig down into the sand, causing for even more insulation to keep yourself warm at night. Was it necessary? No. Did it feel great to sleep in a warm environment? You bet it did.

Your interaction with Jotaro was still bar to none. Although he did seem more accepting of you, no longer letting out a dangerous or angry rumble when you moved too much or splashed around a bit.

You had gone back to playing with your yellow ball, throwing it at the scientists heads - though they dodged it more easily now that their attention wasn’t divided between two tanks. Still, whenever you did hit one of them, it felt like a huge accomplishment.

While pretending to play however, you took the opportunity to gather information. Pick up on what the scientists were saying, checking the tank walls while you were pretending to swim around as fast as you could - while in actuality you went only about half as fast. In particular, hopping up on top of the concrete column rewarded you with figuring out there were cameras in the thing. They were small, built in and probably very expensive.

So the scientists were watching your every move even if they weren’t watching.

You honestly felt terrible when you figured that out and had retreated back to your skull, not coming out for 28 hours, not even for food.

About thirteen days had passed since you first came here, and you still had no idea how to get out...

- - - -

To say the scientists of the research facility were in excited chaos and confusion that morning was an understatement.

After nearly two weeks of no process at all with the Mer they captured - the two of them only avoiding each other as much as possible - they come in for work, only to see the two of them curled up in the male’s nest and sleeping together!?

“What the hell happened?! John! Get the footage of last night!”

“Right!” Said man immediately sprinted away to get it while the rest stayed glued to the glass, watching the two Mer as best as they could with how far away from the glass they had set up camp.

A few minutes later, John returned and they all watched with baited breath to see what happened.

Operating the four cameras, they switched between them and fast forwarded the footage from last night until there was motion, pressing play.

“What happened that gave them a change of heart?”

- - - -

Disturbance in the water had roused Jotaro from his sleep.

There was absolutely nothing in this tank except for a feeble artificial water current that helped with filtering. So, to suddenly feel such jerking motions in the water could only mean that it was the other occupant of the tank.

Jotaro tried to ignore it for a bit and go back to sleep but the irregularity and violence in which you were moving meant there was no chance of that.

A little annoyed, Jotaro got up and started swimming over to the skull you had taken residence in.

Unlike the last time you had woken him up during the night, you were not in front of it. Furrowing his brows, Jotaro turned up and swam to one of the eye sockets. Gripping the edge of it, he pulled himself closer and peered inside.

It was hard to make anything out in the dark but with the limited night vision he had, Jotaro could see your form, completely curled in on yourself on top of a bed similar to what you had made for him.

Only, then you twitched.

Your whole body jolted for a bit, a barely audible squeak leaving you before you settled again, only for you to jolt again a few seconds later. Your face was screwed up in pain and discomfort and Jotaro let his gaze drift to your waist, seeing if you could be in pain from that, even if it should have healed for the majority of it.

It wasn’t that though. You didn’t clutch at it in pain or explicitly tried to avoid touching it. You seemed to just be having a nightmare.

For a moment Jotaro considered just leaving. You’d wake up from it eventually and would then just go back to sleep. But that thought was quickly chased away.

Not ever had he seen you so... vulnerable. And as he looked at you, something in him screamed at him to protect you. To protect you, to hold you, to keep you close and safe. Only after a few seconds of feeling his stomach twist did Jotaro realise. Wait, shit- did he just imprint on you?

Just like pups would imprint on parents, so could future mates imprint on each other. It didn’t always happen or all that often actually, but something in Jotaro told him that that was exactly what just happened. Fuck.

Stunned for a few seconds longer, it was another small whimper from you that snapped him out of it. Pushing forward, Jotaro got closer to the eye but he could soon see that he wouldn’t be able to reach you through there with his arm, you were too far to the back and he definitely wouldn’t be able to fit. Hell, he wouldn’t even be able to put both his shoulders through there, let alone his tail.

So, with no other option, Jotaro would have to fully go inside another way.

He didn’t want to invade your personal space, but what other choice did he have? With a bit of hesitation, he swam towards the entrance you had dug and looked down into it. While it was big enough for you to be a comfortable and easy fit, Jotaro would either not fit at all, or have to really squeeze.

He got up for a second and sighed. He could hardly believe he was actually gonna do this. With a little stretch of his back and tail in anticipation, he grabbed hold of the roof of the mouth of the skull.

Lifting it out of the sand was less heavy than he had thought, most likely because of the light material of the skull, but that didn’t mean it was easy. The sand was suctioning it quite strongly but he only had to lift it a little bit to accommodate himself, not pull it out completely.

After a few seconds of lifting it up, Jotaro released it, content to see it stayed at the same height he had put it in before he almost immediately ducked down and made his way inside.

Swimming slowly to not scare you awake even more than you probably would be, Jotaro reached where you were tucked in the corner.

“Y/N.” He softly called out your name but it didn’t do shit. With a lack of social skills or experience, and the need to do at least something, Jotaro instead just opted to grab your shoulder. “Wake up.”

In an instant, you came to life. Seeing nothing but a large form hovering over you caused an immediate fight or flight response and you grabbed at the hand on your shoulder, using your other to swipe at your attacker, only for them to grab both your wrists.

“It’s just me, calm down.” The voice of Jotaro spoke and your breath hitched in your throat. Jotaro? What? How?

Any logic was cast out of your mind as your instincts kicked in. Right as Jotaro let go of your wrists, you shot forward and clung to him. The safety that him being larger and stronger provided and the body heat he emitted the only thing playing in your barely awake mind, still half stuck in the nightmare.

Jotaro was taken aback as you wrapped around him, yet, for what felt like the first time in forever, he welcomed the contact. As he raised one arm to attempt to wrap it around you and provide more safety, he instead painfully slammed his elbow against the skull, making you squeak and cling tighter to him before realising it was not a threat and letting up a bit.

As much as Jotaro wanted to, he couldn’t stay here. This skull could barely fit him as is, let alone with another person there.

Patting your shoulder twice, you looked up at him and Jotaro felt his heart seize at the look you gave him. You also understood what he meant however and let go of him, floating back a bit.

Placing his hand on your head, Jotaro turned with a bit of effort and swam out of the skull.

As his tail disappeared from sight, you cast your eyes down. You were so tired and barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open, yet still, going back to sleep sounded like the last thing you wanted to do.

Suddenly however, you felt your wrist being grabbed and Jotaro yanked you with him out of that skull.

Confusion riddled your sleep heavy mind and you barely had enough thought to move your tail, attempting to help swim but mostly being dragged along by Jotaro.

Before long, you two reached Jotaro’s nest and he sat down on it, pulling you a bit closer since you were practically as far away as you could be, stretched out arms and confused. When you still didn’t seem to get it, Jotaro pulled you down with him until you were pressed against him, your back to his chest as he had his arm around you from behind. His tail started curling around you until it fully encased your form, pushing under your head until you were laying it on top, as if using his tail as a pillow.

“Sleep.” Jotaro spoke softly from right behind you, almost whispering it into your ear, making your heart skip a beat. Almost immediately after saying that, a faint and low rumble began coming from his chest, almost as if he were purring, and you could instantly feel yourself becoming less anxious.

The soft vibrations on your back together with the protective arm wrapped over you and the strong, thick tail curled around and in front of your entire body made you feel safer than you had in a long time - maybe ever.

By now, you could barely remember your nightmare, only that it scared you to death. But even then, all those fears were slowly driven away by the comfort of Jotaro’s warmth and the protection he brought.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#jotaro x reader #jjba #mermaid au #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #mertaro #au #merman #jojo x reader #mermaid #jjba x reader #fish fuckery

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s-brant · 3 years

Text

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

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

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

Word Count: 24k

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

Hurricane Agatha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you smiling about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ misses her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Weird in what way?"

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

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

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

She sighs.

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

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

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

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gotta catch me first!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They tried.

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

It was simple in the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because what?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

Her heart sinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then prove it."

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Okay."

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

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

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

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

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

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

"Promise?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's the one to break the silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wasn't staring."

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

"Whatever you say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's okay," he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could she be so stupid?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She is never skipping this song again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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